Brotherhood: The Recruits [11/?]
Brotherhood: The Recruits
Author: name_me_regret
AN: This chapter got away from me and became even longer than I had originally intended. However, both Phiod and ReZ worked on it together (I was scared outta my mind most of the time, and feared the violence that would happen between them), and it turned darker and darker. So sorry, but it had to be written. Also, I'm not sure what the average height for ten and twelve year olds is, so bare with me. On with the show. Note, the dash is stupid and won't work, so the equals sign is being substituted. I just hope that it works this time.
Chapter Eleven: Fabiola Fornari
Roma, 1491
It hadn't happened over night, or else the neighbors would have grounds for accusing her of being a witch of some kind; not that it stopped them from doing it anyways. No, the process had started over the summer of last year when they noticed that Fabiola was an inch taller than Augusto. At the time, Fabiola had laughed it off and mercilessly teased her twin brother. Augusto had sulked and swore that he would grow two inches and surpass her. Only, it hadn't happened quite how he predicted. He had grown two more inches that summer, and Fabiola had shot up four. It continued that way and by the time they were ten-years-old, Augusto was four feet and two inches, and Fabiola was four feet and seven inches.
At first, it was just her brother's annoyance she had to deal with, but during the festa for their birthday, she'd realized that she was taller than all the boys her age. During the whole event =even if her brother wasn't aware, since he was a loveable, but gullible fool= the boys shunned her due to her height, and the girls' because they liked her brother and he paid them little mind to focus on her. Augusto made it worse when he noticed that she was upset and spent most of the party trying to cheer her up. The only time he left her was when a group of his friends had insisted he come play with them, and dragged him off.
Fabiola smiled slightly as they started to move to the edge of the dancing adults and started to mimic them, and generally making fools of themselves. As she laughed to herself, one of the other boys approached her and she glanced warily at him. "Damn, you're pretty tall," he exclaimed with a smile that was all teeth. He was her brother's height, so she had at least five inches on him, and she could tell that he was taunting her now and bristled in anger. "Are you sure Augusto is really your brother?" She felt like someone had dumped a bucket of ice water over her head. "I mean, your hair colors are not the same, you have very different eyes, and you're as tall as a tree." Her hand went unconsciously to the strands of her jet-black hair that was nowhere similar to his dark brown strands, and her eyes were light brown while his were a dark brown.
"Shut up," she hissed as he continued to taunt her with this knowledge, knowing that she was doubting herself. When he stated that her mother had most likely been a baby snatcher that had stolen Augusto, she snapped and lunged at him with a scream. They tumbled back and she landed on him as she straddled his mid-section, and the loud music drowned out the sound of the scuffle as Fabiola rained down hits on him. She was winning since she'd always been stronger than a boy, and because she'd surprised him. However, she suddenly felt someone grab her and she was thrown roughly to the ground.
"She fights like a boy," growled the one she attacked. He staggered to his feet and Fabiola saw that his mouth and teeth were painted crimson and some of the blood was dribbling down his chin.
"Then we'll treat her like one," one of the other two boys answered, but Fabiola didn't get to determined who as all three of them started to mercilessly kick her. She was still on the ground and could do nothing more than protect her head from the blows. Her screams hadn't gone unnoticed and she heard a furious shout and one of her attackers was tackled to the ground. Fabiola got a reverie from the hits and saw that it was Augusto, who stood quickly and kicked the other boy viciously in the face. He had always been fast and he was upon her other two abusers in an instant, and knocked them away from her. She could tell he wanted to inflict more damage to them, but instead hurried to Fabiola's side as she sat up with a wince. He fell to his knees in front of her and he hissed in anger at seeing her face.
There was a cut on her forehead oozing blood into her left eye, her lip was swollen and cut with blood smeared over them, and she had a dark, ugly bruise on the left side of her jaw. Fabiola knew there were more on her body since she hurt all over, but didn't say anything to him as he pulled her into a hug as she grimaced in pain. He was turned away from them, but she had a clear view over his shoulder of her brother's friends. There were two boys and three girls that everyone considered nice and friendly, and were certainly popular. However, seeing them now as they watched the siblings, Fabiola saw no kindness in their eyes as they looked right at her.
One of the girls, Ginevra glared at her and ran her thumb like a knife across her throat before pointing at Fabiola. Her light brown eyes widened in shock and she stiffened as they snickered among themselves. Augusto pulled back with a frown and asked her what was wrong. Fabiola discreetly looked at the small group of his sneering friends as Ginevra put her finger to her mouth to indicate silence. She swallowed and shook her head.
"Nothing," she whispered. "It's nothing."
~o~
Fabiola smiled at the merchant as he handed her the apples and she placed them carefully in the basket she had hanging from her left arm. When she paid him, she moved on to the next stand to get the last item; the milk.
This morning she had woken from a nightmare, and couldn't find sleep again. It was earlier than she normally got up, since she tended to be up by sunrise but she had gotten ready for the day. Caterina; the housemaid had obviously overslept that day and she rushed out of the back room that she claimed as hers, and in an attempt to help her, Fabiola had offered to buy the necessary things for breakfast. The woman had been understandably hesitant, since the young girl had never went to the market by herself before. Also, her father sheltered her and had her do things only proper for an "upper class lady", since he wanted to marry her to someone of a higher status than they currently were.
The twelve-year-old thought she was much too young to be thinking of such things, and indulged her father whenever she had to. She knew that Caterina was getting older and thus wanted to learn what needed to have to take over household. So, Fabiola had reassured the older woman that she would have no trouble buying fruit, milk, and bread. Now, here she was.
When she had finally purchased the milk, she grinned happily at her accomplishment and started home. She had left the house when the sky had still been dark but now the sun had already risen, and soon her brother and father would be up and would probably be hungry. The girl was giddy with excitement at the thought of being complimented on successfully bringing breakfast.
She blinked as she realized she was close to her father's shop, which would be closed at the time. However, it had been a long time since she had seen it and figured that a few minutes out of her way wouldn't make a difference, so she jogged in that direction.
Fabiola looked around as she entered the area the shop was located at and she moved around the large tree that stood almost in front of it. Directly across from the Fabbro shop there was a stand that sold cuts of meat, and then across from that one was a stand of spices and herbs. She now leaned against the truck of the tree, and if she turned far to the left there was a Marcante de D'arte as well. She inhaled deeply and caught the whiff of hay in the air from the stables nearby. Most of the stands were closed still, but soon they would be bustling with activity and if she were to stay longer and listen carefully, she'd be able to hear the doctor from his stand down the road when he opened. "Come, there's no need to be shy!" However, for now the market was almost quiet if not for the early morning stands that opened at dawn.
The young girl sighed as she straightened at last, ran her hand across the rough surface of the tree trunk, and moved west to go back home. She was passing by the stables and heard the horses' soft nickering coming from the stalls. Fabiola ducked under the fence and peered in curiously for a moment and giggled when a pure white mare snorted at her. As she was about to leave, she heard a voice that made her shiver in fear.
"Look, one of the horses escaped from its stall." She stiffened as she whirled around and saw Ginevra and her cousin Leonello standing at the opening in the fence that surrounded the stables. The other three were sitting spread out on the fence, and all with wicked grins that made Fabiola gulp nervously. "Maybe we should return it where it belongs. After all, something that big is likely to hurt someone." They all cackled in ribald laughter as the two boys jumped off the fence to approach her and Fabiola stumbled back into the door to the stall, but there was nowhere to go.
Over the last two years of torture they had submitted her to both physical and verbal, she had learned their names, and they were all engraved permanently into her mind. The ringleaders were Ginevra and Leonello d'Este; cousins on their father's side. Then there were the Cellini sisters, Nucca and Mea, and finally the worst of her aggressors was Ottavio Farnese.
Ottavio was the oldest of her brother's friends, almost fifteen now, and while Ginevra humiliated and told her how ugly she was; he didn't say such things. Ottavio had cornered Fabiola alone one day last month and she had cowered against the wall while he'd touched her face, her arms, her sides and he had whispered how beautiful he thought she was. His face had been so close and his hot breath had puffed on her cheeks and mouth. She'd been terrified of what he may do, but her brother's voice calling her name caused him to back off.
However, while in a group he didn't say such things, but he leered at her all the time. Now Leonello and Ottavio grabbed her by the arms and forced her to her knees as Ginevra approached, grabbing her chin within her hand and staring down at her with contempt. If Fabiola had been standing then she would have had to tilt her head back, since she was taller than Ginevra by almost seven inches. She couldn't believe that this hateful girl was the person her brother had a crush on, and whom she knew liked him so much that it was practically an obsession. He could understand the attraction, since she had blond hair and hazel eyes, and was small and slender.
She felt one of the boys holding her dig his knee into her back, and realized it was Leonello. He was the boy she had always liked, and was very alike in appearance to his cousin with blonde hair and slightly darker hazel eyes. However, Fabiola's interest in him had shriveled up and died as her fear for these five individuals grew. Because when before she had seen beauty in his fair features, now all she saw was the cruel twist of his mouth and hate in his eyes as he tormented her along with the rest of them.
"I don't know how such a giant, ugly...thing like you could be Augusto's sister." Fabiola had never considered herself neither ugly or beautiful, but after two years of the same comments, she was starting to believe her. Ginevra moved her head from one side to the other and hissed as her neck was strained. She would have jerked away if she could, but both Leonello and Ottavio had her arms gripped tightly.
"There's nothing worth looking at here, but for some reason, Augusto is protective of this hideous face." Fabiola felt Ottavio's left hand dig into her right arm as he stood just slightly behind her, and the tall girl bit back a sob when she felt his fingers treading discreetly into the strands of her black hair. "So, we'll leave it alone, for now," Ginevra's voice made her focus on her, but before she could comprehend her words she was being thrown to the ground.
One of the boys had ripped the basket from her arm =most likely Leonello= and two sets of hands tangled in her hair courtesy of the Cellini sisters and she was dragged by the strands across the filthy, hay covered ground. Fabiola tried clawing at the hands in vain as she cried out in pain. "Take her shoes!" she heard Ginevra shout as the boys chanted and urged the two girls on.
As one continued to tug her hair so hard that she was afraid they'd rip chunks out, the other started to try and yank her shoes off, and nobody noticed that Fabiola's screams had attracted the attention of a near-by patrol. "What's going on here?" one of the soldiers shouted. Fabiola's aggressors immediately scattered, leaving their victim panting on the ground. She heard pounding footsteps and the clank of metal as three of the four man patrol gave chase, while the fourth member crouched next to the fallen girl.
"Are you alright?" he murmured. Fabiola's shoulders were shaking in both relief and grief. Her hair was tangled and dirty, and was spilling into her face as she lifted her face. She resembled little more than a beggar with her now filthy clothes, and wanted to crawl under a rock in humiliation at having been seen like this. Her eyes focused on the soldier trying to help her, and saw that he was only a year or two older than Ottavio; possibly fifteen or sixteen. From under his helmet she could make out light brown hair that went well with his tanned, handsome features, but what had her momentarily mesmerized were his blue-green eyes which at the moment were giving her a pitying look.
"Are you hurt?" he asked more gently when she only stared at him, raising a gloved hand to her face. As soon as his fingers brushed against her dirt-smudged cheek, she flinched away and scrambled to her feet. Before he could stop her, she had grabbed the fallen basket and dashed out of the stable. The young man had raised a hand as if to stop her, but lowered it with a sigh. Instead, he stood as he grabbed a forgotten apple, and watched her retreating back as her ebony hair chased after her.
~o~
Fabiola lay in bed later that morning with her face buried within her arms. Her shoulders shook with quiet sobs as Caterina sat beside her and ran a brush through her damp, clean hair. "It's alright," the woman soothed her. "Signore Gasparo did not mean to yell at you. He was just upset at the state you showed up in, and did not intend for your feelings to be hurt.
The girl had not dared to tell them what had truly happened, and had lied and said that she'd been running and tripped before falling down. Mostly, it was because she feared that her brother would believe his friends instead of her. The look of disappointment and her father yelling at her at the ruined fruit and nearly empty milk bottle had almost made her confess the truth, but she'd held her tongue. Another reason was that she was afraid of what else they may do to her, and how much worse it would be. So, she would endure and grieve in silence, and hope that things would get better with time.
The abuse would continue for a very long time.
~o~
Fabiola lifted the sword she'd just finished crafting with a sense of accomplishment as she lifted it and inspected it before setting it aside with the rest. As soon as their father had left for the market early that morning, the siblings had traded places and while Augusto finished a commissioned painting, Fabiola had worked to finish the orders that had to be delivered tomorrow. It was three bundles of 15 throwing daggers, a Notched Cinquedea and a Channeled Cinquedea, and a long sword. It was now nearing dusk and she had just managed to get done, so she had to hurry up and get cleaned up.
The seventeen-year-old girl always made sure to always wear padded gloves when working so she wouldn't get calluses, and Caterina =who had figured out what they were doing as soon as Augusto started teaching Fabiola how to do metal work= massaged her hands and feet almost every day. The middle-aged woman knew that keeping this from their father would likely get her thrown out, and then she would have nowhere to go. After all, she had never married and started to work for their family just after the twins parents had been married. It had taken them almost ten years to conceive, and afterwards their mother, Fiora had grown weaker as if the birthing had drained her life. It was the reason she'd succumbed so easily to the fever that had quickly turned into pneumonia which had claimed her life.
She had basically raised them, and after so many years, she was the closest thing to a mother that Fabiola or her brother had ever known. So, Fabiola worried about what would become of her when =not if, because it was something inevitable= her father found out.
Fabiola shook herself out of her musing as she exited the metal shop and into the dying afternoon light, and gasped as she saw her father's cart approaching just over the hill. She broke into a run to the back door, slamming through it and rushing to warn her brother. The former guest room had been converted five years ago into her brother's workshop, and while she usually knocked, this time there was no time for politeness. Although, she instantly regretted it as she froze at the threshold as she saw the model for Augusto's latest painting. Ginevra's blond hair was loose and flowing to her milky shoulders, and she was obviously naked under the blood-red silks that were draped over her to conserve her modesty, but not that it mattered since they were practically see-through.
Augusto and Ginevra both turned with stunned and furious expressions as Fabiola's hand trembled on the doorknob. "F-father is almost here," she stuttered. It spurred Augusto into action as he grabbed and dragged his sister toward the changing screens. There were two facing each other but curled so they would hide them from both from Ginevra and one another as they exchanged clothing.
At seventeen, they were now almost the same height at 5 feet and 7 inches, but while she hadn't grown a single inch in the last year; Augusto was half an inch taller, and Fabiola was so relieved. Although, she was still fairly tall compared to someone like Ginevra who was only 5 feet and 2 inches.
Augusto rushed to the basin of clean water to wash his hands and face of any paint, but needed to use soap to get the job done. "Augusto, where are you?" Fabiola heard their father yell and saw her brother flinch. She quickly tossed off her gloves at him as he went, smearing the soot from them on some of his face and arms before disappearing out the door. Fabiola heard their father ask what he'd been doing in his sister's workshop, and he muttered an excuse of trying to sneak a peek at the naked model. The young woman breathed a sigh of relief when she heard Gasparo only chuckle in amusement.
As they moved away, she opened the window to dump out the used water before re-filling it with clean water from the jug to wash her own face and hands. While she smudged some paint on her cheek and fingers, Ginevra got dressed but all the while Fabiola could feel her eyes boring into her back.
"Aren't you ashamed when you claim Augusto's paintings as your own?" she sneered. Ginevra and the rest of his brother's friends had found out the truth almost a year ago. Of course, they'd been accepting while Augusto was around, but the next time they had caught her alone had been excruciating. Usually, they only shoved her around, stole her shoes or parts of her clothes, inflicted injuries where no one would see, and bombard her with verbal abuse. However, that time Ginevra had been so incensed that she'd punched her hard enough to hurt her own wrist, and Fabiola's left eye had swollen shut.
It hadn't been easy explaining that one to both her father and brother, but it helped that Ginevra hadn't come around for almost two weeks to hide her own injury. She'd told Augusto she'd pulled too hard on the clamps when they got stuck in the grate of the heath and it had knocked into her eye, and Gasparo had believed her when she told him she'd accidentally hit herself with one of the larger paintbrushes. They'd both just shaken their heads in exasperation at her "continued clumsiness" and told her to be careful, and if she wasn't so distressed over all the lies, she would have been amused how similar they were despite being so different.
"I don't enjoy doing it, but it's necessary," she muttered quietly. She could pretend to be as spirited as she wanted in front of her brother, but the truth was that she felt like a weak, scared little girl in front of Ginevra and the others. "This way, Augusto can do what he loves." Fabiola was careful to leave out the fact that blacksmithing was something she loved as well. Ginevra's anger and hate toward her was sated if she focused her attention on Augusto. Over the years she had become more infatuated with him, and grew jealous if any girl even looked at him for more than a minute. She was the most jealous when Augusto ditched her to spent time with Fabiola.
Ginevra hummed thoughtfully and moved toward the door; however, she paused before exiting the room. "Don't think I'll forget that little stunt you pulled by barging in here without knocking. I'm disgusted that you saw my perfect body naked." She snorted in derision as she looked her over and promptly left the room. Fabiola staggered back into the chair behind her, and covered her face with her hands and not for the first time, prayed for strength to be able to endure the daily torture.
~o~
'I need one of you to do this for me.'
'I'll do it.'
'Fine. Make it hurt.'
'Of course.'
'Now, two mornings from today...'
~o~
Fabiola stifled a yawn as she left the house as her breath came out as a white cloud, and wrapped her shawl more tightly around herself to ward off the cold. She checked her pouch to make sure she had the necessary Fiorini to buy what she needed. After all, her father had told her that they would have a special guest that morning, and Fabiola couldn't for the life of her figure out who it could be. Since it would be another addition then she would have to buy more, and thus had gotten up earlier.
She grunted as she felt hands grab her from behind before one of them clamped firmly over her mouth. Fabiola screamed against the fingers to no avail as she was bodily dragged off the main road and into the nearby stables. The adolescent remembered this place well and she whimpered as she was flung roughly into one of the empty stalls.
The door slammed closed behind her attacker, making it darker and she scrambled away from the looming figure. "Five years," a voice growled, and felt terror grip her when she recognized it as Ottavio's. "Now, you're finally going to be mine."
"No!" She tried to punch at him as he approached, but he caught her fist in a firm hold before twisting her around so it was pinned against her back in a painful position. "Please," she sobbed as she felt his heavier body settle over her.
He didn't answer as he rutted against her rear and tears stung her eyes as she felt something hard. Fabiola may have been a virgin but she wasn't a fool as to what men and women did, and she knew what was about to happen. She knew that even if she complied, Ottavio would not be gentle and so she struggled as much as she could. "HELP ME!" she screamed, hoping someone would hear her.
She saw stars when his fist slammed into the back of her head and went limp underneath him; dazed but not unconscious. Fabiola was vaguely aware of his hands using something sharp to cut and rip away her dress, Kirtle and Chemise. Her skin prickled in goose bumps when it was exposed to the cold air, and she weakly lifted her head. "Augusto, help me," she whimpered.
Her next breath was let out as a scream.
~o~
Dawn. The versicolor sky was a magnificent sight to indicated that it would be a glorious morning. However, in a small corner of a horse stall a shaking figure curled into herself in grief; trying to hide from the world and the splendor of dawn's light. "Per favore, venite a me," she whispered the desperate prayer over and over again in between choked sobs. "Dolce morte, portami via." Fabiola prayed for Death to come on swift and silent wings to carry her away from all her pain.
Almost four hours later, this is how Augusto found her and his grief was heard far and wide.-
~o~
festa - party, feast, festivity, festival, holiday
Marcante de D'arte - Art Merchant
Per favore, venite a me - Please, come for me
Dolce morte, portami via - Sweet death, take me away
Author: name_me_regret
AN: This chapter got away from me and became even longer than I had originally intended. However, both Phiod and ReZ worked on it together (I was scared outta my mind most of the time, and feared the violence that would happen between them), and it turned darker and darker. So sorry, but it had to be written. Also, I'm not sure what the average height for ten and twelve year olds is, so bare with me. On with the show. Note, the dash is stupid and won't work, so the equals sign is being substituted. I just hope that it works this time.
Chapter Eleven: Fabiola Fornari
Roma, 1491
It hadn't happened over night, or else the neighbors would have grounds for accusing her of being a witch of some kind; not that it stopped them from doing it anyways. No, the process had started over the summer of last year when they noticed that Fabiola was an inch taller than Augusto. At the time, Fabiola had laughed it off and mercilessly teased her twin brother. Augusto had sulked and swore that he would grow two inches and surpass her. Only, it hadn't happened quite how he predicted. He had grown two more inches that summer, and Fabiola had shot up four. It continued that way and by the time they were ten-years-old, Augusto was four feet and two inches, and Fabiola was four feet and seven inches.
At first, it was just her brother's annoyance she had to deal with, but during the festa for their birthday, she'd realized that she was taller than all the boys her age. During the whole event =even if her brother wasn't aware, since he was a loveable, but gullible fool= the boys shunned her due to her height, and the girls' because they liked her brother and he paid them little mind to focus on her. Augusto made it worse when he noticed that she was upset and spent most of the party trying to cheer her up. The only time he left her was when a group of his friends had insisted he come play with them, and dragged him off.
Fabiola smiled slightly as they started to move to the edge of the dancing adults and started to mimic them, and generally making fools of themselves. As she laughed to herself, one of the other boys approached her and she glanced warily at him. "Damn, you're pretty tall," he exclaimed with a smile that was all teeth. He was her brother's height, so she had at least five inches on him, and she could tell that he was taunting her now and bristled in anger. "Are you sure Augusto is really your brother?" She felt like someone had dumped a bucket of ice water over her head. "I mean, your hair colors are not the same, you have very different eyes, and you're as tall as a tree." Her hand went unconsciously to the strands of her jet-black hair that was nowhere similar to his dark brown strands, and her eyes were light brown while his were a dark brown.
"Shut up," she hissed as he continued to taunt her with this knowledge, knowing that she was doubting herself. When he stated that her mother had most likely been a baby snatcher that had stolen Augusto, she snapped and lunged at him with a scream. They tumbled back and she landed on him as she straddled his mid-section, and the loud music drowned out the sound of the scuffle as Fabiola rained down hits on him. She was winning since she'd always been stronger than a boy, and because she'd surprised him. However, she suddenly felt someone grab her and she was thrown roughly to the ground.
"She fights like a boy," growled the one she attacked. He staggered to his feet and Fabiola saw that his mouth and teeth were painted crimson and some of the blood was dribbling down his chin.
"Then we'll treat her like one," one of the other two boys answered, but Fabiola didn't get to determined who as all three of them started to mercilessly kick her. She was still on the ground and could do nothing more than protect her head from the blows. Her screams hadn't gone unnoticed and she heard a furious shout and one of her attackers was tackled to the ground. Fabiola got a reverie from the hits and saw that it was Augusto, who stood quickly and kicked the other boy viciously in the face. He had always been fast and he was upon her other two abusers in an instant, and knocked them away from her. She could tell he wanted to inflict more damage to them, but instead hurried to Fabiola's side as she sat up with a wince. He fell to his knees in front of her and he hissed in anger at seeing her face.
There was a cut on her forehead oozing blood into her left eye, her lip was swollen and cut with blood smeared over them, and she had a dark, ugly bruise on the left side of her jaw. Fabiola knew there were more on her body since she hurt all over, but didn't say anything to him as he pulled her into a hug as she grimaced in pain. He was turned away from them, but she had a clear view over his shoulder of her brother's friends. There were two boys and three girls that everyone considered nice and friendly, and were certainly popular. However, seeing them now as they watched the siblings, Fabiola saw no kindness in their eyes as they looked right at her.
One of the girls, Ginevra glared at her and ran her thumb like a knife across her throat before pointing at Fabiola. Her light brown eyes widened in shock and she stiffened as they snickered among themselves. Augusto pulled back with a frown and asked her what was wrong. Fabiola discreetly looked at the small group of his sneering friends as Ginevra put her finger to her mouth to indicate silence. She swallowed and shook her head.
"Nothing," she whispered. "It's nothing."
~o~
Fabiola smiled at the merchant as he handed her the apples and she placed them carefully in the basket she had hanging from her left arm. When she paid him, she moved on to the next stand to get the last item; the milk.
This morning she had woken from a nightmare, and couldn't find sleep again. It was earlier than she normally got up, since she tended to be up by sunrise but she had gotten ready for the day. Caterina; the housemaid had obviously overslept that day and she rushed out of the back room that she claimed as hers, and in an attempt to help her, Fabiola had offered to buy the necessary things for breakfast. The woman had been understandably hesitant, since the young girl had never went to the market by herself before. Also, her father sheltered her and had her do things only proper for an "upper class lady", since he wanted to marry her to someone of a higher status than they currently were.
The twelve-year-old thought she was much too young to be thinking of such things, and indulged her father whenever she had to. She knew that Caterina was getting older and thus wanted to learn what needed to have to take over household. So, Fabiola had reassured the older woman that she would have no trouble buying fruit, milk, and bread. Now, here she was.
When she had finally purchased the milk, she grinned happily at her accomplishment and started home. She had left the house when the sky had still been dark but now the sun had already risen, and soon her brother and father would be up and would probably be hungry. The girl was giddy with excitement at the thought of being complimented on successfully bringing breakfast.
She blinked as she realized she was close to her father's shop, which would be closed at the time. However, it had been a long time since she had seen it and figured that a few minutes out of her way wouldn't make a difference, so she jogged in that direction.
Fabiola looked around as she entered the area the shop was located at and she moved around the large tree that stood almost in front of it. Directly across from the Fabbro shop there was a stand that sold cuts of meat, and then across from that one was a stand of spices and herbs. She now leaned against the truck of the tree, and if she turned far to the left there was a Marcante de D'arte as well. She inhaled deeply and caught the whiff of hay in the air from the stables nearby. Most of the stands were closed still, but soon they would be bustling with activity and if she were to stay longer and listen carefully, she'd be able to hear the doctor from his stand down the road when he opened. "Come, there's no need to be shy!" However, for now the market was almost quiet if not for the early morning stands that opened at dawn.
The young girl sighed as she straightened at last, ran her hand across the rough surface of the tree trunk, and moved west to go back home. She was passing by the stables and heard the horses' soft nickering coming from the stalls. Fabiola ducked under the fence and peered in curiously for a moment and giggled when a pure white mare snorted at her. As she was about to leave, she heard a voice that made her shiver in fear.
"Look, one of the horses escaped from its stall." She stiffened as she whirled around and saw Ginevra and her cousin Leonello standing at the opening in the fence that surrounded the stables. The other three were sitting spread out on the fence, and all with wicked grins that made Fabiola gulp nervously. "Maybe we should return it where it belongs. After all, something that big is likely to hurt someone." They all cackled in ribald laughter as the two boys jumped off the fence to approach her and Fabiola stumbled back into the door to the stall, but there was nowhere to go.
Over the last two years of torture they had submitted her to both physical and verbal, she had learned their names, and they were all engraved permanently into her mind. The ringleaders were Ginevra and Leonello d'Este; cousins on their father's side. Then there were the Cellini sisters, Nucca and Mea, and finally the worst of her aggressors was Ottavio Farnese.
Ottavio was the oldest of her brother's friends, almost fifteen now, and while Ginevra humiliated and told her how ugly she was; he didn't say such things. Ottavio had cornered Fabiola alone one day last month and she had cowered against the wall while he'd touched her face, her arms, her sides and he had whispered how beautiful he thought she was. His face had been so close and his hot breath had puffed on her cheeks and mouth. She'd been terrified of what he may do, but her brother's voice calling her name caused him to back off.
However, while in a group he didn't say such things, but he leered at her all the time. Now Leonello and Ottavio grabbed her by the arms and forced her to her knees as Ginevra approached, grabbing her chin within her hand and staring down at her with contempt. If Fabiola had been standing then she would have had to tilt her head back, since she was taller than Ginevra by almost seven inches. She couldn't believe that this hateful girl was the person her brother had a crush on, and whom she knew liked him so much that it was practically an obsession. He could understand the attraction, since she had blond hair and hazel eyes, and was small and slender.
She felt one of the boys holding her dig his knee into her back, and realized it was Leonello. He was the boy she had always liked, and was very alike in appearance to his cousin with blonde hair and slightly darker hazel eyes. However, Fabiola's interest in him had shriveled up and died as her fear for these five individuals grew. Because when before she had seen beauty in his fair features, now all she saw was the cruel twist of his mouth and hate in his eyes as he tormented her along with the rest of them.
"I don't know how such a giant, ugly...thing like you could be Augusto's sister." Fabiola had never considered herself neither ugly or beautiful, but after two years of the same comments, she was starting to believe her. Ginevra moved her head from one side to the other and hissed as her neck was strained. She would have jerked away if she could, but both Leonello and Ottavio had her arms gripped tightly.
"There's nothing worth looking at here, but for some reason, Augusto is protective of this hideous face." Fabiola felt Ottavio's left hand dig into her right arm as he stood just slightly behind her, and the tall girl bit back a sob when she felt his fingers treading discreetly into the strands of her black hair. "So, we'll leave it alone, for now," Ginevra's voice made her focus on her, but before she could comprehend her words she was being thrown to the ground.
One of the boys had ripped the basket from her arm =most likely Leonello= and two sets of hands tangled in her hair courtesy of the Cellini sisters and she was dragged by the strands across the filthy, hay covered ground. Fabiola tried clawing at the hands in vain as she cried out in pain. "Take her shoes!" she heard Ginevra shout as the boys chanted and urged the two girls on.
As one continued to tug her hair so hard that she was afraid they'd rip chunks out, the other started to try and yank her shoes off, and nobody noticed that Fabiola's screams had attracted the attention of a near-by patrol. "What's going on here?" one of the soldiers shouted. Fabiola's aggressors immediately scattered, leaving their victim panting on the ground. She heard pounding footsteps and the clank of metal as three of the four man patrol gave chase, while the fourth member crouched next to the fallen girl.
"Are you alright?" he murmured. Fabiola's shoulders were shaking in both relief and grief. Her hair was tangled and dirty, and was spilling into her face as she lifted her face. She resembled little more than a beggar with her now filthy clothes, and wanted to crawl under a rock in humiliation at having been seen like this. Her eyes focused on the soldier trying to help her, and saw that he was only a year or two older than Ottavio; possibly fifteen or sixteen. From under his helmet she could make out light brown hair that went well with his tanned, handsome features, but what had her momentarily mesmerized were his blue-green eyes which at the moment were giving her a pitying look.
"Are you hurt?" he asked more gently when she only stared at him, raising a gloved hand to her face. As soon as his fingers brushed against her dirt-smudged cheek, she flinched away and scrambled to her feet. Before he could stop her, she had grabbed the fallen basket and dashed out of the stable. The young man had raised a hand as if to stop her, but lowered it with a sigh. Instead, he stood as he grabbed a forgotten apple, and watched her retreating back as her ebony hair chased after her.
~o~
Fabiola lay in bed later that morning with her face buried within her arms. Her shoulders shook with quiet sobs as Caterina sat beside her and ran a brush through her damp, clean hair. "It's alright," the woman soothed her. "Signore Gasparo did not mean to yell at you. He was just upset at the state you showed up in, and did not intend for your feelings to be hurt.
The girl had not dared to tell them what had truly happened, and had lied and said that she'd been running and tripped before falling down. Mostly, it was because she feared that her brother would believe his friends instead of her. The look of disappointment and her father yelling at her at the ruined fruit and nearly empty milk bottle had almost made her confess the truth, but she'd held her tongue. Another reason was that she was afraid of what else they may do to her, and how much worse it would be. So, she would endure and grieve in silence, and hope that things would get better with time.
The abuse would continue for a very long time.
~o~
Fabiola lifted the sword she'd just finished crafting with a sense of accomplishment as she lifted it and inspected it before setting it aside with the rest. As soon as their father had left for the market early that morning, the siblings had traded places and while Augusto finished a commissioned painting, Fabiola had worked to finish the orders that had to be delivered tomorrow. It was three bundles of 15 throwing daggers, a Notched Cinquedea and a Channeled Cinquedea, and a long sword. It was now nearing dusk and she had just managed to get done, so she had to hurry up and get cleaned up.
The seventeen-year-old girl always made sure to always wear padded gloves when working so she wouldn't get calluses, and Caterina =who had figured out what they were doing as soon as Augusto started teaching Fabiola how to do metal work= massaged her hands and feet almost every day. The middle-aged woman knew that keeping this from their father would likely get her thrown out, and then she would have nowhere to go. After all, she had never married and started to work for their family just after the twins parents had been married. It had taken them almost ten years to conceive, and afterwards their mother, Fiora had grown weaker as if the birthing had drained her life. It was the reason she'd succumbed so easily to the fever that had quickly turned into pneumonia which had claimed her life.
She had basically raised them, and after so many years, she was the closest thing to a mother that Fabiola or her brother had ever known. So, Fabiola worried about what would become of her when =not if, because it was something inevitable= her father found out.
Fabiola shook herself out of her musing as she exited the metal shop and into the dying afternoon light, and gasped as she saw her father's cart approaching just over the hill. She broke into a run to the back door, slamming through it and rushing to warn her brother. The former guest room had been converted five years ago into her brother's workshop, and while she usually knocked, this time there was no time for politeness. Although, she instantly regretted it as she froze at the threshold as she saw the model for Augusto's latest painting. Ginevra's blond hair was loose and flowing to her milky shoulders, and she was obviously naked under the blood-red silks that were draped over her to conserve her modesty, but not that it mattered since they were practically see-through.
Augusto and Ginevra both turned with stunned and furious expressions as Fabiola's hand trembled on the doorknob. "F-father is almost here," she stuttered. It spurred Augusto into action as he grabbed and dragged his sister toward the changing screens. There were two facing each other but curled so they would hide them from both from Ginevra and one another as they exchanged clothing.
At seventeen, they were now almost the same height at 5 feet and 7 inches, but while she hadn't grown a single inch in the last year; Augusto was half an inch taller, and Fabiola was so relieved. Although, she was still fairly tall compared to someone like Ginevra who was only 5 feet and 2 inches.
Augusto rushed to the basin of clean water to wash his hands and face of any paint, but needed to use soap to get the job done. "Augusto, where are you?" Fabiola heard their father yell and saw her brother flinch. She quickly tossed off her gloves at him as he went, smearing the soot from them on some of his face and arms before disappearing out the door. Fabiola heard their father ask what he'd been doing in his sister's workshop, and he muttered an excuse of trying to sneak a peek at the naked model. The young woman breathed a sigh of relief when she heard Gasparo only chuckle in amusement.
As they moved away, she opened the window to dump out the used water before re-filling it with clean water from the jug to wash her own face and hands. While she smudged some paint on her cheek and fingers, Ginevra got dressed but all the while Fabiola could feel her eyes boring into her back.
"Aren't you ashamed when you claim Augusto's paintings as your own?" she sneered. Ginevra and the rest of his brother's friends had found out the truth almost a year ago. Of course, they'd been accepting while Augusto was around, but the next time they had caught her alone had been excruciating. Usually, they only shoved her around, stole her shoes or parts of her clothes, inflicted injuries where no one would see, and bombard her with verbal abuse. However, that time Ginevra had been so incensed that she'd punched her hard enough to hurt her own wrist, and Fabiola's left eye had swollen shut.
It hadn't been easy explaining that one to both her father and brother, but it helped that Ginevra hadn't come around for almost two weeks to hide her own injury. She'd told Augusto she'd pulled too hard on the clamps when they got stuck in the grate of the heath and it had knocked into her eye, and Gasparo had believed her when she told him she'd accidentally hit herself with one of the larger paintbrushes. They'd both just shaken their heads in exasperation at her "continued clumsiness" and told her to be careful, and if she wasn't so distressed over all the lies, she would have been amused how similar they were despite being so different.
"I don't enjoy doing it, but it's necessary," she muttered quietly. She could pretend to be as spirited as she wanted in front of her brother, but the truth was that she felt like a weak, scared little girl in front of Ginevra and the others. "This way, Augusto can do what he loves." Fabiola was careful to leave out the fact that blacksmithing was something she loved as well. Ginevra's anger and hate toward her was sated if she focused her attention on Augusto. Over the years she had become more infatuated with him, and grew jealous if any girl even looked at him for more than a minute. She was the most jealous when Augusto ditched her to spent time with Fabiola.
Ginevra hummed thoughtfully and moved toward the door; however, she paused before exiting the room. "Don't think I'll forget that little stunt you pulled by barging in here without knocking. I'm disgusted that you saw my perfect body naked." She snorted in derision as she looked her over and promptly left the room. Fabiola staggered back into the chair behind her, and covered her face with her hands and not for the first time, prayed for strength to be able to endure the daily torture.
~o~
'I need one of you to do this for me.'
'I'll do it.'
'Fine. Make it hurt.'
'Of course.'
'Now, two mornings from today...'
~o~
Fabiola stifled a yawn as she left the house as her breath came out as a white cloud, and wrapped her shawl more tightly around herself to ward off the cold. She checked her pouch to make sure she had the necessary Fiorini to buy what she needed. After all, her father had told her that they would have a special guest that morning, and Fabiola couldn't for the life of her figure out who it could be. Since it would be another addition then she would have to buy more, and thus had gotten up earlier.
She grunted as she felt hands grab her from behind before one of them clamped firmly over her mouth. Fabiola screamed against the fingers to no avail as she was bodily dragged off the main road and into the nearby stables. The adolescent remembered this place well and she whimpered as she was flung roughly into one of the empty stalls.
The door slammed closed behind her attacker, making it darker and she scrambled away from the looming figure. "Five years," a voice growled, and felt terror grip her when she recognized it as Ottavio's. "Now, you're finally going to be mine."
"No!" She tried to punch at him as he approached, but he caught her fist in a firm hold before twisting her around so it was pinned against her back in a painful position. "Please," she sobbed as she felt his heavier body settle over her.
He didn't answer as he rutted against her rear and tears stung her eyes as she felt something hard. Fabiola may have been a virgin but she wasn't a fool as to what men and women did, and she knew what was about to happen. She knew that even if she complied, Ottavio would not be gentle and so she struggled as much as she could. "HELP ME!" she screamed, hoping someone would hear her.
She saw stars when his fist slammed into the back of her head and went limp underneath him; dazed but not unconscious. Fabiola was vaguely aware of his hands using something sharp to cut and rip away her dress, Kirtle and Chemise. Her skin prickled in goose bumps when it was exposed to the cold air, and she weakly lifted her head. "Augusto, help me," she whimpered.
Her next breath was let out as a scream.
~o~
Dawn. The versicolor sky was a magnificent sight to indicated that it would be a glorious morning. However, in a small corner of a horse stall a shaking figure curled into herself in grief; trying to hide from the world and the splendor of dawn's light. "Per favore, venite a me," she whispered the desperate prayer over and over again in between choked sobs. "Dolce morte, portami via." Fabiola prayed for Death to come on swift and silent wings to carry her away from all her pain.
Almost four hours later, this is how Augusto found her and his grief was heard far and wide.-
~o~
festa - party, feast, festivity, festival, holiday
Marcante de D'arte - Art Merchant
Per favore, venite a me - Please, come for me
Dolce morte, portami via - Sweet death, take me away