(no subject)
The bleakest winter in the town of Urbino boasts the heaviest snowfall. Lord Pierrino di Montefeltro looks across the sorry state of his mansion and frowns. While he may still carry the ancient Duke title, it is no more than a consolation. Oh, you may have absolutely nothing to your name, but at least you still have the duchy! The Montefeltro famiglia lost control of the city so long ago that the only reminder of its ancient power is the dilapidated estate.
Pierrino tries to imagine what Urbino must have looked like during the time of his forebears, but lacks the imagination (and that is not all he lacks). The overexertion merely gives the Duke a splitting headache. He holds his forehead wearily between his thumb and index finger and sighs, his breath forming a little white cloud in the cold air. Urbino is in the country so there are not many lights in the town, but the duke knows that someday there will be. And when that day comes, he will be begging the land developers to buy his estate so he can have a little bit more to live on. His pride will be as lost as his power and sense of worth.
From somewhere inside, a pair of twin infants screams and the echoes reach the balcony where the duke is waiting. Many would consider the birth of twin boys to be a fortuitous event, especially for a duke -- he now has two heirs to the duchy. But the time of lords and ladies and knights and damsels is long gone. For a duke who only keeps two servants to stop his wife from complaining, two sons only means two more mouths to feed. As he prepares to pay the cab driver for transporting his wife from the hospital, the sound of footfall stops him.
Varanese. Age personified. No one knows the old woman’s real age, only that she has been in Urbino for many years and has neither a husband nor children. Some time ago, the Duchess Acrecia di Montelfeltro took the woman in. Apparently Varanese is able to see the future in her mind, to see things before they happen or before anyone even considers the possibility -- a prophet, for lack of a better term. Pierrino himself was the largest skeptic when she had arrived at the mansion, but Varanese assured him that she had no need for money or any sort of payment whatsoever. As much as the duke loathed to admit it, this was a rather large factor in her employment. The day she predicted the death of Pierrino’s mother was accurate to the very second of the old hag’s death, further opening the duke’s eyes. The idea that the future is predetermined scared him, but he reasoned that it was better to know the future in advance, at least, if that fact was true.
She can only be before him if she has something to say, and the duke bids her to speak. Her voice is cracked and hoarse, but Varanese begins to paint a picture of her newest, most vivid prophecy yet--and it concerns Pierrino’s twin sons.
The Montefeltro family is going to rise to power once again. One of his twin sons will become a Prince and snatch power back from the mafia, leading Urbino into a new age of prosperity. The other is a sacrifice -- he will die, but for a greater cause.
Before Pierrino can interrupt, Varanese goes on to say that if the twins learn the truth about which brother lives or dies before they turn 16, all will fail. It must be strictly kept secret from everyone.
If all goes well, Varanese says that she will reveal which twin is the prince on their eleventh birthday. However, not another word can be breathed before then. If not, everything will be ruined. The Montefeltro family will be leading all Urbino to death and despair with just a few words spoken.
--
It’s ironic, their names. Acrecia isn’t allowed to learn of the prophecy. The less interference, the better. While she is the twins’ mother, this is mostly only in name and in technicality as she does very little actual mothering of them. The duke’s wife already has delusions of grandeur -- any more overconfidence in their status and the woman just might go mad. Realistically speaking, their little family can get along just fine without any servants. This is the 20th century, after all; people have learned how to do things on their own, perhaps with the aid of technology, but most everything is still hand-operated. Pierrino figures that it will be best to keep her from knowing that their family could be rising to fame and fortune. At best, she may hire some more servants. At worst... the duke does not even want to pursue that particular train of thought.
He tries to think back to why he married her and arrives at only one pathetic conclusion: it had seemed like a good idea at the time.
Acrecia names their twins Belphegor and Ba’al. Both are named after demons, which is, the duke muses to himself, most definitely indicative of the deep love she feels for her sons. Unfortunately for the Lord Montefeltro, he was not present when they were being named, and it was too late to go to the town council and have them change it by the time he was made aware of the fact. So the would-be savior of the Montefeltros will be either the Lord of Flies or the Demon of Sloth. Unsurprisingly, neither particularly appeal to the duke, but the names eventually grow on him -- strange as that may seem to some.
Being that he has no idea which of the two is actually the one described in the prophecy and knowing that his wife has no intention of raising them, Pierrino takes the task upon himself with the help of Silvana, their maid, and Varanese, who makes sure to instill in both boys a sense of honor and respect for royalty. (the duke himself mostly only makes sure that they’re in bed on time and eat their vegetables like good fathers should)
Belphegor is the inquisitive one from the get-go, always asking about why things are this way, how that works, when Silvana will be coming along. While he may have nowhere to go, he’s intent on getting there as quickly as he can, even though his name stems from the demon of laziness. Another twist of fate. He’s also the most demanding -- insisting on nicer clothes and more servants; neither of which are things that his father is capable of giving him. In a way, Bel’s cold, calm fury is the same as Acrecia’s.
Ba’al, in contrast, is the quiet, humble child of the duo. When Pierrino watches his two sons, it seems ridiculous that the two could be identical twins with their personalities -- all they have in common in the end is their appearance (a striking commonality, to be sure). Bel leads, Ba’al follows; It’s a parade of two with no purpose and even less of an audience, but they somehow keep marching. Ba’al, Pierrino thinks, is the twin that reminds him of himself. He’s always silently acquiescing to his brother’s harsh commands without a single complaint.
But who knows what is going on in that child’s head? He may not have his brother’s sharp tongue, but his intelligence is the same. Laws of genetics, my dear Watson. Even if he says nothing, Pierrino is sure that he can see the little gears inside his quiet son’s mind working, as if plotting some sort of revenge against his brighter, younger brother.
So which is the prince: the intrepid doer or the would-be schemer? It’s this question that plagues the duke and he goes to find Varanese if only to ease his mind even if he can’t actually get any answers.
When he arrives, the old woman is spending time with the children so the duke takes a step or two back into the shadows so as to not interrupt their time together. Varanese is more like a mother to the boys than their biological mother, who spends her mornings throwing temper tantrums and her nights at parties where half the guests hate her -- and not even in the kind safety of her out-of-earshot range. The twins are much more fond of the old woman. She tells them stories -- grandiose tales of the old times. The turn of the century is no longer an age of knighthood and of saving damsels in distress but rather, it is the modern time where America rules over the world economy, and the mafia has the locals in its clutches.
Oh, but one can still dream. Sometimes when the duke listens in on Varanese’s stories, he can see a glimpse of what Urbino, what Italy might be like when his son, the Prince, takes over. He can see him--a blonde, handsome prince with a silver crown that rules over his territory with an iron, Machiavellian fist. Perhaps Varanese’s vision is a little off -- maybe even both of them can rule. A double threat. It kills the duke to think that one of his precious sons must someday die.
Varanese’s voice is old and worn, but soothing in a way. She is similar to an antique photo that has been eroded over time -- while you can’t see exactly what is in the picture, it does not stop you from wanting to find out. She begins the tale of Hansel and Gretel, an old German tale.
The two children are born of a poor woodcutter and their evil stepmother convinces him to lead them into the forest and leave them to die. After all, their family doesn’t have enough money or food to support two growing children. Hansel and Gretel try to leave breadcrumbs to mark the way home, but the animals eat their trail, leaving the two children lost in the forest.
This is where the commentaries start. Why did they leave breadcrumbs? That’s stupid. Why didn’t their father just change jobs and do something that paid more? If there were animals to eat the breadcrumbs, couldn’t the family have just hunted the animals? Why was the stepmother so evil? Or perhaps all mothers hate their children.
Varanese quietly listens to their harsh criticisms without a word and waits for the twins to calm down. Finally, she asks only one question: what would they do differently? Despite everything, even if they have different personalities and ways of thinking, they answer in perfect synch, having quickly arrived at the same conclusion.
Obviously, they would have killed the other sibling off and left a trail of blood. That’s what princes do!
--
Acrecia is suffering through another one of her tantrums. Apparently, someone informed her that it was awful of her to give birth to two sons and then leave them alone. It is not that the duchess cares at all about being a decent mother, but she does care about public opinion -- at least, the public opinion she imagines for herself. Nobody in town has a decent opinion of her, but this is the least of Acrecia’s worries. Ignoring Pierrino’s protests, she dresses the nine-year-old twins up that very night and carts them off with her to a banquet. The only words she says to either of them is that they had better behave -- their mother’s reputation is at stake. The boys exchange a mischievous glance and then mutely nod, looking like angels. Of course, they would not dream of misbehaving, that’s what their faces say. Their mother just smiles and tucks a ridiculously ornate hair ornament into her blonde tresses. Not being familiar with her children whatsoever, she of course has no idea of what’s in store.
At first, the compliments pour in from multiple sources. What adorable children she has! They both have her hair and Pierrino’s striking eyes. These are two boys that are destined for greatness, they all say. Acrecia feigns modesty and fools no one. Within 15 minutes, the twins are bored of all the fake smiles. They think even less of their mother than everyone else in the room. Mothers abandon children in forests. Mothers keep princes from meeting their Cinderellas. The two of them decided long ago that they have no need for mothers, least of all their own.
Bel looks to see if anyone is listening in before turning to his brother. They have a secret language that is all their own, one that needs no words to be understood -- he did bring what Bel asked for, yes? A glint in Ba’al’s eye confirms that he has.
Quietly, the two of them tiptoe over towards the food. Bel lifts the cover off of one of the dishes and Ba’al places their little green friend on top of the food before the younger twin replaces the lid. They exchange furtive glances -- this will be their little secret for now.
Eventually people get tired of the pleasantries and everyone sits down to eat. The platter with the toad is one of the main courses and is placed in the center of the table. Bel and Ba’al take their seats -- one on either side of their mother. A pretty picture it makes, even if there is no actual love between them. Acrecia smiles down at her twins. They’ve behaved decently tonight, so perhaps she can find it in her heart to love them just a little bit. Even if their births have halved her weekly allowance from her husband, they’re not all bad (twins are a novelty and it makes her image that much more attractive).
Just as she moves to pat them both on the head in what she sees as an act of motherly kindness, one of the servants lifts the cover on the center plate. Before anyone even realizes what’s going on, the poor little toad, overheated and uncomfortable, hops off the platter and onto the plate of the person nearest -- of course as ironic due course, the hostess of the banquet. She stares into its eyes and the toad stares back; it would be difficult to tell which of the two is more confused and in shock. Finally, the toad decides to quit this staring match and lets out a loud croaaaak. The hostess gapes for a bit more, not really sure of what to do, and then she starts shrieking at the top of her lungs.
The twins high-five across their mother’s lap, very pleased with their work. Self-possessed as Acrecia may be, when she looks down and sees their gleeful faces, she senses that something is amiss and quickly ascertains what has passed. While the other guests are causing a pandemonium over the toad, she pulls each of the boys by one arm and drags them out to where the driver is waiting with their car. How dare they do such a thing? How could they embarrass her like that? How is she ever going to show her face in public again? She is screaming at them now, her voice shrill and full of hatred towards the two children she never wanted. They are even worse than demons, she says, her tone dripping with malice. The car is not there yet, so they stop by the side of the street. Nobody is watching; she doesn’t have to play the loving mother part any longer.
She raises her right hand to slap them across their faces. Yes, that is exactly what they need. That old hag and her husband don’t do enough to discipline them, that is why they have grown into a pair of spoiled brats. It is time to show them who is really in charge around here, and they will never act up again.
But by the time she looks down, both of the boys have grabbed her legs and are holding onto her like koalas grabbing onto an eucalyptus tree. Acrecia yells at them to let go, but the twins hold fast. She begins to stumble -- forwards, backwards; she has no control.
The last thing Acrecia sees as she falls into the street is a bright white light rushing towards her (maybe she hears a honking horn in the back of her mind, but she’s too far gone).
The twins giggle. Ba’al smiles and complains that the driver is taking too long -- it’s cold outside.
When the policemen later ask the twins if they saw the car that hit their mother, what it looked like, who was driving it, neither of them have much to say. They put on sad faces for their father’s sake, and the female officers’ hearts go out to the poor young boys. After all, they have just lost the woman that gave birth to them. What a tragedy, how awful they both must feel!
The witch was tricked into the oven, Bel says, finally.
--
Things are surprisingly quite peaceful in the wake of Acrecia’s death. She was the one spending the most money on her ridiculous dresses and foppish parties, so without the drain on their resources, the family is able to spend a little bit more in other places: their food, the twins’ toys, and some renovations for Varanese’s quarters. Pierrino isn’t as deluded as his wife was. He knows that the old woman has done a great service for their family, and he is kind to her in recompense. Perhaps, the duke thinks to himself without a hint of modesty, he is the only one who understands his sons. He never thinks for a minute that they’re spoiled. Rather, they know exactly what they want and don’t let anything stand in their way. If someone won’t give it to them, they’ll achieve it for themselves.
Perhaps it’s their shared blood that helps him to see this, but Acrecia herself had understood nothing, so Pierrino dismisses the notion. He has a suspicion that the twins know more about her death than they let on. Still, Pierrino says nothing more about it. After all, what good would it do? They stage an elaborate funeral as is befitting a member of the Montefeltro family, but not another word is spoken about Acrecia after she is buried and gone.
Varanese doesn’t say so, but all she can think is that the meddler has been taken care of. Bel tells her that his mother had wanted to slap them that night. It’s all right now, she tells the twins. She and their father won’t let anything happen to them any more.
One day, the twins are sent into town with Silvana, the maid, when she goes to pick up food ingredients for the cook. Pierrino thinks that it might be best of the two of them become better acquainted with the people of Urbino. After all, one day the Prince (whichever of the two he may be) will reign over this dominion. The twins agree, but they care less about getting to know the town and are more concerned with a possible adventure. Over the years that they’ve known Silvana, the two of them have gathered that she is fairly dim-witted and easily distracted. It should not take much to give her the slip and get away. Even better, Ba’al has brought a roll of stickers for them to leave a trail. If they become lost, finding their way back to the Montefeltro estate will be easy. They aren’t stupid like that pair of German siblings because princes always have a plan.
While Silvana is talking to a fish merchant, the twins quickly slip away and wander into the flea market. It’s full of interesting trinkets from all over the world (much more interesting than some boring fish!) and the boys are soon poring over all the different shops with inquisitive glee -- all the while slapping a sticker or two on each wall they pass and holding hands to keep from getting lost. They are quite a vision, though in truth their closeness is more out of necessity than any silly sort of brotherly love.
Pierrino may think that he can understand his sons, but the fact of the matter is that the only one who can understand Belphegor is Ba’al and the only one who can understand Ba’al is Belphegor; to understand both is simply impossible. They are bound by what they have in common. They can’t live without one another, but are equally overshadowed by the other at all times. It is the most intense combination of love and hate.
Bel tugs at his older brother’s sleeve and gestures towards a little blue tent. Ba’al shakes his head (uninterested) but the younger boy persists (wouldn’t it be fun?). Finally, the more sensible twin is roped in, and the two plod along until they reach the opening, marked by a sign that reads Indovino. Fortune-teller.
Varanese is a fortune-teller, isn’t she? Maybe this old bag is her sister or something. How do you know she’s an old bag? Aren’t they always old bags in the stories?
Bel yanks his brother’s hand, but the older twin surprisingly does not expect it, so the two tumble into the tent under the elder’s weight and land in a crumpled, unprincely heap.
The fortune-teller (who is quite young and beautiful, grazie!) titters, not used to such young patrons. It seems like the only people concerned with the future these days are frivolous teenagers or businessmen that are down on their luck. How curious these twins are, she thinks. Of course, she knows that they have only come out of curiosity, but their fortunes are too interesting not to tell! After making sure that they sit down, she begins to speak to them of what she sees.
Of course, it’s the exact same vision that Varanese saw all those years ago, but this fortune-teller lacks the old woman’s patience and love for the twins. Besides, wouldn’t things be much more interesting if the twins knew about their destiny? If she could be the one to tip the love-hate scales in the negative direction, how delightful might that be?
Unfortunately for her and her mischievous plotting, this seer isn’t quite as powerful as Varanese. She can only foretell their destiny in vague terms; she cannot say which of the twins is the one that’s destined for greatness. However, her work has been done, and she is pleased with the discord she has sown. The twins thank her (earnestly, as rare as that may be), and then race out of the tent, hands still joined. They follow their trail of stickers until they arrive right at the front gates of the estate at the same time as Silvana, who has not even noticed that they were missing.
And then, for the first time in their lives, the twins take different routes. Ba’al goes to find his father that he secretly admires -- surely he must know which of them will become the Prince. Bel, who has always been more accustomed to Varanese and her fantastical stories, goes to seek out the old fortune-teller.
She is taken completely by surprise when she sees the younger twin running towards her. Varanese has never seen him so passionate about something before. This boy had seen his own mother as no more than a witch in a fairy tale, saw his entire life as merely a game. What could it be now? When he asks her (who is it? is it me?), her blood runs cold. How could they have found out? They weren’t supposed to know!
Her mind is kicked into overdrive as Varanese comes to the worst dilemma in her entire life, long as it has been. There is always a way out, she rationalizes, calming herself down before the boy starts to worry. And then, finally, Varanese smiles. After all, she and the duke had already decided on what they should do if such an event should occur. How silly of her to have forgotten! The old woman pulls Bel into her arms and embraces him warmly, as his mother never had and never would. She tells him then that he is the Prince of the legend. If he obeys her and lives his life to the fullest, he will be the one with honor and glory -- he will lead Urbino into a new age.
And Ba’al? Won’t Ba’al die?
Varanese looks at the younger twin’s face and tries to read the emotion there. Is it fear? How silly, princes don’t know fear. Anxiety? Princes don’t worry over trivial matters. Or could it be love for his brother?
Brothers are only insects and insects are only in the way -- just like witches.
--
At dinner everyone is strangely quiet. Neither of the twins eat much, and the duke and Varanese are not too keen on bringing up the matter of the Prince. The boys seem to be handling the news well, however. Bel frequently sneaks glances at his brother across the table, but Ba’al does not respond -- instead the other twin decides to eat his food silently, almost haughtily.
Afterwards, Bel is wandering around the estate alone when he spots Ba’al splashing around in the fountain. Why is he alone?
A prince doesn’t need others.
How stupid when Ba’al is just a sacrifice.
But isn’t Belphegor the sacrifice?
The younger twin’s gaze slowly trails from the ground to his brother’s face, which is determined and defiant like Bel has never seen it before. All his life, Ba’al has been only an accomplice, there to help him, there to get him out of trouble -- his shadow, his mirror image, perhaps, but complete opposite. So why now?
Why did they have the same face now?
Sensing trouble shocking the little hairs at the back of his neck, Bel runs to his father and explains the situation in a hushed (princes are never worried) whisper. He is the prince, right? Not Ba’al? After all, that’s what Varanese said to him earlier and Varanese wouldn’t lie! People aren’t supposed to lie to princes!
Pierrino is taken aback and rendered speechless. He and Varanese, when thinking up their plan, reached the conclusion that the bond they shared as brothers would keep them from taunting each other or from discussing the matter so soon. Bel is obviously quite upset, and Pierrino isn’t sure what to say at this point. The duke is surprised that Bel believed his older brother so quickly rather than arguing back. The boy is obviously very insecure about his place in life -- is it because he was born as the younger son?
They had never planned for this. Pierrino and Varanese had hoped, when they came up with this plan, that telling both boys that they were the Prince of prophecy would distract them for a while longer so another plan could be made, but their plan had come unravelled in such a short time!
He starts to make excuses, says anything that comes to mind. Bel continues to prod, unsatisfied with these weak answers, and then the worst thing happens: Ba’al enters the room. The twins, both confident in their position, stand side by side in front of their father -- holding hands in a gesture of repose.
So, which is the prince and which is the sacrifice?
There is no possible way that fate can be 100% predetermined, the duke thinks to himself, now in a panic. So what if the boys know which is which and who is whom? What could a pair of little boys possibly do?
From far away, Varanese’s voice cries do not tell! But the duke, who has been nothing but a mousy footnote in his family’s life, chooses this precise moment to be confident and defiant of his fate.
In that moment, he looks right at Belphegor and tells him that Varanese lied to him: Ba’al is going to be the prince. However, Bel needn’t be the sacrifice. Yes, there had to be a way that both of them could be princes...
At this point, Bel has stopped listening, however.
What? Ba’al is the prince? This is -- this is impossible. He becomes desperate to convince himself; he’s the princely one! All their lives, Ba’al has only done what Bel asked of him. Surely someone such as him was not born to lead!
Still, Bel is careful to not let this show on his face. He closes his eyes as if contemplating the matter carefully, then opens his eyes and grins -- Princes never panic. Of course, Father, I understand. The Prince understands.
Pierrino is alarmed, but says nothing when Bel turns and leaves without another word. When he looks back at Ba’al, however, a chill goes down his spine. The older twin has a facial expression that can only be read as a look of complete and utter triumph.
--
Not too long afterward, Xanxus is at the gates of Urbino staring at the grim scenery. He is not surprised or shocked, only very slightly impressed. The entire town has been painted red, each building neatly burned to the ground.
Belphegor walks to the gate, sucking on the tip of his blood-soaked index finger in glee and carelessly twirling a silver crown around his other index finger. The Prince has won, he thinks. He has done only what was required of him. First he eliminated the liar, Veranese, and then his father who didn’t believe in him, and lastly, his silly older brother who had the gall to believe that he could even compete in the same arena as him. The rest of Urbino, his subjects, would meet their prince in Hell where he could rule forever.
Xanxus, seeing a much better use for the boy, instead asks him to join the Varia. Do Princes join the Varia? A prince would be a welcome addition to the team of one who would become head of Vongola. Well, perhaps Hell could wait, then.
Later, much later, Xanxus asks him why he killed his brother even though they were twins that were so close to one another.
Belphegor giggles, remembering his faraway past. It is nothing of importance, he grins. He had only mistaken his brother for a cockroach, that was all.
『TITLE』 parade of two.
『RATING』 PG-13 for dark thematic elements, violence, etc.
『CHARACTERS』 Belphegor + family ; hint of Xanxus (KHR)
『WORDCOUNT』 5,069
『NOTES』 For the mini-bang, oh god. Art by tragicallyditch, more info on that here.
『SUMMARY』 The wherefores and whences on the death of Belphegor's twin brother Ba'al.