pontificus | ( each ) timeskip

Lucrezia Borgia

COURT Seelie
TITLE Treun Diplomat
OCCUPATION Diplomat
ABLE TO FAST-TRAVEL No
RESIDENCE IN 2,701 Treun
RESIDENCE IN 2,702 Treun

MAJOR EVENTS

HIGHLIGHT
Description [ ✖ ]

PLANS
Keeping power in Treun, mostly helping other shardbearers.

SUMMARY OF KNOWN DETAILS
Currently helping shardbearers end anti-shardbearer sentiment in Treun.

TIMELINE OF EVENTS

SPRING IN 2,701 (Mar, Apr, May)

MARCH - Cesare come to Treun -planning a day for shardbearers give back to the people of Treun
APRIL 15 - Description
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SUMMER IN 2,701 (Jun, Jul, Aug)

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FALL IN 2,701 (Sept, Oct, Nov)

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WINTER IN 2,701/2,702 (Dec, Jan, Feb)

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SPRING IN 2,702 (Mar, Apr)

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( codes by whambam )

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Cesare did not pull back when his sister leaned in. He did so half because he didn't want to and half because he did not dare to. He feared the moment when one day Lucrezia would ask him why he was treating her differently and what had changed. As such he stood his ground, smiling, before looking out and on to the field, carefully surveying all the participants.

There was an older man, shorter than the younger boy from before, but stockier. He seemed quiet, keeping to himself as he readied himself for his fight. There was no flamboyance or show to his activities. It reminded Cesare of Micheletto. The man was clearly efficient.

Cesare leaned over, behind her to match her eye level, and took her wrist, pulling her hand up towards the man in dark, plain armour.

"Him."

Her eyes scanned the crowd of knights and squires, all vying for the grand prize. Each seemed to bring something of their own. The younger, slighter ones may have speed while the larger men hold large, heavy lance. Most had come to see the melee, but it was just as entertaining to watch the jousting as well.

When Cesare picked his man, she leaned in again to look at him. "You do love the darker ones who wear the scars of their past so readily on them," she commented. Yes, she saw the resemblance to Micheletto. Not in appearance for the man was dark of hair and had slight more build to him. But he wore the same look, one of determination and of brute strength should someone get in his way.

"A fine choice."

Cesare smirked and nodded.

"Of course I do. How am I to believe that a man has fought when he has no proof of it?" Cesare liked to take a man for his word, but not when it came to something so important as to picking who to join in battle. The men who preferred the shadows, whose scars necessitated it, were the ones that Cesare, from previous experience, knew to be the most menacing.

"Were you interested in someone else, Sis?" he asked, trying to appear nonchalant. If there was the slightest hint of jealousy in his words, what of it? She was his sister. He was allowed to be protective of her.

"Here?" She slid from the one topic to the next as she looked back at him, somewhat surprised. He must know how she felt about marriage, about being with someone. It was not that she didn't care for any here. She had felt something with two others here, but this place had a way of bringing people together only to have them disintegrate away from one another.

"There is none here," she told him, sitting back and placing her hands in her lap. "And you? I am sure you're quite the commodity here."

She remembered how often he would take a pretty girl back to his room. She would doubt it not the same here.

He shouldn't have asked such a question. He should have realised that it would be asked back at him, but he couldn't help it. He had been too curious.

He rolled his eyes and pulled a wry smile. Yes, Cesare had enjoyed the company of a fair share of women, though he was not often the type to discuss it or gloat. Instead, as always with his sister, when she ever asked him a question that he wasn't too keen on answering, he evaded it.

"You think I might be a commodity, Sis? You think me worthy of such attention?"

She knew it was an evasion as soon as he opened his mouth. Pressing her lips together, she knew his answer then. He was still Cesare Borgia after all, and she knew it in his lack of an answer. "You are still a Borgia, brother. Even if very little know our name, I have met royalty well past our ages that knew of us. I am sure you still have a way with women," she told him, her nose crinkling as if she knew him better than he knew himself.

"I'm sure they were all lovely." And then she looked back at him. "I should meet them. I could host a ball, and you can bring them all round so you could hear them sing the praises of Cesare Borgia for yourself."

She teased, but gently so. For her there was no jealousy. She hadn't had him that way, and while they were intimate, that was something she had not known of him, and it was too easy to poke at.

Cesare couldn't help but laugh low and deep. He tilted his head back and reached over, giving Lucrezia's hand a squeeze. She was sweeter in the Drabwurld than she was back in Rome, not yet hardened with age and time, but even now she still had the tongue of a viper.

"I fear I may have to work very hard indeed over the next few months should you wish to fill a whole hall with my conquests. And why would I need them to sing my praises when my own sister already does so with such eloquence, even when it is ill deserved?"

At his words the petite blonde popped herself up out of the seat enough to press herself against him, planting a loving kiss at his cheeks. How she missed this, the banter, his sweet words, to be adored and loved so easily.

"And I mean every word of it, brother. And it is never ill deserved. You are here and could not make me any happier, truly," she told him as she clutched his hand. For all that she's done and all that she's become in the Drabwurld, she has only ever wanted to make her family proud, to stand on her feet as a Borgia. What would they say back in Rome of it?

Her words are truly kind, but they leave him oddly pensive. He wonders if his sister is happier here and if that will continue. The war between Seelie and Unseelie is bubbling, soon enough much blood will be spilled, he is certain. He wonders if that will hurt her, or if what he did to her back in Rome was worse. He tries to stop himself from dwelling on the thought and smiles.

"You mean that you no longer want gifts? That they now are not needed? That is a great relief, Sis." He speaks to her as if she is younger than her years dictate, still trying to separate the sister before him from the lover in Rome.

It was hard not to smile at that, for who would not want a gift? But it was a far cry from the squealing his comment could have received if she were younger. Instead she squeezed his hand gently. "All I can ask for is you by my side. Anything else is unwarranted, but would not be rejected either," she told him, her nose scrunching. She would gladly accept anything from him.

"Though I must ask, is the city treating you well? Do you like it here?" It certainly was not home, and she was well aware of the war. Lucrezia had merely holed herself in Treun, happy to be away from it. There was a buffer in its neutrality.

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