☩ Dream: Borgia Blood ☩
Effects: Feelings of peace and contentment.
Warnings: Borderline incestuous :T
Notes: NOT interactive. Written with supernalprince :3
The crimson folds of expensive cloth moved near silently around his legs, unhurried as Cesare's step was. The Borgia apartments in the Apostolic Palace of the Vatican were no where near completed but even so were impressive. The wealth of his family was taken in his slow stride as he moved to his own bedroom. There was a pleasant anxiety on him as he moved around a pillar, down a hallway, through a door. His love was waiting for him. It was not the anxiety of an impassioned man meeting his lover, but the subdued nerves of a familiar and needy comfort sought for. The beauty waiting for him would be at once magnificent and expected.
Lucrezia his heart called out.
Cesare slowly opened the door to see his sweet sister. Her hair golden, face cherubic, eyes both innocent and wise, all of this but mere surface patter of rain on the deep ocean of intent feeling he had upon merely seeing her. His heart swelled and spirit exalted at seeing her, in a way that no gilded cross or jeweled chalice of holy water ever could or would.
"Lucrezia," he whispered.
The golden-haired girl turned her attention from the thick book to the sound of Cesare's voice. Her smile was an immediate reaction to his presence, and his name was a second response that she often had to seeing her brother. "Cesare!" Fingers smoothed down the time-darkened paper and fell from the surface to close the book and set aside as she stood and walked with a rush toward Cesare.
Her arms wrapped around his neck and a soft nuzzle to his chest. "I saw him, Cesare, he was beautiful and magnificent and he asked me to come dance in the foam with him!" She of course spoke of the seahorse that she had quickly become enchanted with. "He said we will wear such a mask that the moon will covet and the stars will fall down like rain and become a part of our masks." She moved her fingers to trace the sides of his cheeks and she looked deeply into his eyes as if not simply looking at him, but searching.
"Then he promised me a prince would save me and then he floated up from the foam and left me there reaching for him -- I wanted so much to go with him Cesare, but I knew that I couldn't because I needed to wait for my prince..." Her fingers began to stroke toward the corner of his lips. "But I knew in my heart I would wait forever because my prince would never come... because you're my prince..."
"None shall take you away from me." He was the Borgia prince and she the princess, and none outside them would ever be above the other in their eyes. No husband would take his place at her side and never would he find a bed warmer than the heat his Lucrezia gave him.
Cesare matched her affection with gentle fingertips tracing up the soft round of her cheek, then moving back to disappear into the thick silk of her hair. Her fingers were affectionately nuzzled out of the way so that he could lower his head to press his mouth to her cheek where his touch had just caressed, now caressed by his lips.
"You are mine, dear sister." Just as he was hers. "My love."
[Cesare wakes not from his bed in the church, but at the desk not far away. He had fallen asleep working, and his hands come up to rub his tired face and a large yawn overtakes him before he can politely cover his mouth.]