Entanglement

(An Only Lovers Left Alive Fanfiction)

By: Lady Sparrow

November, 1512

The room was made warm by the crowd. A multitude of people had all come for the same reason. Michelangelo was finally finished. The high ceilings of the Sistine Chapel had been completed only a few short days ago and now the church was holding an exhibition in honor of the artist and his remarkable work. All of the finest families from across Italy and the rest of Europe had been personally invited to take part. They now stood about the beautiful room as gentle string music and light conversation flooded the hall. The warmth of the place was oddly relaxed. Inviting. Eve wandered about the space, an oddity compared to the others about the hall. She was alone, unlike the nobles who had each come with a collection of companions. Every family, it seemed, had brought the entirety of their courts with them. Their only job appeared to be standing around their Lords and Ladies. Eve suspected that it was meant to make them appear important. She couldn't be bothered with such things.

The woman looked a ghost when set against the background of richly coloured and elaborately garbed gathering. From a distance it was hard to tell where her white linen dress ended and her ivory skin began. The kirtle she wore was from the previous century, no doubt causing her to appear as a long passed phantom. The long sleeves were tight and reached to her fingertips, accentuating her thin frame. Her skirts swept the floor as she moved gracefully amongst the other guests. The backs of Eve's pale hands and long fingers brushed against the different fabrics of women's skirts and men's robes as she picked her way about the room. Information came in slow waves as the fibers touched her skin. This one was crafted in England two weeks past. That one fashioned in France little over a month ago. Another, newly sewn Rome, just for the occasion. So on and so forth. She didn't much care for the peacock-esque look that had come into fashion recently. Although she had to admit to herself that, on them, it did look wonderfully delightful. How beautiful the humans were.

Eve weaved in-between the lively bodies around her, taking in their sounds and smells much in the same way someone would savor a cup of wine. She didn't usually make a habit of being amongst their kind save for when it was absolutely necessary. And in those cases she didn't have long to appreciate their splendour before it was gone. They pleased her in more ways than she could ever say. Their short, simple and yet abundantly complicated lived fascinated her endlessly. And why shouldn't they?

'Humans are capable of such beauty.' She thought to herself as she carefully watched the gathering around her, 'It's only a shame they can't be bothered to see it for themselves.'

She wandered to an open space in the hall, a place that she guessed would shortly be used for dancing. There she took a moment to study the whole of the room. Soft candlelight washed over the space, setting the smiling faces of the guests in glowing shades of gold. It played off the walls, flickering, causing the room to dance in time with the gentle music. The ensemble responsible for the lovely sound consisted of about four gentlemen, all of which played varying string instruments, and a young woman who sang tenderly in Italian. The group was tucked away in one corner, out of the way of the guests. Eve had always thought it a shame that such talented individuals were seen as servants who's only purpose was to provide entertainment for their betters. She hoped one day all musicians would be recognized for the artist they were.

The song ended and the ensemble fell silent for only a moment before one of their members started up again in a solo. He plucked the strings of his lute with such skill that Eve couldn't help but be staggered by the sound that flowed forward. It was unearthly, filled to the brim with feeling and spoke of a sort of longing one cannot describe through speech. She watched him, completely captivated, as his entire body worked to produce the hauntingly beautiful song. His every moment spoke of a great passion for music. He was a master working at his craft, not for the enjoyment of those around him, but for his own pleasure. Eve could see his love for what he did written across his lovely face. And in those short moments she felt herself drawn to another being in a way she hadn't known was possible. When the song ended the musician's mouth pulled into a satisfied smile. Eve was returned to the present and she suddenly remembered why she had come to the Chapel in the first place.

The woman turned her attention to the heavenly depictions above. She had always had a weakness for art. She studied the seemingly endless paintings as the musicians took up another, more lively, tune. People were beginning to fill the previously empty space now, confident enough to spread out instead of clumping together. Eve ignored them. She studied the biblical works above her in awe. She recognized most of the figures from the Christian Mythology and the stories being told. It was the Book of Genesis. Their creation story. She smiled. There, just off center, was an image of Adam and Eve.

She walked into something, her back lightly bumping into whatever it was. The woman jumped a little and tore her eyes from the ceiling so she could see what it was. 'It' was the musician. Apparently he had taken a leave from playing so he might also admire the ceiling. Eve smiled.

"Scusami." She said, her voice gentle, "Non ho visto voi."

The musician laughed nervously, "Milady. Non... non, umm, parlo Italiano. I... I don't actually speak... umm. My apologise. I did not see you."

"It's quite alright." Eve reassured him, "You're English?"

"Very." He nodded, smiling at her.

He stood maybe half a head taller than her and was comprised mostly of long limbs. He was clad in a simple, darkly coloured tunic and trousers which contradicted her white kirtle in a lovely sort of way. He was also (she couldn't help but notice) terribly handsome, with angular features and high cheekbones. Long, jet coloured, hair hung in loose waves to his shoulders. He was in want of shaving. Thin roughage, perhaps a day's growth, surrounded his mouth and lined his jaw. Over all he was rather agreeable. His eyes, though, were what captured her. His light gaze was direct. It wasn't the sort of stare she was used to receiving. He looked at her the way she looked at the Humans. As though she were beautiful and fascinating to him. And as she studied him, she couldn't help but feel as though she had just found something she hadn't realized had been missing.

"Adam." He offered her his hand.

"Eve." She took it, feeling his warmth against her skin, and information poured forth from his touch.

'Adam. Born 1481 in Westminster, London.'

"You play beautifully, Adam." She grinned at him.

"Thank you, Milady." He smiled and visibly relaxed.

Eve opened her mouth to ask him about his music, but was cut off by a rather large and important looking man, "You there! Musician! You are to be playing music. Not irritating the guests."

Adam scowled, but gave the man a short bow before hurrying back towards his fellow musicians. Eve watched him as he went, her eyes taking in his shape as though she were afraid she would forget what he looked like.

"My deepest apologies, Signora." The man, clearly the person in charge of maintaining the help, said as he bowed to her.

"It's just occurred to me that I have not congratulated Signor Michelangelo." Eve told him, still watching Adam, "Excuse me."

She had to tear her gaze from Adam's figure as she turned away from the man who had interrupted them. She would just have to find the musician again later. The woman glided back between the ever growing crowed with a mind to get away from that unpleasantly boisterous fellow. She decided to seek out the artist she had come such a long way to see. Michelangelo was standing in the center of the room. He had a gathering of people around him, listening as he spoke of what a trying ordeal the completion of the work had been. Eve joined the dialogue and, when the time was right, offered her sincerest compliments on the piece. She spent several moments speaking with the artist, but her mind was not in the conversation.

"Vorrei sdraiarmi sulla schiena per ore la pirrura." Michelangelo told her in an exasperated tone.

"In realta, vi sono una meraviglia moderna." She said, but her attention wandered back to the musical ensemble.

From across the room, Adam was staring at her as he played. A smile crept across her face when she met his gaze. His expression softened, but not for long. The man from before, the one charged with keeping the servants in order, was hovering over the collection of players. He saw the silent exchange and cuffed Adam upside the head. Eve flinched. The side of her face suddenly felt warm, as though she had been the one who was struck. The music stopped. Adam flew to his feet and stormed form the room with his lute in tow. The man called threats after him, then, turned to the staring crowed and begged their forgiveness for the interruption. Eve took the opening she had been given and offered Michelangelo her best wishes. Then, she slipped from the hall as the music started up again.

Outside, the night air was cool and fresh. Eve swept along the side of the building. She could see Adam next to one of the massive columns that lined the front of the Chapel. The sight of him made her go completely still. He was leaning against the pillar, his eyes closed and his head tilted back so the moonlight kissed his face. His long, graceful fingers plucked absentmindedly at the strings of his lute. The same heartfelt and desperately lonely music from earlier filled the space around him. With his head reclined the way it was, Eve could clearly see the veins in his neck. She couldn't look away. Oh, how she wanted to feel his throat against her lips. A gentle evening breeze danced past. It was full of his intoxicating scent. Eve had to do something to distract herself. She wouldn't let him be like all the others.

'Not this one.' She told herself firmly, 'He's special.'

She took a step forward and forced herself to speak, "I'm so sorry about the way that man treated you."

Adam's eyes opened slowly and he turned his head to look at her, "Unfortunately, I'm rather used to it. They're all the same."

"I wanted to ask you," She took another half-step towards him, "before, about your music. About the piece you were just playing. I've not heard it before."

He cracked a grin, "I should hope not, Milady. I wrote it."

"Such a gift." She folded her hands before her, "Whatever are you doing playing here? In front of people who don't appreciate your skill?"

"You speak as though I have a choice." He's smile widened and he slid down the length of the pillar until he was seated on the ground.

"Something tells me," Eve said sitting next to him, "that there is more to you than first meets the eye. Tell me your story, songwriter."

He plucked away at the instrument, playing the song once again, as he spoke, "I was, believe it or no, the second son to a prominent English family."

"What happened?" Eve pressed.

Adam watched her carefully, "Oh, my story is the same as all the rest. I wasn't happy and so I set out to try and find what I felt was missing from my life. I had romantic notions about living by my music. I didn't realize what it would be like. And now I take what work I can to keep myself from starving."

Eve nodded slowly, "What is it you set out to find?"

He took her in with a contemplative expression, "That's just the problem. I don't actually know. But... for some reason... when I look at you..."

"Yes?" Eve raised her eyebrows a little.

"Never mind." He turned away.

Eve was quiet for a long time before she said, "Adam, why don't you come with me?"

"With you?" He looked at her in astonishment.

She laughed a little, "I know it's rather a rather strange suggestion. But anyone can see that you aren't happy here. Come with me and play for joy rather than your supper... and find whatever it is you're looking for."

"You can give me that?" He sat up and leaned towards her.

"Yes. I believe I can." Her voice was soft, "I don't know why, Adam, but I feel strangely drawn to you. And I think... you feel it too."

He only stared at her.

"Come now, Adam." Eve touched his arm lightly, "I've been around far too long to waste time with wondering and waiting."

"I don't believe in love at first sight." He said mater-of-factly.

"Who said anything about love?" She laughed.

Adam's cheeks flushed, a delightful pink colouring his skin, "Then... what exactly are you suggesting?"

Eve rose to her feet and offered him her hand, "I find you wonderfully fascinating and desire to know all I can about you. And I can see in your eyes that you want to know just as much about me. Come with me, Adam."

"Milady, just where would you take me?" He asked, taking her hand and standing.

She beamed at him, "Anywhere you want to go, My English Lord."

They stood in silence for a moment. Eve could see that his mind was working, trying to logically weigh his options. She could also see, in his eyes, the moment he decided to accept her offer. He gave her the slightest of nods. And, with a smile on her face, Eve lead Adam away from the Chapel and into the cool night.

The End