Demi: I've been quite ill recently, and yet, I've not managed to write a single damn thing. So I've been forcing myself to do prompted stuff - shuffling my beloved iPhone and plotting stories through the music. Music is what keeps me going when I'm bedbound, which is what has occurred a lot recently. I've always been a huge Mumford and Sons' fan, ever since i saw them at a small venue gig, before they hit the mainstream. For those not familiar with their music, i urge you to go listen to them. Their lyrics are so deep and meaningful, but their melodies are just as worth it. Mumford have calmed me when I've had a particularly shit day and will continue to do so. But, listening to their album, I found so many connections to AssCreed, namely FedVie that i just had to write to the album haha
I attempted to do this as a "write until the song ends" ditty, but on some songs, I've repeated the song, because i've really been inspired, so some are longer than others. And they won't all be FedVie - one of these is an Ezio-centric, so... yeah.
I aim to do the entire album of "Sigh No More", but here's the lot that i've done so far, and tell me what you think =]
SIGH NO MORE
"Oh man is a giddy thing..."
It took him a long time to get Vieri to understand something about love.
It could not be controlled like womenfolk, it could not be bought or sold like land, and it could not be set out like a contract. Love just happened. It happened between two people, sometimes quickly and unexpectedly, and other times slowly and gradually. And whilst it could not be controlled, it could not control you—ultimately, some decisions are made with your mind befuddled with amorous feelings, but if the love is true then it cannot hurt you. When it does, it is not love—it is, instead, something mankind has created to lie alongside love. People fall in lust and call it 'love', and then forsake love itself when they are burned; the failure of man.
WINTER WINDS
"As the winter winds litter London with lonely hearts
Oh the warmth in your eyes swept me into your arms
Was it love or fear of the cold that led us through the night?
For every kiss your beauty trumped my doubt...
And my head told my heart, 'Let love grow!'
But my heart told my head, 'This time no, this time no...'"
Sometimes, Vieri truly wondered why he was with Federico.
The bastard annoyed him to no end, constantly teasing and riling the Pazzi male for his own amusement. He constantly flirted with what seemed like every breathing person within shouting distance, especially with the women folk and whores. He showed up at the most goddamn awful times—his favourite was in the very early hours of the morning when Vieri was groggy and defenceless—and did everything Vieri didn't want him to do.
He was attractive, yes. His physique was that of the fabled Greek gods, muscles tight with power, and skin a glowing brown. His nose, granted, was not his most redeeming of features, but Vieri only had himself to blame for the slight crookedness; too many punches to the face. But his eyes always glittered with so many emotions, brown flecked with...was it hazel? Sometimes Vieri liked to think it was gold—Federico was strange enough to have gold eyes. But then the elder male realised it was not Federico's handsomeness that kept him from running his sword through his gut (and that was not a euphemism).
Vieri could probably have his pick of Florence, due to his family's status and wealth, but those people would not hold him in a warm embrace during the night and wouldn't tolerate his mood swings, nor his scathing remarks. And that's when Vieri realises, with icy dread, that he only stays with Federico because he's scared of the cold.
He's scared of being alone.
He had sought comfort and love from his father, but it was, as they say, like trying to draw blood from a stone; ironically, the metaphor fitted his father perfectly, the heartless bastard he was. And then Federico came along and...
All those hugs and kisses and affection – he only accepted them to feel wanted, to feel loved. He was not deluding himself into this. He knew it for definite. And maybe Federico knew it too.
Maybe they were both afraid of the winter winds.
ROLL AWAY YOUR STONE
"But you... you've gone too far this time
You have neither reason nor rhyme
With which to take this soul that is so rightfully mine"
He had meddled for the last time.
Vieri did not need Federico. No, he did not. The bastard Assassin had come along and tried to make his life better. What was 'better', though? Who had a better life, or the best life? Vieri was not a philosophical person—he left that to Viola—but even he, in this period of quiet, found himself pondering such...such whimsical thoughts of life. What made a life better?
According to Federico, it was love. It was affection, it was hugs, it was kisses, it was laughter. To have a good life meant that you could run through the fields of Toscana, smiling with the wind even as rain soaked you cold to the bone; it meant you could wake up with a smile on your lips and a tune in your head without meaning. A good life was the sensual enjoyment of the physical, the pleasure of discovering and the contentment in the unknown.
But that still didn't explain how that made Vieri's life better. He had money, he had the pick of many beautiful and powerful women in Florence and beyond, he had allies, he had a large house—he had many large houses—in fact, he had everything he could want and need. And Federico and his notions were not needed.
His meddling—his attempts at making his life better—had left him with nothing; stripped of dignity in the Pazzi ranks, in the Templar order even, when his trysts with Federico had been uncovered, he found himself in the very pits of lowliness and by God above, if there was one, he was not staying there. He would once again stand proud and it would be without Federico.
WHITE BLANK PAGE
"You desired my attention but denied my affections, my affections...
But tell me now, where was my fault
In loving you with all my heart"
With the sheets crisp and cool beneath his outstretched fingers, Federico stared at the long, broad frame of Vieri's back. The fibres of his very being urged him to continue further, and brush skin against skin, but he resolved not to. His heart skipped a beat or two upon remembering the night passed, when Vieri refused him, when he snapped, when he took what he felt was his; or gave, rather. Vieri never accepted feelings of an emotional nature, always the physical, and so Federico showed him how he felt through their bodies; their movements had been filled with hurt, fuelled by hate and love alike—there was nothing pure about it.
Federico loved Vieri like no other, but hated him for not loving him back in the same way.
Vieri loved how Federico adored him physically, but hated him for adoring his soul.
TIMSHEL
"And I will tell the night
Whisper, 'Lose your sight'
But I can't move the mountains for you"
Federico knew his boundaries with Vieri; he knew where and when the lines were drawn, lines which he would never cross.
When seeking Vieri out, he would judge the situation like any of his Assassin missions. Sometimes Vieri was too caustic to approach, even for Federico, and so the Pazzi male was left alone. He would go to Vieri, however, when his instinct—an almost primal feeling—told him that his lover, his mate, was in true need. He would hold Vieri tightly, ignoring any scratches and bruises he developed in the process.
Times had recently been rough on Vieri, and Federico would often return home battered and bruised. He never questioned why; in fact they didn't speak during these times. Eventually Vieri would tire himself out and stand limply in the younger man's embrace, unconsciously savouring a warmth he knew would soon be extinguished. When lying in his bed, with Federico snug against his back, he'd wish he could convince the night to continue on and bid the sun forget to rise. He would untangle himself from the hold and move to the edge of the cold bed, pillow gripped tight in his fingers.
And in the morning, he would wake with his hand clenched tightly in Federico's, heartbeat fresh in his ears. He would realise, for what felt like the millionth time that even if Federico left him in the physical sense—willingly or otherwise—the bastard would never truly leave him.
DUST BOWL DANCE
"There will come a time I will look in your eye
You will pray to the God that you always denied
Then I'll go out back and I'll get my gun
I'll say, 'You haven't met me, I am the only son'"
He crouched on the sharp slope of the roof, eyes glinting beneath the shadow of his hood as his gaze followed two beings walk past his sentry point and onwards, oblivious to his presence.
One was Uberto Alberti. He was lower than scum in Ezio's mind. He was a betrayer, a user, a criminal of all seven sins. That man had taken everything from him—his family, his wealth, his title, his existence. Because of that man's actions, Ezio Auditore had died along with his brothers and fathers; he was the Assassin now.
The other man was Lorenzo de'Medici; he was not his target. Far from it, Lorenzo was his father's best friend, at least according to Paola. She was the one who had helped him to this stage, not only building his skills, but honing his mind and courage to seek revenge. He would do this, for both his family and for himself—for Ezio, the young man wiped from existence by the ruthlessness of the Assassin, the first victim.
Alberti would be the second.
Then in a flurry of movement, the deed was done. Blood stained his robes—his father's robes—and dripped a lake from his blade. Alberti died praying to a God he didn't believe in, he died a liar, panting for breath he did not deserve, grasping for life he should not have. And now, as every person in the courtyard turned with horror at the sight, he admitted it all. Of course, he could not hide, not now. He claimed the kill in the name of honour, in the name of justice, in the name of the Auditore, in his name.
Demi: As I said, these were written to get my groove back, so they are choppy and shit and blergh and probably don't make sense. I really don't like "White Blank Page", but then again, it's not my favourite song, although i do like it (if that makes sense)...
Ahh too many drugs. Brain addled. Tell me what you think, though =]