Disclaimer: I do not own Assassin's Creed. That is the property of Ubisoft Montreal. The only thing I own is my take on Lucrezia's character.
I
The dress is a light blue color, an elaborate work of art befitting a princess. Momentarily her hand moves towards the golden jewelry only to quickly pull away as though it had been slapped. Lucrezia reaches over again, this time for the silver pieces.
"Sempre argenti, mai l'oro..." Even now it was a difficult mentality to shake off, the constant reminder that she would never be good enough for the likes of Cesare Borgia.
"For silver is but a paltry imitation of gold, it is futile for you to even try and reach my golden sister." Others would disagree, even now she could hear the Maestro's voice in her mind, reassuring her that she was not as Cesare painted her and that the man was a fool for taking her for granted as he did.
Out of blind hope, she ignored those voices; she wanted to believe there was good in him-more to the point, that he would come around and finally treat her like his daughter. It was all she wanted and all she had craved as long as she could remember. One would think she would know better by this point but Lucrezia kept trying and hoping.
The blonde blinked away her imminent tears as she reached for the last piece of jewelry, a ring with a large blue stone. It matched wonderfully with her dress, being a similar shade of blue. Slowly, deliberately she reaches for the stone and flips it open, revealing a hollowed out interior.
The gem is not empty however; within is a small mound of light blueish powder, which she knows as Aqua Tofana. Red wine was ideal for the job, naturally.
At that moment, Lucrezia's hands shake and she wonders, not for the first time, if she can really do what she was charged to do this night. It is one thing to go and kill a common man but quite another to poison God's Chosen Representative.
Fortunately, it does not take long for her doubts to be replaced by cold resolve. "I must do this...It's the only way to stop my father's ambitions. Maybe one day Italy will be unified but it must be when her people wish it." Lucrezia takes a brief moment to regain her composure and courage when she hears her father calling for her.
"...Coming, Padre." The girl walks out of the room, closing the door and never looking back as she starts walking faster to catch up with her father and aunt.
II
The long walk through the corridor seemed to take hours, despite her certainty that it would not take so long to reach the room where the banquet was being held. It was hard for her not to glance nervously about the hallway and even harder to ignore the strange feeling that she was being watched by suspicious, disapproving eyes.
That idea gained more credibility due to the large amount of statues or paintings decorating the corridor; that the majority seemed to be religious figures took the cake for Lucrezia. The young girl focused on walking, keeping her eyes fixed upon her father's back.
The Borgia siblings looked very Imperial tonight-Cesare dressed in a flattering combination of red silk with cloth-of-gold while her aunt was dressed in a deep purple gown, its neckline adorned with tourmalines. Lucrezia looked down at her dress with a sigh. As pretty as the dress was, one could hardly expect this pastel shade of blue to hold its own against that rich combination of colors.
Her thoughts were entirely irrelevant to her mission but Lucrezia didn't care; if she felt less nervous keeping herself distracted to avoid thinking about the mission then that was fine with her. Technically Rodrigo was nothing more than a stranger to her so it shouldn't be bothering her so much.
Then again, she was also going to kill off her grandfather, not the easiest of ordeals. No, that was a lie; His Venerable Holiness wasn't so close with her. No, what was really rattling Lucrezia's nerves was that she was going to kill the Pope, God's living representative on Earth and one of the most powerful political figures in Italy.
One could only imagine what might result after such a death; already the girl was painting a vivid mental picture of nobles running about to secure their economic-political fortunes, the ransacking of the late Pontiff's apartments, the arrangements for the funeral and the conclave to come...There might even be rioting in the city.
To think that all that would come about due to her actions was a scary thought but Lucrezia knew it had to be done. I wonder how many people will be destroyed tonight...
The blonde wondered as she glanced down at her ring before walking faster to catch up with Cesare and Lucrezia.
This was going to be a long walk...
III
Dinner is not a quiet affair and Lucrezia is grateful for that. Surprisingly she is able to disregard it all as background noise, even though she is not thinking of anything in particular. Like most banquets the table is covered with all manner of dishes from all over the world.
At the moment however, it is only the first course so many of the items are light and in moderate portions. Lucrezia does not try to fill her stomach, eating a bit of bread, fruit and very little wine. In the meantime, she watches the other Borgias.
As always her aunt is beautiful, elegant and golden. Purple suits her and it isn't hard to imagine her a queen or empress. In the beginning she had hated Lucrezia, hated how she always seemed to come between Cesare and herself.
The girl also hated that in her father's eyes she could never be that Lucrezia or even her equal, despite sharing her looks to the extent that they could be identical twins. Never mind how hard she tried to reach that high standard; in Cesare's eyes it was an impossible, even laughable, effort.
These last few days however, Lucrezia has found herself revising her original opinion about her aunt. It's not a development she's comfortable with, especially with how hard it is for the girl to break out of her "Zia Lucrezia = rival" mentality. Breaking out of said mentality has apparently been declared a given, though she has no idea when that happened.
Naturally, Rodrigo is the center of attention at the banquet, just like how the Pope is at the center of all Christianity and Rome was once the center of the world. The aging Pontiff is of course, enjoying himself like most of the partygoers and yet Lucrezia can't help thinking that something is troubling him, as the smiles he gives do not seem to reach his eyes nor does he seem to actually register and savor the taste of his wine.
Her father is in the thick of things, unsurprisingly, and as always he is beautiful. Lucrezia would have to be blind not to acknowledge that. Unfortunately, his beauty seems cruel, an impression that she conjures all too easily when she thinks of all Cesare has done, to others as well as herself.
More than once, she notices his gaze wander over to his sister. At first, his gaze is full of seeming brotherly affection and love, or rather, that is how she wishes it looked. In truth there are darker feelings contained within it, feelings that make Lucrezia question why he bothered to take her in and raise her.
Sensing the chill of fear coming over her, she wants to hug her knees close to her and curl up in a ball. All I wanted-still want-is for Father to acknowledge and love me. I don't care if he declares me his lawful child or not...Now I'm starting to wonder if I want that to happen...
The blonde-haired girl, lost in her thoughts, is only barely aware of the servants entering the room to clear the table for the next course.
IV
The second course has richer, heavier foods all of them either beef, roast boar and at one point Lucrezia is certain she saw a servant carrying a platter with a huge brain on it. The sight of so much red meat in one place, coupled with her nervousness about her mission, practically shuts down her apetite and she opts for sipping one of the red wines, occasionally nibbling on a piece of bread.
The feasting and revelry carries on, going into high gear while the girl waits for the opportune moment. At some point, someone sits down beside her and Lucrezia is surprised to find it is none other than a drunken Cesare Borgia, the man whose paternal love and affection she had desired for as long as she could remember.
An awkward silence hangs over them but eventually Lucrezia breaks it with a statement. "Seems that you are really enjoying this party, Father." Cesare glances over to her, his glazed brown eyes locking with hers momentarily. "Si, I am having a lot of fun. Hopefully that is the case with you as well, yes?"
She isn't enjoying it at all but the girl forces herself to smile nonetheless. "Oh yes...The food is also delicious." A lie, since she's barely eaten anything no thanks to her nerves being on edge since entering this room. Cesare nods, satisfied with her response and reaches over to a bottle to refill his cup. Watching him, Lucrezia hesitates but figures she may never get another chance later on.
"Father...If I may be so bold to ask...why did you take me in? You do not even pretend or claim you love and care for me as you would your legitimate children so why bother to take care of me at all?" Lucrezia wonders if such a question would mean her breaking the First Commandment yet almost instantly she shrugs it off: she's never been able to fulfill the First Commandment anyway.
Cesare is thoughtful, stroking his beard for several seconds before answering her. "Well it was by your mother's request, or rather, ultimatum: since she could not provide for you herself she took you to me, saying that either I take you into my wing and raise you or send a monthly allowance to support her and the child. I chose the first, since it seemed a better idea in terms of saving money."
The answer is a cold, hard blow for Lucrezia, who feels as though her father just punched her gut. Unfortunately, Cesare isn't quite finished yet.
"At one point during my childhood I was promised the most beautiful golden girl in the world, the Helen to my Paris. Unfortunately those promises turned out to be false for the man who made them married her off to other people for political gain. I attempted to create my own golden girl-you-but it wasn't enough; all that I produced was silver, which is inferior to gold, and always will be. Try as hard as you like, daughter but you could never hope to be my golden Lucrezia...the best you can hope to be is a pale silver imitation."
She has heard it before but this time Lucrezia just wants to run away, curl up in a dark corner and cry until she has no tears left to shed. Cesare's words replay in her mind, reminding her of her failed efforts over and over again, highlighting the futility of that battle. Unfortunately, that breakdown would have to wait, because the opportune moment had presented itself.
"Lucrezia, please serve me more of that red wine."
V
Lucrezia stands up and walks towards the Pope to retrieve his wineglass. It is a fine, if somewhat gaudy, thing, with small rubies dotting the sides while the base of the glass was dipped in gold. "How is it to be the life of the party, Your Holiness?"
The girl says, attempting to make conversation as she uncorks a new bottle of his favorite red vintage, since the last bottle used had already been finished. "It is only proper that We be thus, already with our weighty role as God's earthly embodiment and the Vatican being the Capital of Christendom; alas it is still slightly lacking."
The young girl paused, the wine glass mostly empty save for the small trickle of wine she was pouring into the cup. Normally she would have shrugged off the comment and pretend to listen but his voice seemed tinged with regret and longing. "Slightly lacking, Your Holiness?"
She asked, tipping the bottle over the glass a bit more. At the same time she cunningly opens the ring, the deadly Aqua Tofana pouring into the glass and quickly diluting in the red wine. The man responds to her question with a sigh.
"Let it only be said that in light of past memories, We regret our current position." The response was incredibly vague and Lucrezia doesn't inquire into it, sensing that whatever Rodrigo is referring to is obviously very personal to him, though her natural curiosity does keep her wondering about why he regrets being Pope. Does he regret the pressure of the position, or something else entirely?
"Your wine, Holiness. Naturally, it's your favorite Tuscan vintage, though the name escapes me." She says as she hands him the wineglass in a reverent manner. "Rosa di Monteriggioni, little one. Simple, but the name of the place can be a mouthful."
He replied as he took the wineglass and began sipping at it, then taking a longer draught. "I'll keep that in mind, Your Holiness." She replies, curtseying and taking backwards steps away from him until it is proper enough for her to turn around and walk back to her seat. From there on, she can only wait. After what seems like hours, she looks up to see her aunt standing at her side.
"The hour grows late...it is time we took our leave, yes?" Lucrezia rises from her chair, almost too quickly. "Yes...I am done with this place." The elder Lucrezia frowns, as though sensing something has happened but does not raise the issue, merely turning away and walking out of the dining room, the younger counterpart following her closely.
They stop at the Borgia apartments to change into something less fine and eventually leave the immediate vicinity of the Vatican through one of the less traveled streets. It doesn't take long to find spare horses and ride them to the place where her mentor and aunt had agreed to meet.
Upon arrival, Lucrezia can see that the Assassin Grandmaster is already waiting, though it is hard to determine how long he has been there. He looks very different from how she last saw him however, having changed his usual white robes for black ones-in her opinion, the striped sleeves look silly but that was Italian Renassaince fashion for you.
"Here is my niece, Signor Auditore, as promised and more than happy to rejoin you, I'm sure." Lucrezia looks as though she would have added more but changes her mind, merely waving goodbye at her niece before riding off.
Ezio glanced over at Lucrezia, his voice low. "From the look on your face, there is no need to ask if you are ready to leave." Lucrezia nodded. "I just want to go to my real home...even if my friends probably hate me because of my blood." The Assassin Grandmaster nodded and coaxed his horse into motion, the younger assassin riding after him through the dark city streets.
Neither of them speak, though Ezio is already concerned about the girl, sensing that something must have happened during the mission, among other things. Eventually they reach a street that has a canal alongside it, and the two of them quickly get on the rowboat and start rowing, letting it drift downriver for a bit until reaching a path that would get them back to the island.
As the boat moves through the water, Ezio pops the first of many questions. "Something wrong, bella? Keep up the mood you're in and you will compel the weather to change and start a downpour." He said in an attempt to lighten the atmosphere, which fails miserably.
"Mi dispiace, Maestro...I was just wishing I had hurt him somehow." Blink. "Hurt who, Lucrezia?" He asks, all the while pondering the idea of seeking out the "him" in question and teaching him a lesson.
It is a strange twist of fate-an ironic one at that-but the Assassin Grandmaster had grown particularly fond of this pupil, enough to regard her as a surrogate daughter. "My father, even though as his child I should not bear him ill will...but...it's difficult to overlook his words."
Lucrezia wants to cry but holds back; she doesn't want Ezio to to see her this way. "I'm listening." Two words, but enough to compel the girl to speak.
"We had a chat at dinner. He was drunk, which may or may not have been a good thing. I asked him why did he trouble himself with me when it is so obvious he doesn't care." She paused, not wanting to continue in a vain and futile attempt to ignore the truth. "Did he say anything?"
She doesn't answer immediately, sighing in resignation before speaking again. "He said he only took me in so he would not have to send monthly payments to support me and my mother; it saved more ducats that way. He also said he had tried to create his own "golden girl" but said I could never hope to be like Lucrezia-silver isn't enough for the likes of Cesare Borgia." Pause.
"That last bit tells me more about my father than I would have cared to know." Ezio doesn't respond immediately, taking in her words. Outwardly he is calm, but his grip on the oars has tightened. While he had never been through the illegitimate child scenario like other nobles, he does know that if it ever happened to him he would have ensured that said child would live safe and happy, as well as being secured for life unlike so many other bastards.
Unfortunately, not many are of like mind as him. "I'm sorry, piccina." Lucrezia quickly wipes her face clean of tears. "There's no need to apologize for my father's behavior, Maestro...It isn't your fault." He shook his head. "No, I'm sorry that he fails to appreciate you."
For a moment, his mind goes back to the past, back to when his family had left Firenze and was living in Monteriggioni. The comparison is inevitable: Lucrezia was just like Vieri when the man was alive, yearning for a love neither would receive. Unlike his rival however, Lucrezia had gotten what she desired, though not in the way she expected.
Trying to discern her expression in the low light, Ezio thought she might have come to the same conclusion. "Pezzo di merda...it just...it doesn't seem right that I find the father I've always wanted in the form of a stranger. Not just any stranger, but my father's enemy."
Heavy sigh. "In an ideal world that would not happen, Lucrezia...Alas this world is far from ideal." The girl huffed.
"Unfortunately."
VI
~Viana, 1507~
It had been four years since her first real assassination and now she was about to do one once again. Admittedly this was a target her mentor should be taking on but Lucrezia had ended up going to Viana all the same. Despite her growth and acquired worldliness in those four years, the young woman couldn't help wondering if this would prove harder than killing Rodrigo.
Most likely it would; Cesare was no old man like his father had been. He was still young and he had more experience in combat. And of course there was the added pressure of him being her father. But you have another father now, Lucrezia... The young woman reminded herself.
Not long after Rodrigo's death, at some point her aunt had done the neccessary paperwork of giving Ezio custody over Lucrezia, provided that certain conditions were met. Pulling her thoughts back to the present, the young woman scanned the battlefield, weaving through the battlelocked soldiers and even killing those who dared to challenge the oddly short soldier crossing the field as she looked for Cesare.
It took several minutes but eventually Lucrezia ran into him, and when she did, she did not recognize him immediately. The Cesare she had known was barely there in the one she faced now. At some point his face had been scarred, possibly from the battle but judging from the white line it was obviously older than that. It didn't look like a blade had made the scar but rather a nasty scratch caused by some person's fingernail.
Pushing those thoughts away, she concentrated on the task at hand and stepped forth to engage Cesare in combat. Their blades met and the fight began, Lucrezia ignoring anything Cesare had to say and focusing only on his movements.
The battle seemed to last an eternity before Lucrezia decided to try something drastic, throwing her sword right at Cesare to distract him. At the same time, she was also moving, circling the fallen Borgia until she was behind him, her hidden blade stabbing into the side of his neck, impaling the major vein there.
"Fuck you...Assassino..." Cesare manage to say before crumpling to the ground on his knees, Lucrezia still supporting. "Yeah well...fuck you too, Cesare...or should I call you Father one last time?" The dying man's eyes widened at this. "Who-who are you!?" Somehow he was able to speak despite his fatal wound.
"My name is not important...Just know that I was the one who hastened your downfall, Cesare." As she spoke she turned him around while removing the helmet that was covering her face. As expected, Cesare was in shock, but any words he wanted to say never came as the life in his eyes went out and his body went limp.
At this point Lucrezia should have been compassionate towards him but did not. To tell her biological father to rest in peace seemed a lie. Unfortunately, she also wasn't lacking enough in morals to desecrate the dead either. It took some effort but she managed to bury him in a shallow grave at the graveyard of the Viana monastery, near the back wall, and used his sword and armor as the grave marker.
Not the best arrangement but she figured anyone would certainly recognize the arms, as they had belonged to someone whose name was known throughout the western world. Lucrezia quickly mounted her horse and rode away from the town and the battle, never looking back.
~FIN~