Title: Merciless
Rating: PG-13 for violent imagery
Pairing: Lorenzo/Giovanni (/painful death of enemies)
Word Count: 555
Description: Those who cross the Medici are shown no mercy.
Author's Note: Did anyone else find that scene in Lineage where Lorenzo tells Giovanni to "be merciless" incredibly hot? I just love the thought of an infuriated Lorenzo exacting revenge through his assassin and vicariously living the moment of Giovanni's kill. This is my attempt to recreate some of that emotion.

"Ruberto Covani." Lorenzo spat the name like a curse, as he whipped the edict into the fireplace. "The noose is too good for him!" A ruby droplet beaded where parchment sliced his bone-white knuckles. "Were my hands not tied, I would kill the man myself for his betrayal."

"If it is vengeance you seek," Giovanni growled, "I know where he can be found." His voice was also taut with anger, but the anger was for his Lord and the traitorous cur who dared sully the Medici name.

"His death is decided regardless of your blade, Giovanni." Shaking his head, Lorenzo glowered balefully at the flames. "But this time, justice comes far too swift. For the anguish he caused Clarice alone, that feccia should suffer slowly at the end of my sword."

"Your Magnificence." Giovanni took a bold step forward and knelt at his Lord's feet. "In deed as well as in vow, I swore to uphold your family's honor as if it were my own." Slowly, he lifted his gaze. "Let my hands be yours in exacting retribution." As he pressed a kiss to the Medici ring, the drop of blood at his Lord's knuckles rolled to meet his lips, joining the fever of ire between master and hawk.

For a moment, Lorenzo's face convulsed, and he rubbed a thumb fondly against the other man's cheek.

"Then go," he hissed, eyes flattening into stone. "Rain down fire upon this toad, and let all who witness know the fury of the Medici."

~o~

The cathedral bells tolled murder, and across the rooftops, birds took flight into the autumn sky as a group of archers thundered past in pursuit of a white-robed figure, their blundering comical next to the latter's fluid grace. From his seat by the tower window, Lorenzo watched the chase unfold impassively, hands folded tight about his scepter. Only when the door's creak was followed not by footsteps, but by silence, did he turn to appraise his assassin.

Giovanni fell to one knee, head bowed before his Lord. "The deed is done, your Magnificence."

Lips thinning to a smile, Lorenzo drank in the visage of death incarnate, all coiled strength and smoldering glare. "Ruberto Covani no longer walks this world?" Pushing aside Giovanni's sleeve with his scepter, he tapped the gold head against the spring on the assassin's vambrace in silent command.

"Yes." With a sound of metal kissing metal, Giovanni released the hidden blade to display the blood encrusted there, nearly a finger's in width.

Lorenzo nodded. "And did he suffer?" the Duke asked mildly, lifting his assassin's chin until dark eyes met his own.

Giovanni gazed deep into pools of steel, every detail of the kill etched in the creases of his face, as he recalled Ruberto's last moments - the blood he could not stop, the breath he could not draw, the fear in his eyes as he begged for the mercy he did not receive. The blade that, having found his throat, instead carved an arc into his belly, gutting from him a long and lingering death.

He dipped once, lips brushing the scepter's globe.

"Yes."

Lorenzo honed his smile to a razor-sharp edge. "Non hanno pieta, my dear Giovanni," he murmured, gesturing for the assassin to rise. "For I never will."

And the mouth that met his was indeed merciless.

feccia = scum
Non hanno pieta = Have no mercy