Blind Justice- The Sacred Angel and The Poison Prince

Arc I: New World

Poisoner

O-o-O-o-O

"The only way to make sense out of change is to plunge into it, move with it, and join the dance."

-Alan Watts

O-o-O-o-O

The lounge was luxurious, decorated in the Moorish fashion so few could afford. The furniture was made of the rarest woods and the finest fabric. Gilded chandeliers, draped in kaleidoscopic crystal festoons, sparkled with a diamond fire as the candle flame wavered. Sitting on a crimson sofa, embroidered with elaborate goldwork, Lovino Vargas was at a state of unease, a thousand vehement feelings raging inside of him.

Terrified, confused, and bitter.

Those were a few of the tempestuous emotions roiling around in Lovino's mind, warring with each other, as the child looked down on the steaming ceramic mug of barbajada he held in his hand. Never before had he felt so many negative emotions at once. Not even on the day he and Feliciano were sent to live with Romulus, that bastard.

Seeing his distorted reflection displayed on the milky brown surface of his drink, he knew how petrified he looked. His face was as white as a sheet and his bottom lip, dented where he had bitten it. Across from him, Francisco lounged lazily on an opulent scarlet sofa, a smug smirk curling the corners of his thin mouth upwards.

He wanted to express his outrage. Cry, scream, fling the scalding drink in Francisco's face, but he didn't dare. Upon arrival, Lovino noted how the servants treated their master- an apprehensive mix of fear and respect. Those actions made one thing clear.

Francisco Javier Carriedo was a man to respect and fear; never to defy, pity, or patronize. Lovino had no delusions that the man- no- diavolo sitting before him, would have no qualms about punishing a child for any impudence.

"Is something the matter?" Francisco drawled in an oily voice. Lovino's gaze shot up, hastily meeting the man's coal-black eyes before looking away.

"N-no…" he mumbled and warily took a sip of the barbajada, grimacing as the sweet drink scalded his mouth. It was perfect, sweetened with just the right amount of sugar and cream, but the bile coating Lovino's mouth from being dragged here, ruined it.

"Nervous, perhaps?" Francisco smiled darkly and straightened his posture. Lovino pressed his lips into a thin line and looked down, mumbling an unintelligible response. Francisco frowned, his eyes flashing. Lovino shuddered as a chill settled in the air.

"Child, you will speak clearly when talking to me, or not at all. One of the things I despise the most, is cowardice," snapped Francisco. Lovino clenched his teeth together and shot him a withering glare.

"I'm not displaying cowardice!" His hands clenched into tight fists. "If you couldn't hear me, then it's your fault, bastardo!" Lovino's eyes widened the moment the words left him. He clapped both hands over his mouth, wincing at the malevolent look Francisco gave him.

Much to his relief, Francisco's frown slowly turned into a half-smile and he nodded approvingly. "Mucho mejor, but from now on-" he paused, making sure he had the child's attention "-watch your mouth when speaking to me. You are young, and were indulged by your grandfather, but I will have none of that nonsense from now on. If you want to survive here, remember this: I am the master here."

A jaw in Lovino's muscle twitched, but he nodded stiffly, his hands tightening around the mug he held. "Sì, signore," he managed in between clenched teeth. He took another sip, warily watching Francisco over the rim. What did that bastard have in store? With all the talk of obedience, it was probably something dull and menial. Waxing floors, for example. Lovino made a face, setting the mug down on the coffee table in front of him. God, he hated chores. Romulus- though he did try to persuade his grandson to help the servants- never forced Lovino to perform hard labor, seeing as it would be a futile effort.

"You're probably wondering as to why I took an interest in you, no?" Francisco inclined his head, resting it against his backhand. Lovino nodded wordlessly, silent, lest he'd make a smart remark and pay dearly for it. Francisco chortled humorlessly and tapped his fingers against the sofa's armrest. The man opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by the sudden arrival of three people: two males and a woman.

Francisco's eyes narrowed into little slits, his mouth twisting into a dark scowl. Curious, Lovino craned his neck backwards to get a better look at the arrivals. Two of the three- one of the males and the female- had fair locks, the color of sun-ripened wheat. The blonde male was tall and intimidating, with hard yellow-green eyes, and his hair spiked upwards in a unique style. The woman was gorgeous, her emerald eyes sparkling with a joyous light, and her womanly curves accentuated by the flouncy gold dress she wore. Lovino couldn't help but stare, a faint blush seeping into his cheeks. She smiled at him, and he in turn, hastily looked away, feeling as if his face was on fire.

The other male was a brunette, who carried himself with an air of nonchalant confidence. The crimson he favored, striking, against his lightly tanned skin. His bottle glass-green eyes shone as he gave Francisco an easy smile. "Hola, papá."

The effect on Francisco was astounding. Lovino didn't even know it was humanely possible for people to turn the precise shade of an eggplant. "Y-you!" he sputtered, looking very much as he would like to strangle the brunette on the spot. "What are you doing here, Antonio? He rose swiftly, his hands clenched into tight fists. Sensing trouble, Lovino flattened himself against the couch, wishing he could turn invisible. "You're supposed to be in Barcelona!"

The blonde man stepped forward, throwing his arm out in front of Antonio. "Easy, sir," he said gruffly. "We invited him to come here with us. We'd thought it'd be nice for him to see home." Francisco snorted, but backed down.

"What are you here for?" Francisco inquired curtly.

"Oh!" exclaimed Antonio as he noticed Lovino, cutting of the blonde male's response. "Who is this cutie?" He beamed brightly at the young child, who gave him a disbelieving look in response. The blonde groaned and rolled his eyes. Francisco gave his son a withering glare, all but throwing daggers at him.

"Someone you should let be," he growled. Though Lovino already disliked Francisco, he silently agreed with the man. After all, he rarely got along with the kids back at home, whom he was forced to play with, and tended to dislike men in general. The only male he bothered to put up with was Feliciano, who he would still be with if it weren't for that culo, Giovanni, and Francisco.

The brunette shook his head, his nostrils flaring as he let out a noisy sigh. "Papá, it's not like that… He's just a kid anyways." He placed a hand on his hip and pursed his mouth into a narrow line. "How old are you, anyways?" Lovino started, his eyes snapping wide open.

"Me?"

Antonio nodded, his lips quirking upwards.

"I'm ten," Lovino answered, narrowing his eyes. "How old are you? Four hundred?" Antonio chuckled, exchanging an amused look with the blonde woman.

"No, good guess though. I'm fifteen."

Lovino's eyes widened in surprise. The brunette with his tall height, lean frame, and angular face looked oddly mature; lacking the awkward gangliness most people at that age possesed. Seeing his shock, Antonio broke out into a broad grin. "Surprised, huh? Don't worry. You aren't the first to comment on how much I look like an old man."

"Can we get back on topic?" the blonde male snapped abruptly, flinging Antonio a chaffed glare. Antonio's expression was all wide-eyed innocence, provoking an eye-roll from the blonde. "Don't look at me like that. You know that you're changing the subject, so stop!"

"I am?" queried Antonio, tilting his head to the side. The blonde gave him an unimpressed look and crossed his arms.

"Oh stop, Tim!" The blonde woman rolled her eyes, tossing her head. Tim gave her a rueful smile, shaking his head. Francisco watched the three teenagers, a vein in his forehead pulsing dangerously.

"Laura…" Tim began, but was cut off as Laura held her hand out in front of her.

"Don't 'Laura' me, brother! Leave Antonio-"

"Well, he does seem to have gotten everyone quite off-topic, hasn't he?" Francisco growled in a low voice, shooting his son a dirty look. Antonio chortled softly and shrugged his shoulders, taking a seat on the sofa. Tim heaved a deep breath and sat down next to him. Laura, after a moment, followed, sitting on the other side of Antonio. Francisco pressed his lips together so tightly, they seemingly disappeared from his face, and sat down next to Lovino. The child hastily scooted away from him.

"So, why did you three come here?"

Tim cleared his throat loudly and began to speak.

"Recent tensions with Siberia and the Baltics have worsened, while our other allies in the Mediterranean are rethinking their current alliances and debating whether or not to throw their lot with them. To make matters worse, several prominent kingdoms in the Orient are also making alliances with Serbia. The Nobles and the Church are in an uproar, it's bedlam. So, we were instructed by the ruling family of the Netherlands- the Hoensbroecks- to tell you to head to Madrid, so the old families can reaffirm their loyalties during the conference, three weeks from now."

Lovino furrowed his brow, at a complete loss as to what he was talking about. Hoensbroecks… Orient… Old families… They all sounded familiar, but they didn't hold any meaning to the young child. He reached for his mug, the barbajada, now cold, and downed the rest of its contents. Francisco nodded, his expression, impassive.

"Will Britannia be participating, or have they betrayed the Empire as well?" he asked. Tim shrugged dismissively.

"Ik denk van niet," he answered, "Britannia is a madhouse as well. The Kirklands and the Tudors are going at each other's throats, and their doddering fool of a king, is powerless to stop them." Francisco let out a harsh bark of laughter and slapped his knees.

"Ah, the famous Tudor-Kirkland feud, violent enough to put the legendary Starks and Lannisters to shame. Perros pendencieros, the lot of them. It's a miracle they haven't torn their land apart, already." Francisco sneered and turned his attention to Lovino, who froze. "Rest assured, I'll be there, but first… I have to instruct my new servant." Lovino looked away to hide the unpleasantness twisting his face into an acerbic scowl.

Antonio gave his father a concerned look. "Papá," he began, "what are you planning? He's just a-"

"Silence, Antonio," stormed Francisco, his eyes flashing with a murderous lightning. "You are to hold your tongue around me. I'm your father, or have you forgotten that while in Barcelona? Perhaps I should see that you work in the fields."

Antonio snorted, unfazed by the caustic sardonicism in his father's voice. "Yes, and eat Coca leaves everyday to keep me going while starving to death. I'm sure the Holy Father would highly approve of that," he replied airily, as if commenting on the weather. Francisco smiled, a horrifying, almost demonic smile that invoked the worst of Lovino's nightmares. even Laura and Tim cringed at the sight of it.

"Truly, you are far more stupid than I gave you credit for," he snarled and stood up, drawing his hand back. Lovino's eyes widened. Mio dio! Is that man going to-

Francisco's hand was a blur of movement as he struck Antonio across the cheek. Tim gasped and Laura cried out, shooting up from her spot on the sofa. To the brunette's credit, he did not cry out. Instead, he sighed and calmly rubbed his throbbing red cheek, looking thoroughly bored.

"You're getting old, you slapped me harder when I was a baby." He rolled his eyes and leaned back, propping his legs on the coffee table. Francisco bared his teeth in a virulent scowl, his hands twitching.

"You," he snarled, "have until the end of today to pack up and leave the city. If you aren't gone by the time the sun sets, you will wish that you never set foot in here!" His voice was a thunderclap in the taut silence, exploding in their ears. Startled, Lovino dropped his mug, the ceramic shattering into a million fragments. Antonio sighed and brushed off his sleeves, raking his fingers through his wavy locks.

"Fine, but where is mom?" He stood up, stretching his arms. Francisco snorted and narrowed his eyes.

"She is with the others at the marketplace. Any more questions?" He added the last sentence as a challenge, as if daring his son to be flippant. Antonio flexed his shoulders and rubbed his cheek once more.

"No, you made it pretty clear I'm not welcome here," he replied evenly and left the room. The others watched him go, their faces aghast. Laura made a noise of protest, but was stopped from further action by her brother, who placed a hand on her shoulder and silently shook his head.

"Y-you!" she cried out, slapping Tim's hand. "How can you be so relaxed about the whole ordeal?" Lovino swallowed a lump in his throat, desperately trying to ignore the sinking feeling in his stomach. If his first three hours here was a good indicator of how his time serving the Carriedos was going to go… Well… Fuck. He thought the other families that had visited his nonno's mansion before were whacked, but clearly, this family took the cake and limonata.

"Can't believe my son… acting so crass in the presence of a new worker…" Francisco muttered under his breath in a furious stream. Lovino raised his eyebrows, tilting his head to the side. Really? he thought, I'm pretty sure you were the one who struck him. Rarely, had he seen a parent strike their child. Especially, over a few petty, mildly impudent, words. If a man could treat his son like that, how would he treat his workers?

Fuck.

He rubbed his elbows, feeling the warmth seep out of the room. He felt as if the air was pressing in, becoming a lead weight that pressed against his chest, suffocating him. Francisco turned around to face him, terrifying with the darkness that was all-too-evident on his face. Lovino shrank back, afraid of the man's next action.

"Laura, Tim," he snipped brusquely. The blondes stiffened, their posture tense.

"Ja?" Tim answered, looking up with a blank expression. Laura bit her bottom lip, looking down at the folds in her skirt, appearing rather put out.

"I need you to leave so I can speak with this child here. You see, this is a delicate matter that I would prefer to not have bandied about, as such, I require privacy."

Laura's head shot up, she looked indignant. "We would never-" Tim clapped his hand over her mouth, muffling the rest of her angry words. He dipped his head down briefly.

"Of course," he said and stood up, grabbing his sister's arm and forcing her to stand. "Let's leave, Laura." He dragged a sputtering Laura out of the room, leaving Lovino alone with Francisco. For a split second, Lovino contemplated running away, to never come back; however, a second look at Francisco's face told him that'd be a foolish move.

With a noisy sigh, Francisco collapsed on the sofa across from Lovino, giving the child a rueful smile. Lovino was convinced he was faking his tiredness, but why? "You know…" trailed Francisco. Lovino narrowed his eyes, giving him a guarded look. Seeing it, Francisco chortled lowly.

"Suspicious, no?"

"Why wouldn't I be?" Lovino shot back tartly before he could stop himself. His gut constricted, he doubled over as if he'd been punched, facepalming himself. Fortunately, Francisco just gave him one of his twisted smiles and began to tap his fingertips together.

"That's good, it will serve you well in the future."

Lovino cocked his left eyebrow, unable to keep the curiosity off his face.

"But, as I was saying," Francisco continued, "being the leader of a powerful and large family, such as my own, is a tiresome task." He heaved an exaggerated sigh, assuming a world-weary expression. "You have many enemies. People that you must make an example out of, and defend against." Lovino watched him with a growing apprehension. He did not like where this was heading. "You do know of poison, right?"

Lovino dug his nails into his thigh, wincing from the small shock of pain that jolted through him. "I do remember my nonno was poisoned, once, about two years ago. It was arsenic," he admitted. Francisco's mouth curled into a devious smile.

"So, you know what it was?" he asked, his face the perfect picture of condescending arrogance. Lovino's face was a blank mask as he replied:

"I overheard nonno's assistant discussing it with the Priest who came over to heal him." Lovino took a deep breath, his eyelids fluttering. Though it was a bright, sunny day- not too hot, nor too cold- he couldn't shake off the numbing chill that had settled in.

Francisco nodded slowly, stroking his chin. "Veo," he mused. Lovino stiffened, still as a statue. "Romulus mentioned that you were good with plants," Francisco continued, "tell me about that." Lovino inhaled deeply, releasing his breath slowly.

"I just like to take care of them, is all. Though, I do know a few good herbal remedies, but such skill was never needed at home." He made a face. "Feliciano always took care of the crisis, whether it be a stubbed toe or a broken leg."

Francisco chuckled, highly amused. Lovino breathed sharply, biting the inside of his cheek, grimacing at the coppery taste of blood as his teeth sliced the muscle. "Now, can you tell me about Romulus's assistant?"

Lovino gaped incredulously at the man, completely lost. "Why?" he asked bluntly. Francisco snorted and rolled his eyes.

"Did you ever consider that he was no mere assistant?"

Maybe it was the tone, as if he was speaking to a dimwitted child. Maybe it was just today's events pushing him to his limit, but Lovino's temper flared. He hissed, his knuckles turning bone-white as he clenched them tightly. He looked down, hiding his choleric scowl.

"What the hell are you getting at?"

Francisco snickered, his canines gleaming as he flashed Lovino a wicked grin. "Perhaps he was a Poisoner."

Lovino's jaw dropped, his anger evaporating completely. A Poisoner? He snorted, choking back a laugh. That had to be the most ridicolo notion ever. Poisoners were for fucked up families like the Carriedos. They worked in the shadows, brewing fearsome venoms to give enemies a horrid death and worked tirelessly to prevent a man such as Francisco, from being poisoned. Never mind that he probably deserved a good dose of belladonna. Besides, his nonno had the luxury of a town Priest, he would often make house calls to cure such maladies. There was no way in hell that Romulus's assistant was actually a Poisoner.

"Pfft…" He rolled his eyes, looking up at the vaulted ceiling. Francisco leaned forward, resting his chin on clasped hands.

"It isn't such a ridiculous concept, little one. Priests that actually value helping people and become Healers are pitifully few and far between. I'm sure the Priest back where you live is quite strained from work, and Romulus is a prominent-"

"How do you know so much about my Nonno?" Lovino demanded, his anger taking over once more. Francisco's eyes closed into little slits, his mouth twisting downwards in a subtle frown.

"Be careful, watch your tongue or your bravery will be the end of you," he hissed. Lovino blanched, his mouth becoming dry as cotton. "However, I will indulge you and tell you this much, child. Your parents and I knew each other, once. Though, we were hardly friends."

Lovino grimaced, shuddering at the thought of his famiglia knowing this man. It felt wrong that they should be associated with someone so cruel and callous. Though his memories of them were faint, he remembered them to be warm and loving. Never, would they of condoned Francisco's earlier actions of hitting his son.

"Still, back on topic…" He gave Lovino a piercing look, daring the child to interrupt him one more time. Lovino kept silent, swallowing the lump that had swelled up in his throat. "Romulus is a respected and wealthy man and as such, a target for many people who are resentful of his power. It would hardly be fair to the other residents of the city if the Priest was over, tending to him every time he ingested something deadly, would it?" His smile was cruel, his voice, cold and mocking.

A muscle in Lovino's jaw twitched, but he kept silent. Francisco laughed softly and leaned back, crossing his legs. "You're probably wondering as to what all of this has to do with you, though. Aren't you?"

Lovino nodded reluctantly, "." He bit his bottom lip, studying the ceramic fragments scattered on the floor. Francisco looked down and saw the shattered mug. He sighed and waved his hand lazily.

"The servants will take care of that. You, little one, have far more pressing concerns."

Lovino's head shot up. He clenched his hands tightly in his lap, the fabric of his tunic crumpled in his grip. "Such as what?" he retorted. Francisco's reply was slow in coming. A tense silence filled the air between them. Then…

"I want you to become the Carriedo family Poisoner."


Ok… since I'm a lazy-ass… I'm going to leave this chapter here. XD Next chapter will be for Feliciano, then we'll be jumping back to Lovino… then we'll get about one more chapters of each of the Vargas brothers before this arc ends. Then we'll be getting an 8 year time-skip… and then…

SHIT. HITS. THE. FAN.

Seriously… I have about 4 arcs planned for this story… This arc… Which focuses on the changes the Vargas brothers are facing. Then the second arc, which focuses on the consequences of them being separated for so long (While introducing, or reintroducing, a horrible dick who you will want to see die VERY much) and the drama that ensues thanks to their new relationships. The third arc is sweet, almost slice-of-life and will be on the short side compared to arcs 2 and 4, and the fourth arc…

Oh… em… gee… the fourth arc, you guys will want to murder me for. It focuses on the Empire's relations with Britannia, and it's guaranteed to be the most gory and disturbing out of the arcs… Not to mention, most of the character deaths will occur in the fourth arc.

In short… Here's how it's going to line up.

1st Arc: Fairly short, not too much action, but establishes a general idea of character relationships. Interaction-heavy.

2nd Arc: Has the most drama and political intrigue. It's going to be about the same length as the 4th arc.

3rd Arc: Focuses on how much relationships have improved and features several side characters and their relationships.

4th Arc: The fucking mind-screw arc… will mess you up…

Also, I had this brilliant idea to make this story semi-historical fantasy… So… The world map is somewhat similar, and you'll be seeing references to famous historical figures and incidents… not to mention poison techniques and stuff… Oh… and since this is Lovino's POV… Here's the random plant fact!

Random Plant Factoid #1: The coca leaf is the unprocessed form of cocaine, and in this state, it is a mild, non-addictive stimulant which suppresses hunger and thirst. It does not produce a psychological dependence and is rich in essential minerals such as calcium. In the americas, the Spanish used the Coca leaves to keep their slaves working quickly all day with little food, water, and rest. Cool, huh? (The Coca leaf properties, not the horrific abuse of workers' rights)

Now… time for the appreciation time! I just want to thank all of you! I'm so fucking happy, I'm crying tears of joy… no lie… It's actually thanks to all your love that i updated so quickly. 6 favorites and 6 follows for one chapter? QwQ You guys are really the best… Time to reply to those that actually reviewed though!

Once again… Thank you all!

Reviewer Replies

Specialgirlz: Well… here's an update! Poor Lovino… Francisco is such a dick ;u; Will he survive his time here? Only time can tell O3O

Dogsrule: Well… wait no longer! :D Thanks so much! I hope this story only gets more awesome with time!

Translation notes:

Bastardo (Italian)- Bastard

Mucho mejor (Spanish)- Much better

Sì, signore (Italian)- Yes, sir

Hola, papá (Spanish)- Hi, dad

Ik denk van niet (Dutch)- I don't think so

Perros pendencieros (Spanish)- Quarrelsome dogs

Mio dio! (Italian)- My god!

Limonata (Italian)- Lemonade

Ja (It's Dutch as well as German)- Yes

Ridicolo (Italian)- Ridiculous

Famiglia (Italian)- Family