La Serenissima by Secret Heart

.: Standard Disclaimer :.

Many Thanks again, to Madam Hawke and Silly.

And thanks for all the reviews that keep this fic going: Grazie porteboit, Lady Tristana Rogue, koldy, malignacious, jadedmind, STEEL, mina2x, The Cuteness, WHEN?.

And please, continue reviews: I would love to know what you think of it, good or bad!

Tamdiu discendum est, quamdiu vivas

We should learn as long as we may live. (Seneca Philosophus) -

Chapter 4

Serenity sauntered towards the imposing archway that marked the entrance to Endymion's loggia. It was not a palazzo as his father's was, but nevertheless, it was equally if not more grandiose.

While other Italian cities were already embracing the new humanist characteristics of Renaissance in their architecture, Venice clung to the gilded style of the Medieval Ages.

Laced with decorations, the pillars supporting the facade gave way to the pointed late-Gothic broken arches. Serenity grinned: above the arches were the humanist curves, a homage that she believed Endymion was paying to his Florentine education.

Byzantine art and rich Venetian tapestries flanked the hallways of the interior, clashing with the memory that flooded Serenity: that of the art of Michelangelo and da Vinci adorning the walls of Florentine churches.

So it seemed that she decided to pay a visit to Endymion after all. It was a sign that she was willing to take the risk of befriending him again.

For old time's sake.

Of course, she could not stay for long. In a short while, she must get prepared herself, for the San Marco procession was this evening. She would be acting as a companion to one of the dignitaries of Venice.

Thanking the servant for guiding her, she stepped through the intricately carved wooden doors and into another world.

The library was spacious: the vaulted ceiling was high with pointed, ribbed embellishments, allowing natural light to penetrate to all corners of the room. Even in the late afternoon, Serenity could see clearly the lush bindings of the manuscripts: all were done with the Cavalli code of arms embedded onto the spines; the colour of burgundy velvet looked luxurious, enhanced by the golden edges. It looked as if rose-coloured wine spilled lovingly across the bindings of the codices.

She spied Endymion on a ladder, reaching for several manuscripts.

He looked so disarmingly cute: his tight derriere perked out from his leggings as he tried to grab a hold of the books. He nearly lost his precarious balance.

Serenity's light laughter revealed her presence to him.

Endymion spun his head around, and exclaimed: "My dear Sery, you caught me in a most compromising situation."

"Si, seeing Endy awkwardly losing his balance is indeed compromising. What would the swooning ladies think now when they learn that you are easily unmanned by a mere a stack of manuscripts?"

Pretending to be indignant, he responded: "E, I'll have you know these are no mere manuscripts."

Serenity laughed throatily, thoroughly amused at Endymion's lack of concern for his self-image. He seemed to care more about art than reality. She heard some say that Endymion was too intellectual, with no grasp of real life.

Would he ever understand her situation, and why she chose this path in life - this vocation as a courtesan, instead of what could have been? Or would he use ideals and misplaced chivalry to blame her for the choices she had made?

Quickly pushing the unheeded thoughts aside, she smiled at him, and said: "Let me help you then, Endy."

Stretching her arms to the dusty bindings, she almost sneezed.

"Sorry, I've not touched some of these for months," he said gruffly, in an almost apologetic tone.

While climbing down from the heights of the library, Endymion, ever the scholar, launched himself into an explanation of his collections.

Fascinated with the parchments in her possession, she half-listened.

"… I paid several scribes to help me translate the Greek texts. That was an easy task due to the unfortunate annexation of the Byzantine empire by the Ottoman Turks. I'm sure you know very well that many Byzantine ambassadors sought for asylum in this city, and many brought with them educated scribes equipped with the knowledge of Greek and Latin. I also acquired a few original medieval manuscripts from a nearby scriptorium, and several I ordered from Rome. Some secular tales too, such as the French romances, lay in my possession. If you notice here carefully, I have also started to collect printed books. A man named Gutenberg invented this peculiar idea of printing some forty years ago, and only lately did Venice adopt the methods. I still value the handwritten method though. Hence, I have collected many manuscripts which you see housed in here…"

Finally noticing that Serenity was quite absorbed in one of the manuscripts, he leant over to her near the burgundy lectern.

She looked up, with a curious delight that he thought he would never see again on her features.

"The calligraphy here is beautiful."

Her hands graced tenderly the etchings and the glowing illuminations on the aged leaves. Her reverence and awe for the manuscript struck Endymion as a good omen: he was starting to see a glimpse of the old Serenio in Serenity.

"Yes, this was done by a monk in the 13th century. As you can see by the title and content, it is the latin text of Cicero's letters. I found it when I was excavating the storage areas of the Laurentian library in Florence, and Lorenzo allowed me to keep it."

Mesmerized by the details, she continued to stare at the manuscript.

"Actually this book is quite humourous to peruse through. See here - " Serenity's hand moved aside as he began to flip the pages further on, trying to find the correct leaf.

" - Eccovela qui! Here it is - see here, the pages of the parchment were not cut properly, and look at the marginalia here." He pointed, and gauged her reaction.

She read it out loud.

"This manuscript is hard to bear with; the content is entirely uninteresting. Cicero is satanic beyond redemption."

A smile crept into her voice. She read on.

"…my hands are well worn, and yet I copy on meticulously, in fear that the cardinal - or god - would take it upon them to tear my fingers apart, rip my heart out, and ship me off to the hellish fires of the inferno."

"So what do you think about it?"

"I think that this monkish scribe seems utterly superstitious, but in reality he isn't! How funny to think that he thought the cardinal might fling him into the depths of hell, and yet, he could be so courageous as to write so bitingly against the text of the manuscript. It's as if he was defying the dogma of Catholicism, and dare to write his own opinions next to the text that the cardinal ordered him to transcribe."

He smiled, enjoying her thoughtful analysis.

Serenio and he had always managed to think alike, and even with the passing of time, their opinions remained the same.

"Yes, that is what I think too. The hypocrisy of institutionalized religion had existed for centuries, and yet, the church - and the eternal Rome - lives on."

"Did you hear about the new pope? Alexander VI … he is quite a character, I must say."

Endymion sneered.

"Yes, of course. What can you suspect, when he hails from the notorious Borgia family? Begetting four children while he was a cardinal, and now, publicly flaunting his mistress Vanozza Catanei … he will indeed bring down the prestige of our religion … "

Little did he know that he predicted quite correctly the events to come in the next century.

They moved on to other texts. Serenity was secretly amused at the fact that on one of the shelves, Endymion placed a work of Cicero, the 'satanic' ancient Roman orator and writer, right next to the bible. Of course, he was not really evil, merely that most religious figures would frown at any literary work written by the ancient pagans. She always thought that Endymion was fervently religious, but his library collection said otherwise about him. Surprised at this, she wondered how many more new revelations he would toss at her.

Meanwhile, Endymion was silently fascinated at the way Serenity treated each book with quiet amazement and care. He had never known females to be so interested in books and manuscripts, or, in fact, in pure knowledge.

In fact, he had never brought a female to this corner of his lair, let alone a courtesan …

Why exactly did he invite her here?

Here in this library was the private space for his refuge: a place where the burdens of being born with privilege could be ignored; a place where he could be blissfully solitary, alone with his thoughts and his inked pen to freely write across the loose pages of parchment.

But of course, he was not about to tell her this. He would not want her to have the upper hand, or to read too much into this. Hell, he did not even want to read too much into this. He banished thoughts of this enigma away, concentrating on explaining the peculiar details of his latest acquisition to Serenity.

And thus, both are engrossed in the calligraphy, in the glint of gold on the leaves, and in each other, unaware of the soft dusk that slowly settled in the room. The latin and greek treasures laid glowingly under the tangerine hues of the sunset: shadows elongated, stretching and merging into the dark cornices.

After a while, the blond courtesan summed up her observations: "Endy, your collection is marvellous! This library feels like the legendary collection in Urbino that I've only read in faerie tales ..."

Endymion replied: "Faerie tales? I assure you, the brilliant court of Urbino is real, and so is their library."

He saw her eyes sparkled, and continued: "You should travel there one day: many women and courtesans there are nearly as brilliant as you…"

Serenity dreamily answered, gazing at a remote corner of the deckled pages in front of her: "Someday, I guess … "

Her fingers, drawn to the contours of the uniquely shaped book, she traced it slowly down its spine.

"Anyway, Endy, this library is great enough. I absolutely love the gilded bindings, and not only that, your choices of literature are fascinating. You have Cicero, Ovid, Petrarch, and even the devious Machiavelli's works, who I've heard so much about when I lived in Firenze."

"Yes he used to live in the loggia next to mine, until he was exiled into the outskirts of the rural farmlands…"

At the mention of Florence in such a personal manner, Serenity suddenly felt uneasy: the memory of a distraught young pubescent girl with short hair and in a boy's attire, crying at the fact that her best friend never said goodbye to her … the fleeting image of a woman who took care of her so lovingly, the colours of her face, beige and grey, bleeding and tainted by the recollection of a brutal man, and an equally brutal parting of a mother and a child.

A canvas of her youth rose before her mind, impenetrable by Endymion.

Seeing her forlorn look, and at the way her shoulders sagged beneath the weight of unpleasasnt thoughts. He wanted to kiss her frown away.

Without being conscious of his actions, unaware of the consequences, he bent his head and kissed her softly. For a moment, she reacted naturally, leaning closer into him.

For a moment, even the library did not exist.

Jolted by a sense of resentfulness, she pulled back suddenly. Her eyes narrowed with suspicion. "Endymion, you promised me …"

He tried to recollect himself. He wanted more than just this fleeting kiss … but with the way she was looking right now, he was afraid that she would have to be dead before he could touch her again.

And he did not want her dead. Far from it.

He ran his hands through his ebony hair. "Sery…" He didn't know what to say. How can you explain the force of attraction? He didn't even know where it came from. The enigma of love between a man and a woman, hell, between any two human beings, was inexplicable.

And here was Sery, trying to demand an explanation from him!

Serenity inched away from him, afraid of what he would say, and even more afraid of what what he would leave unsaid.

"Endy, this is not right … I thought you just wanted to be friends. That I could be ready for, maybe, but anymore is impossible." Getting worked up in her speech, she felt happy that she could blame her uneasiness on Endy's past behaviour.

How else could she explain away the way she felt when he branded her with the softest and most giving kiss she had ever received? She felt that she had betrayed her own past. She could not let Endymion into her life, not before he could clarify his abandonment on their fast and youthful friendship. She did not know if they could be friends, let alone … more than that…

She could not let her guard down. Clearly, Endymion's renown for enticing countless ladies to fall for him was accurate, and he was using his weapon of practiced seduction with extraordinary flair. She had to give him that much.

But his frustration turned into cruelty.

Before she explained herself, he uttered: "For heaven's sakes, Serenity, what's wrong? Granted, we have just met each other, but I'm sure in your line of work, you're used to getting to know your companions in short notice…"

At the way he insinuated, Serenity looked away. So … this was how he thought about her career. Her question has been answered. She turned towards the doors that once seemed the gates to paradise. She laughed inwardly. They now seemed like the entrance to hell.

Why didn't she expect this? She should never have come, she thought as she walked was about to exit the library.

Endymion, slow to comprehend the hurtful words he thrown at her, suddenly felt remorseful.

"Wait. Sery! I'm .. I'm sorry …I di- I didn't mean to offend you. I was just frustrated at your actions, which seem so incongruous to … your line of work. What's wrong with getting to know each other better? There's nothing wrong if I find you attractive and beautiful and intelligent, and that I would want to act on my desire …"

"You don't understand, do you?" Serenity replied, resignedly.

"Understand what?"

"Understand the fact that a young child would be traumatized by the fact that her best friend left the city without a call, or even a note!"

Struggling with his thoughts, he could barely grasp at the reality of what he had done to Serenity. "I didn't know that you would be so bothered by that. And anyway, I - "

"Of course I would be concerned about it! My best friend! I thought the worst of your fate - I mean, in a twelve-year-old's mind, all sorts of wild imaginative scenarios occurred! I thought you drowned by that river we played in, I thought you were punished by your father for sneaking into Villa Careggi…"

Endymion grimaced. "You always did have a good instinct."

Still sceptical, she looked at him through hooded eyes. "You mean, my instinct that we should never be more than friends is good?"

Endymion became exasperated, and tried to hone in his impatience. Perhaps she did not understand the exact context of his so-called 'abandonment'.

"But that's the thing, Sery. We didn't even part. I couldn't come and find you - "

"No, you could've written to me. You could've run back to find me …"

"But I couldn't! Don't you understand? My father detained me. He wouldn't let anyone out of the house. Even if I wanted to send a servant out with a message, it would not have even be successful. Don't you see? You were nearly right, my dad did become suspicious of the activities in Lorenzo Medici's Academy at Careggi. That was the reason why he didn't renew his contract as the condotierri: he heard the rumours about the going-ons at the Villa, and since it was too close to our loggia, we had to leave."

"What do you mean too close to your house? It wasn't that near - "

"Stop being so obstinate, Sery! You don't get it, do you? Not even after you've seen the way my father acts: ever the patriarch, ever the good Catholic! He'd been listening to Savonarola's sermons on how evil Florentine society had become, how an unnatural disorder had set in the lower states of Italy. And hearing about Lorenzo and his friends … and their nearly heretic philosophies and their loves for each other …"

"You mean, non-heterosexual love. "

"Si, that. Their platonic ideals and their platonic loves are sometimes, well, more than just platonic, and to outsiders, it might seem sacrilegious."

"But that's only because they believe that through the love of brotherhood and fraternity, they could come to a higher understanding of the essence of life."

He looked at her wryly. "Well, I'm sure my father doesn't know that, and even if you told him, he would say it's a bunch of sacrilegious bull."

"Then…"

"Yes, by his decree, he made us all swear that we would never associate with anyone who went to Careggi. And he warned that if he knew any servant of the household or any member of the family who was linked with them, he would disown us."

She began to understand the implication of his anger at their first meeting in Venice. "Si. Hmm, and I have always wondered why you reacted so angrily when I mentioned the name Darien that night when we met …"

"Oh I didn't tell you the best part of this sordid and sad little tale. You see, my father got a list of all the attendees at the Academy. He was able to identify all the people, but he could never figure out who the real character behind the pseudonym Darien is."

"And you couldn't risk your father's order?"

He hesitated, careful that he was treading on dangerous grounds.

" ... No, not then. But now, honestly, I don't know. I don't really care what happens anymore. He doesn't like the way I conduct my life. It's not like he doesn't have his own secret liaisons outside of his marriage with my mother, but he disproves of the way I do it so publicly, and how my closest friends are all artists and philosophers. He thinks those people are of no use in life. One must do the 'civic duty', and be a politician, or be a lawyer. But all lawyers are felons anyway, and politicians, well," he shrugged, "they're all corrupted."

Serenity began to warm up to him, finally realizing that the errors of youth were just that: youthful mistakes. She could not fault his compliance to his father's instructions, and yet, she could not help but feel that he could at least have made the effort to contact her in some way.

Still trying to disagree with anything he said, she retorted. "Well, civic humanists like Coluccio Salutati wouldn't agree with you there."

"But they're of a bygone era. Nowadays, most politicians would turn a blind eye towards crime for a few florins. And anyway, I stay out of my father's way, and that's how I've dealt with the past, I guess. I hated the way I had to meekly follow his orders … sometimes when the past surfaces back into my consciousness, I do regret breaking ties so abruptly with all my Florentine acquaintances. I despised him so much, of wrenching me away from a solid Florentine education. Do you happen to know the way we pass through adolescence in Venice?"

She shook her head.

"Ah it's better for you not to have known. But how else can you rationalize away the abundant amount of courtesans and prostitutes in Venezia? Schoolmasters here send their students to the brothels." He leered contemptuously. "They think little of a rounded education. Instead, they believe that learning how to fuck properly is the most essential part of growing up."

Serenity was not shocked at his words, but she felt the need to appease his anger. She realized that he left his childhood through bitterness … perhaps she should not have prejudged his behaviour, not before she learned of the context. After all, the idiom 'do not judge a book by its cover' was universally valid.

With the skill of a well-trained courtesan, she turned Endymion's thoughts back to the present. She did not know why she had to comfort him, but only that she had to.

And once again, he felt content. Talking to Sery like this, as if they were young once again, as if she was a male comrade: this made him feel elated.

He did not know why.

You're the only one who knows me now, Sery…

Wow I got carried away by this chapter. There's still a little bit more of this "library" scene, but I'll post it on in a week (not done editing). Anyway … I'm tired. And it was not suppose to be as long as it is now. Oops. Did anyone notice that I love the history of books?

Please review! Thanks!

Terms:

Codices: plural of 'codex', which is a manuscript volume, otherwise known as the ancestor of what we call the 'book'.

Eccovela qui: Here it is

Notes:

Pope Sixtus IV (reigned from 1471-1484); Pope Alexander VI (from 1492-1503). I wrote that Endymion correctly predicted that Pope Alex. would bring down the religion … in fact, it was one of the reasons that led Martin Luther to protest in 1517, thus creating the great division in Christianity.

Savonarola was a Dominican friar and prophet (1452-1498). He preached in Florence and led a puritanical moral crusade; prophesizing the collapse of the Medici rule. He was later hanged for acts of treason.

The Academy at Villa Careggi was real, but the "persecution" of the members of Academy is entirely fabricated, at least to my knowledge.