A/N:Sorry for the wait, and thank you for the interest!

Chapter 3:

Chiaro tossed and turned around a constricting force. The force aroused a frustrated growl and impenetrable arms to encircle him chokingly. The assassin clutched at the restraint equally frustrated and very much agitated. Finally choosing his direct approach Chiaro shifted to face the invisible offender: he nearly squeaked. A very much awake Cesare Borgia locked his gaze to the blonde, carefully he absorbed in miniscule detail his much desired reality of trapping a flustered Chiaro.

Chiaro was positive that Cesare did not look pleased, after all their previous travels Chiaro knew of the Borgia's dislike for early mornings. Of course to Chiaro the very essence of an early bird was draped through him, to avoid smugglers, visit his deceased father, and complete complied missions. At best Chiaro knew how to wake up, sleeping...well that is another matter in itself. Chiaro attempted futile actions praying for some distance from the other, but Cesare's infuriating hold perplexed him more, just how did someone as slender as Cesare manage to subdue a trained Chiaro?

He gulped. "H-hey Cesare? What are you doing?" The darkette raised a brow.

"What does it look like? Really Chiaro, you haven't changed at all. Still refusing to budge even a little for my sleep." He motioned away allowing Chiaro room to sit, a pout once gracing svelte his features.

Chiaro gazed offended, "What do you mean!?"

"We were sleeping until someone began to shake in a crazed fit, and I was terribly comfortable." He coiled one particularly long strand of hair patiently, "So, what do you have to say for yourself, Chiaro?"

A smile ghosted over the blonde's agitated features and soon enough he bursted in laughter, despite their differences the two men could still find simple moments like these to enjoy each other's attention. Cesare warmed at the melodious sound and soon found himself engaged in the rich laughter. For both men the banter was a fresh relief, for Chiaro it was hope that the Cesare he had first met still existed somewhere.

Then Cesare ceased in his movements, "Chiaro."

Stomach clutched, Chiaro turned to the Borgia, "What is it?" Cesare motioned forward, his long limbs popping as he stood.

"I have some errands to attend to, I won't be long." Before the door slides shut in place Cesare transfers into a creme robe, pausing momentarily to give the assassin a dour stare, grim message translating to Chiaro as: "do not even think about speaking to anyone." Chiaro gave a jittery but understanding grin, limping to Cesare's orderly shelf stacked with various novels. Chiaro skimmed past titles stopping at an intriguing tale and resuming his rest on the inviting bed.

xxx

Boredom sooner dawned Chiaro and the found himself back at the no-longer-orderly shelf, grabbing a seemingly more interesting book than before he propped himself back on the bed and opened the leather bond title.

x

Chiaro felt an engulfing heat surround him. Flames darted behind as he ran quickly in darkness causing him to stumble on a round mass, the mass proceeded to pull him back and into a nameless red pool. The closer he moved towards an inch of light the clearer his vision became. The darkness has metamorphosed into a stone complex, the stones were carefully designed in intricate lines and swirls, but as he approached the stones they cleared and a mound rose from the pale rubble. The mound smoothed out and open flames lit flowing upward to reveal an endless abundance of stars, the stars bursted and formed a stairway. He opened his eyes to find himself laid upon what he believed to be an altair. His heart drummed away at a pinning feeling of despair. Trapped, Chiaro became encompassed on a heavy thickness in the pit of his stomach, and as he moved to find it deathly arms fanned all around him they spanned out like millions of shooting stars. He choked.

Chiaro awoke with a cry, his heart raced thumping like the torturous tremors of inflicting hands, and his face glazed in glistening sweat. Just a dream..., he reminded himself. Chiaro moved his arm ferociously at the winding numbness. He glanced at the discarded book. He must have dozed off, not for too long, he countered by the amber hues that ribboned past glass windows.

Chiaro leaned on his sole arm sluggishly- to his peace far too soon due to the fervid opening of the once shut door. An ablaze Cesare pivoted towards a welcoming chair.

"Those imbeciles! You would imagine with my efforts they would be more grateful." Chiaro stared amassed at the seething Cesare, he held onto the bed's wooden frame for leverage.

"Basta! Calm down you're not acting like yourself." Chiaro piped feeling a sense of déjà vu as he visualized an intoxicated Cesare and a moonlit phantom. At the thought of his own befuddled embarrassment the blonde's' gaze lingered away.

The Borgia's golden hues followed the assassins movements appreciatively. While the council's disagreement and tomfoolery erupted more agitation from the noble, the box combs would all fall into his well calculated hands. He reasoned that Chiaro's presence must have restrained some of his impertinence for if not those men would be dead. This was the opposite for a said Chiaro who deliciously refused his dictated obedience.

Chiaro's golden orbs moved promptly to sneak a peek at his friend's expression as the abrupt silence troubled him. Again. Chiaro groaned, the demons were all and about, causing unpredicted shivers. It was true that he once before believed in the dull probability of breaking the Borgia's cold exterior but, with all pitted against the assassin, fate left no room bargaining. Chiaro shuddered as golden orbs locked with his, predatorily Cesare stalked forward, I don't like this kind of Cesare.Chiaro paled, especially when he's possessed! Now, Chiaro was not devoted in faith as many Italians, but clung to the lord when needed. He reasoned that at the moment, his desperate pleas should be heard.

Chiaro screwed his eyes shut praying that the spirit of Vanozza would touch the Borgia's confused soul, and that Cesare was moving towards the discarded book and not himself. A frigid hand caressed his apricot cheek tenderly as Chiaro stifled a gasp and peeled his eyes apart. Amethyst orbs stared back patiently before speaking.

"Did you know...That the most frightening thing for me...is the thought that deep down in my heart, I fear that you will once again leave me." Cesare's eyes fluttered.

Chiaro pursed his lips exhaling deeply clamoring, "Oh yeah!? Well how did you think I felt!" Chiaro quickly clamped a hand over his lips shuffling several spaces back to distance himself from the Borgia.

Cesare's eyes widened in astonishment as he sprung from the bed to the side of the trembling assassin. Cesare watched as Chiaro's face rose into the loveliest shade of red, he beamed fondly at the other stepping closer and taking Chiaro in his arms. He held back his own nearing laughter, instead craning his head to the faint scent of lilies from Chiaro's golden mane. Chiaro who was far too in his musings found himself being lulled in a much needed slumber, and Cesare was more than pleased to oblige.

Night cradled the two men, as if they were boys, still much in their youth. A veil of stars weaved an untraceable map depicting the life path of Cesare and Chiaro. Controlled by carnal urges, propelled into the world, and made adults from young. Alone, and not alone, but trapped in an ambivalent wheel of their choosing. This would be the beginning of the two, but the lord would watch through their determination, and pray for the salvation of his two lost lambs. Love is to be feared, but not unappreciated for its true worth.

Chapter 3: END