HABEMUS PAPAM
My conclave fic is on ao3 now <3
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
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Thomas carried the little thing in his hands.
The sun had warmed up its shell to a comfortable heat, and he could imagine the little turtle in his hands humming softly in tune with the sun and the wind.
His feet moved across the lawn towards the pond built twelve years ago, from where the turtles liked to escape. He smiled as he lowered it to the water.
It. Or was the turtle a he? Perhaps the thing was a little girl, Thomas couldn’t be sure. And, as he had recently discovered, gender was not all that clear. If he could not tell the difference between a male and a female turtle, who's to say it even mattered?
In the grand scheme of God's marvellous creation, of skies and mountains, turtles and whales, why would such a small detail about a person matter? He, himself, had never felt completely comfortable within his own body, though perhaps that had more to do with his self-loathing, as Aldo put it.
What had Vincent called them? Small, petty men. Entirely focused on power and Rome, not on healing or peace. Thomas realised that he had been right — for these last few days, the cardinals had proven themselves unworthy of the papacy. All of them, except one.
A booming sound of applause and cheer echoed across the marbled courtyard. It brought him out of his musings, and Thomas looked up and saw the white smoke rising from the chimney.
At last, they had their Father.
He breathed out a sigh of relief and smiled once more at the little turtle, now swimming happily amongst the others, before he began his walk back to the Sistine.
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