Level 30 Just a blog for the band ghost!! All Papas are good Papas but Copia is my favourite. Feel free to send asks, & my inbox is always open! Minors DNI please.
So! We are finally here! Nearly three years ago I started this silly little fic which was inspired by a prompt from @running-ace21 I didn't plan for it to take me this long but it happened and the closer I got to the end the stronger I felt about giving this story and these characters the perfect ending. I don't know if I can say this is perfect but I am happy with it and I hope you all will be too.
Thank you to everyone that has ever commented, reblogged, liked, sent me an ask or simply just read the fic. The support has been overwhelming and has meant so much to me. I truly appreciate every single one of you.
A special shout out needs to go to @ghostchems, @dolceterzo, @writingjourney and @delullu who have been the best cheer leaders I could ever ask for, whether helping my bounce around ideas, giving me reading live reactions, reminding me I can write and I am capable, inspiring me with their amazing contributions to this fandom and others and just generally putting up with me talking about it endlessly. I really couldn't have done it without you all. <3
A digestivo is the grand finale of any proper meal. It can be both bitter and sweet and while aiding digestion also helps prolong the joy and ambience of a well enjoyed meal. Grappa, a by product of wine production is a popular after coffee choice and is best poured straight into empty espresso cups with a touch of sugar and drunk down in one, although a second glass to be savoured is very rarely refused.
• • • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • •
It's like nothing has changed at all when you slip on your apron for the first time in months. You only need ignore the hollow feeling inside your chest. The busy work helps somewhat although you can sense the confusion at your sudden reappearance amongst your friends. It's easier than you might have thought to go through the motions, to join in the idle chatter but the questions they so clearly want to ask hang heavy in the air.
You meet Mona's eyes offering her a look you know she will understand. Later. You will explain, you will have to but you need at least a few hours to let the fresh wounds settle. Mona leads you all through the preparation, having slotted naturally into the position while you had been away. It's a welcome distraction watching her work so well and you easily fall in to step behind her, letting the the controlled chaos of the kitchen temporarily plaster over the hurt.
Too quickly it seems, everything for lunch is done. The dishwasher full, the work stations sanitised and what used to be one of your favourite times of day now fills you with a sense of anticipatory dread. Once you say it, once you tell them out loud it will all be real. Not some horrible nightmare suffered during a first night in a new bed. It will truly be over.
A hand on your shoulder shakes you from your distraction, Lilly offers you a gentle smile and a cup of tea. The walk to the office feels far more monumental then it should. What used to be so familiar now uncomfortable, your very presence an overwhelming elephant in the room. No one offers any small talk. They just sit and wait and you know now you have to rip off the plaster.
'I'm back now. For good,' you start there. It sounds simple but they know there is more so they sit and wait for you to continue.
'Sister Imperator came to tell Papa this morning.' You stop with a shaky breath. You can't tell them about anything else you heard. It's not your place and the last thing you need now is to be the source of rumours about Copia's ascension.
'I bet Papa wasn't happy!' Rich jokes awkwardly his laugh cutting off abortedly when Lilly gives him an unsubtle nudge.
'He wasn't, no.' You try to contain your heartbreak but a single tear escapes, rolling down your cheek and it's as if everyone holds their breath. Mona reaches for you first and the second her arms encircle you the dam breaks and you find yourself sobbing in her arms. There is nothing you could say, no words to explain how you were feeling but they understood enough. The quiet comfort of your friends helps so when your tears finally run dry and Mona sends Lilly and Rich to begin the dinner preparations you manage to pull yourself back together.
'We can cover tonight you know,' Mona offers as she gives you a handful of tissues. 'Go back to your room and get some rest.'
'I would rather be here I think,' you reply croakily, your voice still choked. 'I need the distraction for a little longer. Please.'
'Ok,' she offers you a sad smile and pushes your hair out of your face. 'I know it doesn't feel like it right now but it will be ok.'
'I don't know if I will be.' The hurt is crushing and yet you barely feel as if you have come to terms with it. It feels especially cruel coming after you finally admitting to him how you feel. You had one blissful night of certainty only to have it ripped away before you had even properly woken up. 'I love him Mona.'
'I know,' she replies, taking the tissues from you she wipes away the few remaining tears. 'But it will still be ok, eventually. Whether he proves himself worthy of that love or not.' You just nod, not sure if you entirely believe her.
She takes your hand, helping you to your feet. You pick up the tea things automatically busying yourself at the first opportunity and she lets you. You place them by the sink gripping the edge with your fingers, grounding yourself in the pressure. You had done this hundreds of times before and you could do it again.
It's as if your body switches into autopilot and time seems to run away. Your head blissfully empty as you lose yourself in the kitchen routines. Later it will hit you like a brick wall you are sure but at least for now you have a little peace.
• • • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • •
Like a scab you can't help but pick you find yourself looking to the upper clergy table. His place, which presumably had been vacant all this time was still empty. A void left at the centre of the table. Tears prick at your eyes for what could be the hundredth time today, the thought of him shut in his room alone once again. He may have made his choice but you didn't have to like it. You didn't like it all but it was out of your control. You refused to stand by and be his emotional punching bag every time he was hurt.
It was admittedly cruel the way that Sister Imperator had spoken to him, to tell him he must leave his home and his family. Everything that had happened to him in the last year was cruel but that didn't make it alright for him to be cruel to you in turn. You had barely touched your food as you ruminate, doing little more than push things around your plate. Despite the busy day your appetite was non existent.
'Mona,' you lean close to your friend, trying not to draw anyone else's attention. 'I'm going back to my room.' She squeezes your shoulder with a sad smile you were becoming all too familiar with.
'I can come with you,' she offers. She means well and you do appreciate it but you think you are finally ready for some time alone. In fact you need it. You only can shake your head in response.
'You know where I am if you need me.'
Being around so many people was only proving to emphasise the lack of the one person you really wished to see. You give one last glance at the main table as you get up as if he might have appeared there in the few moments since you last looked. He hadn't and instead you caught Secondo's eye. In fact it seems you may have caught the attention of the three present Emeritus brothers.
They have heard, undoubtably, you would guess from Sister Imperator rather than Terzo himself. But they must know him well enough to understand why you are here and not with him. Their eyes on you make you feel like a rabbit caught in the headlights. Quickly you turn to leave not feeling up to being subjected to their sympathy or understanding. Not when your hurt is still so raw.
A group of siblings congregated at the dining hall door delay your escape, their excited chattering making them oblivious to anyone trying to get past. You can't help but look back one last time only to see Secondo is now missing from his place and your need to leave gets all the more urgent.
With rushed apologies and excuses you push your way through the group and hurry away from the hall. Your hands begin to tremble, the inner turmoil finally breaking containment with the cold sanctuary of your room not too far away.
You round the corner only to come face to face with the last person you wanted to see. Secondo stands in the doorway of the kitchen, clearly having anticipated your path. Not wanting to be rude you at least acknowledge him with a nod as you try to hurry past but his heavy hand catches your shoulder and you have no choice but to pause.
'Sorella,' he says, stepping in front of you, blocking your path. His tone is hushed, mindful of the possibility of someone else coming around the corner at any moment. 'What ever has happened you need to talk to him.'
'No I don't,' you hiss, an anger you hadn't even acknowledged yet finding its way out of you. He takes a step back, surprised and you instantly feel bad. He was not to blame for what had happened. You take a deep breath and push your hair out of your face with still trembling hands and tried to find at least some composure.
'I'm sorry Papa but I do not.' Your voice sounds as shaky as your hands but you continue anyway. 'I will respect his wishes and if this is about anything I may have learned during my time with him please reassure him I will keep his confidence.'
'No you know its not that.' He seems frustrated and you stop yourself from wondering how his conversation with Terzo went. You can't bear to think about it 'You and he...'
'There is no him and me,' you interrupt. 'He made himself quite clear. I was there to do a job, and now that job has been completed.' It hurts just saying it out loud. Even if you are convinced he didn't really mean it. He said it and he did not take it back. 'Now if you don't mind I wish to retire for the night.' Before he can say anything you side step him and carry on your way. Your feet feel like lead, trying to keep your feelings in check all day having drained all your energy.
'Sorella you know he...' He turns as you walk past as if to follow you but you just can't do it any more.
'Please Papa no more.' Your voice cracks. Talking about it won't make it any easier, won't unsay the horrible things he said to you this morning. Whether its your voice or the way he must be able to see your eyes filling with tears he finally raises his hands in defeat.
'Good night Sorella.' He looks frustrated and sad but you have nothing left in you to try and reassure him.
'Good night Papa.' Finally free you continue on your way back to your room. The door seems to resist when you try and open it, a stiffness you hadn't anticipated making everything more difficult. You had only been away for one night and yet it felt like even your room was trying to emphasise the monumental shift your life had taken in the past day.
You don't bother switching on the light, you just pull off your clothes and collapse in to bed. It should be a comfort, your bed, your sheets, but somehow you missed the scent of him, the warmth of him beside you. It's ridiculous you know it is and yet you feel it all the same.
You cry yourself to sleep, grieving for the future you had felt on the precipice of just the night before.
• • • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • •
As you prepare for the day the notebook sits on your desk, taunting you. You aren't going to to keep it. Your conscience wouldn't let you. But that didn't help you think how you could return it without giving it to him yourself.
You couldn't go to Secondo. Not after last night but you needed it gone all the same. It comes with you to the kitchens as had been your habit since this whole thing began. It was blessedly quiet at least at this time in the morning. You had volunteered to take the breakfast shift almost as soon as you had returned and Rich was more than happy to give it up and have a lie in.
The notebook continues to play on your mind though as you loose yourself in cooking. Breakfast is a more simple affair at the Abbey, fresh bread, eggs as many ways as you could imagine, meats, cheeses, oats, salad, fruit. Teas, coffee, fruit juice and filtered water. It was simple enough. A buffet laid out for people to pick and choose and once the initial preparation was complete the only real work was replenishing over the few hours the inhabitants were given for their morning pursuits. Clean up was usually handled by the lunch time crew before they started on whatever lunch was called for that day.
It was a simple enough routine and more work than you had done in the months you had been working for Terzo but it still didn't distract you quite the way you had hoped. The first hour or so of breakfast was typically quiet. There were very few residents of the Abbey that were consistent early risers but you should have known that the Cardinal would be there. As he approached you where you were filling up the hot plates, he seemed to be having some kind of internal argument with himself.
'Having some trouble deciding what's for breakfast Cardinal?' You joke even if your voice comes out hollow. It seems to have been the right tact, his frown easing and any indecision he may have had about approaching you put to rest
'Good morning, Sorella,' he says cheerier then you feel. Now he has calmed somewhat you can feel the excitement rolling off him and you couldn't blame him for that. He deserved his time to shine just as any of the previous Papas. He has worked too hard not to earn his place, to be able to lead them all in earnest. The only dampener on your excitement was how this was coming at the expense of Terzo but you knew enough to know that wasn't Copia's fault.
You check around you for any other siblings or clergy members close enough to hear your conversation while he bounces on his heels beside you, doing his best to seem as if he is only considering the breakfast options in front of him.
'I hear some congratulations are in order,' you say in a whisper. He beams letting it all out for just a moment, his mind no longer on the breakfast buffet. He looks back at you and his smile falters.
'Have you spoken to him since...' His voice trails off and you feel the black cloud bloom over the two of you.
'He sent me away,' you say shortly, trying your best not to dwell too much on what was said the previous morning despite his angry words ringing in your head.
'I'm sure he will...' He tries but you are tired of people trying to tell you what he would do.
'No Cardinal he was quiet clear.' You don't want to be short with him or Secondo but you can't help feeling like they should be having these conversations with Terzo and not you. You don't say that though. It was never your place, even less so now. He looks sheepishly back at the buffet, the guilt in his expression clear though whether it is over what he had said to you or how his elevation was the catalyst of all this you couldn't tell.
'I do have to ask you something though Cardinal,' you say, taking the opportunity that was being presented to you. Putting down the spoon and tongs you were holding you pull the notebook from your pocket. Part of you does feel bad, taking advantage of Copia's guilt and revealing something so personal of Terzo's in the same action but Copia knew enough anyway and you were tired of twisting yourself in to knots to keep his confidence. This really was the best of a series of increasingly bad options.
'Take this, please,' you plead trying to hand it to him but he takes a step back. 'Can you return it to him?'
'He won't see me, Sorella.' He shakes his head as he refuses. 'And I think it should come from you.' You start to object, your anger returning that they keep suggesting you go back to him. They knew him, you were sure they had been on the receiving end of his cutting temper and yet they wanted you to go back to him as if it was nothing. Secondo and now Copia too.
'I'm sorry but I can't help you with this.' His regret is evident and you feel bad for your internal anger. This situation was horrible for everyone, Terzo included. 'I have my own matters to resolve with him before he leaves.'
'That's ok Cardinal.' You watch him dejectedly fill his plate at last. He offers you a final sad smile before leaving which you try to return. For a moment you watch him make his way back to the Clergy table, the notebook held in your hands before some approaching siblings snap you out of it. Heading back to the kitchen you look at the fraying cover as you had so many times before and the sadness washes over you once more. This was not how it was supposed to be.
• • • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • •
The letter arrives a few days later after lunch, timed perfectly for your down time. As you take it from the ghoul who had appeared at the door you wonder if it was the one you had seen before. It could be, you find it so hard to tell them apart, not that it mattered but the thought is a distraction from the unsteadiness of your hands as you unfold the note. You know it's from Primo before you open it, but that doesn't stop you from hoping Terzo had had a change of heart and was reaching out.
Sorella,
Please come and see me in the greenhouses at your soonest convenience.
Primo.
You try to stifle your disappointment but it festers inside you even so. With every day that passes your little well off hope runs dry. You had been too hurt at first to even entertain it but as the days crept on you couldn't help thinking perhaps this would be the day he reaches out.
You let Mona know you are heading out instead of joining them for break and you see the same hope reflected in her. It feels almost worse to disappoint her but you have to with a shake of your head. You show her the letter quickly before taking your leave not wanting to linger more than you needed too in this discomfort.
It doesn't take long to find him, following the soft sounds of his puttering to the back of the large greenhouse. He is tending to rows of potted seedlings spraying the soil ever so precisely until he notices your presence.
You can't help but feel a sense of deja vu here, having sought him out on many occasions for guidance for one thing or another. This time was by far the most daunting. You are under no illusions that he doesn't at least have an idea about what had happened between yourself and his brother even if he doesn't quite understand all the details but that didn't make broaching the topic any easier.
He says nothing just places the spray bottle down on his workbench and waits.
Words elude you and instead all you feel is a building resentment. Surely he knew this might happen. That you might fall for Terzo. Maybe he thought you would be able to fix him and that wasn't fair. That was Terzo's responsibility not yours. Clearly some of his wounds ran too deep for him to truly let someone in and even days after you had yet to hear a hear a word from him. You didn't know how he was, what he was doing, when he would be leaving. It was just all too much and as you stood there in front of Primo it all became overwhelming.
Your inner turmoil must be have been clear on your face because all he offers you is a sympathetic smile and a seat at the bench beside him. With a sigh you sit down heavily and force yourself to speak.
'You have spoken to him?' He doesn't look surprised at your question even though you are. Part of you wishes to rail and shout about how unfair it all is but you can't fight your instinct to just care for him whether that is welcome anymore or not.
'I have.' he replies simply.
'Is he ok?' It is a stupid question really but you ask it anyway.
'No.' You aren't sure if that makes you feel better or worse.
'I didn't think so.' He doesn't elaborate and as much as you want to press, you don't. You understand the need to keep his confidence all too well and you could hardly blame him from shielding his brother.
'You still care very much then.' It isn't even a question and you snort in indignation.
'It's not something I can switch off so easily.' If it sounds accusing it is because you are. It's not that you believed what he said about you but the motivation behind it that you couldn't understand. That his pride and anger were so much stronger than his feelings for you.
'You know he can't either,' he says so matter of factly.
'At first I thought not but I don't know anymore.' He drops his head to his chest and you start to feel that resentment slip away as easily as it grew. If he had pushed you away the likelihood was he was doing exactly the same to his brothers. He looks so tired, wrung out just like you. No you were not the only one feeling like this.
'Will you give him this?' You ask, sliding the note book on to the bench in front of him. He blinks down at it slowly, the strain even more apparent on his aged face.
'No Sorella,' he says quietly but firmly.
'Please.' Your voice comes out thick with emotion, as your eyes fill with tears.
'No,' He finally looks at you, eyes full of sympathy. 'Not because I don't want to help you but you need to do this yourself.'
'Why?' The damn of your feelings break with his refusal, all your hurt and frustration pouring out of you. 'Why do you all keep insisting? He did this to me.' It feels like the are all trying to push you back towards him and yet it was his fault. If he hadn't lashed out at the first sign of trouble you would be by his side still.
'He did, he did Sorella.' His arm wiry yet strong wraps around your shoulders as you cry. 'And he was wrong for what he has done to fill you with such sadness but ...'
'But what?' You can't help but cut him off. 'I need to give him another chance? Another opportunity to brush me off, diminish what we had, what he felt, because he can't manage his feelings?' A part of you feels wrong, talking to Primo about his brother like this but he needed to know why. Why it wasn't fair to ask you to just go back and risk him treating you the same way all over again with no remorse.
He squeezes your shoulder and just lets you cry it out. It feels good to surprisingly let it out finally to someone who understands. He was your mentor, the man who introduced you to this place. It's as though he knew you needed this. Maybe you should feel slightly manipulated but maybe he also knew you needed an outlet that you couldn't have with Secondo or Copia or Terzo even. He stands slowly patting your shoulder reassuringly before he leaves you sitting there.
The sounds of the greenhouse calm you as you wait, knowing he wouldn't just leave without a purpose. The constant trickle of the irrigation and the drip drip drip of condensation. The outside world seems to get further away as you sit, letting your tears gradually run dry. After what could have been minutes, or hours he returns with two steaming cups of tea and despite it all you still manage to muster a smile.
He watches you blow over the rim of your mug, cooling the drink before taking your first sip. It's your favourite blend of sweet earl grey and you hum in appreciation. He is still watching you and you sense a hesitancy in him and somehow you know he is going to ask something from you.
'What is it?' You ask with no bite.
'We are having a meal together before he leaves.' He states and you know what he wants before he even speaks the words. 'Will you help me?'
'Papa I can't.' Tears you didn't know you had left spill down your cheeks. You are so tired of feeling so torn. Part of you wants to but you can't help but fear his reaction. 'He doesn't want to see me.'
'Do you really believe that Sorella?' He looks at you seriously his mismatched eyes seeming to stare in to your soul, so similar yet so different to his brother. 'I do not.' He sounds so certain you almost believe him.
'Couldn't one of the others help?' You ask but he shakes his head stopping any further suggestions from you.
'I do need your help but you need to do this.' He insists gently. 'For you. For closure.' He is right but you are reluctant to admit it. Yes you are scared, but the thought of never seeing him again, of not giving him one last chance fills you with a deeper dread.
'Ok,' you finally agree. It feels like a defeat and a relief simultaneously. He cups you cheeks, gently wiping away your tears before letting you finish your tea. He sits with you quietly for a while longer letting you rebuild your composure after such an emotional outpouring. He lets you set down your mug before handing the notebook back to you.
'Give this back to him then Sorella,' he tells you gently. 'And if you can, give him one more chance.'
You leave feeling lighter than when you arrived, surprised by the sense of purpose Primo's request had filled you with. One more chance.
• • • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • •
You don't hesitate to use the notebook recipes for this last meal. It feels almost poetic to make their last meal as a family from the thing that may have caused the whole series of events to come to pass. If he hadn't given you this notebook then you would have quit after a week and carried on with your life. And, despite all the heartbreak you would never forget all you had learned and enjoyed cooking over the last few months.
Primo had made no specific requests so you pull out all the stops. Regardless of the outcome for you, this should be a night to remember for them and nothing short of an extravagant Italian banchetto would do. As you plan, course by course you go back through all the recipes you had made and enjoyed building every course into the whole.
Unlike what you were used to courses were served together bringing meats, vegetables, pastas and salads together so those enjoying the feast could pick and choose what they wanted. Every element needed to work harmoniously, to build flavours and textures together. It was a challenge but you were up to the task.
Everything you can is prepared ahead of time and you enlist Lilly's help to bring it all together. She loved being able to learn from you and you felt more comfortable with her at your side. If anything didn't go to as expected then at least you could rely on her to make sure the brothers enjoyed their last meal.
Primo had commandeered the clergy meeting room for the night, quite rightfully avoiding trying to get him to any of their individual quarters. Neutral ground was best he had assured you but as the planned time of their arrival crept closer you started to feel sick with nerves.
There was some closure in doing this, you felt it already but as time passed you became less and less certain that he would even come. He might still be too deep in his hurt and self loathing but you hope if nothing else in the few months you spent together he had grown enough not to waste the opportunity to spend some quality time with his family. With those who care about him and would miss him when he leaves.
'Everything is perfect,' Lilly reassures you, taking the serving spoons you had been arranging and rearranging for the last few minutes from you. It was all perfect. You had accounted for everything but you just couldn't stop yourself from fidgeting.
'You are quite right, Sorella.' You both jump a little when Primo enters the room. 'You have out done yourself!'
'Thank you Papa but I couldn't have done it without Lilly's help.' You gesture towards her and Primo follows smiling at her warmly. Lilly still not used to spending much time around the leaders of your church bows awkwardly when his attention turns to her.
'No need for formalities child, thank you too for all your help.' She squeaks out an acknowledgement and you shoo her back to tend to the food as you wait.
'Ah Copia come in come in.' He welcomes him, directing him to a seat across the room.
'Primo, Sorellas,' He smiles a both of you but you can tell he is nervous. You wonder if he had managed to speak with Terzo yet. 'I thought I might be late.' He does seem more relaxed then when you had seen him at breakfast. You offer him a smile in return and hope he understands you have no hard feelings towards him.
'No no Copia, I am sure Terzo intends to arrive fashionably late as usual.' Primo replies good naturedly. He settles himself at the head of the table just as Secondo arrives.
'No sign of him yet then?' He quips as he sits across from Copia, leaving one seat left open. He looks the most tired of them all and you feel even worse for snapping at him.
'Wine Papa?' You offer the other two's glasses already filled.
'You look better Sorella,' he murmurs as you lean over.
'I am thank you Papa,' you say matching his tone. Because in many ways you do. He gestures to you when you have poured enough. 'I wanted to apologise for ...' You start but he cuts you off with a wave of his hand.
'No need,' he reassures you before continuing. 'In fact I should ...'
'Also no need,' you interrupt him in turn. You were both clearly feeling the impact of what had happened that day but no one was at fault. He nods at you again and you step aside feeling another one of your worries lifting.
They chatter amongst themselves for a few minutes and while Lilly was busy tending to the hot plate you take your opportunity, taking out the notebook and holding it ready to handover.
'Do you think he will come?' Questions Copia as he notices you, almost seeming reluctant to voice the very real possibility.
'He would not speak with me,' Secondo mutters. You aren't surprised but you feel for him. The closeness you knew they had likely caused Terzo to shut him out in a similar way he had you.
'He will come,' Primo states, sitting confident and patient. His surety should be reassuring and yet you feel like seeing him disappointed might break them all. They fall in to tense silence, the only sounds the ticking clock and the muted comings and goings of the rest of the Abbey. Five minutes pass, then ten. You can see Lilly shooting you concerned glances, much of the food could not sit for much longer but you send her a reassuring look. It won't be much longer whether he arrives or not. When it reaches fifteen minutes you finally give up. You give her the sign and she starts plating the dishes while you address the waiting men.
'Papa, I appreciate what you were trying to do but he isn't coming.' You say, placing the notebook where he should have been sat and heading for the door. They all stand as if they would try and stop you but you just shake your head sadly. 'He isn't coming.' It hurts to say and you feel your last shred of hope dissipating as you do. You give them one last look before opening the door only to come face to face with Terzo himself.
'Who isn't coming?' His smile is sheepish but the joke falls flat, everyone in the room just looking at him in silence. You take one step back then another and another until he has more than enough room to enter but still he lingers in the doorway. He looks, surprisingly good at least physically not that you really expected otherwise. It would take more than a few days for him to get to the point he had been at the start of your arrangement. When he looks at you though he looks like he wants to be sick and like he has never been happier at the same time.
'Terzo you have kept us waiting enough, come and sit down,' Secondo chides him but he waves him off.
'Cara I ..' he begins but you turn, picking up the notebook and handing it to him. 'No,' he refuses pushing it back towards you. 'That belongs to you now.'
'Papa please it's important to you,' you insist and try and hand it back to him.
'That's why I want you to have it,' he says simply and you can't help but feel exasperated. All you want is to return it to him and yet everyone was making it impossible. Before you can argue further though he drops to his knees before you.
'I owe you more than an apology,' he starts offering you his hands and you find yourself frozen. Yet again he has defied all your expectations. Even in the best possible scenario you never imagined him being like this in front of his brothers. Hesitantly you take his hands. You want to help him up these hard wood floors wouldn't be good on his knees but you know he is stubborn and won't get up until he has said his piece.
'I am a selfish, greedy, prideful man and instead of cherishing you for the blessing you were I have treated you terribly time and time again. You cared for me and look you are still here, you still did all this for my brothers and for me.' His voice sounds thick as he speaks and while you don't disagree with him none of what happened would have stopped you from caring about him.
'Many people, they accuse me of not taking things seriously, but I have never been more serious about anyone or anything. How I treated you the other day, was not a representation of that and I am so sorry.' His eyes bore in to yours and you can feel his sincerity.
'We Emeritus men are taught to be proud, but of this... I am not proud, not proud at all to have shown my ass in this way, to have not held onto one single lesson you taught me in these last months....what a discredit to the woman you are, and the man I want to be.' Your breath catches, to hear him talk of the impact you have had on him it's validating and equally painful.
'I won't ask for your forgiveness not now,' He blinks back tears as he finishes and you want nothing more then to pull him in to your arms but he is right to give you time. You both need time. 'But I will ask you at least give me some of your time so I can even begin to make this up to you.'
'I ...' You find yourself at a loss for words even though you knew your answer as soon as you laid eyes on him today. Articulating it though is another matter. 'Yes,' you say quietly before looking towards the others and seeing them quietly watching the two of you.
'Have the dramatics finished now?' Secondo asks, not quite able to disguise his proud smile. 'Some of us are hungry fratellino.'
Terzo scoffs but relents, letting you help him back to his feet with a soft grunt. He finds his way to his seat and Primo gestures widely at the table
'Will you join us Sorella?' He asks. There was more than enough food you were well aware and had all faith that Lilly was more than up to the task, she had already resumed plating up the food without waiting for your say so.
But taking a moment you realise you feel slightly numb from his declaration. He always manages to do this to you, sweep your feet from under you and leave you off balance. Under other circumstances you would love to join them but you need some time to clear your head.
'No, I don't think I will,' Terzo whips around to look at you but your hand finds his shoulder with a reassuring squeeze. 'Thank you for the offer Papa, really. I just I need some time. As do you all.'
Primo nods in understanding and slowly the others each the same. Terzo reaches for you and you offer him that connection, taking his hand in yours.
'Enjoy your meal please,' you say to the table at large before turning to him. 'I will meet you in the garden when you are ready.' You smile at him and then the others. Hoping you don't look as far removed from your body as you feel. You briefly check in with Lilly but she promises she will be fine.
'Buon appetito gentlemen,' you say with a bow before taking your leave. For a moment you lean against the door, until you hear the low hum of their voices in the room. He needs this time with his family as much as you and he need to talk. You had waited the majority of the week, what was a few more hours. You wander the corridors until you find the door you were looking for that leads you to the only place you would be able to think clearly.
• • • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • •
He finds you on your usual bench watching the sunset across the moon garden. There is a reservation in how he approaches you, hesitating at the edge of your vison as if unsure of his welcome. You offer him a smile and only then does he approach seeming a different man entirely than the cold and isolated one who you left a few days ago.
He sits down heavily, leaving space between you. Too close and yet still too far now you are both in this limbo. He almost starts, drawing in a deliberate breath and yet he says nothing, letting the silence stretch. It isn't awkward in the usual sense, silence wasn't an uncomfortable place for the two of you but there was a weight to the conversation you needed to have. You appreciated his initial apology but that didn't make everything right, or return things to how it had been before. He sighs quietly and rests his hand between you on the bench. The gesture familiar and with barely a thought you rest your hand on top of his.
'I am leaving in two days,' he starts. You aren't surprised but your heart still seizes at the confirmation.
'Where are you going?' It's hardly the most pressing concern but you want to know and any other questions feel too big for the quiet moment.
'When I was touring I ... I did some unsanctioned digging. I found my mother.' That was not what you had been expecting. 'We had been in Florence when I was a child so in between rituals in Europe I went.' Just from his words you can tell how difficult that had been for him. You wait for him to continue while he gathers his thoughts.
'She wasn't there, not anymore. But I found out she had gotten married and moved out in to the countryside.' Part of you feels guilty now, that for all this time you had been making this woman's recipes you had been thinking of her in the abstract. Yes you had always felt questions wouldn't be welcomed by him but even on your own you had thought of her in the past. 'I found her.'
'Did you go and see her?' You would have hoped he might have mentioned if he had but even now you are realising how many things you don't know about him.
'No no, I didn't,' he says, voice tinged with regret. 'There was never the time and well. I wasn't sure if she would even want to see me.'
'But I have written to her and ... I'm going to stay with her and her family. Just for a while.' The sadness of having to leave clearly weighs heavily on him but you can sense the spark of happiness in him, the excitement. Getting to rediscover the first life that was stolen from him by the Clergy even as he is removed from this one by them too.
'Terzo, that's amazing.' Just the thought of him reconnecting with his family alleviates so many of your worries. If there was one thing the notebook made clear it was how much his mother had cared for him and you had no doubt that her family would give him a warm welcome. You pull him in to a hug unable to contain your joy. He hesitates for just a moment before pulling you close, his face buried in your shoulder.
'I still hate that the clergy has done this to you,' you say, because you do. The way he had been treated, the things you had learned about him and his brothers was making you question so much about this place you had thought of as home. 'But I am so happy for you.'
'That's the Clergy for you.' He pulls back so he can look at you, his hands resting on your shoulders. 'We will all get chewed up and spit out eventually.'
For a moment you just sit together, ruminating on everything that had happened. So much had changed in just a few months, some for better and some for worse but it was hard for you to imagine ending up here with him under any other circumstances.
'Cara mia,' he pauses, looking out into the garden and wringing his hands. 'You could ... You could come with me.' You take his hands in yours again with a sigh.
'I ...' You start but you have to think carefully about how to word your response. He looked so hopeful, and while part of you really wanted to just say yes, you know that is not what either of you needed. 'Terzo I ..'
'You are questioning everything no?' He cuts you off before you can even start, rushing to head off any of your reasons before you can even give them. 'I can tell. Come with me and we can ...' He grasps at you hands, an almost frantic look in his eyes that you know you need to calm.
'Terzo please.' You wait for him to stop and it hurts to watch him deflate. He knows you are about to refuse but you just hope that he will listen. 'I can't, not right now,' he opens his mouth interrupt but you give him a stern look. 'I am not saying no. I am saying not right now.' He nods, he knows deep down you are making the right decision but it goes against his impulse to pull you as close as he can and not let you go.
'This has all been a lot,' you continue. 'What we have is so new and has been so fraught.' He winces but you squeeze his hands in what you hope is reassurance. 'If we are going to work we need to take it slow.'
'It is really not a no?' His voice cracks as he asks. You rest your hand on his cheek, easing his face towards you, unable to resist stroking him with your thumb.
'You need time to reconnect with your family on your own terms,' you remind him. You can sense how important this will be and while you are fully in support of him it is something he must do on his own. 'Without any distractions.'
'You are not just a distraction,' He responds indignantly but you just role your eyes affectionately.
'You know that's not what I meant!' You chide him. 'We both need time and that's ok. Go, get settled and once you are I will come to you.'
'You are right, Cara mia,' he concedes. 'Sometimes I think think you know me better than I know myself.' He scoops up you hands in his once again and kisses across your knuckles. You had missed his easy affection.
'I don't know about that I just ...' You pause again needing to be careful with your wording. 'I care for you so much but I can't be your emotional punching bag. I want to do this with you but we need to make sure we are both able to give our best.' His face drops again but he nods in agreement. He has said as much in front of his brothers but you needed some reassurance now it was just the two of you. 'It will be hard and I will miss you terribly but I want to make this work if you do too.'
'I do.' He says he it with such certainty as he tucks your hair behind your ear. 'Do you remember what you told me once about how to save a dish when you have added all the wrong seasoning?'
'I think I recall yes.' It takes you a moment to remember but you do, back to near the beginning when he used to watch and quiz you while you cooked. Even before you really started to fall for him. 'That you need to find the right flavours to balance out the mistakes?'
'Si! For the longest time I knew I was unhappy and I blamed the things that had happened to me, what was taken from me but now I realise that it is up to me now to add the things to my life that will improve the flavour.' He is so earnest as he speaks and while you hadn't realised how metaphorically he had been taking your cooking lesson it makes so much sense. 'Anger and resentment will only continue to add more of what I find distasteful and stop me enjoying what I really want.'
'That's a very good way to put it.' He isn't wrong and while the future is still uncertain with his words he wipes away many of the reservations you may have had. He needed to realise he was getting in his own way and he had. 'And I am glad you feel that way now. That was a very appt metaphor I gave you even if I didn't realise at the time.' He laughs along with you but his smile turns earnest once again.
'You have taught me a lot mia Cuocoina and no matter what happens I will never regret the time we have spent together.' You don't feel like you deserve as much credit as he has given you but before you can argue he continues. 'Apart from one thing. I feel like I have wasted this last week when we could have been ...' He quirks his brow at you a smirk pulling at his lips as he trails off.
'We still have a couple of days left,' you remind him although it comes out a little breathless.
'We do.' His voice melts low and seductive as he takes your hand more firmly in his. 'And we should make the most of every second.' His eyes darken and you can almost feel the way he looks over you. There will be plenty of time for conversation in the future so you agree with him completely. 'Will you stay with me tonight?'
'Yes,' you agree without a seconds hesitation.
'Then let us return to my rooms while they are still mine.' He stands, pulling you to your feet and then offering you his arm. You feel as though you about to embark on the longest walk of your life.
• • • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • •
There is a delicious tension but no rush as the two of you walk back to his room. The whole evening feels like some sort of dream, the meal, his apology, your plans for the future. You try to ground yourself as you go, to make sure this was reality. You can smell the sweet scent of the night blooming flowers giving way to candle smoke and old stone as your journey progresses. The song of the nightbirds you can hear slowly dampened by the soft echoes of your footsteps.
The cool night breeze feels fresh against your face and his surprisingly soft hand warmly encasing yours. The white and green of the garden had turned greyscale in the dimming light but you can still see his handsome face, softened and relaxed in the shadow. The almost peppermint tang of the evening air soothed by the wine warm taste of his mouth as he steals kisses from you.
It may seem like a dream but no dream could conjure up the perfect details of this evening. You move through the space as if you were dancing, not with the fervour of the last time he took you to his room. You want him of course, the pleasurable churn of arousal fills your stomach as you get closer but there is a surety now that you hadn't realised had been missing. As if all the time you had spent together in the past had an inevitable but unforeseen end hanging above you on a fraying thread. It had snapped and it had hurt you more then you had ever imagined but now you were both free of it and you had still chosen each other.
You were under no illusions that the future would be easy but you were prepared for that now. There will be times when you missed each other, when you hurt each other but as long as you continued to choose each other and to choose to be better you would always have a future.
He senses your mind whirring, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead as you approach his room.
'You are ok, cara mia?' He doesn't sound worried just caring and you feel almost overwhelmed by your love for him for a moment.
'I am, I was just making sure this was real.' It probably sounds silly but you don't care.
'I understand.' He kisses your forehead again, eyes closed but just taking your presence before him in. 'I know I don't deserve your forgiveness for how I have treated you.'
'Terzo,' you start to cut him off.
'No please let me tell you.' You rest your hands on his chest and feel his voice rumbling as he continues. 'I' will make it up to you every day for the rest of our lives.'
'I forgive you,' you remind him, kissing him soundly.
'I know and I will do it anyway,' he says against your lips as he cradles your head in his hands. His fingers wind through your hair and he kisses you deeper pouring everything he is trying to say in through your joined lips and you feel it. You try to communicate right back that you accept it and you accept him. You're both panting when you break apart clinging to each other but he smiles and everything softens as he eases you to sit down on the bed.
He kneels before you looking up at you with such clear admiration it makes your heart ache. He lifts your foot into his lap, undoing the buckle of your shoe before pulling it off and setting it to the side. He reaches for the other but finds you anticipating him, footed lifted and read to make his task easier. He tuts at you and looks at you pointedly until you set it in his hand.
'For all this time you have been letting me take take take from you mia cuocoina.' With the other shoe removed her pulls off your socks one at a time, resting your feet back in his lap. You try to reassure him but he lifts a finger to quiet you before you can even start. He rubs your feet, his strong fingers soothing aches that you hadn't even realised where there so you lean back on your elbows in surrender and let him do as he pleases.
'It is my turn to look after you now.' He works diligently caressing your ankles massaging your calves taking his time to seek out every spot of tension until you begin to melt under his hands. You give up any pretence of watching him or attempting to hurry him along and lay back, taking his words to heart and just letting him take care of you. As he reaches your thighs he edges closer, spreading your legs apart to make room of him between them. The hem of your dress is inched higher and higher as he works until it sits at your waist.
His hands leave you for the first time in what feels like an eternity to help you out of the garment, pulling it over your head with ease. Your underwear is next, he removes your bra with practiced ease and then slides off your underwear without you hardly having to move. He settles back between your legs his lips pressing soft to your knee, so soft it almost tickles but he has no intention to tease you, not today. He is being thorough though, taking his time to lavish attention on every part of you he can reach. His hands follow the path of his lips, encouraging you to open up to him and accept his adoration.
He nuzzles at the hair at the apex of your thighs taking a moment to breathe you in before he takes his first taste. It's only when he touches you that you realise how wet you are, having been so lost in his attentions but your harmonising moans bring you crashing back into your body. You at the feel of him devouring you and him at the taste of you now coating his tongue.
He works you until you are shaking and over sensitive, your climax barely registering as he pleasures you for his enjoyment as much as your own. Your hands which were once pulling him closer, fingers wound in his hair start to pull him away instead. He follows your lead reluctantly but there is a sparkle in his eyes when you finally are able to muster the energy to open yours.
His cheeks are flushed and slick with your arousal as he smiles up at you. You need a break and yet you don't think you will ever get enough. He crawls up the bed taking in the wreck he has made of you with a smug smile. He settles beside you and just watches you catch your breath and you can't look away from him.
You trace the perfect lines of his face with your fingers, he looks lighter some how. Now the expectations of the clergy and the uncertainty of his future had been lifted. It looks good on him and you have no doubt that the time he will spend in Italy will only make it more so. You want him desperately
Desire gives you the energy you need to crawl on top of him, encouraging him to roll on to his back so you can drape yourself across his body, peppering kisses along your journey. You could hear his heart beat where you where you settled, your ear pressed to his chest taking another brief moment to rest. His arms encircle you holding you close and you relish in the skin to skin contact you had spent so long yearning for but so little time exploring. You felt boneless with satisfaction yet at the same time completely insatiable. And you needed him to know.
You nuzzle at his chest nipping and kissing at all the skin you can reach. Skimming you fingers through his chest hair down to squeeze his thick waist. The soft give of him under your hands making you slowly grind yourself on his hard cock trapped between you. It is wet and messy but it only makes you want more.
The need to have him inside you was almost overwhelming but you couldn't stop worshipping his body. Hard plains given way to soft curves you could sink into and all because of you. The care you had given him, the love you had channelled through his secretive recipes making him look and feel so cherished. You had always thought him attractive before but now you were ravenous for him and he revelled in your attention as you all but worshipped him with fingers and teeth.
As much as he seemed to enjoy the frenzy you were working yourself in to, feeling so wanted for exactly who he was rather than who he pretended to be or the power he represented he stops you. Gripping your shoulders pulling in to a searing kiss.
'You see me for what I really am.' He pants between kisses. 'Who I really am. I owe it to you to be the man you see.'
'Don't owe me anything,' you say, trying to shush him,. Trying to capture his sweet words with your mouth but he soothes you, his large hand smoothing down your spine, calming your frantic movements for the moment. He holds your hips guiding your movements until he is poised to slide his cock right in to you. But he pauses, holding you on the brink as he so often likes to do.
'It felt like half of me was missing after you left,' he admits. 'We fit together so well.'
'We certainly do,' you laugh breathlessly taking the opportunity to sink down his length. His eyes roll back in his head and then he chuckles breathlessly.
'For once I was not speaking with innuendo but you are right.' You aren't sure if you believe him or not but you can't think of anything but getting closer to him so you do. Your kissing is as messy as your fucking, the need to be as close as possible superseding finesse. Tongues slide together as you pant into each others mouths, hips pressed together as you move its perfect and not enough all at the same time.
Whines fall from your lips as need claws at your insides. Too far gone to articulate the way you want him but he knows some how. He always knows. Sitting himself upright and taking control of your hips. He lets you grind for a moment longer before pushing you off him.
You want to protest, to cry out but before you can he is manhandling you into position across the bed opposite the free standing mirror that had inspired the beginning of all this and despite the complaints caught in your throat you know you need this, need him to take control.
'Let me look at you,' he says brokering no argument. He helps you up from your knees until your back pressed against him. You can feel his cock wet against your ass but despite your squirming and wordless protest he doesn't give you what you want.
His arm wraps around your waist, holding you close and still. He cups your breast in his hand, thumb teasing at your nipple already so sensitive to his touch. His other hand slides down your stomach and in between your legs. His deft fingers finding your clit with ease and circling torturously slow.
'Do you remember?' He asks as he watches you fall apart in the mirror and you can't look away from his piercing eyes. 'Catching me like this? Watching me like this?' Your whole body shudders, whether from the memory or the feel of his fingers slipping inside you you couldn't say.
'Do you?' He asks again, his voice more insistent as he holds his fingers still inside you.
'I do yes!' You moan and he rewards you with a measured flex of his fingers. 'I wanted to join you even then,' you admit, remembering the way his body had looked under his own hands.
'I'm glad you didn't,' he grunts as he grinds against your ass, his reaction somewhat misaligned with his words and yet you understand.
'Me too.' If you had joined him then you know this never would have got so far. He would have fucked you and that would have been that. Growing tired of his own teasing he pushes you gently to all fours in front of him.
'Keep looking at me,' he tells you and your eyes lock with his in the mirror. It takes all the will power you have left not to let your eyes slip shut when he fucks in to you again. The sweet slick stretch of him filling you completely.
There is no pretence left between you anymore only pure want. You watch him in the mirror behind you, sweat dripping down his forehead from exertion. Brow furrowed in sweet frustration as he chases his orgasm and yours. His body jolting soft and perfect at the impact of every thrust. It's not a performance at least in anyway you had experienced with him before and yet you were as rapt as when he was on top form with thousands eating from the palm of his hand. This though was just for you now.
Was rendering this but wasn’t too happy with how it was turning out so I’m posting the sketch instead! Terzo is still terzo, even if it looks rougher. no clue what he is (ghost reference??) doing here.
How would Terzo react if he found out that his son:
- had a girlfriend
- stole from a store
- wanted to change his gender?
We rarely imagine Terzo as a boy’s father, so this is a challenge.
I imagine Terzo as a boy’s father in a completely opposite way from how he is as a girl’s father, so I’m glad you brought this up!
I have this feeling that living under the shadow of such a cumbersome personality as Papa Emeritus III must be very hard for a son. Expectations are high, comparisons are brutal, and admiration can easily turn into envy, or even rejection. Not to mention every time Terzo embarrasses the poor boy with his “funny stories” about him, which he happily tells to friends and girlfriends alike.
I’m sure there will be a point in his son’s life when he starts hating him.
And imagine having to witness all your girlfriends having a crush on your father… 🙄
1. had a girlfriend
Well, the first thing I imagine Terzo saying to the boy is, “You? A girlfriend?” Then he smirks, shakes his head lightly, and says proudly, “You really are my son.”
He then proceeds to fill two glasses, placing one in front of his son on the table and keeping the other.
“So what’s this?” the son asks, after smelling the strong scent of alcohol.
“You are a man now.”
“Dad-”
“And we have reached that point in life where the man who created you has to pass down wisdom-”
“DAD. Please.” The boy stops him promptly. “I don’t need you to teach me that.”
Terzo looks at him, suspiciously. “Have you already made me proud…?”
And it’s at that point that the son simply stands up and walks away, cheeks red.
He’s the kind of dad who thinks he can act like a friend or a mentor to his son and doesn’t understand how embarrassing and pressuring it feels for the boy.
For some reason, the news of the girlfriend makes him extraordinarily invested in his son’s romance, as if he’s witnessing proof that something he made has turned out right.
He’s well-meaning, intrusive, proud, and completely unaware of how overwhelming he can be.
He gives advice constantly, always unsolicited:
“Never arrive empty-handed on dates.” “Let her pick the movie.” “Lying is useless… girls can smell it.” “She must always come first.”
“DAD.”
He even slip a condom into the boy’s jacket pocket one day. Size small. Luckily, the boy found it before the girl did.
He asks questions that are far too personal and that quickly turn into a badly conceived trial.
“So,” Terzo said one afternoon, leaning back in his chair, “does this girl make you happy?”
“Yes,” his son answered carefully, but honestly.
Terzo smiled, satisfied, only to add soon after, his smile fading, “Good. Then do not ruin it.”
It got even worse when the boy invited his girlfriend home to meet him.
“Please,” the boy says to his girl, taking her hand while standing in front of the house door. His anxiety can be cut with a knife. “Anything my father says… anything, do not believe or endorse it.”
From there, the meeting is a rollercoaster that seems aimed at sabotaging the boy, but in truth is just Terzo being Terzo.
Terzo keeps calling the girl by the wrong name. Every time, his son clenches his jaw and corrects him. Terzo nods, apologizes, and says something like, “Those beautiful eyes distract me too much to focus on names,” which successfully flatters the girl and annoys the son, then forgets her name again five minutes later.
He asks the most inappropriate questions like, “So what did you find in my boy?” which may seem a standard, innocent question, if he didn’t add “I swear I’ve tried to see something interesting in him, but I haven’t succeeded so far.”
And when the girlfriend leaves, smiling, polite, clearly fond of the son - and even of the father, despite everything - Terzo pats him on the shoulder with quiet satisfaction.
“She’s cool,” he says. “I like her.”
His son exhales, exhausted. “That was never the concern.”
Terzo frowns, puzzled, obviously missing the point.
2. stole from a store
The first thing Dad Terzo would ask is, “Did you really need that?”
Terzo is definitely not the type to steal, and not because he respects laws or morals, but because, to him, there is only one way to obtain things: by earning them. And because he despises consumerism.
The only theft he can condone is that of primary goods by people who can’t afford them, or theft committed as a form of protest.
If his son isn’t able to provide a just reason for the theft that fits any of those circumstances, he will face the consequences of his actions.
“…And no, son, a new game for your Xbox is not a primary good, and it’s not a protest. Go put it back in the store and pay for it with your own money, or you won’t have it at all,” he tells him, followed by “Stealing becomes understandable only when need is ignored. Taking what you need to live is survival. Taking what you want to be entertained is laziness-”
But the boy has already left.
Better to bring the game back than listen to one of his talkfests once again.
3. wanted to change his gender?
Although he is a strong believer in the power each individual has over their own choices and bodies, it’s surprising to realize that Terzo doesn’t actually have a clear, practical understanding of how transgender identity works. He remembers Bishop Cracoviensis’ theories about the connection between architecture and the human body, about the Luciferian freedom of shaping one’s body and identity as one sees fit, like a temple built on the ashes of an old regime, but what he has are only philosophical concepts. He had never had to face the practical details in real life until this moment.
The conversation that follows is both easy and curious, full of questions rooted in genuine interest rather than judgment.
“So you feel like a woman,” he asks simply.
His tone comes out more intimidating than he intends. His child shifts in her seat, trying not to back away or stumble over the answer. “…I’m pretty sure I am a woman.”
“But I thought you had a girlfriend.”
“I do… that isn’t related…”
“…Oh.” Terzo pauses, reflecting. Whether he finds it surprising or merely unusual, she can’t quite tell. “So this makes you a lesbian.”
His daughter looks at him, intrigued and slightly amused. He seems to have grasped the concept, if only in his own way, and without much explanation. “Well, yes,” she confirms. “That would technically make me a lesbian.” She tries to smirk, but he gives little reaction. “Are you angry?” she asks.
“Why should I be?” He shrugs, unbothered, and that alone comforts her. “Anything that goes against God’s impositions in pursuit of personal fulfillment can only bring good. Have you lived under my roof for the past fifteen years?”
“Seventeen.”
“And besides,” he adds, “I really can’t blame you. Who doesn’t like women?”
He will get it wrong sometimes, he will have to be corrected and adjust, but it doesn’t mean it doesn’t understand. Whatever the shape, his child is just his child.
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