“Nonsense, I am certain you must have at least one or two amusing tales to share from your travels. I won’t hear you say otherwise.” Her tone was chiding, but in a light, clearly teasing sense - toeing the line of flirtation, as always. From their few scattered meetings, Anne knew that she liked Giovanni very well - intrigued by the man who had grown out of such a fascinating shadow. Taking her hand back, she smiled, studying him as he straightened again.
“Your words are too kind.” She demurred, though she enjoyed the praises as anyone might, her lashes nearly fluttering as she nodded. “Yes - I was hoping you and I might discuss art, if you would be so inclined. Specifically your own. The works you have helped to complete are so beautiful and I simply wondered if you had any inclination toward creating your own works.” She looked at him expectantly for a few moments, then turned to get a goblet of wine from one of her ladies. “I should so very much like to commission something from you, if you will allow me.”
“ Do I appear as a man fond of art, Madonna? ” His voice held a tone of jest, an arched brow nudging his question forward before it came to a halt with a polite smile. Even for a man in possession of a talent as great as his Giovanni remained humbled by the shadow in which he continued to live, dedicating his life to preserving the legacy of another whilst his own was brushed aside and often hidden in plain sight. Yet he didn’t mind. It was grounding and yet liberating, being able to fly upon the wings of another, yet when an opportunity was presented such as the one Anne placed before him it was often startling.
“ I am afraid you have caught me by surprise, what sort of commission do you have in mind? ” The Milanese man stoof firm under her gaze whilst watching her with almost intense curiosity. In truth, it didn’t really matter what the object of her desire was for he already had his answer in mind but he was still willing to hear her request, if only to further his knowledge of one of the most enchanting women he had the pleasure of coming across. “ I pride myself in being an honest man, Madonna, and in a bid to be so with you I must confess that I am hesitant. Many spoke of the power you hold over any whom dare glance your way and my poor heart and soul do not possess the strength to refrain from falling victim to your gaze. ”
There was very little in the world that could match Anne’s love of art. She had been fascinated ever since she had come to court, and the position she had taken up at Francis’s side, even briefly, had been won by her mind and appreciation for fine things as much as by her beauty. It was scarcely a surprise, then, that she had struck up an interest in Giovanni de Melzi. She had met him briefly over the years, but immediately been impressed - not only by the works he had striven to complete, but by the man himself. It was only natural that, upon finding out that he was in England at the same time as she, that she should request to see him.
“Monsieur, it is so very wonderful to see you again.” When he entered her chambers, Anne had already bounced to her feet, expression alight with almost girlish delight. “Come. Sit. I must hear everything about what you have been doing since we saw each other last - where you have been, what you have done. But - here. I must remember my manners.” She came closer to him, nodding her head in greeting as she offered her hand to him. “You look so very well.”
- “ Madonna, the pleasure is all mine, I assure you. ” The Milanese artista turned Lord bowed in the presence of the Duchess; a woman whose path he had crossed more than a hand full of times in the past and yet she appeared unchanged by the years. Wisely, during his time in France, Giovanni had been certain to keep a distance from the women in the King’s circle so to avoid scandal but he was not blind nor was be oblivious to the beauty of the French King’s former mistress. She was entirely captivating and he, along with other mere mortals, was rather powerless against her stare.
“ I fear whatever stories I have to tell are not as entertaining as you desire. ” With one arm remaining behind his back, he complied and returned the favour of pressing a kiss to the back of her hand. “ Not as well as yourself, Duchess, you are unchanged by time - complimented by it if anything. Though I admit I am surprised by your invitation; can I be of service in some way? ”
- “ It is a thing of beauty, is it not? ” Upon seeing someone passing close by, without removing his eyes from the skies above, Giovanni spoke up and gestured to the bird flying overhead; a most welcome sight signaling that winter was well and truly behind them. “ To see such a creature flying free, without restraints or weight keeping it grounded. Very few treasures can afford such freedom, no? ”
Maddalena’s head tilted just slightly as she studied the young artista. He would undoubtedly claim to not befit the title ‘young’ any longer, but Maddalena could still see his youth. A pang of homesickness swept over her as she committed the hues of his eyes to memory. They’d seen the same beautiful cities she had. She longed for Urbino with growing strength. “Then where, pray tell, does your passion reside, signore?” She questioned, voice soft, not wishing to be overheard. She took a step toward him, “Do I not have the authority to decide whom is worthy?” She asked, not pulling away as he reached for her hand.
That familiar glint of mischief sent butterflies flapping wildly in her stomach as her breath hitched in response. She covered it quickly with a smirk of her own as his lips pressed gently upon her flesh. “It will take more to keep the English at bay, the wolves howl endlessly my dear artista. I beseech thee try again.”
- “ Where does it reside? I fear, Madonna, it may reside in the past. ” A somewhat somber smile accompanied his words, a bow being offered as ink-stained fingers reached for her delicate hand so that lips that often played host to a smirk of pride might bestow a kiss upon her knuckles. As much as it was a display of respect and propriety, Giovanni’s lips lingered a little too long just as his eyes stared almost too intently, for the sake of the past he could not bring himself to entirely fall into a pit of formalities. He remembered all too well how he has been scolded for doing so within Vatican walls, the apparent ‘look of lust’ in his eyes had been noted by those whom appointed themselves his superiors, and a younger Giovanni had been brushed aside by a hand which was not even her own. He had been sent away as a boy, a mere artist’s apprentice, and yet now he stood as a wealthy heir to genius’ legacy and a Milanese Lord in his own right - how time can change things.
Even with a straightened posture, Gio’s hand did not let her own fall from his hold; fingers remained light around her own so to keep hers in his possession but so light that it was almost a dare for her to be the one to retreat. “ Howl, do they? Well, one cannot ask the wolves to cease their noise, all we can do is drown them out. Perhaps you have a talent for singing that I have yet to discover? Or poetry reading, perhaps? I fear I am not as talented as those whom you usually keep company with, you may wish to lead the way, I would not assume to be worthy of being so bold in your presence. ”
Maddalena recognized the voice before she turned to discover the face it belonged to. Giovanni. She stopped her attempt at steps, rounding to face the man who, while not from her true home, had known her in her youth and shared heart for the peninsula she’d grown within. She did not expect to find him in England. Never really did she think he would leave his home, not when she knew well the inspiration and the appreciation of work such as his throughout their homeland. A bemused smirk tugged at her lips at his compliment and subsequent insult for the English. “You flatter me, Signore.” She chided teasingly as her hand swept her skirts back into order, shoe firmly in place once more.
“Won’t you come then, and demonstrate the passion you find lacking in the court of our hosts?” She questioned, unable to stop the smile on her lips. She was pleased to see him. If he danced half as well as he created his works, she’d be delighted to follow his lead.
- “ I fear I must admit that my passion does not reside within my feet, Madonna, ” the artista began to explain as he finally stepped into the room. Time had moved on since their last meeting in Rome, the years had no doubt taken their toll on his features, and yet she appeared as beauteous as ever - it would be the greatest of falsehoods to say she was unchanged for it appeared she had blossomed further with each passing spring. “ - Nor could I assume to be worthy of taking your hand in a dance, ” words rang with a reminder of times past, days when Giovanni was recognised as a mere artist and not the Milanese Lord he claimed to be today.
“ I hope the English do not seek to steal you away from the Papal States, Madonna, that would be a great loss indeed. If it is not a dance I can offer you, I can, at least, offer a gentleman’s greeting. ” There was a hint of mischief to his smile, one he was unable to control, as he bowed and delicately sought her hand to press a kiss upon her knuckles. “ - Something like that? ”
Henri’s brow arched in amusement at the artist’s question. He moved to look over his shoulder, studying the work he’d done thus far. How he managed to draw so much of the woman without her features was beyond him. He did not have the patience nor the hand for artistry, preferring his fingers to draw back the weight of a drawstring instead, or to wrap around smooth leather reigns, or…his thoughts trailed to an appreciation of the flesh beyond what the artist most likely spoke of. “Ah, a question with an incorrect answer and numerous seemingly wise choices. You place me in a difficult predicament in asking such, for whom shall I offend and whom shall I flatter in kind?” He quipped, amused by the notion but not yet answering his question.
“One would suggest my dearest sister, but I fear I must take your hand if you seek to appreciate her as you speak.” He warned, “My father would suggest other beauties of the court, but I must ask why you do not look upon my countenance and begin anew?” He asked, teasingly. He believed himself to be quite handsome, worthy of a portrait, but it was his way of refusing to properly answer the artist’s question. No matter who he chose as a suitable beauty, there would be unnecessary consequences. Why must such a simple opinion cause him such difficulty?
- The dark gaze of the artista raised to find a most surprising audience, the sight of the French Prince bringing Giovanni to his feet with a respectful bow of his head before he even contemplated a response that might attempt to explain his train of thought. “ There are never any wrong answers where beauty is concerned, your Highness, merely personal admirations. For one may prefer the night sky and the heavens and the light of day and our sun remain just as beautiful and dominating as ever; one can exist prominent in the eyes of one whilst the opposite exists so in the eyes of another. ” He rambled on with the assistance of expressive hands, which he soon realised waved around covered in the dust of the black chalk he had been using.
“ I seek another merely because I do not believe this figure’s bosoms replicate your own chest well enough, your highness, ” an apologetic hand rested over his heart with a further bow as if in apology for his own jest; an amused smile curving his lips in contrast to the gesture. “ I certainly would never seek a woman of royal blood in such a manner, though many are often very rich in beauty indeed, but it is not a personal desire I act upon. You see this is the base of a portrait painted some years ago, one which I have studied often and at great lengths, and I cannot seem to remove it from my own thoughts. I am of the belief that if I am to replicate it then I would do so with a twist of my own; to find beauty sought by a more modern eye opposed to a commissioned portrait. This court is filled with so much beauty - how is a simple and modest artista to know where to begin? ”
- It had been quite some time since Giovanni had the time and focus to dedicate himself to his own art. Everything had been for his former master, to preserve his legacy, to share his works and ideas with the world beyond their time, but with a false sense of calm settling over the English court and the budding spring time surroundhing him gave much cause to pause. Leaning over the space beside him on a stone bench, the Milanese artist sketched away on a half complete drawing of a faceless woman. Anyone whom had the pleasure of observing Leonardo’s Mona Lisa would recognise the setting and general stance of the woman except for Giovanni’s version lacked facial features, he simply had yet to find a muse and it was that idea which raised his gaze. “ I beg of your pardon but I would ask of you to enlighten me; without bias, who would you consider to be the great beauty or beauties amongst this court? I fear I have been away from a courtly life for too lond and your opinion would be most valued, I am somewhat out of tune when it comes to common appreciation of the flesh. ”
Laughter, bright and true, rang from Maddalena’s lips as she collected her skirts modestly to adjust her shoe once more. “I beseech you, have compassion!” She jested, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment and warmth from dancing the last several steps. The dance itself was rather quickly paced, and learning it to expertise would take time. While she retained her wardrobe, preferring the Urbino style to that of the English court, she knew well that learning the dances would serve her in far more than increasing personal knowledge and skill.
“Permit me try again. Go on, where did I go wrong that I must surely trip over mine shoe each time?” She smirked, shaking her head absently as she smoothed her hands over her skirts to settle them into place once more. “You must also allow me to teach you my own favorite, I promise to be more skilled in dance than I seem.”
- Rarely did Giovanni forget a face. The most valued skill he had acquired over the years was taking inspiration at all possible opportunities and committing them to memory, keeping them safe for when he needed a muse to inspire and nudge him along. It did take a moment for him to register where he knew her from when standing at a distance but the tone to her voice called to him like a siren song from his beloved peninsula, drawing him closer until he resided at the doorway to the room in which she pranced around.
“ I think you dance very well, ” he spoke up after a moment of observing, standing up straight from his leaning stance against the frame of the door, taking a single step forward so to refrain from lurking in the shadows. “ The English lack passion in their dances and so I believe it to be them whom trip over their own shoes and not yourself, Madonna. This is why their hoods are so big, to distract from their stumbling feet. ”
☆ ━ ━ OUT OF THE WAY ! can’t you see GIOVANNI DE MELZI, the ARTIST of MILAN coming this way ? I hear HE is CURIOUS, but also PRECAUTIONARY. HE seems to remind everyone of GENTLE BRUSH STROKES, OCEAN WAVES, .&. A BIRD IN FLIGHT. hopefully one day HE will succeed in HIS ambition to complete Da Vinci’s works, but then again, the court is a dangerous place. one can only hope HE will keep HIS head… ( TOM RILEY ) ━ ━ ☆ as written by BEE ;;
SO HERE WE ARE, ANOTHER ITALIAN BABY, WHAT A SHOCK! though we can 100% blame claw for this one so don’t look at me, i am but a lowly victim to my muses. giovanni is a little bit of a twist on a true historical figure, his name SHOULD be franceso de melzi but we all know that i already have my beloved franny and two muses named a variation of francis was just too much ok; and thus giovanni was born! instead of going on a rant i’m going to try to build a time line for him, since i’ll be ageing him down a little, so here we go;
1499: giovanni de melzi is born into a milanese noble family. the melzi family were notable figures in the military at the time, giovanni’s father being the engineer for francesco ii sforza's military and a captain in the militia in Milan under louis xii. he was interested in the arts from a very young age alas, being of a noble family, matters of politics and being encouraged to enter social circles were teachings thrust upon him much more than any artistry.
1505: leonardo da vinci returned to milan and stayed with the melzi family where he instantly became a role model in young giovanni’s eyes. the young boy, aged only six, looked up to the artista during his time in the city and saw that his own desires to create rise above anything his father wished to teach him. da vinci ended up staying much longer than intended and adopted giovanni into his workshop as an apprentice.
1513: aged fourteen, giovanni travelled with da vinci to rome alongside three other apprentices. the four resided within the vatican, where michaelangelo and raphael were also at the time, under the patronage of pope leo x. during this time leonardo was present at a meeting between the pope and the french king, to whom he created a mechanical lion, which was able to walk, with the help of his apprentices on hand. the stay at the vatican was very productive though it is uncertain how well da vinci and co were made to feel welcome due to da vinci’s interest in necromancy and often spent the nights exploring the bodies of the recently deceased. between the artistry and the interest in the dead, the four still made plenty of time for pranks; none more so than da vinci himself.
1516: at the age of seventeen giovanni made his last trip with the infamous leonardo da vinci. at this time giovanni was the last pupil to contribute to leonardo’s works and also the last to stay at his side as they travelled to france, to stay and work in the court of the new king; francis i. he was given an annual payment of 400 gold crowns (to da vinci’s 1000) and worked closely to assist leonardo and often to encourage him to finish his french commissions. his time in france was truly the time where giovanni flourished as both a young man and as an artist, occasionally recieving commissions of his own aside from his work with his fellow italian.
1519: the year leonardo da vinci died was the most difficult for giovanni. not only had he lost the man whom took him undr his wing and had more confidence in him than anyone ever had, he had lost the man who was more of a father figure to him than his own blood. many of da vinci’s students over the years were rumoured to have been lovers of the artist but the love between giovanni and leonardo had been so pure and so genuine that they may as well have been father and son, so much so that gio was in face named as leonardo’s heir. he recieved all of his master’s manuscripts, drawings, materials and paintings, the only things he didn’t inherit were one furlined cloak that went to a serving woman and his vineyard. giovanni even inherited the money owed to leonardo by the french king.
1520 - 1536: in the time since his master passed, giovanni has since dedicated his life to keeping da vinci’s name alive and trying to preserve it for generations to come. he has been compiling the artist’s many manuscripts and sketches to create a grand memoir that future generations can read in wonder with the argument that painting and art too can be seen as a science. giovanni did return to italy after leonardo’s death but much time has been spent travelling in a bid to complete many of his unfinished paintings as well as plans for works that were never started. typical da vinci.
as well as being an artist, giovannis also his father’s heir and has a possition within the milanese nobility which should give him some credibitliy within the foreign courts and also plenty of room for plots as both a noble man AND an artist! so you should love him please xo
