Giuseppe and The Bourbon Prince (one-shot, PG13/slash, J/OC)

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redwinter101
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Giuseppe and The Bourbon Prince (one-shot, PG13/slash, J/OC)

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Title: Giuseppe and The Bourbon Prince
Author: redwinter101
Rating: PG-13/slash
Disclaimer: I don't own Moonlight or any of its characters.
Note: I'd always intended to write some more Giuseppe stories - it just took me a while. This takes place between chapters 2 and 3 of Emancipation but you don't need to have read that story for this to make sense. Just to give a little background: Giuseppe Costanza is Josef (his birthname), he was born in Italy and following his turning and various adventures along the way, has ended up at the court of the boy king, Louis XIV, in Paris. His patron is Cardinal Jules Mazarin, Chief Minister of France. The fronde was the name given to a civil war in France that lasted from 1648-9 and then re-commenced from 1650-3. But hopefully, this isn't a history lesson (!), more of a boy's own adventure.....

***************************************************************************************************


For catmoon



-- Giuseppe and The Bourbon Prince ---

Paris, Palais du Louvre
January 15, 1650

"You understand precisely what is required tonight?" Mazarin, gimlet-eyed, ever intimidating, oozing power.

"Yes, Eminence. The Prince will not be able to contact his brother until they meet at the Palais Royal tomorrow. I will make sure of it." Giuseppe couldn't hide a smile, confident in his skills. Armand de Bourbon, Prince of Conti, wouldn't know what had hit him until it was too late. And if the dice rolled in Giuseppe's favour, maybe not even then. It was always useful to leave some bridges un-burned.

"You seem confident in your ability to keep him out of my way. He is unpredictable, maybe even crazed. If even a small amount of what I hear is true, you should have a care. Over-confidence has been the downfall of greater, and lesser men than you."

"I have studied him well and the snare has been laid. He will not trouble our plans, Eminence."

"I trust, for all our sakes, that you are right. Now, go. The hour draws near." A rustle of robes as he extended his arm. Giuseppe took his hand, pressed his lips to the Cardinal's ring, bowed and rose to leave.

"Until the morrow, Eminence, when all will be as planned."

Closing the door to the Cardinal's private chambers, Giuseppe took a moment to reconnoitre the hallway. The scents were familiar, no stray heartbeats, only the faint swish of brocade disturbed the peace as a light breeze fluttered the wall-hangings.

Light of step and firm of intent, Giuseppe made his way back to his rooms. In the months since Mazarin had brought him into his inner circle, his influence at court had grown, to the chagrin of the nobles who assumed power as their birthright. He knew the rumours: he was Mazarin's lover; he was an illegitimate son; he was the boy-king's secret brother; they all added to his air of mystery and he revelled in them. It was that air of mystery that had allowed him to enter the orbit of tonight's quarry. Issuing his servants with final instructions for the evening, he secreted himself in the bedchamber to conclude his preparations.

Armand was something of a prodigy, having successfully led a rebel army at the tender age of twenty. Under the patronage of his powerful brother, Louis II, Prince of Condé he had seemed destined for greatness. Sure-footedness on the field of battle had not translated into political or personal astuteness however and he had quickly become mired in scandal. Unwise involvement in the first fronde had made him some powerful enemies, including Mazarin; rumours of an unhealthy obsession with his sister, Anne Genevieve, Duchess of Longueville, had scandalised the court and left him without allies at a time when he most needed them. Despite an interest in theology and rumours of intentions to pursue a career in the church, he was also said to have an interest in magic and mysticism; it was this interest that had given Giuseppe his opening, an opening he intended to see to a conclusion this very night.

At times he had found life in Paris tiresome and dull, but the forced invitation to the most powerful, and troublesome nobles to live at the king's court had rendered the palace a hotbed of intrigue and double-dealing. Turn a different corner, find a different plot. Giuseppe doubted he had ever had so much fun.


*****************************


It had only taken four weeks for Armand's intrigue at the young Italian who basked in the glow of Mazarin's favour to develop into a quest for answers that would be his downfall. He watched, transfixed, as Giuseppe glided into the banquet hall, pausing to cast a secret smile in his direction before attending to the rituals of hierarchy and making his tribute to the nobles and power-brokers who loathed and feared him in equal measure.

They were of similar age and physique but to the casual observer had little else in common. Giuseppe had the smooth patter of a politician, oiling the wheels, knowing when to charm and when to threaten, whereas Armand knew that he himself had neither the subtlety nor the understanding of human nature to be anything other than a political innocent. He hated life at court; isolated from the things he loved most, the simple thrill of battle, the pleasures of home, family, his sweet sister Anne, he felt adrift and alone. In Giuseppe he saw a fellow outsider, a kindred spirit. For all his skills and influence, Giuseppe, too, would always be an intruder here, cursed by his Italian heritage and his commoner's blood.

Armand tried to keep track of Giuseppe's movements, to negotiate his way through the perfumed and primped crowd to reach his side, but no matter which course he tried to steer across the room, he never seemed to close the distance between them. Frustration built, coiling within, tightening in his gut; there was a tension in the hall that even he could sense, a pall of foreboding that added to his discomfort. He was on the point of abandoning the palace for a soothing walk in the gardens when a cool breath floated across the back of his neck. He shivered.

"Good evening, Armand." He jumped at the soft tone, filled with the thrill of anticipation, the hint of danger. It was the first time Giuseppe had ever addressed him by his given name.

He turned, unable to prevent his smile. "Good evening, Giuseppe."

Giuseppe raised an eyebrow at his reciprocal familiarity. This was going to be easy.

"And are you enjoying the revels this evening?"

Armand knew he should lie, that form and politesse required an appropriate platitude, but the truth fell from his lips, easy and light, "No. I hate this place. I hate these people. I hate this city." His chin rose in defiance, daring Giuseppe to condemn his candour. Instead, he was rewarded with a soft chuckle.

"I know precisely what you mean." Giuseppe paused, fingering the rim of his glass, not meeting Armand's eye. "I have a bottle of excellent Cognac in need of some attention. You would be more than welcome to join me, should you feel so inclined." Without waiting for an answer, Giuseppe leaned in close, whispering, "You know where my rooms are. I shall be there all evening." And he was gone, as swift and silent as he had arrived, leaving Armand pondering possibilities, knowing he would follow.

The wait, dictated by discretion, seemed interminable. Armand started to sweat, his body damp while his mouth dried, licking his lips.

"What's the matter with you, Conti? You look deathly." A busybody provided him with his perfect opportunity.

"It is just the heat, my Lord. If you will excuse me, I think a little night air is called for." He made his excuses and hurried away, turning towards the courtyard exit before a last-minute detour set him on his course towards Giuseppe's chambers. He paused on the stairs, determined to calm himself. He was unsure what the evening held in store, but he was convinced that Giuseppe Costanza was a man of wonders and secrets and he would know them before the night was through.


*****************************


Giuseppe rose from the plush chaise to answer the firm rap at the door. Flinging the door wide, his frame cast a shadow into the hallway, shrouding the young prince in darkness.

"Do come in, Armand. You are most welcome." An expansive wave of his arm bade entrance, directing Armand through the dimmed salon, drawing his eye to the softly lit bedchamber beyond.

"Th-". Armand cleared his throat and tried again. "Thank you. Your invitation is most kind." He made his way to a long chair, arranging his tailcoat carefully, stretching out a delicately-shod foot and resting his hands on his knees, surreptitiously wiping his palms. As Giuseppe stepped into the light, Armand realised he was overdressed for this particular occasion; he was unable to stifle a gasp as he took in the soft, simple breeches and undershirt, the bare feet and the short hair, no longer hidden beneath a wig.

"I'm sorry if my casual attire offends. In my own chambers I prefer comfort over convention." Giuseppe grinned. "Please make yourself comfortable while I see about that bottle of Cognac." He disappeared to a side room while Armand hurriedly fumbled with buckles and bows.

When he returned, Armand had shed shoes and stockings, wig, his ornate coat and ruffled overshirt, all carefully set to one side. He tried to look relaxed but failed, betrayed by fidgeting fingers and a tap-tap-tap of foot against floor.

"Why so tense, Armand?" Giuseppe's stealth of movement was doing nothing to calm Armand's nerves and he jumped again at the unexpected voice. "You can relax here. There are no prying eyes, just some friendly company and some fine Cognac." He proffered a balloon glass and Armand took a grateful gulp, closing his eyes briefly at the welcome burn.

"I'm not tense," he lied.

"Come, come, Armand, there is no need for secrets here. I can almost hear your heart thumping in your chest." In truth, the pound of Armand's rushing blood, the flood of conflicted emotion, was making it difficult for Giuseppe to concentrate on the matter at hand. Everything was playing out even better than he could have hoped; the fish was snagged on the hook and now all he had to do was reel him in. And he intended to enjoy it.

As the Cognac leached through his body, calming his confusion, Armand finally regained a little equilibrium. "You flatter yourself, my friend. I feel perfectly relaxed, as you say, enjoying the company and the Cognac." He raised his glass before taking another gulp. When he looked up, Giuseppe had disappeared. Gone. Nowhere to be seen.

He flinched at a chill touch on his shoulder, half-turning, dropping his glass, amber brandy splashing his breeches. But it didn't shatter. Giuseppe was in front of him, smirking, bending, holding the glass inches from the floor.

"Careful, Armand. These glasses were a gift from the King himself."

"What trickery is this?" Armand shrank back in his chair, fear etched in his stricken features.

Settling himself opposite once more, Giuseppe grinned. "No trickery, just a little magic. You believe in magic, don't you?"

"What you speak is heresy and I will hear no more of it." He rose to leave, desperate for the security of a crowd, to be back on familiar territory, to be away from this man who both thrilled and frightened him.

"Heresy is it? No more heretical than your own alchemy, your own interest in the occult. And what do you think people will say when they see you leave my chambers in such a state of.. undress? Come, come, Armand. Surely you have no fear of a little game, a little diversion to pass the time?"

Armand turned to retrieve his garments and once again Giuseppe was gone. Becalmed in the centre of the salon, thoughts addled and limbs frozen, his thoughts escaped into the silence, "How is this possible?"

"Anything's possible, my friend." The voice in his ear was accompanied by a hand on his shoulder, cool and strangely calming. Fingers trailed down his spine and he did not protest, entranced by the sensation. A firm grip and he was spun round. "Anything at all." The porcelain face, the amber eyes, the soft lips drew nearer, halting close enough for Armand to sense the breath against his cheek. "All you have to do is follow your instinct."

Giuseppe knew this was the riskiest part of the whole plan. Armand might still try to leave and then he would have to take extreme measures to keep him captive. As he walked through to the bedchamber, he breathed a soft sigh of relief at the halting footfall tracking him.

The room had been prepared precisely as instructed. Soft candlelight, a warmed bed, secluded behind heavy tapestries, food and drink to tempt and the promise of an uninterrupted night. As Armand stepped in, Giuseppe closed the door behind them, turning the key. "To make sure we are not disturbed," he murmured. "Please, make yourself comfortable."

There was nowhere to sit except the bed. Armand didn't move.

"Tell me how you do these things." There was a tone of command, a tone developed over years of privilege and Giuseppe bristled.

"All in good time."

"I would know now, sir."

"You would, would you? Well I don't feel inclined to give away all my secrets just yet. I do however feel inclined to a little sustenance." He held out a platter of sweetmeats. "I recommend the pastries. Truly excellent."

"Do not mock me. I am no fool, Costanza."

"Why so harsh, Armand? There is nothing to fear. There is only pleasure and enlightenment to be found within these walls. Trust me." He picked a dainty morsel from the platter and held it to Armand's lips. "Trust me." His other hand came to rest gently at his quarry's hip and he locked his gaze to the young prince. He felt the moment of surrender as Armand opened his mouth, taking in sugar and fingertips, licking, tasting.

Giuseppe stepped closer. "Trust me and I will share my secrets with you." He reached out, thumbing a stray crystal of sugar, allowing his hand to linger at the noble jaw, a fluttering stroke along the elegant neck.

He pulled away, reaching for the table, gathering a goblet, ornate, chalice-like. "Drink this and all will be revealed." A rich wine tempered with enough of Giuseppe's blood to induce a temporary but heady euphoria.

Armand sniffed warily. "You first."

Giuseppe threw his head back and laughed. "Very well." He took a long sip. "No poison here, I assure you. Drink."

The wine coated his throat, rich, thick, heady; there was something else, a taste he couldn't identify, not unpleasant and he drained the goblet greedily. "So, what happens now?"

Giuseppe laughed, guiding him over to sit on the bed. "Just wait a few moments and you will see. Close your eyes."

Armand did as instructed, waiting, expectant. Slowly, surely a warmth began to spread from his gut, tingling, bringing his senses to life. The sounds in the room seemed sharper, the smells more potent. Focusing on Giuseppe, he could sense his presence, feel him close, watching and waiting. He reached out, fingers brushing against soft linen. Giuseppe took his hand, guiding his track across his chest, circling the planes of muscles and sinew.

Opening his eyes, Armand smiled. "I feel.. I feel..."

"Alive?" Giuseppe ventured.

"Yes! That's it. I feel as though I've been wakened from a deep sleep. How...?"

Giuseppe shrugged. "Just enjoy the sensations, feel what your body is really capable of. Enjoy it. Enjoy this." He leant close, brushing his lips against Armand's, his hands roving, his touch sure, circling shoulders and neck, stroking firmly. Armand accepted the kiss, instinct overtaking reason. Somewhere deep inside a tiny voice railed at the madness of what was happening, but it was drowned out by the cacophony of desire and excitement flowing through him. He lay back, pulling Giuseppe on top of him, revelling in the feel of hard muscle and jutting bone pressing against him.

Armand had never lain with a man before and he had imagined it would be rough, brutal, painful. He was unprepared for the gentle acceptance, the comfort and the burning desire he felt within Giuseppe's experienced embrace. They moved gracefully, flowing across each other, touching, savouring. His arousal was powerful, tinged with the thrill of exoticism and danger and he gasped with joy at the moment of penetration. This truly felt like a meeting of equals, of a window into a new, powerful, secret world.

As Giuseppe's practised fingers urged him to his own release, he cried out, shuddering his ecstasy, all fear gone, only pleasure remaining.

As they calmed, spent, they curled themselves around each other, the rest of the world forgotten, even for Giuseppe. He regretted the machinations that had brought them together, but he would never forget the joy he had found in this bed, this night, with his prince. Memories of a sultry, Neapolitan night reared, the tender touch of another who had shown him the pleasures to be found between men. He smiled. Caravaggio would be proud of his pupil's progress.

A gentle snoring signalled Armand's retreat into sleep and Giuseppe disentangled himself from the uncomfortably warm nest. He would have to forego the cool cellar for tonight, for he had a watch to keep.


*****************************


Armand woke, disorientated, blinking against the harsh sunlight.

"Good morning." The clear, tenor voice from across the room prompted a flood of recollection. If the priests were to be believed, he had just condemned himself to the eternal fires of Hell, but he had never felt more free, more alive, more expectant.

He sat up, unable to stifle a yawning smile. "Good morning to you too. It seems you have me at a disadvantage, sir." Giuseppe was fully clothed and adorned, ready to face the day.

"Well, your clothes are there, ready. There is fresh water in the ewer and everything you might need laid out for you. I will leave you to your preparations while I summon food and drink." Giuseppe glanced at the clock. "Do you have appointments today?"

"Yes, I am to meet my brother at the Palais Royal in an hour. I should have visited him last night, we had matters to discuss, but, it seems I was distracted along the way." He grinned and all of a sudden Giuseppe saw the boy behind the prince.

"Well, that gives us plenty of time for breakfast. I shall accompany you to the Palais if you are amenable. A little morning air will be very welcome."

"Giuseppe, I..."

"No questions, my young friend. For I am unsure if I have the answers you seek." With a parting kiss, Giuseppe left him to prepare himself and headed out to the salon. The servants had left food and drink and departed again as instructed. Following a companionable meal, they headed out to the courtyard and strolled the length of the Tuileries, the Palais Royal gleaming in the mid-distance.

"So, what business do you have with your brother this morning?"

Armand's eyes narrowed. "What business is that of yours?"

"I'm just making conversation. If it is a secret you wish to keep then it is no matter to me. I will enjoy the bright morning, the fresh air, the birds singing, and leave your family obligations alone."

"We may have shared intimacies but that doesn't mean that I can be your ally. Your allegiance to Mazarin is not mine, nor will it ever be."

"I understand and I would expect nothing less. Loyalty is a commodity beyond price and I would neither ask nor expect you to betray your brother or your noble cause. Just as I would expect you to honour my own allegiances, different though they may be." They were approaching the Palais. "And on that note, I shall bid you farewell. My business takes me to other parts of the city and I would not intrude on your meeting."

A handshake, a moment of recognition, a shared smile and the lovers parted.

As Armand made his way through the great gate, Giuseppe secreted himself in the courtyard, waiting for the inevitable. Sure enough, precisely as planned, the Captain of the Guard and a squad of Mazarin's personal protection force arrived and entered. Shouts, scuffling, aggrieved and righteous anger, these were the sounds of Armand's arrest with his co-conspirators. Giuseppe allowed himself a moment of regret, his head falling to his chest with a deep sigh, before turning back towards the Louvre, towards Mazarin, towards his destiny, towards his reward, earned by a betrayal that hurt him more than he could have foreseen. Armand's fate now lay in Mazarin's hands and Giuseppe could only hope that he would be merciful. Whatever the future held for the Bourbon prince, Giuseppe would always remember the connection they had made, genuine and real, amidst a foul sea of patronage, vengeance and the quest for power.

As he reached Mazarin's chambers, prepared to report on his grand success, Giuseppe realised that it was a long time since he had felt so utterly alone.
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Re: Giuseppe and The Bourbon Prince (one-shot, PG13/slash, J/OC)

Post by redwinter101 »

And just to note, catmoon, see the shelf? I am determined to write more.

mitzie, I never got a chance to thank you for your comment at VLF before the site changeover - so I shall do it here and now!!!

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Re: Giuseppe and The Bourbon Prince (one-shot, PG13/slash, J/OC)

Post by Catmoon »

Love it love it love it! Wish I could remember the comments I'd posted on the other board. I'm so happy you've reposted this here so quickly, because I know I'm going to want to re-read it often. Thanks again for the dedication -- I'm thrilled that I in some small way inspired this wonderful piece.
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Re: Giuseppe and The Bourbon Prince (one-shot, PG13/slash, J/OC)

Post by redwinter101 »

Thanks, Cat :D

And no worries about your comment at ML4E - I saved all my comments from there so I have it nice and safe.

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Re: Giuseppe and The Bourbon Prince (one-shot, PG13/slash, J/OC)

Post by allegrita »

Red,

I hadn't read this story before; it's really wonderful! Josef at his Machiavellian best, but plagued by that pesky conscience that keeps cropping up at inconvenient times. Thank goodness the conscience's voice isn't as strong as the voice of self interest. ;)

I loved the verbal picture you drew of the ornateness of the court, the dress, the manners of the day. And I really did feel for the poor prince--such a fish out of water there at Court; all he wanted was to go back where he felt at home, but no such luck. The poor boy was trapped good and proper.

I can't wait to read more stories about Giuseppe...
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Re: Giuseppe and The Bourbon Prince (one-shot, PG13/slash, J/OC)

Post by redwinter101 »

Thanks, alle :D

This was posted just before ML4E shut down for the site changeover so it got a bit lost. I'd always wanted to come back to Giuseppe - and I have no idea why it took me so long. I do have such fun with him.

Delighted you enjoyed it.

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Re: Giuseppe and The Bourbon Prince (one-shot, PG13/slash, J/OC)

Post by Fleur de Lisa »

First of all, how much do I love this little description?:
gimlet-eyed
And your dialogue is so true to the time that this is set. Historical fiction is your realm, dear.
The scents were familiar, no stray heartbeats, only the faint swish of brocade disturbed the peace as a light breeze fluttered the wall-hangings.
Pretty, pretty, pretty!
And this:
Light of step and firm of intent
Where do you get all these perfect phrases? Love these little descriptions that say so much with so few words.

Since the quoting I am doing is becoming ridiculous, suffice it to say, that you are so damn good at setting the scenes. I have told you this before, but it bears repeating, the effect you cause with your words, puts me in the story. I am viewing it, hearing it, smelling it.
Hell, I have never had cognac, had no desire to even try it, and now find myself craving a taste.

At the risk of sounding even more repetitive, I do not ordinarily read slash. Just not my thing, but the way you write it, it is part of the greater story, not the main event; nor the only one by a long shot.

Just when I think you are very good, you write something like this, and I have to find new terms to place on you, new thrones to build for you.

Really, red. So damn good.
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Re: Giuseppe and The Bourbon Prince (one-shot, PG13/slash, J/OC)

Post by redwinter101 »

'Scuse me while I go squee for a moment. Lisa's back. With quotes. My world is complete :)

I so hoped you'd like this - I know you love the historicals but the slash, not so much, so this is high praise indeed.

And in the roughly 10 minutes a day I'm finding spare at the moment, I am working on an original historical. It'll take me 20 years at this rate, but, we'll see.

If I'm getting a throne, can I have a tiara too?

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Re: Giuseppe and The Bourbon Prince (one-shot, PG13/slash, J/OC)

Post by Fleur de Lisa »

Find an extra few minutes to work on that original piece, the world can't wait that long!
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