Thank you to @jabberwockypie for cheerleading this AU’s beginning, and to @empresslucrezia for inspiring where this AU is going to go and this is the first necessary prequisite to get to.

AO3 | DW

Fandom: The Borgias (Showtime)
AU: Secrets in Crimson
Word Count: 1645
Characters: Cardinal Ascanio Maria Sforza, Guiliano della Rovere | Pope Julius II

Pope Julius II would be having a better day if Ascanio Sforza had had the grace to just stay dead.

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“Cardinal Sforza.”

The voice is flat, disbelieving, and Ascanio lets himself smile a moment before he turns away from the windows of the papal apartments to face della Rovere.

“Your Holiness.”

Ascanio makes a proper bow, coming forward to kneel and kiss the ring extended to him automatically. Though it is snatched back as his lips brush it, as della Rovere recalls that Ascanio should be dead. Has, in fact, been dead and buried for weeks now. Possibly months. Time passes differently when one is dead.

“You were buried. Died of plague.”

Della Rovere is watching him with a horrified fascination, and Ascanio allows himself another sardonic little smile. It had been worth the effort to sneak into the papal apartments, if only to see the expression on della Rovere’s face.

“I remember.” Ascanio returns to the window he’d been looking out of, settling on the wide ledge beneath it. “I hear whispers that you plan to build me a mausoleum as part of your expansion of the basilica of Santa Maria del Popolo. I’m almost flattered.”

“You were a worthy and honest opponent.” Della Rovere moves to sit in the straight-backed chair near the cold hearth that Ascanio remembers him having brought in after he’d had the papal apartments stripped of the Borgia finery and decoration. “It’s the least I can do.”

Ascanio tilts his head in acknowledgement of that. It is nice, to know that he hasn’t been entirely forgotten already, for all that he had failed in his final years to maintain his influence after the fall of his cousins, one by one.

“How are you here again, if I might ask?” Della Rovere is watching him with sharp eyes and the carefully bland mask that Ascanio knows well from consistory and conclave.

“You would have to ask my patron about the how. I declined to ask exactly what is required for him to ressurect someone he chooses to bring back.” Though he does expect that if they opened his grave, they would find the remains of his decaying body. He hadn’t woken up in his grave, after all.

“So you are more than a mere apparition. Who is your patron?”

“I didn’t ask his name.” Ascanio had not felt that the being was evil, and it had been hard enough to look at him when Ascanio felt he was looking into a warped mirror. Himself, in the black robes of a Dominican monk. “Only the cost of what he offered.”

“And what was that cost?”

“Never to die, even if I should wish an end.” Never to enter Heaven, though it also promised he would never be condemned to Hell, either. Ascanio isn’t entirely sure either exists in the first place, though it makes less difference now than it did when he had lived and died.

“Nothing more?” Della Rovere raises an eyebrow, and Ascanio smirks in return, if only for a moment.

“If there is to be more, he has yet to tell me.” Ascanio will not share that he had asked for this because there were still Borgias left in the world whose ambitions he worried for. Never mind that Cesare Borgia was locked away in Spain, or that Lucrezia Borgia seems to have settled happily into the role of wife and mother and duchess. So long as they live, he would not ask to be released from this bargain.

“And why are you here?” The small gesture della Rovere makes could indicate the apartments, the Vatican, or Rome herself. Perhaps all of them.

“I did not cease to be Cardinal Sforza simply because I died, Your Holiness. I still hold those oaths sacred. What use you would choose to make of a Cardinal who was dead and now cannot die, I cannot say.” Ascanio studies the ring he still wears on his finger. It had been the one thing he wore when he woke, since apparently even his patron has limits to his power. “I will need a new hat, and new robes, however. I’m afraid they did not survive my ressurection.”

Della Rovere’s face goes through an interesting contortion, as if he is envisioning how Ascanio might have woken into this new life, and isn’t certain if he regrets it or not.

“I think it would be inadviseable to bring your continued existence to the knowledge of your brother Cardinals.” Della Rovere smiles, thin and mirthless. “I would not wish to have a consistory full of Cardinals that will never die.”

Ascanio chuckles a moment, shaking his head. “I do not think most of them would be offered this bargain, Your Holiness.”

“Too much of God, or too little?”

“Both, I think, if not necessarily in the same person.” Ascanio shrugs, leaning back a little in the embrasure, feeling the press of the wall against his shoulders. It’s nice that such things are solid again, rather than something he could drift through without truly noticing. “Most are content enough to die when it is their time, and ascend to Heaven as they’re certain is their right. I was not.”

“Afraid you might find yourself in Hell, rather than Heaven?” Della Rovere is still watching him closely, and Ascanio finds the continued scrutiny amusing. He’s not going to vanish, or suddenly become some hellish creature to torment his former rival.

“No. I was never concerned about the disposition of my immortal soul.” He laces his fingers together around his knee, watching della Rovere in turn. “I had more worldly concerns when I was alive, and I could not let them go when I died.”

Della Rovere scoffs, shaking his head. “I will not return to you your Cardinal’s hat if all you plan to do is return to the petty intrigues and acquisition of power that plagues all men.”

“Those are not the concerns which kept me here.” Ascanio refrains from smiling at the disbelief on della Rovere’s face. “I was Vice Chancellor to a Pope with acknowledged children, Your Holiness. There are still three of those children living.”

One of them without any evident ambition, but Ascanio will not entirely discount Gioffre Borgia until he is certain the young man is dead, buried, and passed on to whatever might await him. It is Cesare Borgia – even imprisoned, he will never be truly rendered harmless save by a lasting death – and Lucrezia Borgia who concern him most.

“You wished to return for the Borgia family.” There is venom in della Rovere’s voice, as well as a wealth of disgust, but both are expected. Ascanio knows just how much della Rovere despises the Borgias.

“How else am I to be certain that they don’t cause further harm in their ambitions?” Ascanio gives della Rovere a bland smile. “They have few enough people who are willing to do such a thing.”

“You don’t intend to assist them?”

“At the moment, I am in no position to truly assist any of them. I am a Cardinal without income or influence, unless Your Holiness chooses to return some of the benefices which were mine in life.”

Della Rovere is silent a moment, finally looking away from Ascanio to study the summer sky outside the window instead. “If I were to gift you such benefices again, would you use the money to aid Cesare Borgia?”

“He is currently imprisoned in Segovia, is he not?” No doubt plotting escape, but Ascanio no longer has the ability to drift where his thoughts take him to see what Cesare is currently up to. “Your Holiness has only to ensure that I must remain in Rome to be certain I can do nothing to provide him assistance.”

Return to him his Cardinal’s hat and robes and place in the consistory. Let someone else be Vice Chancellor, he doesn’t care, but for all that he would see that the Borgias that live have a minder, he is still a Prince of the Church, and has no wish to leave that behind.

“And what do I get in return for your continued presence in Rome? Besides knowing that you will not go directly to whoever might aid Cesare Borgia in escaping his just imprisonment?”

“An ally in your consistory, no matter how much your other Cardinals protest what changes you might deem appropriate for them and our Holy Mother Church. Both now, and in conclave once you have departed this world.” Ascanio meets della Rovere’s gaze steadily. “Someone who can be relied upon not to assist you in departing this world, no matter what enemies you might make.”

“Not even if you’re asked to do so by a Borgia?”

“I have a vested interest in being certain you’re content in your death when the natural course of the world brings it, Your Holiness. To aid in your assassination would be against my best interests.”

“And if nothing else, I can trust you to act in your own best interests.”

That was not a question, and Ascanio does not feel the need to reply. Della Rovere knows full well that Ascanio will act in his own – and his family’s, what’s left of it – best interests. That his best interests may also encompass what is best for those Borgias that still live also needs not be spoken to be known. Pope Alexander had seen to that years ago.

“Very well.” Della Rovere straightens a little in his chair. “I would keep your renewed life a secret from the College of Cardinals at the moment, and put your talents to use elsewhere. When I deem it the proper time, then you will rejoin your brother Cardinals to continue the work of our Holy Mother Church.”

It will suffice, for now, even if it isn’t entirely what Ascanio wants. And if della Rovere proves to be a fool, Ascanio can tell the consistory himself of his continued existence.

“As you wish, Your Holiness.”