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[queerchoicesblog]

Memories of Rome (BB, Kamilah x MC; Kamilah x Artemisia)

I’m a bit late but I got this request from a sweet Nonny for a Kamilah x MC fanfic for the Prompt “Holidays/Vacation” of the Choices March Challenge hosted by @mariamulroney ...and here it is!

A trip to Rome (predictably) turns into a journey to the past for Kamilah, as Rome was the city of her long lost true love, the Italian painter Artemisia. While she’s waiting for Amy to get ready for a visit to a special place, the Vampire Queen goes down on a memory lane. The fanfic is both Kamilah x MC & Kamilah x Artemisia so...hope you like it, lovelies! 😘

Prompt: Holidays/Vacation 

Word Count: 1530

Perma tag: @brightpinkpeppercorn @psychopathdreamer21 @abunchofbadchoices @bbaba-yagaa @silverhawkenzie @begging-for-kamilah @melodyofgraves @bhavf @snowwritings

Kamilah Tag: @zoe6111 + I’m adding @kinda-iconic since BB and the Kamilah’s (romantic) past headcanon (but feel free to ignore this if you’re not interested beanie!)

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So, in the end, here she was. Back in the place she made an oath to forget and never go back again. The thought hit Kamilah as she leaned on the trails of the balcony of the Roman hotel suite she booked for her and Amy. She was waiting for her girlfriend to “add the finishing touches to her makeup”...or so she said half an hour earlier. The girl took that trip very seriously: she had never been to Europe before and she jumped into Kamilah’s arms when the vampire invited her to join her on a trip to Rome.

Rome...Kamilah’s mind was filled with memories of that city. The city of her long lost Italian love there. Probably her only true love. Artemisa was born there in a family of merchants. They never truly understood Art and how a girl, whose primary concern was supposed to find a suitable husband, could be interested in painting. “We already have Messer Da Vinci, Michelangelo and Raffaello for that! It’s a man job” her parents used to say her. When she was a bit tipsy after a couple of glasses of wine, the beautiful misunderstood artist would prove herself in her best imitation of her parents: “Painting is for men, sewing is for women: how hard that could be to understand, Artemisia?”. Her Italian lover was quite hilarious in those performances, but Kamilah’s heart tightened back then at the thought of the amount of pain those words had certainly caused to her beautiful girl. To help her she became her patron and exclusive model: it was a joy seeing the artist, brows furrowed in concentration, draw lines on a blank canvas and create masterpieces the world was now oblivious of. A loose strand of red hair falling on her shoulder, the smirk Artemisia would flash her before turning back to the canvas when she was modeling for her...it was all in her mind. They spent most of the time in Florence or “the Olympus of the Arts” as the artists called it. But when  Artemisia caught tuberculosis she begged Kamilah to let her see Rome once more: “come with me, I don’t wish to part from you so soon but I...I really need to see Rome one more time before...well, before it’s too late I guess”. Kamilah did everything in her power to grant her desperate, dying flower her wish...and that’s where The Wolf of Venice found them. Rome was a place of grief for the vampire. 

But that was then and this is now, she thought. It was a log time ago. Rome had changed a lot since the Reinassence days and so did Kamilah. She didn’t age but her heart had been torn apart several times since then, even though she took great pains to conceal it. Nobody loves and most importantly respects a crying queen: she always shed her tears where no one could see her at her lowest and only showed others the raging majestic “Vampire Queen” figure oozing confidence and power. Yet she still cherished every long-lost lover in the hidden depths of her heart and Artemisia always had a special place nestled for her. She was Kamilah’s greatest love and the vampire found herself wondering what the ill-fated painter would have thought of Amy.

She shook her head and looked over her shoulder: the young woman was trying another dress on, pouting to her own reflection in the mirror. Kamilah smiled to herself: Artemisia would have probably liked Amy. She would have observed that she reminded of a pale moon surrounded by the darkness of raven curls and brightened by two sapphire eyes shining like gems. Artemisia loved poetry and metaphors and used to say that you could tell a lot about a person from their visage and that eyes were mirrors of the soul. “Very well, then, what does mine say?” she asked her once when she first met her. Kamilah only meant to tease her but the artist took it very seriously and stared at the vampire’s face very carefully. Then she gave her verdict: “I hope you don’t get my words as an offense, fair lady, but your visage has the beauty of the wolf”. Kamilah chuckled back then: “Is that a bad thing?”. Artemisia turned to her once more: “Oh no, wolves are beautiful creatures, dangerous and mysterious. back then: “Is that a bad thing?”. Artemisia turned to her once more: “Oh no, wolves are beautiful creatures, dangerous and mysterious. Wild and refined, rascals and royals at the same time, if you wish. However...” she stopped to consider her next words. “However?” Kamilah encouraged her. The painter gave her a weak smile: “However, even though they live in a pack, they can be very lonely too. Alas, lady Kamilah, you have the eyes of a lone wolf and it makes me a little sad and concerned for you: lone wolves are probably the strongest of all, but are they happy? That I cannot tell...”.

Before that memory could make her eyes well with tears, Kamilah tried to imagine Artemisia being amused by Adrien’s assistant. She would have been rather curious and probably envious of the modern young woman wearing shorts where she could have been blamed for letting someone catch a glimpse of her ankle. She would have laughed tenderly at the girl who kept asking Kamilah if they could get another slice of pizza or gelato. “You know that this is what kids ask for, right?” Kamilah teased her and Amy would hook her arm around her waist and comment: “Well, Kam, what can I say? When in Rome do as the Roman..kids do”. It was so endearing that Amy saved on her phone a whole stack of pictures from her favorite tv serial A Courtesan Of Rome and spent days searching for the historical location of most of the scenes. She walked around the streets holding her precious list in her hands and asking directions to locals if Kamilah didn’ t know the way. The poor thing was so upset to learn that the building that hosted the famous scholae of Lena was destroyed by a fire during the Middle Ages and that Cassius’ villa was under renovation and therefore closed at the moment. She found consolation in visiting the Colosseum and the Old Market street; after that, she insisted to take a photo in the Forum of Caesar: she posed among the ruins proudly showing off her “Honor to the Catauni” ACOR t-shirt. That made Kamilah smiled to herself, half amused yet proud of “her little enemy of Rome”. Amy was ecstatic about the trip and wandered around like a happy little puppy: one night she even started dancing in the street humming an old Italo-American song On An Evening In Roma. She reached for the vampire's hand: “C’mon, dance with me Kam! We’re in Rome!”. Her little firefly was a sight to see. “Amy do you realize that literally no one dances in the street in Rome? It’s a movie thing!” Kamilah chuckled but after seeing the cute pout on Amy’s face she laughed and joined her on an impromptu dance.

“Kam?”

Kamilah snapped out of her train of thoughts and saw Amy in a floral dress standing next to her. She was stroking her back gently and smiled apologetically at her when she turned towards her.

“Sorry for keeping you waiting. I’m ready to go, if you are!”

Kamilah pressed a kiss on her forehead.

“Of course, habibti. Let’s grab our jackets, I can’t wait to show you this place tonight”

“You mentioned it’s quite special, I’m so excited!”

Kamilah helped Amy with her jacket and they walked down into the Roman night. Kamilah found out that the old tavern that Artemisia loved was still there. Amy never asked anything about her past and Kamilah was grateful for it; when Kamilah was driving them to the airport she only told her that if she wanted to spend some time on her own over there, it was okay. “Or I could come with you if you want to...visit someone. But I don’t want to impose” she added, blushing furiously and stumbling on her own words.

Kamilah didn’t want Amy to think that she took her on a memory lane trip: Amy wasn’t jealous of Artemisia but that wouldn’t have been fair to her little firefly. Artemisa was gone, Amy was there, happily staring at the old tavern. 

“Oh my god! That’s the place? It seems so-” Amy tried to find the right word but Kamilah interrupted her, placing an arm around her shoulders.

“Surprisingly, they still cook some traditional plates I ate when I was here” she whispered conspiratorially into her ear.

The young woman looked at her in awe.

“For real?”

“Yes, wanna try them, habibti? I cannot assure this tavern would be exactly as it was during the Reinassence but it’s the closest I could get. And I’d love to share it with you.”

Kamilah placed a soft kiss on the top of Amy’s head before leading her to one of the reserved tables. It was time for new memories of Rome, new memories with Amy.