#I think my Acacius likes to call himself Dad.

[mybworlds]

Poor Unfortunate Souls

Pairing: Marcus Acacius x f!reader

Warnings: use of you, you’re a mermaid, I won't give any details except for nice long legs and very long hair, nudity, violence (a little?), use of both pov. If I missed smt please let me know.

Summary: you decide to go back to Marcus, but it's not as happy or easy as you think..

Masterlist

A/N Thank you so much for the amount of love and support, it means a lot. The title of the chapter takes inspiration from the very famous song from Walt Disney's The Little Mermaid. Likes, comments and reblogs are not mandatory, but very appreciated! ❤️ PLEASE READ IT! Before you go, there will be a moment in this chapter that can be potentially triggering. So, I will be putting the scene in red in case you want to skip it. You won't be missing anything if you skip it.

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Taglist @harriedandharassed; @orcasoul; @blazeflays; @ijustlovemensm; @duck-duck-goose2; @blacksnape123

Thx for the dividers @saradika-graphics.

Coming home should have been a relief because you are back among your people, you no longer have to lie or pretend to be someone you are not; instead, you feel completely out of place.

Your sisters all came running towards you, hugging you and begging you not to do it again. Your father looked at you in silence for a long time, his gaze relieved yet contrite at the same time. With your sisters you even managed to smile and giggle, but in front of his gaze you felt like a child again, guilty as if you have done something wrong.

Since you returned to your world, eight of what Marcus calls weeks have passed, not a single moment has passed that you haven't thought of him, you wonder how he’s, what he’s doing, if the plans he told you about have come to fruition or if he’s in danger. Day and night you are tempted to return to the surface to him, to Marcus, to your Marcus.

However, you think that you can't run away again. You can't leave, as you want to do, without first talking to your parent. Although he’s a very gruff and stern man, he deserves to know what your real intentions are and you need to be honest with him.

You find him in the throne room staring into space, he looks like he's thinking intensely about something serious, then sensing your presence, he looks up, “Come.” he says with a wave of his hand.

You swallow and, with a slight initial hesitation, you approach. Your father looks tired, but decides not to let it show, “I’ve always thought of myself as a reasonable newt,” he begins, “but I’ve set certain rules and I expect everyone to abide by them, including my daughters. Especially my daughters.” he asserts by placing emphasis on the last part of the sentence.

You don't know what to say to him. You've thought many times that perhaps before turning to your aunt you should have spoken to your father and told him of your deepest desire. However, knowing his complete aversion to the human world, you turned to someone who would surely understand you.

“Do you love him?” he asks you after a few moments of silence, catching you off guard because you never thought you’d hear this question, at least not from him.

“I do,” you whisper, “I know you don’t approve, I know you wanted a life for me here under the surface of the sea, with a newt by my side, but… it didn’t happen that way. I know, they are not peaceful creatures, they are belligerent and you always have to watch your back, but... what I felt with him and for him I will never feel with anyone, believe me, dad." you say again “He has a violent past and his future will probably be too, but with me he was wonderful, sweet, present, attentive, he never treated me cruelly or put me in strange situations, I’m in love with him.” you conclude by pronouncing those words that you finally manage to admit out loud and to your father himself, to probably the only newt who would never understand or share your thought.

The room fills with a strange energy and you fear that your father will have a bad reaction or that he might have you locked up, but this doesn't happen.

Your father, on the other hand, sighs and paces the room for a while as if lost in thought, then asks you, “Mira gave you the potion, didn’t she?”

You just nod.

He sighs again, “I also pushed her away for this. You know not only because she brought you to the surface when you were only a few months old, but also because she practiced these rather ambiguous magical arts that have ruined many mermaids and newts.” he explains.

“I didn’t know that,” you comment simply, lowering your gaze.

“I thought so. Otherwise you would have stopped talking to her too,” he replies.

“But nothing happened to me.” You point out, thinking back to something strange or different that you may have perceived, but nothing comes to mind.

“Maybe not right away, but there will be something.”

“Or maybe since I’m her granddaughter nothing will happen to me at all!” you exclaim.

“I hope so.” even if his tone of voice is not very convincing.

You start to have doubts. What if your body might react strangely, and what if you could never go back to him? What if once you turn human you can never return to your father and sisters? What if in the future the potions are not as effective?

“Father,” you sigh, “I… I need him,” you confess, “I want to go back to him. I know you won’t approve, but I have to go back to him. I have a… feeling that he needs me.” you are silent for a long moment “I wish you could know him… he is… so unhappy and yet so sweet… father.”

Your father sighs thoughtfully, placing a hand on his face as if to hide his facial expression from your sight. You swallow, “I was afraid you'd say that.” He tells you when you thought he'd never speak to you again “My little one, humans are incapable of feeling such feelings, I don't want you to suffer because of one of them,” he asserts “you risk suffering a lot, you know that?”

You nod, “Yes, Father. I know, but being with them I learned one thing: every emotion is worth living and,” you swallow because you know you are venturing into a completely unexplored sea “I want to experience all of this with him.”

He pulls away from you slightly, then turns back, “Are you sure he reciprocates these feelings?”

You know he's trying to dissuade you, you know he's doing it for your own good, you don't know if Marcus shares everything you feel for him to the fullest, you don't know if he'll ever understand and accept your nature, but you aren’t willing to give up and you are willing to take the risk.

“Please think again, it’s too dangerous. I don’t trust ‘em at all.” Your face darkens.

You didn't expect him to give his blessing or to approve of your choice, but you hoped that seeing your determination he would be convinced and instead...

“Father, I can't.” You lower your head thoughtfully, you'll have to go back to your aunt Mira and hope she gives you another potion.

“Don’t even think about it!” your father blurts out as if sensing the direction of your thoughts. “You’ve already had a good time, don’t do that.” he adds worriedly.

“Father, you give me no other choice.”

“I forbid you.” he thunders, widening his eyes as if to instill fear in you. In your parent's eyes you read the strength of a father who wants to protect his child at all costs, but there’s an even stronger determination in you and no one will ever be able to make you change your mind.

“I've made my decision,” you assert forcefully, turning your back on him and swimming away as quickly as you can. You feel guilty for turning your back on your sisters again, for contradicting your father again, but what you feel for Marcus is stronger.

Returning to your aunt Mira's den is a must even though your father has put the worry in you that she might play a trick on you and ask you for something in return or cause you harm as a result of taking one of her potions. The cold of Mira's shelter envelops you until it almost penetrates your bones, it almost takes your breath away, but you don't give up. You want to ask her for a potion that lasts longer, that gives you more time and no matter what side effects it may cause, you would do anything for him because you know that he has feelings for you too.

“Welcome back,” her deep voice seems to almost make the rocks around you vibrate and, from a semi-dark crevice, your aunt theatrically reveals herself in all her hypnotic charm, “I was expecting you to come back, so how did it go with your sweet General?” you are about to answer, but she’s still the one speaking for you “There's definitely a reason you're here, isn't there?” You open your lips again, but she's still the one answering for you “I’ve the solution for you here, the same potion I gave you last time...”

“No, auntie,” you stop her, “I’d like a potion that would last forever and that wouldn’t force me to come back down here again.”

You don't know if it's actually possible, but judging by the huge smile that appears on her face, you understand that she can satisfy you.

“I have just something for you, my sweet granddaughter,” she squeaks, walking away to fetch a completely different bottle than the last. You immediately notice a black liquid as she approaches you, “Don’t let its color fool you. It’s the most powerful potion I’ve ever created.”

You are about to grab it, but your aunt pushes it away from your grasp, “This is a very special potion and as I told you the most powerful. I can’t give it to just anyone like that.”

You frown, “Not even your niece?”

“Not even if you were my daughter.” she replies with a smirk. “Then, let’s talk about contract terms.” she continues.

"Contract terms?"

“Yes, sweetie, well I can’t just give something like that away without warn of any dangers.” Your father’s words echo in your head “It’s no big deal. It's nonsense.”

“What is it?”

“Oh, none of that, silly girl,” she says, waving her tapered hands “The contractual clauses are as follows, after taking the potion, you will immediately transform into a human creature, but on condition that you never, and I repeat never, come into contact with sea water or seaweed, anything that has to do with the sea and this world.”

“Just this?” you ask, puzzled.

“Just this?! Oh, my dear, if even a single drop were to accidentally hit you, you would return to being a mermaid, but at the same time something horrible would happen to you and you would die, and that would be the end of the story.” she concludes by closing the doors of her locker with a dramatic snap.

You think about it and do everything to silence your father's words about your aunt's questionable morality. You try to focus on the possibility, dangerous of course, that she is offering you. It’s risky and deadly, but you are willing to take any risk.

“Deal.” is the only word that comes out of your lips and this sound is enough for Mira to bring it closer to you, almost magically pushing the potion that reaches your hands.

“Oh, I almost forgot, you have to take it now and hope you can get there as quickly as possible before the potion takes full effect and can cause any damage.” she states again.

“Why do you give me a potion so powerful and dangerous? I thought you loved me, that you wanted what was best for me.” You say, looking into her eyes.

“Of course I love you, but often loving isn’t enough and then it seems that you’ve already chosen what’s best for you regardless of my opinion, dear niece, don’t you think?” your aunt replies again.

“I’m going to die, aren’t I?”

“We all die, but in your case it’s highly likely that you will either go to the surface or stay here. You see, if you go into his world you risk dying captured by someone who wants to push you back down here, if you stay here you would die of a broken heart because you are far from your man, you would pine so much that you’d let yourself die, so the ending for you, my dear sweet child, won’t change. Now make your choice.”

You lower your head feeling caged: if you choose to stay in your world, you’ll never see Marcus again and one day your father will force you to marry some newt and you would be terribly unhappy. If, however, you decide to go back to Marcus, it doesn't mean that he hasn't gotten married in the meantime and that therefore you could never be with him or love him as you hope.

In any case, for you, as your aunt said, there would be no happy ending.

“I’m ready to take the risk,” you say, aware of your choice, even though you don’t know exactly what you’re getting yourself into.

“Well, there's nothing else to add.” she says and then hands you the vial. “You have to drink it all now, in front of me.” she adds, looking you straight in the eyes.

You look at the black liquid, now there is no going back, not anymore. You remove the cap and bring the vial to your lips, “You have to drink it all in one gulp and then swim as fast as you can,” your aunt continues.

Your hands are shaking, you're scared, but you don't want to or can't go back. You drink it all in one gulp and your throat almost burns, as if you had swallowed the spines of a sea urchin, your body feels like it's in a series of spasms, you tremble. You feel like you're being torn apart from the inside, the pain is so strong and intense that you feel like you're going to faint, everything around you becomes blurry, breathing becomes increasingly difficult as the seconds pass.

Your aunt watches you without doing anything to help you, she just stands there as if enjoying that macabre spectacle.

You want to call for help, but you can't do anything except flounder and struggle for a few seconds, you look for the exit and then awkwardly swim upwards away from aunt Mira and with great difficulty even far from your world, forever.

When you reach the surface, you resurface taking a very deep breath, then once you reach the beach, you crawl until you reach the wet sand. Your arms hurt like hell, your legs feel very heavy, your lungs are burning, you feel your heart beating furiously in your chest, you even think you can hear it beating in your ears. Your vision is blurry, you think you can see his house, but... it seems so far away, so... blurry... your vision goes black, suddenly.

You faint.

When you come to, your skin is cold, your long hair stuck partly to your shoulders, partly to the beach, your lips parched and dirty with sand and gravel, you're tired, you're sleepy, you make a considerable effort not to pass out again. You look around almost confused, it's the same beach, but something is out of place. You strain your ears, but there's only a dull silence. You smell the air and there is a very unpleasant pungent odor that causes an annoying tingling in your nostrils.

You take uncertain steps, your legs can barely support you this time, you have a shooting pain every time you take a step. You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to ignore the pain you feel, and walk, very slowly, but you make it.

You find abandoned in a corner a piece of what appears to have been a ship's sail, you wear it as if it were a dress. It's a little shorter on one side and longer on the other, but it'll do. You think back to the last time Marcus held you in his arms, reassuring you and speaking to you in his deep, husky voice. You felt at home even though this world was not your home.

Now there is silence, an almost unreal silence.

You still get up unsteadily and climb over the perimeter walls, there a worse sight awaits you: clouds of smoke rise here and there from various corners of the garden, the gigantic statue that had impressed you so much the first time has been destroyed, its head has rolled away from the rest of the body of the statue now reduced to a pile of piled up stones. The green plants that adorned those rooms are incinerated, the beautiful fountains, the statues of Marcus' ancestors destroyed.

What happened?

It feels like there's been a raging battle, you want to run and shout Marcus' name, but the air is so unbreathable you can't say a word.

As you are about to enter the peristilium, a shocking and heartbreaking image appears before your eyes.

Your legs give out and your eyes widen with terror: the bodies of Marcus' servants are hanging by the neck, their clothes appear to have been partly charred, partly torn away, their faces, their arms are of a color between gray and purple.

Their arms are tied behind their shoulders and you think about the terror they must have felt. May someone have mercy on them!

Your stomach turns and you vomit at their feet. You cry and vomit as you place your palms on the cold, dirty marble.

You don't know what happened, but never before have you seen the beauty and destructive power that man is capable of.

Perhaps your father was not entirely wrong in judging the wickedness and cruelty of some men. But your father sees only their worst sides, you have seen both and in that moment you can't help but think about what might have happened to Marcus.

What could have happened to destroy his home?

You try to get up, but something hits you violently in the face and you lose consciousness.

Marcus sits in the corner of that cold prison. He is not afraid. His expression is hard, his chin held high, ready to face his fate. He has met death many times and it has grazed him many times, he is not afraid to meet it and let it take him.

He knows he will die. No one can rebel against the tyranny of the two emperors without dying. He knew it was suicide to try to restore the Republic and revive that dream that had animated Rome in the past, but he wanted to try anyway and he failed.

This is the reality.

Marcus Acacius has failed and will die.

He will die for a just cause, he will face his fate with his head held high and fighting in the gladiatorial arena. He will fight until he is exhausted. He will fight to prove that he is not afraid of the rulers, he will fight to incite the crowd to continue fighting and not give in to the oppressions of that government, he will fight with honor. This time there will be neither glory nor honor for him. He won't win in the end, he knows that, but that doesn't mean he'll give up.

Marcus looks up at the moon again high in the sky and his thoughts go to you.

He wonders if you're happy, if you're okay there... as senseless as it may seem to him, the myths about mermaids are true. A couple of months ago he had proof of this. He had heard stories of the kind, but he had dismissed them as mere sailors' tales. Marcus had always been convinced by what he could see and touch, everything else he refused to accept.

At least until he saw the woman he loves transform into a sea creature and that's when he realized how the world is even more complicated and mysterious than it already is.

His thoughts are interrupted by the creaking of a door opening, footsteps, and then Marcus glimpses two guards dragging someone near his cubicle. He observes the whole scene as best he can considering the darkness, he sees them lay down the unfortunate one who curls up on the ground emitting a strangled moan, then the two men go away and their footsteps become more and more distant until Acacius falls back into deep silence.

The unfortunate guy gropes his way through the shadows, Marcus hears him bump into the bars of the cell, “Be careful or you’ll die before the two emperors can laugh at your misfortune,” the man says in a whisper.

“Marcus? Marcus, is that you?”

The unfortunate one is a woman.. but, is it you?! No, no it's impossible, you left, he saw you go, you can't have come back!

“Marcus?” That’s your voice, yes. Marcus is not going crazy.

He whispers your name and then approaches the bars, he is against the bars, he moves his hands gropingly where he meets yours which in turn search for his. You shake hands almost frantically as if seeking contact at all costs.

“You’re here,” he says in a whisper.

“I told you I’d be back.” You tell him in a shaky breath. “What happened? Why are you here? What did they do to you?” You ask him, scared.

“I'll tell you everything, but... first, tell me, are you okay?” he asks you, groping for your face in the dark, when he finds it he places his hands on the sides of your cheeks as if to make sure you're okay, that you haven't been hurt, even if he knows well that that gesture isn't enough.

He feels the blood under his fingers, have you been beaten? Tortured? Oh, if only he could he would kill them with his own hands.

“I'm fine. I was.. just afraid I'd never see you again.. I was afraid they'd killed you.” You confess, also looking for his face. “Did they... Oh... they beat you.”

Once again, you can understand with a simple touch without the need for many words; in other circumstances, Marcus would have asked you how you do it, but not today. Today he savors only the moment when he can enjoy your voice and the contact with your skin.

Marcus chuckles, “I won’t hide it. Yeah, but I hit too.”

“Oh… were you in a lot of pain?” you ask him, tenderly caressing his cheek.

He places his hand on yours, “No more than other times and in any case never as much as seeing you go away.” he replies “That… was almost unbearable.” the man confesses feeling a lump in his throat.

He always hid his feelings because feelings like love, hate, compassion were not necessary in battle, on the contrary. Sometimes these were just an impediment to fulfil his duty.

“It hurt me to know you were far away, but… it was better down there than here. Here… they destroyed everything, burned my house down, killed…” Marcus sighs, looking down and frowning at the memory of what he had to see and endure.

He, the great general honored and celebrated for the conquests he made for Rome, could not protect or save those who trusted him. He failed.

He himself was then tied up, beaten and forced to fight in the gladiatorial arena where every day he has to fight to the death and this is what has been happening for days, weeks now.. Marcus has lost count of the days now.

“Forgive me if I... if I didn't tell you things about myself, I..” you say in a whisper, changing the subject. Marcus places his hands on yours which are now gripping the bars “I didn't know if you accepted me, if..”

“It doesn’t matter, my love.” he tells you using that firm, but sweet tone of voice. “I love you.” he confesses to you under his breath as if he feared he was still dreaming and that you were not really there in that horrible place.

The strength of that feeling hits him like a punch in the stomach. He never allowed his most sincere and authentic feelings to come to the surface because he’s well aware of the strength of feelings and the power to make you weak and vulnerable in the eyes of others, but with you being himself has always been as easy as breathing. He never had to do or say anything different from his thoughts or will just to please you.

He can hear you holding your breath, he doesn't know exactly what the expression is on your face, but you're probably confused, confused at hearing him say those words he's never said to anyone before that moment.

“I love you too,” you coo caressing his rough cheek.

That moment would have been sweet, tender and romantic, if you hadn't heard the footsteps of your jailers again and their voices announcing, "It's time to go, there is no escape from the wrath of the Emperors and the power of Rome. Pray to the gods that they may receive your souls quickly.” then the soldiers open your cells and drag away, a few minutes apart, first Marcus and then you.

Marcus prays that you may at least be spared, but he doubts that those madmen are capable of feeling pity or mercy.

Your footsteps echo through those cold, dark walls. The chains on your wrists are heavy and force you to hold your arms together in front of you. When you see the light of dawn again you are almost dazzled, you try to bring your hands in front of your face, but you fail miserably.

“Keep moving!” one of them exclaims, almost pushing you forward. You look at him puzzled and the man next to you pushes you making you fall forward, the chains on your wrists making a loud crash against the floor, your knees hit the cold, rough floor. The pain is so much, but this time... there are no tears, you can't cry and it leaves you perplexed, why did you cry when you left Marcus? Why only in some circumstances? Oh, you wish you knew more, but it's too late now, you think.

“Get up!” the other almost shouts, pulling you up by the arm and clumsily putting you back on your feet. Your knees hurt a lot. You wish Marcus was right next to you, you're sure if he was he wouldn't have let those two touch you or hurt you.

You are led to a huge room full of black and white marbles, in the center there are two chairs on which sit two young men with blond hair, at their sides there are young women who serve and revere them for their every desire. You recognize Geta who is looking raptly at a young woman who is offering him food, you recognize that look...

“My emperors!” exclaim the two guards who led you there and stop with a start, making a strange noise with their shoes that reverberates throughout the room.

The two young men seem to notice you, “Oh, you brought her,” Geta says with a bored look, however a wicked smile appears on his face, “Thank you dear, you can go.” Geta says dismissing the girls who walk away carrying with them the cups of food and probably wine, then continues telling you “Well, my dear, as you well know the power of Rome cannot be challenged, ever. Under no circumstances whatsoever. Therefore, anyone who dares to challenge it openly or in a subtle manner,” he says with emphasis especially the last words “will be severely punished.” he pauses during which you focus your gaze on the other boy, on his face rounder than Geta's and unlike Geta, the latter's gaze is as if dreamy, “Oh, my dear,” Geta continues, “I’m so sorry you’re on the wrong side of history, the losers.” at that point the other smiles as if he were back among you in that room “If only you hadn’t chosen him,” he sighs, “you still have time, become my wife and I will make sure your mistake is forgotten.”

Is Geta really making you such a proposal? Deny Acacius, deny your feelings to save your life? Can a person really bend to such blackmail just to stay alive?

“So? What’s your choice?” he insists.

You shake your head in annoyance, “I can’t. I can’t bend to your will. I love him,” you admit out loud even in front of the emperors.

“Now things get interesting!” exclaims the second, smiling and settling himself more comfortably in his chair as if he were preparing to watch a show.

Geta looks genuinely surprised, yet that glimmer that has always shaken you to the core doesn’t leave him. In fact, his expression seems to darken somehow.

“And that’s why you supported his crazy plan? In the name of love?” he asks you.

You know what he's referring to, but you don't intend to answer him with a yes or a no because you know that either way your fortunes won't change. Instead, you evade the question by asking another, “What are you going to do now?”

It's the other blond guy who approaches you and you take a half step back, after what he did to Iulia years ago, you don't know what could happen to you too especially in these circumstances of imprisonment.

“Oh, forgive my brother Caracalla, he’s… fascinated by the way I spoke about you. We will talk about this later,” Geta states, approaching the man and placing a hand on his shoulder “I invite you to think about it once more, as you enjoy the games in our honor.”

You have no choice but to be escorted in chains to the Colosseum where the games are held. You didn't know what to expect, but seeing all that blood, hearing and seeing all those people cheering to see more blood, more violence was worse than anything you'd seen before. You want to run away, but a man is right behind you so you can do nothing but watch that bloody spectacle.

“This is my favorite moment,” Geta warns you as he gets up from his chair and announces the next game where gladiators fight each other until the emperors say enough.

Your gaze focuses on him, you don't know exactly what the rules of this game are, you just know that he’s there and he has to fight against hundreds of other gladiators. You do nothing but follow his movements, you hear the screams of those men, you see the blood staining the sand of the arena, you see him fight his guts out to survive. When the two emperors finally got bored of that gruesome spectacle, the men were almost half.

The doors to the arena open and that's when you hear the crowd chanting his name, Acacius. Your eyes rest in horror on the mighty figure of Marcus Acacius who makes his entrance into the arena, it’s at that moment that you turn towards Geta, “This happens to those who betray Rome. Even a General can become a gladiator at the mercy of what happens in the arena.” he tells you without taking his eyes off the arena “I would never want to send such a bud down there. Even if it's in bad shape.” he adds looking at your face this time.

Marcus looks terribly shaken and tired as you are led back to your cells, but unlike some hours ago, you now find yourself sharing that humid space. You hear him breathing heavily for several minutes, neither of you speaking for a while, the only noise in the background is the drops of water falling in a not too distant corner of the prison. You don't know exactly what to say to him after everything you've seen today and he... you can only imagine how he feels. You would like to comfort him, but you know that no words could give him even a shred of serenity.

He calls you in the darkness, his hand searches for yours and when he finds it he holds it tightly in his before kissing it. “You are the best thing that could ever happen to me in this life.” you feel his fingers brush your cheek before cupping it and bringing his lips to your forehead and then resting on your lips “I love you.” he whispers “We could have been happy,” you hear him sigh sadly “Forgive me, I was not able to protect you as I would have liked or hoped.”

Your eyes sting, timid tears run down your cheeks, they are tears of pain, of anger, of bitterness. At that moment your aunt's words about your ill-fated fate echo in your mind.

“I will deny any involvement of yours,” he tells you, “it must not end like this for you too.” he continues “My life has been marked by death and violence for many years now, but the same thing must not happen to you, my love. Tell them what they hope to hear about me, but at least save yourself.”

You shake your head even though you know it’s dark and he can’t see you, “No. He wanted me to be his, but that’s not possible because that place is yours alone.”

“No, my love, what have you done..?!” his warm voice leaks pain in knowing that you too will not come out unscathed from this whole ordeal.

“I need to tell you the truth… about me.” You say placing your hands at his collarbones “I.. I've always wanted to be part of your world and I've seen.. so, so many things. I'm not a human creature, I..”

“I know. I know. I saw you.” He interrupts you softly, placing his hands on either side of your face. “I know, my love.” for a while there is only silence, your heart beats fast in your chest with fear of being chased away and called a monster, “I love you.” he adds leaving you completely stunned and at the same time happy despite your situation.

You smile, as more tears wet your cheeks which he promptly wipes away, “There’s one more thing.. I.. I can never touch water again. For me it would be fatal.”

He gently kisses the tip of your nose, then one of your cheeks, then the other, then kisses your lips, then starts all over again. You smile despite everything, he smiles too.

“My sweet flower of the sea,” he says to you, “a creature like you should never have gotten dirty coming into this world.” he adds, resting his forehead against yours.

“If I hadn’t done that, you and I would never have met and I would never have been happy. It's better to die like this than to live unhappy and without you.”

“Oh.”

Marcus Acacius is speechless. For the first time he has no words to express how strong his emotion is in feeling your ardour and your confidence in expressing your thought. Marcus Acacius wanted to tell you that if he had known how it would end, he would not have wanted to drag you into that sad and horrible story. Marcus Acacius doesn't care who you are or where you come from, he just knows that now that you're in his life, your lives and destinies are and will forever be intertwined. No matter what happens. You love each other and this will never change despite your sad fate.

[coocoolahh]

My Starlight will Guide Me Home🌠💫

Summary: "Marcus Acacius is known as many things, but if you were to ask the man himself I'm sure that he would want nothing but to be known as the father to his beloved daughter who was born out of the love between him and his precious starlight. Historians have often debated over the identity of the mysterious starlight. Edward Gibbon once famously claimed in his magnum opus that Acacius' starlight was a vagabond princess from one of the Eastern kingdoms, but there is no concrete evidence to back his claim."

- Dr. C.C. Philip. 'The Roman Conquest of Numidia'.

A/N: No warning as such (not beta read). I have no idea what I just wrote but it was fun to do so. I hope that you guys will enjoy it as well🥰

r/historyloreNgossip 6 days ago

Eudoxes4lyf

Letters of General Marcus Acacius

I just finished reading R. Dike's "Epistles from the Past", which is basically a collection of translations of personal letters from various individuals across civilizations; I kid you not I sobbed and swooned so ugly when I read the part featuring the letters of Marcus Acacius (a 3rd century CE Roman general) to his daughter which were written when he was out on a military campaign to Numidia.

The man is so Girl Dad coded. That one letter where he is worried about her favourite dolly getting misplaced, while he is out there pillaging entire cities and colonizing the eastern frontiers in the name of Rome😭

Edit 2: I thought the person he is referring to as "starlight" was his wife Lucilla. Is there any extra info on the General's starlight?

Edit 2: I found a copy of Professor Philip's book in the college library. Thanks for the recommendation!

ptolemysiswife .5 days ago.

Omg yesss! The letters are so sweet. We had it on our reading list (it was a different book tho!) this semester and I kid you not I giggled like a school girl in love while reading the General's letters. Poor guy was missing his kid so much, you can't help but feel for him haha

SadguyRumi . 5 days ago.

Did you know that his daughter was born from a slave from the Orient and not his lawful wife?

ptolemysiswife .5 days ago.

Ah yes! The famous starlight. The way he describes her in the letters is so endearing. The man is outright simping for his starlight haha. It's so romantic😩🤌🏻

SadguyRumi . 4 days ago.

It's so funny that a hardened war general was down bad for the mother of his child.

BanksofVaranasi .4 days ago.

I think the OP will enjoy C.C. Philip's "The Dawn and Downfall of an Empire: A War General's Musings". It dives deep into the celebrated General's personal life, and even gives us some clues about his beloved starlight (I'm actively refraining from calling her a slave out of respect for the general who seemed to hate it when others referred to her and their daughter as such) which is backed by actual archaeological findings and not hearsay that other contemporary historians of the time would have us believe.

Hamurabishabibi .3 days ago.

This sounds so interesting. I'm a sucker for feel good stories from the ancient world. Can anyone please upload some of his letters or few wholesome excerpts? I tried looking for the books that OP and u/BanksofVaranasi mentioned but they cost a really pretty penny in my country (damn you conversion rate!)😀 I really wanna know about this starlight person as well😆😅

citethysources .2 days ago.

You're in luck cause some museum (I forgot which) recently uploaded a bunch of N. Maurice's translations of the General's letters (along with some other excerpts related to his life and times) under the section which they titled "Star Guided Letters to Home" on their website. You can check it out, they've curated all the letters in a nice chronological order

Hamurabishabibi .2 days ago.

omg the title!! I'm feeling violently sick ughhh! thanks a lot, I just found the museum's website and yes the section is curated so nicely. I think I'm in love with the web designer haha

Title: Star Guided Letters to Home: the letters of Marcus Acacius and other related documents from the 3rd century CE.

Translator: Dr. Nestor Maurice, MA, MPhil, PhD

Overview: The celebrated Roman general Marcus Acacius was once considered the darling of the Roman populi. Feared by the enemies of Rome, much of history knows him for his infamous exploits in the eastern frontiers of the Roman Empire, and for his brave defiance against the infamous co-emperors- Geta and Caracalla. The following letters were addressed by the general during his year long expedition to Numidia (in present day Algeria) to his only child and daughter Marcia (known fondly amongst the scholarly circles as "Marcia de la Stella"- Marcia of the Stars), and are a testament to a parent's love for their child, which transcends the temporal and spatial limitations imposed upon us by the natural flow of the Universe. Given the age of Marcia de la Stella at the time that these letters were penned, there is a high probability that they were read out to the child by her adopted mother Lucilla, the daughter of Emperor Marcus Aurelius and the legal wife of Marcus Acacius.

______________________________________________________________

Document 1

"The general had a surprisingly soft corner for his "slave" daughter, who was also his only known and acknowledged progeny. He could often be seen holding the wee babe in his arms within the confines of his domus.

It is rumoured that he had her manumitted in the early hours of her birth, and that there was an undertone of fear amongst the General's personal physicians that the otherwise healthy infant would inherit some of her slave mother's more peculiar cognitive functioning.

Nevertheless, it was evident to much of the Roman public that the child had the General wrapped around her tiny little finger; and anyone who dared to call her a bastard or a child of a slave would have to face the wrath of the otherwise austere and good-natured General"

- Cassius Dio, contemporary Roman historian

Letter 1: A Father's Prayer

"Marcus Acacius to his Moonbeam greetings. My dear moonbeam, a few moments ago I received a correspondence from fair lady Lucilla. She seemed worried that you haven't been keeping well. Oh how I wish I could be there for you my little duckling. But alas, your failure of a father must fulfil his duty to Rome first.

May our household gods inflict all your pain and suffering onto me! Give my salutations to lady Lucilla, and to my starlight. As always, my days are filled with your worry, and my nights are spent praying for you. Farewell, my moonbeam, may the stars and starlight guide this letter home to you."

Document 2

"Lucilla to her Attia greetings. Dearest friend, I received your invitation. I would be more than delighted to attend the wedding of your daughter Julia. I still cannot fathom the fact that little Julia is now ready to manage her own household. It saddens me to think that soon enough my little Marcia too shall come of age and become someone's bride. The child is the light in my otherwise dreary existence. Blessed be her sweet mother who brought her into this world!

I fear that my lord Marcus Acacius will be the most agitated when such a time shall come. But above all, I fear for the sake of the man who will come and ask for Marcia's hand in marriage. Give my greetings to your Julia. You shall see me and little Marcia soon. Farewell, my dearest and most longed for friend."

- Lucilla, wife of Marcus Acacius in a letter to her friend Attia dated 215 CE

Letter 2: Birthday

"Marcus Acacius to his Moonbeam greetings. My sweetheart, may you be showered with all the blessings that the world has to offer. Every year, on the day of your birth, I've taken the liberty to spoil you to my heart's content. Dearest, my good wishes are always upon you, but what has a father to offer to his dearest child from a battlefield?

Moonbeam, since the day that you were born to me and my starlight as our daughter, I've considered myself the luckiest man in all of Rome; but now, here in Numidia, I've started to appreciate the fact that I'm a daughter's father even more. May you never have to step foot in a battlefield, and may your dreams be decorated with happiness. Farewell, my dearest star child, may the stars and starlight guide this letter home to you."

Document 3

"Once at a party hosted by Senator Thraex, Lord [name erased due to erosion] made the mistake of mocking Marcus Acacius' paramour whom he decried as a whorish slave from the east.

Acacius in all his fury beat the unfortunate fool in unmitigated rage, and warned the onlookers that he wouldn't hesitate to do the same to anyone who dared to humiliate the mother of his child.

It was reported that the two co-Emperors, who were present at the gathering, had a good laugh over the misery of the man who had been the target of the general's wrath, and even offered the general to execute the "bumbling fool" as a gift to the general"

-Anonymous writer, 5th century AD

Letter 3: Dolly

"Marcus Acacius to his Moonbeam greetings. My precious star child, who is dear to the sight, but dearer still when the sight is denied, I was informed of your melancholy by dearest Lady Lucilla! I know just how precious the dolly was to you. My starlight had made it for you when you were smaller than a fig in her womb. I too, cannot help but lament the loss of your dolly. I wish I could be there to assuage your grief and mine.

Moonbeam, I promise to help you look for your dolly once I'm back there with you. The very thought of seeing you again fills my heart with joy in these difficult times. You are always in my prayers my dearest. Farewell, my sweet, may the stars and starlight guide this letter home to you"

Document 4

"Lucilla to her husband Marcus Acacius greetings. Dearest confidant and husband , you've always been considerate of me and my feelings since the day the late Emperor Septimius Severus had us betrothed. You've been respectful of my feelings for him, and I've always admired you greatly for that. As such, I was elated when you found your love in the form of [name erased due to erosion]. She brought such joy and light to you; and even bore you the most precious of daughters! Little Marcia has helped me get over my grief for my own dear Lucius, and watching her grow swells my heart with happiness and a sense of pride.

But dearest of friends, I must confide in you that the sweet child has been asking some very curious questions about her own identity, some of which I find myself unable to answer. If you could, please help her quench her curiosity. I pray for the safe passage of your campaign. Farewell, my husband and dearest of confidants.

- Lucilla, in a letter to Marcus Acacius dated 216 CE

Letter 4: Starlight

"Marcus Acacius to his Moonbeam greetings. My little Marcia, your poor father is troubled! I don't know how to begin this letter. I can start by describing the auspicious moment when I met my starlight or maybe I should start by describing her. Your mother, my starlight, hailed from a land somewhere in the far East of Rome. Her people called her [name erased due to erosion] but she was known in Rome as Macrina, for she worked in the household of Macrinus. You may know him as the man with the colouring of dawn who once came over, accompanied by his two adopted daughters, to offer you sweets. But you are too young to remember all that.

My starlight would sometimes play the lute at parties organised by Macrinus. She was so good at playing her instrument that you could swear that she had been blessed by the very gods of music. My starlight had a penchant for singing in her native tongue, but she would only so in private, and oh! how blessed was I to have been privy to her mellifluous voice. She would then try to translate them for me using her adorably weak command over the language that you and I are now conversing in. I'll tell you more about my starlight when I get back home to you. For now, I'm writing down a line from a song which my starlight once sung for me.

There’s a desire, there’s a prayer

Both of them have touched the soul of love

Read it from the left or from the right

From the earth till the sky, only love is written

My little cup of honey, you remind me of my starlight so much! Farewell, my Moonbeam, may the stars and starlight guide this letter home to you"

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Footnote: Hoii! I had so much fun writing this aiyaaaa! (totally not due on finishing my assignments and finishing my own reading list hahahah). I think the fic is pretty open ended (is it though?). I also chose the Orient cause it truly is a microcosm of the entire world (you get all shapes, colours and almost all race combinations)!! So the reader can customise the appearance of our dear starlight as per their likes and preferences. The orient part could also be my bias speaking cause I'm an aspiring historian whose field of interest lies in countries of the "Orient" (I'm also using the term Orient very veryyy loosely here). I took a lot of inspiration from various historical sources and epistles, so if you come across some of them then do tell!

Anyways, I hope that you guys will enjoy the fic as much as I did writing it huh (It's my first time writing one so I'm sorry if it comes across as cringe)!! Do tell if I should continue this and make it into a series hehe and sorry for any mistakes that I make in advance😽

Do like, repost and comment!! I love those hehe

That one line is from this song at the 2:35 minute mark

[burnwater13]

Grogu and Din Djarin sitting on a pile of marble planks. They are both surrounded by the pieces of the Mandalorian's clothing and armor, while Grogu had activated the flame thrower on the Mandalorian's right vambrace. Photo by me. Figures by Hot Toys.

Note: Part 3 of Grogu in Rome.

Story concept suggested by @porgsandpops

Who in the heck was Justus Marcus Acacius? Why did his dad think he was that guy? Din Djarin wasn’t a person for watching vids, whether they were historical reenactments or plain fiction. He watched Diggle and Daggle, the Fish that fish, purely because Grogu watched it and even if he didn’t like fishing itself, he liked the show. The two hosts were funny. They were informative. They traveled the galaxy just like a certain Mandalorian bounty hunter. 

Now… well, now Grogu was going to have to keep a sharp eye on the human who had diligently searched through the abandoned armor until he found Din Djarin’s favorite knife and began to gut, skin, and fillet the collection of fish they had in order to cook them. At least he had covered himself with the Mandalorian’s cape/blanket. No point in having him catch cold along with having whatever sort of delirium he was currently in the clutches of. 

“I wish I had some spices with me. Even some salt would be welcome. Fish taste better when prepared with a few, gentle flavorings. I do not suppose that is something you have in your bag of tricks, Jedi?”

Din Djarin spoke in a very different voice than the one his dad used. It was commanding, but not loud. It was decisive, but not smug. This version of his dad would never say something like ‘I like those odds’ or ‘I can bring you in cold’. Weird.

Grogu shook his head. The only thing his real dad used to flavor food was Mandalorian hot sauce, the hotter the better. Grogu knew they didn’t have any in the Razor Crest because his dad had complained about it when they were in hyper space and he was making up a ration pack. 

Grogu’s stomach growled loudly. Oops. He’d forgotten how hungry he was. He hoped Justus Marcus Acacius liked to share because Grogu didn’t really want to have to go out and catch another batch of fish to cook. 

“You Mandalorians get hungry? I suppose even a god must enjoy the creatures they bring into creation. You may have the pick of these fish, Grogu Jedi of the Mandalorians. I would not wish to treat you as anything other than a good and treasured friend.”

“Thanks.”

Grogu didn’t know what else to say. He was completely thrown off by how this person who looked just exactly like his dad was acting exactly not like his dad. Din Djarin knew his name was Grogu. He’d said about a thousand times when he first learned it from Ahsoka Tano, but he rarely called Grogu by it. Usually he called him ‘Buddy’ or ‘Kid’. This Justus Marcus Acacius guy was using his proper name and ‘Jedi’ and ‘Mandalorian’ like they were part of his name. It must be some sort of local custom, which reminded Grogu that he still didn’t know where they had landed. As long as his dad thought he was this other guy, maybe he knew which planet they were actually on.

“Question?”

Grogu hoped he’d gotten that word right. He usually communicated with his dad in sign language.

“Of course my friend, any question you have I will answer if I am able.”

Good.

“Planet?”

Grogu wanted to keep to simple questions because he didn’t want his lack of skills with Gal Basic to impede the answers he got back.

“Planet? Oh, which planet are you on? I suppose that is a good question for a god. You must travel to so many. We honor this world by calling it Terra Mater. It is our mother, giving life and sustenance to us all. What planet did you leave to honor us with your presence here?”

Justus Marcus Acacius smiled at Grogu as he asked the question but Grogu felt that same feeling he got when Din Djarin was interrogating a person who might know where their next bounty was hiding. He wondered what this man did that he cared about where Grogu had come from, more than about his ability to use the Force. 

“Coruscant. Capital. Birthplace.”

Grogu gave him the barest facts and wondered what he would do with them. 

His companion’s smile softened. 

“I was worried that you might say you were from Tartarus. It is not a good place. It is a place of judgment and punishment.”

Grogu decided to just nod at that information. Tartarus sounded more like Mandalore to him and he didn’t want to suddenly find that his dad was back again and miffed about the implied insult. 

“What you?”

Grogu asked the question just as not Din Djarin took a bite out of one the cooked fishes and handed him one of his own.

Justus Marcus Acacius chewed his mouthful of fish thoroughly, swallowed, took another bite, did the same, and another until the fish was gone, but for the bones. Then he answered Grogu’s blunt question.

“I was once commander of the legions of Rome. The emperors I served were cruel and foolish. They cared not for life. I was condemned for planning to raise an army against them. I should, my friend, have died. I was hit by many arrows. I remember falling to the ground of the arena and drawing my last breath. Then… something happened. Somehow I found myself here again. That river that provided these fish. It is called the Tiber. Based on what I see around us we are north west of the great city I called home for many years. There is a story, told around campfires, that when the gods love a person who has died, they can pull them out of the Tiber and give them their life back. I thought it was just a story until I found myself soaking wet on the ground surrounded by fish and you looking upon with great concern. Another truth I will never deny.”

Huh? So was Din Djarin really Justus Marcus Acacius all the time Grogu had known him? He just didn’t know who he was? But how the heck had he gotten to Arvala-7? Or anywhere else? How did he learn Mandoa or Huttese or his really bad Jawa? Where did he get the armor? Not the new shiny stuff. The old brown stuff that the mudhorn had destroyed? Did the Armorer do all that? And where the heck was Terra? In the Wild Spaces? Grogu had never seen it on a star chart and his dad, or whoever it was, had made sure he studied those charts like there was going to be a test that he couldn’t fail.

Just what the heck was going on?!

A map of Ancient Rome, depicts various sites of significance and the location of the Tiber River. Map published by Anness Publishing.

Note: This story was inspired by a suggestion from @porgsandpops. Hope you enjoy it.

Grogu had been sound asleep when the Razor Crest landed. Well, if you call something of sharp thump, a slide, and a crashing sound a landing. He had called it unfair, but that was mostly due to the fact that he had landed on the floor of cabin with a thump of his own. Now his head hurt. Normally his dad didn’t just crash the ship if he could possibly avoid it, so something bigger must have happened and the Mandalorian hadn’t thought to wake him up for it. Meany. 

Once he was on his feet, Grogu crossed the lower deck as quickly as he could and made his way up the ladder to the bridge. Fortunately his dad seemed to be all in one piece, but it was clear from the crack in the Razor Crest’s canopy that it wasn’t. It was also clear that wherever the ship had ‘landed’, it wasn’t Nevarro or Tatooine, or any planet Grogu had ever been on before. Weird.

Grogu touched his dad to make sure that he didn’t need any healing and was happy to find that Din Djarin was just cross. Annoyed. Angry even. And, a bit puzzled. He probably didn’t recognize where they were either. At least that made two of them. 

“Hey, Buddy, sorry about the hard landing. It seems like we passed through an anomaly in hyperspace and got dumped out like yesterday’s yard waste. Are you okay?”

Grogu nodded his head as he watched his dad take off his helmet, look it over, and then put it back on again. What the heck? Was Din Djarin okay? Grogu didn’t think so, but when he touched the bounty hunter’s hand, his body didn’t seem to be hurt at all. Should he touch it again and check on his brain? That seemed wasteful. In human’s the brain was part of the body. If one was fine, the other was fine, right?

“Come on. You can help me check out the ship and make sure that cracked canopy is the only major repair we’ll have to make.”

Grogu nodded his head again as his dad left the bridge and slid down the ladder to the lower deck. What the heck! Why not just run a quick diagnostic from the bridge and then verify it’s output? Mandalorians didn’t usually waste time like this. But then this wasn’t normal and Grogu decided, for the sake of expediency, to just go along with his dad. It was almost as if Din Djarin had forgotten that he was a Mandalorian. 

A few minutes later and they had completed a traverse of the ship. The canopy being cracked was the one big problem they found. Now they needed to find a solution to it. The tools that the Mandalorian might normally use to fuse the crystalline structure back in place were damaged. The tools that he needed to fix those tools were back on Tatooine in Peli’s repair bay. Uff.

“Come on. Let’s see if there are any villages or towns near by. They must have a smith or a trading post or something around here.”

Grogu wondered why his dad didn’t just use the scanners built into his helmet to collect that data. Din Djarin must have taken a pretty good bump to his head and it affected his memory. Or something like that. It was weird. 

Rather than explain how to use the scanners to his dad, the Mandalorian bounty hunter sworn to the Creed, who’d been using the silly things most of his life, Grogu lifted his left hand and reached out to the Force. 

Womp! 

What the heck!

There was a lot of life on this planet and it was everywhere, all around them. The Force had knocked Grogu on his butt with just a little bit of ‘hey, what’s going on’ as its impetus for action. That was very weird. 

Grogu lifted his hand again and used his softest internal voice to ask ‘what’s the deal here’ and found himself surrounded by more information than he’d ever encountered anywhere. Even the Jedi Library on Coruscant didn’t have this much information! Wow. 

Grogu took a deep breath and let the information continue to flow to him until he just had to stop it because two things were happening over which he had no control. First, he realized that he desperately needed to use the privy. Then he noticed that his dad was just walking away from him, going down a path with his helmet tucked under his arm. Under his arm! Dank Farrik!

Grogu trotted after Din Djarin and tried to keep an eye out for a good sheltered place where he could do what he needed to do without losing sight of his dad. Something on this strange planet had affected them both and he really didn’t want to be separated from the Mandalorian. What if he forgot he was Grogu’s dad? What if he forgot that they were supposed to be on their way to Naboo? What if he forgot that going through ‘Cin Vhetin’ hadn’t been all it was cracked up to be? Din Djarin still couldn’t swim and Grogu didn’t think the mythosaur in the waters of Mandalore was going to be as sympathetic the second time around. The best Grogu could hope for was that they could fix the canopy and get back where they belonged, sooner, rather than later.

He pushed those thoughts aside as he watched his dad drop his helmet on the ground and begin to strip off the rest of his armor. It wasn’t hot out. It wasn’t actually cold out either. It was just pleasant. Why the heck was his dad doing this? Grogu trotted up to the helmet and collected it as he called to the Mandalorian. Din Djarin didn’t even look back at him. He just kept walking. And stripping.  Now his second layer was on the ground next to his boots and Grogu suddenly noticed what his dad could see, but he couldn’t. 

A river!

Oh, no! Why did this have to be the day that Din Djarin decided to go for a swim!

To be continued...