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kabuki-writes · 3 months ago

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A Reflection Of Venus

chapter: 1 chapter 2 | 3 | 4

pairing: emperor geta/emperor caracalla x acacius' daughter!reader

summary: For years Acacius was able to keep his precious and only daughter away from the Emperor's eyes. But after his latest victory, he couldn't evade the already inevitable.

Note: Reader is the daughter of General Acacius and his wife, which is not Lucilla in this fanfiction.

word count: 3.1k

General Acacius was a hero for the Roman Empire, a sun that was burning brighter with every new victory he won in a new war campaign ordered by Emperor Geta and his twin brother Emperor Caracalla. The reign of the twins was nothing compared to one of their deceased father Emperor Septimius Severus, who was once one of the closest friends and brother-in-arms of Acatius. While Severus fought wars mainly to protect the borders of the already massive Empire, his sons' hunger for expansion became clear from the very first day they inherited the title "Emperor". And general Acacius became their tool in this project. Nothing was too expensive, they backed him with legions, war-ships, the best equipment and supply, and the capable general became an unstoppable force, a soldier of the God Mars himself. But at what cost?

As the years went on, he'd rarely been home, always travelling with his marching soldiers and being on the front line of every battle he fought. And when he came back, he felt sick from all the pomp and gold the Emperor's threw at him, the victory processions through Rome, while the smell of blood still lingered in his nose and the cries of the women and children echoed in his mind. It was one of those days. The sun stood high over the wide street that lead to the Palatin, the sides filled with the cheering crowd - common people, soldiers, slaves, senators, merchants, they all celebrated his victory in a triumphant procession. His marching soldiers were led by Acacius chariot, clothed in the white armor of a victor. His face could've been one to be carved in marble, stoic and upright, facing the great Palatin, where the Emperors would await him.

Geta and Caracalla - the twin-sons of Septimius Severus, Emperors of Rome. They stoof there in golden Armor like sun gods with their golden crowns on top of their short gingerblonde hair. Their unusual pale skin was a testament to their wealth as they could afford to stay out of the sun, which burns especially hot on summer days like this one, and of course on the battlefields in Africa, where Acatius' men had to fight against the rebellious Nubians. They awaited their victor with proud smiles on their lips, while Acacius' procession ended at the footsteps of the Emperor's palace. He walked the marble steps towards them, his long cloak moved in tact with his walk. He didn't look forward to see the faces of Rome's tyrants again, but they hadno idea.

Instead, he greeted them as he was used to. His hand on his chest, speaking the words.

"I greet you, my Emperors. Nubia is no more. I present a new victory to you, to the realm and to the Roman people."

With a proud look on their faces and a wide smile, the twins stepped forward. Emperor Geta hold the laurel wreath of victory in his hands and places it on top of Acacius' greying hair.

"And Rome rewards it's heroes with gratitude and admiration. We bow to your victories, General Acacius."

With those words, he offered him to turn around and face the celebrating crowd. Geta and Caracalla took their places at his side, giving him a moment of spotlight, applauded by the people, while they did benefit from it as well. Acatius was their general, their armored knight. Every victory he presented was another triumph for their own reign and power. After the earned celebration in front of the common folk, the Emperors and Acacius retreated inside, where servants quickly served them wine for a toast.

"Another great victory, you never disappoint us, dear Acatius," Geta expressed and hold his glass up for a toast, his brother Caracalla following the gesture. "To the glory of the Roman Empire".

"To the glory of your reign", Acacius lied and took a sip from his glass, trying to numb himself a bit with the taste of the alcohol. How he hated conversations with both of them.

" But don't get too comfy here, my brother and i were already discussing another campaign soon. You'll get everything you need, just tell us how many soldiers and ships and it will be granted," Geta explained, which left a bitter taste in Acacius mouth. His jaw clenched for a moment, while he tried everything not to show his distaste about another war campaign.

"Please forgive me, my Emperor, but isn't the realm big enough already? Rome has already difficulties to feed the people. Further expansion would-"

"They can eat war", Emperor Caracalla threw in with an almost diabotical grin, while Acacius got a warning eye from Geta. It was clear that his words weren't the ones both wanted to hear right now.

"Don't worry about things like that, Acacius. You're a military general, your job is to win battles - nothing more. Do you understand?"

"I understand," he answered, even though he hated to hear that he was reduced to this. He'd experienced war and peace alike and therefore he knew about the dangers of continuing this madness. Moments like this really let him question if those maniacs were of the same blood as Septimius Severus.

"But you're right, you've earned yourself at least a bit of rest - one or two weeks. Don't worry, we've taken care about the wellbeing of your family. They got everything they needed and more in our attempt to show our gratitude for your service to the throne. Speaking of which.... we expect you to join us for a great feast tonight - here in the palace. A party to celebrate your victory, it is accompanied by a couple of fights in the arena tomorrow," Geta explained joyfully, while Acatius tried to keep his mask up.

"I am incredibly honored, but would prefer to spend time with family after being away for such a long time."

"The Emperors show you their gratitude and you're insulting us. We expect you to come and you will come", Caracalla hissed with a sudden shift of tone, his eyes staring at Acacius in clear anger, while his brother placed his hand on his shoulder in an attempt to calm him down. But his staring eyes were warning Acatius once again.

"Of course, we don't just invite you, but your whole family. Bring your wife and... you have a daughter, if i'm not mistaken? We haven't had the pleasure of getting to know her yet, since you never brought her to any festivities. I am sure she will be delighted, if you don't plan on hiding her again."

Acacius stood there in silence, a reaction that made Caracalla burst out into laughter as if he'd just heard the funniest joke from his brother. The respected general didn't even look at him, why should he. Standing here in front of them should've been an honor, yet it felt like a disgrace. They were nothing but spoiled kids with the power of an empire in their hands. And now they even forced him to reveal his dear daughter to them. Something he tried to avoid for too long, knowing fully well about the debauchery and excessiveness of Geta and Caracalla.

"We're waiting for an answer, Acacius?", Caracalla purred with a wide grin on his pale face, revealing his gold tooth.

"It will be an honor to be your guest... together with my daughter."

_____________________________________________

You watched the face of your father sunken away in his thoughts, as you made made your way to the palace in a palanquin carried by a couple of slaves and protected by soldiers. The city was painted in darkness which made the palace seem like a temple with all the lights that welcomed you. It was an exciting moment for an upper-class lady to be a guest at the palace, especially for you, a woman that usually stayed away from the most parties. Not because you wanted to, but because it was an order from your father. You obeyed, yet it bothered you, even more when you'd reached the age of a young woman - the age in which it was expected from you to find a proper husband.

"Why are you so worried, father?", you finally managed to get off your lips, pulling Acacius out of the battle he fought in his head. He couldn't just tell you that he despised all of this and especially the Emperors himself as he couldn't be sure if someone outside this palanquin could hear him. So he simply took your hand and placed a soft and caring kiss on the ring that had been a present for your last name day.

"I guess I'm rather tired than worried. The parties in the palace are always quite excessive, music, dances, feasts... i just came back from the desert and now i have to enjoy all those things", he sighed and looked at you. "And i don't want to stay too long, especially not till the orgy starts. The servants will come and bring us home before that." And even you knew he would rather go and murder Dyonisos himself than allowing his daughter to stay and witness this.

All those words and yet you knew it wasn't everything.

"I'm glad that you take me with you this time. I've only known the imperial palace from afar," you confessed, while you straightened the long, blue dress you wore. It was decorated with all sorts of silver embroidery and jewelry, encapturing the stars and moon. Your long hair was styled by your servant Yanna into a high braid and finalized with a silver diadem. For the first time you really got the chance to make yourself so presentable that you almost felt like a princess. In the end, you were about to meet the Emperors which made it important to look like the woman you were - the daughter of a general. And you also presented his household tonight, because your mother felt sick tonight. She often suffered from migraine, which kept her a prisoner for days sometimes.

"You really look beautiful", your father said to you, it was honest, but there was a hint of worry in his eyes, which you still couldn't grasp. But there was no chance to take this conversation further as the palanquin stopped. Acacius got out first to help you out. He knew the way as it wasn't the first time for him to attent an official ceremony or party here. Through a long corridor you reached a large room with with an open access to the garden terrace facing the beautiful gardens. It was packed with people from the Roman upper-class, wealthy merchants, politicians and military officers, who were accompanied by their wives, sons and daughters. While they chatted and feasted on the large selection of delicious looking food, a group of musicians played their melodies to which professional dancers moved their bodies.

All those private parties at the homes of your friends seemed to vanish straight from your mind, nothing could be compared to what you were seeing now. It nearly took your breath away, while two royals were watching you from the other side of the room.

_____________________________________________

Geta and Caracalla were sitting on a higher ground, which was highly decorated with two golden chaise longues, cushions and velvet drapes. They were accompanied by a selected group of slaves, women and men, who were assigned to bring them anything they wanted, to do anything they wanted.

While Geta was in in a conversation with one of the senators, which clearly bored him according to his facial expressions, it was Caracalla, who noticed the new guest first, while he fed his little monkey Dondus a grape.

"Such a shame that he hid his daughter for so long. She is a gorgeous looking bird, don't you think? ", he whispered to his brother with a mischievous grin, patting his arm so that he would turn his attention to Acacius and you. Geta's eyes quickly went to you, admiring the way your dress hugged the shape of your curves.

"The gods must've sent us Venus herself to honor us with her presence," Geta answered, while an unreadable smile played on his lips. „No wonder our dear General is so protective of her. Is she already promised to someone?“

„Why do you ask me!?“ Caracalla snapped back, as if his brother didn’t know that he had a lot of spies around the city, who delivered him the newest gossip from the streets of Rome. With an annoyed eye roll, he leaned forward, adjusting the golden laurel wreath on his head. „No, she is a blank parchment. Probably untouched too.“

Geta still watched you with an intense interest as if you were a rare diamond, he needed to claim. But he was not the only one in this room, because Caracalla stared at his brother, noticing the way he looked at you. There it was again, the old melody. Whenever he wanted something, Geta wanted it too. They already shared the title of Emperors, their wealth, their whores… It was already something that cooked in him for a long time. But now he had an eye on you and wasn't happy about the fact that Geta might try to get you too.

Before he could even bring this thought to an end, his twin brother Geta already stood up from his chaise lounge and made his way through the crowd, the direction was clear. Caracalla's nose twitched in a mixture of nervousness and anger, and he got up quickly as well, not as gracefully as he wanted to, but he didn’t care. He had to tame the inner urge to backstab his brother before he could even reach you.

_____________________________________________

You still stood at the side of your father sipping on your first goblet of fine wine, while your eyes went over all the different guests and the excessive decor. Your father was sunken in a conversation with another general, Marcus Galbanus, an old friend and brother-in-arms of Acacius. But their conversation quickly stopped as soon as the Emperors approached them. Both your father and Marcus Galbanus lowered their heads and greeted them according to the etiquette, while you curtsied deep. This was the very first time you got the chance to meet the Emperor's of Rome Caracalla and Geta. And given the importance of those two figures, you even felt a little nervous.

"We almost feared you wouldn't show up to your own party, Acacius. But we're happy you made your way here... we already heard that your dear wife lays sick. Please, send her our best wishes. Nonetheless we would be delighted if you could introduce us to your company tonight", Geta demanded in a playful tone, knowing how much Acacius had tried to delay this. Caracalla stood at his side, his staring blue eyes drilled themselves into your appearence. Even though he was a man that had tasted a lot of men and women, one even more sensual than the other, your whole appearence, your face, your lips, your smile, everything - you reached a sentience in his mind that could only be gifted by the gods. The mere thought of having you infected his brain like a curse.

You could sense the tension that raised in your father as if everything in him resisted the situation. Yet he placed his hand softly on your shoulder and did as they wished. "This is my daughter, y/n..."

"I'm honoured to meet the Emperors of Rome", you said in a soft voice, earning you an appreciating smile by Geta and an unreadable grin of Caracalla.

"Oh the pleasure is on our side, my dearest. How do you like this Ceremony in honor of your father's victories?", Geta asked. But before you could even answer, his brother added, while he took another sip of his wine "Your father is a Roman hero through and through, isn't it right Acacius?" His tone had something else in it, almost as if it was some kind of mistrust. But you needed to ignore the irritation you felt and simply nodded.

"It is breathtaking. I've never witnessed something like this and it makes me incredible proud to see the gratitute he earned himself through the love he has for Rome and its people," you answered, trying to remind the Emperor's of Acacius loyality, which was undoubtful.

"Then you'll enjoy the ceremony in the arena tomorrow as well, i'm sure. Please, we invite your father and you to be our guests."

"I don't think that such entertainment is suited for a young woman of her status," your father suddenly interfered in a calm yet set tone, only earning the laugh of Caracalla. "Let your daughter decide for herself, General."

The atmosphere shifted to an unspoken intensity. You could sense your father's worries and given all what you've heard from the colosseum, you didn't really think of it as something worth to witness. Seeing people die in such a terrible way only for the pleasures of the masses seemed like a farce. Acacius always called it the most needless form of brutality amongst humans, he despised this himself and therefore avoided going into the arena whenever he could. But you also read the eyes of Geta and his brother, who waited for your answer and would not accept a simple 'No'.

"It would be an honour," you answered, and Geta leaned forward a bit, which made your father's jaw clench in anger. Not because of your answer, he was aware that a choice was not existing, when facing an Emperor, but because the way the twins looked at you as if you were a price they could simply claim. But you were a smart girl and definitely not naive, so he fully relied on that.

"So this is a 'Yes'?", Geta asked again and you looked him straight in the eyes, not backing off. "Yes."

"Excellent!", Caracalla shouted and clapped into his hands. "We'll have a lot of fun tomorrow."

The corners of Geta's mouth twitched to a smile and he nodded in response to his twin. Yet he hid his displeasure of having him as a rival in this little game. It was clear that Caracalla had layed his eyes on you too, but he won't allow him to simply take and fuck you like you were a common whore. Maybe you could've potential for something more and strenghten his position as well as his popularity. Because both Emperors were still unmarried - and it was expected from them that this would change sooner or later.

#gladiator 2 #gladiator ii #emperor caracalla #emperor geta #general acacius #geta x reader #caracalla x reader #joseph quinn #pedro pascal #fred hechinger #gladiator ii imagine #kabuki writes

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megalony · 2 months ago

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Maimed My Wife

This is a new Emperor Geta imagine that turned out rather long. I'm very happy with this one and I hope you will all like it.

Please tell me what you think.

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Summary: Geta is very protective of his wife. And when a General in the palace attacks her, he sees to it personally that said General will no longer be a threat.

Enjoy.

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A deep warmth spread through (Y/n) and her mouth curved into a tender grin when a familiar pair of lips attached themselves to the side of her neck. Silently, she inclined her head to the left, allowing more access while she tried to keep her focus on the book in her hands.

Her fingers skimmed across the corner of each page, an action she had done for long enough that the corners were starting to crinkle as if they had been dampened with water. Each page was still pristine and crisp, but there was a small, noticable mark of wear and tear in the corners and the remnants of ink smudged across the side of the pages when each one had been turned.

The words began to blurr on the page the longer (Y/n) felt Geta's administrations on her neck continue. Added with the movement of his hands which were fiddling with the fabric of her dress and the belt around her waist, he was making it very hard to concentrate.

Geta's arms were encircled around (Y/n)'s waist as if he were caging her in his embrace, not that she ever wanted to leave.

It wasn't often that they could scrape moments together like this without having some kind of audience or interruption. Being here, just the two of them with no guards or family or servants hovering nearby, it was heavenly. It was a sense of serenity.

(Y/n) re-read the same two lines for what felt like the tenth time until they finally seemed to sink in and she could focus on reaching the bottom of the page. But when Geta's teeth sank down against her lower neck near her shoulder, she was sure he was trying to leave a visible mark. A signal that she was his, she was taken. As if no one already knew who she belonged to.

The book started to tap against her knees that were drawn up so her feet could press down into the sofa and steady herself. The words weren't making sense anymore, she wasn't really paying attention.

(Y/n) hadn't been in the library long before Geta wandered in, knowing this was exactly where his wife would be. As soon as he sat down with her, (Y/n) knew her book would end up being forgotten and would have to be finished another day. Even as Geta murmured into her hair that he just wanted to sit with her as he had a moment to spare, and the promises he uttered into her skin that he wouldn't be a distraction. (Y/n) knew he would be.

Her chest leaned further back into Geta's chest until she was reclined against him and her head fell back against his shoulder. He was sat slightly slouched down into the sofa while (Y/n) was sat sideways so she could be tucked into Geta's arm. It didn't take long for him to twist and curve both arms around her and attach to her like he had been apart from her for days, not hours.

"You're making this difficult." (Y/n) murmured with a sly smile, already residing to the fact that she was giving up with reading for today.

"Hm, I can tell."

Her hand draped across the sofa, fumbling about to try and find the speckled feather she had been using as a bookmark for quite some time now. Once it was slotted safely in place between the pages, (Y/n) leaned forward to set her book down on the other end of the sofa.

The library was (Y/n)'s sense of peace. She had been thrilled when she moved into the palace after marrying Geta and he showed her the library. He had quickly realised that if he couldn't find his wife anywhere, this was where she would be hiding. Buried in the books the library provided, catching up on her Latin and Greek and delving into the mythical stories each book provided.

Geta understood her love of books, even if he didn't read half as many books as her. He had been tutored well. He and Caracalla had been taught to read and write since the moment they could stand on their own two feet. Emperors had to be well-schooled and be given rich educations. Geta wanted the same for his children, even if he wouldn't go about it as strictly as his parents had. And he had promised himself never to treat his children the way his father had treated him and his twin.

He began to feather his fingers up and down (Y/n)'s waist, grinning into her neck at the way she squirmed against him and moved her hands down to clasp over his wrists now that she wasn't holding her book.

When Geta lifted his head, (Y/n) turned and angled her head up so she could peck his cheek.

She took the chance to admire his pale features, amplified with a lacquer of paint to make his features more ghostly and frightening. On anyone else, (Y/n) was sure looking so pale and deathly would look a horrid sight, but on her husband it was enchanting and regal.

One hand reached up to brush a stray strand of bright orange hair away from his dark eyes that fell closed as he leaned into her touch and nudged his nose against her wrist.

Moments alone like these were few and hard to grasp, Geta liked to bask in them for as long as possible before they morphied into something else or became broken by interruptions.

He continued to glide his fingertips along her waist, drawing patterns into the pure white dress that crinkled and ruffled along her thighs and over her bent knees. He liked how her dress contrasted to the golden clothes he was wearing beneath the cold golden armour over the top. When being seen out in public, Geta was used to wearing his armour. It was for spectators as well as his own protection. They never knew what people were lurking around each corner.

While Geta had his eyes closed, (Y/n) took the opportunity to turn around so her back was no longer against his chest. She moved round so she was knelt up beside his thigh, now able to loop her arms around the back of his neck and lean her chest flush against his.

Her touch was surprising but very welcome and Geta's hands moved to cup her hips, digging his fingers into her flesh as he leaned further back and tilted his head so he was gazing up at his wife. His own Goddess.

The word "Beautiful," passed his lips as he gazed at her in splendor before he leaned forward to capture her in a kiss. The touch was soft and warm and loving and (Y/n) gasped into his mouth when she felt his teeth bite down on her lower lip.

(Y/n) began to stroke her thumb up and down the back of Geta's neck, brushing against the short hairs and tangling her finger in his longer locks at the back of his head. When she tightened her grip it earned a quiet growl to rumble from deep within Geta's chest. And she felt his hands tighten on her hips in retaliation and he scrunched her dress up between his fingers, just starting to pull up the material as if his intentions were to bunch her dress high around her hips.

She was sure that was what his intention was and she leaned further against his chest to try and deter him. Anyone could walk in. People didn't tend to knock on lounge or library doors the same as they would if the Emperor and Empress were in their personal chambers.

(Y/n) would hate to be caught by anyone if she and Geta were in a compromising position. She knew her husband wouldn't bat an eyelid, but she would.

When she tugged on his hair again and tilted his head back without breaking their kiss, (Y/n) felt his hands give a sharp pull on her hips. He was about to pull her onto his lap and (Y/n) would have obliged, if the wooden doors to the library didn't creak and groan as they opened.

Their lips quickly broke apart and (Y/n) glanced over her left shoulder while Geta let his head drop back against the sofa while he casually looked towards the doors.

A smile instantly formed on his lips and his fingers dug into (Y/n)'s hips, pulling her back down against his chest again when they both saw that it wasn't a guard or a servant requesting something from them.

It was Caracalla, with his niece in his arms.

Caracalla's hair looked rather disshevelled as if he had woken up from a hundred year nap, but he had a bright smile on his features and his head inclined to one side as he waltzed into the library.

He jostled his niece who was perched high on his chest with her little arms draped around the back of his neck and her head nuzzled up against his cheek.

There weren't many people in the palace that Geta would trust with his child. The nursemaid who had been employed with them since the princess's birth, the two guards who were to watch over the princess without fail, wherever she went. And his brother.

When the princess was with her parents or her uncle, no guards needed to constantly have her within their sights. They could walk a few paces back or wait outside the room rather than stand inside and observe.

"Oh, and what are you doing?"

Geta chose to ignore his brother's words and the smile that broadened on his features because they both knew what the couple had been doing.

As the large oak doors closed behind him, Caracalla walked further into the library, looking around the grand room he hardly ever came into anymore. He didn't find books fascinating, his attention span was short these days and with his changing moods, curtesy of his illness, the mood to sit peacefully and engage in a book never came about. He was either much too frivilous or much too riled to read.

But he knew his sister in law was quite often found in here and sometimes this was where he had to come in order to find his niece. Caracalla was immensely fond of her. He was childlike at heart and found he could entertain the little girl and enjoy spending time with her rather than most of the people who frequented the palace.

"She can walk, brother." Geta dropped one hand from (Y/n)'s hip so he could motion his hand towards his daughter.

His daughter had recently learned to walk and it made her much more of a trickster. Geta was forever finding her sliding the rings off his fingers and running off with them, clearly wanting him to play her game and chase her for the jewels.

And now that she could walk, it meant the princess would run into meetings and abscond around the palace with her maid right behind her, unable to stop her from trying to explore and find her parents. Geta never declined when his daughter found her way to the meetings and he would sit her on his lap and let her play with the jewellery hanging around his neck or the rings cladding his fingers while the Senates talked state business. Her presence was calming.

"Where's the fun in that?" Caracalla countered with pursed lips and a huff that ended with him kissing his niece's cheek.

He knew she could walk, she had ran right up to him this morning, clearly wanting him rather than her nursemaid and Caracalla obliged. He dismissed the maid immediately and took to wandering around the palace with the little princess by his side and then in his arms. He loved carrying her around. Why walk when she could be carried like the princess she was?

But he seemed to relent when she started to wriggle and he set her down to her feet so she could toddle across the dark purple and crimson rug with her arms outstretched towards her parents.

(Y/n) slowly turned back around and slumped back down on the sofa so she was sitting beside Geta rather than kneeling up against him. Her lips curved into a grin and her hands draped over Geta's shoulders when he leaned forward to reach out for her.

A squeal burst past Floriana's lips when Geta scooped her up from the floor and leaned back to sit her down on his lap.

"Hi flower," He murmured softly and when her little hands patted his cheeks, Geta obliged and leaned down to kiss her temple.

(Y/n) watched the both of them with fondness amplifying in her eyes and causing a bright smile to etch across her face. Her hands squeezed his shoulders and she leaned forward to perch her chin in the crook of his neck as a little incoherent murmur left their daughter's lips.

She loved to see Geta with their little girl. Although it was frowned upon to have the father at the birth, Geta had burst into the room when he couldn't wait around any longer and listen to his wife's tortured cries.

(Y/n) had been nervous when she had Floriana. She didn't know how Geta would react to a daughter, it was something that had rattled her and caused her many sleepless nights. Everyone had expected her to bear a son, to give an heir to the throne to secure Geta's place as Emperor. Having a girl simply meant everyone would be pressuring her to have a boy sooner or later as if she had done something wrong and she would have to keep retrying until she got it right.

Geta quashed those worries immediately. The tears in his eyes and the bright smile on his face when he held his daughter showed he wasn't disappointed in the slightest. He was enamoured with his little girl and he wouldn't change her for the world. She and (Y/n) were Geta's everything.

The three people in this room with him were his family. These were the people he would give his life for.

"Have you two had some fun?" (Y/n) reached her arm across to brush her finger against her daughter's cheek, watching the little girl giggle and burrow into Geta's chest.

Although her fingers started to tap against the golden armour covering his chest. She couldn't reach his undershirt or his robes. Floriana had a new obsession with hiding herself away in Geta's robes like she was doing some kind of magician's trick. With his armour in the way, she couldn't tuck herself into his clothes or make herself disappear.

"We've been for a stroll in the gardens with Dondus." Caracalla perched on the arm of the sofa nearest to (Y/n) and brought his feet up to rest on the sofa cushion. His sandals began to tap against the cushion and his hands patted his thighs as he continued to smile. He was in one of his good moods today.

When Floriana pushed up until she was stood on Geta's thigh, he tilted back to see what she was doing.

"What are you doing, little one?"

Her hands scrunched up in the collar of his shirt that poked through above his armour and her cheek flopped onto his shoulder near (Y/n) as she pushed into his chest. Geta kissed the top of her head with a smile as he realised that she was tired. She would need a nap now and if he had the time, he would lie right here and let her lay on his chest. He would cuddle her and stay with her as she slept if he could.

"Acacius is back from his venture, we should go and await his arrival." It wasn't like Caracalla to be prompt and ready to follow procedure, but they had sent the General on a mission to conquor lands in the name of Rome. And both Emperors were eager to hear of his triumph and know just how much he had procured for them while he had been away.

"We should." Geta hummed against the top of his daughter's head but the sigh he let out told (Y/n) he didn't really want to leave.

"I think we will stay here and have a nap while you await your victories." (Y/n) turned to gently ease their daughter into her own arms because she knew if she didn't, Geta was unlikely to let his daughter go.

She made a little whine at the movement but once her head was nestled into (Y/n)'s chest and she began drooling on her mother's sleeve, she seemed content. The little girl curled up in her mother's embrace who slouched back into the sofa so her daughter was lying down and could settle to sleep.

(Y/n) was more than eager to stay here in the library where it was quiet and serene. Her baby girl could take a nap and (Y/n) could continue reading while the Emperor's went about their business.

A lot of the ladies in court had told and advised (Y/n) to leave the nurturing of her daughter to the maids.

'That is what they are there for.'

That wasn't good enough. (Y/n) wanted to be with her daughter. She loved to read to her and cuddle her and take walks with her and be in her presence. (Y/n) wanted to be involved just the same as Geta rarely let his girl out of his sight when he wasn't in his meetings. He checked on her at almost every moment of the day, he wanted to be involved when she began to take her lessons and tutoring.

They would both be involved in their daughter's upbringing more than the servants and maids would be.

"Sleep," Caracalla muttered and grazed his fingers against his niece's thin strands of hair before he bounced up from the sofa to take his leave. He had done his job with entertaining her for the morning and now he could go and drown in spendor and victory.

"I won't be too long."

Geta pressed a finger beneath (Y/n)'s chin, tilting her head up towards him so he could steal a kiss from her warm lips. Her touch was enticing him to stay and he hummed against her lips, swiping his tongue against hers in a battle that had him yearning to stay here with them than to go and deal with the victories of Rome.

When (Y/n) finally pulled back for air, Geta groaned and bowed his forehead against hers. He didn't want to leave his girls.

"Rest, little flower." His words were hushed against Floriana's temple which he kissed, twice, and his finger brushed along her cheek before he finally parted from his girls. His eyes lingered on them as he left the library, feeling like he was walking away without his heart that had been left behind with them.

He wanted to be back with them already.

***

After both Emperors departed, it didn't take long for Floriana to drift into slumber, resting against her mother's chest. Her head was tucked against (Y/n)'s neck and she had curled up like a cub, dozing peacefully.

(Y/n) had her cheek resting on top of Floriana's head with one arm draped around her daughter and the other hand expertly balancing her book and preventing the pages from wavering and losing her place.

She wasn't sure how long they stayed there, tucked up in their own little world of peace together with no disrruptions or people clattering around and making a fuss. It was lovely to spend some time together with her little girl.

(Y/n) could feel her own eyes desperate to close but she powered through, wanting to use this time to read and sit with her daughter rather than fall to sleep and lose the moment.

They had been tucked up together for a long while before a quiet knock sounded at the door and (Y/n) looked over to see the nursemaid poking her head around the door. She wondered if the maid knew instinctively that the princess would be in here with her mother or if she had spent a while searching round the palace for the pair of them. Or maybe one of the Emperors had mentioned in passing where they both were.

It didn't matter either way. The maid walked into the room with a smile gracing her plump features as she looked down at the princess who was just beginning to stir in her mother's arms.

"Would you like me to take the princess for some lunch?"

"Please." (Y/n) nodded and placed the feather back in her book which she set down beside her.

She eased forward until Floriana was forced to sit up on her lap and the little girl rubbed her fist against her eyes to try and wake herself up. Her head lolled from left to right and a yawn escaped her lips as she smiled sweetly up at the maid who reached down to scoop her up.

They both knew if the princess tried walking now she would stumble or lay down with only just waking up and she would dawdle. It would be much easier to carry her back to her room to have something to eat.

(Y/n) pressed a kiss to her temple and brushed her short strands of golden hair away from her little eyes before she was in the maid's arms.

"Are you joining us, Empress?"

"Soon, I'll find the Emperor first." It wouldn't be fitting for (Y/n) not to find out how their meeting with General Acacius had gone- or was still going, depending on how long this meeting would drag out for.

(Y/n) knew the Emperors would entertain the General and want to hear about every triumph and each obstacle he overcame so they knew how to better strategize their next invasion. And she knew as Empress that she needed to take an interest too and find out how things had gone.

She watched with a smile as the maid nodded and left the library with the Princess bundled up in her arms, still half asleep.

(Y/n) wasn't that hungry yet, anyway. She would take a walk to liven herself up and then go and see how things were fairing with both Emperors. Hopefully this meeting would go well and there would be reason for triumph and celebrations. (Y/n) knew both Emperors were desperate to entertain more Gladiators in the colosseum. It wasn't a sport that (Y/n) particularly enjoyed witnessing, but seeing her husband so eager and cheering and giving the casting vote of a Gladiator's life was thrilling to watch.

With her book laid on the small table beside the sofa, (Y/n) stood up and smoothed down the wrinkles in her dress that pooled towards her ankles. The pure white cotton always glistened when she walked in the sunlight and Geta always commented that she reminded him of a star with how the light sparkled on her when she wore white. A blinding beauty was how he often described her.

She made her way to the door and headed out of the quiet library, into the corridor that had very limited windows and therefore not much light. The shadows cast darker in this corridor and made (Y/n) feel like she was wandering the palace in darkness rather than the middle of the day.

The sound of her sandals clicking against the stones echoed and bounced off the walls and she slowly descended towards the end of the hall to the stairs.

(Y/n) wasn't too sure whereabouts her husband would be having this meeting with Acacius, but she knew it would be downstairs. Either in one of the drawing rooms or the great hall which they used for meetings with the Senate. The only thing she was sure of was that he and Caracalla would speak to Acacius on their own. Without an audience so they could truly discuss their plans and news.

A gasp tumbled past her lips and she stepped back just before she reached the corridor leading to the stairs when a firm chest almost barrelled into her.

Her left hand pressed into the wall and her right hand pressed against her chest to steady her breathing.

Her round eyes looked up to see who she had almost collided with and she stepped back again to add a bit more space between them and make sure that she wouldn't tumble over.

"Oh, General Caius." (Y/n) nodded her head at the General who stood tall in front of her.

He was one of the men she didn't know too well. (Y/n) knew only a few of the Generals who paraded round the palace and led her husband's armies. Caius was one of the men she was more acquainted with but she never really had many dealings with him. It was usually a smile in passing when he would come to deliver news to the Emperors.

"Empress." He bowed his head to her and (Y/n) watched a smile light up his features.

His smile seemed somehow too large and crooked for his face and the way his beady eyes trained in on her made her chest tighten. Being married to an Emperor made (Y/n) the subject of scrutiny by many people, and it was never something she handled well.

She couldn't help the way she cast her eyes around the hall as if waiting for someone to wander out of one of the rooms and cease this awkward encounter or strike up a conversation.

"Have you seen the Emperor?"

"No my lady." When he stepped closer, (Y/n) tried to form a placid smile as she carefully stepped to the right. "No guards?"

The way Caius cast his eyes around the hall and ticked his head made (Y/n) look behind her rather stupidly. She knew she didn't have guards following her. Geta had agreed to her wishes not to be followed around the palace at every waking moment.

When she had been pregnant, he had been a little less willing and made sure the guards followed at a safe distance behind (Y/n), for his peace of mind. And of course if the princess wasn't with her parents or uncle, she was to be guarded at all times. But Geta had allowed (Y/n) the luxury of not having guards trailing her every movement if she did not want them to.

She only had guards if she left the palace or when they were entertaining company, for curtesy.

Caius knew this. He often did guard duties in the palace from time to time and he knew (Y/n) was different to the Emperors. Both Emperors liked to have guards nearby, they never knew who might be lurking around each corner or when someone might turn into an enemy and attack. Whereas this had never happened to (Y/n) so she had no reason to think it might happen now.

"Good day, General." Dipping her head down in curtesy, (Y/n) scratched her fingers against the palm of her hands as she stepped to the right a little more to try and walk around Caius.

She had no wish to entertain him in conversation today, she wanted to go and find her family and celebrate their victories.

Her eyes trained on the floor, following the cracks in the carefully carved stone but a jolt ran through her system and made her chest tighten horribly when a hand curled around her upper arm. Her feet stumbled over one another and her shoulder bashed into Caius's chest when he roughly pulled her back towards him.

"What's the rush?" His voice seemed to lower an octave and his grin had turned sickening as he stared down at her.

His fingers were starting to grip bruisingly into (Y/n)'s flesh and when she tried to yank her arm out of his hold, he simply reeled her back towards him again.

What was he doing?

"You forget your place. General." (Y/n) held her chin high and ground her jaw as she wrenched her arm out of his hold and fought the urge to reach out and slap him for his indignation.

He had no right to be grabbing her like that. (Y/n) wanted to go and he had no cause to stop her or try to entertain a conversation with her when she said no. All it took was one word to Geta for General Caius to be demoted; not that (Y/n) would ever want to use her status and power like that, but she would if she had to.

"And you clearly don't know yours, my lady." The way he sneered down at her made (Y/n)'s stomach churn but before she could try and bolt towards the stairwell, he grabbed her. Again.

A hand curled around the back of her neck with shuch a viper's grip that (Y/n) felt too afraid to breathe. She felt his other hand press down against the centre of her chest and her tense legs tripped and scuffed her heels against the floor when Caius pushed her back until she was pressed against the wall.

The cold stone bruised her shoulders and her spine ached when she jolted back against the wall, staring up at Caius in terror.

No one had ever been so bold as to do anything like this to her before. They knew who she was married to. They knew the madness that dwelled within her husband and the deep rage that jealousy provoked within him. If someone so much as looked at (Y/n) for a second too long, Geta's arm was around her waist and his petrifying gaze was burning into whoever was looking at her.

He had dismissed men from the palace for staring or hovering too close to his wife and for striking up much too informal conversations with her.

(Y/n) didn't want to think what he would do to a General under his command who laid a hand on his wife and who would try and put her in such a compromising position.

"Caius- that's enough!" (Y/n) clenched her hand around his wrist and tried to force his hand from her chest where he was pushing her so harshly into the wall that the stone was beginning to grate againt her exposed shoulders. But she couldn't seem to move when he all but thrust her back against the wall again and his head inclined closer to hers.

He took two steps closer until the smooth silver armour he wore clinked against her chest. It felt like (Y/n) was trapped between two walls that were closing in on her. At any moment she felt like she was going to be crushed.

When his other hand moved down and had the audacity to grip her hip, (Y/n) let go of his wrist. She reeled her arm back and slapped him across the face with as much force as she could muster.

The blunt force caused Caius's head to propell to the left and it weakened his hand against her chest enough for (Y/n) to push against him and stumble to one side.

Why was he doing this? Didn't he know the punishment for this would certainly be his death? If he went any further in his torturous advances, (Y/n) wouldn't be able to stop Geta from unleashing Hell onto him. If he stopped now, if he backed off and let (Y/n) hurry to Geta, then Caius would get away with being stripped of his General status and being exiled from Rome. But if he continued, (Y/n) wouldn't be able to stop her husband from taking his life.

"That was bold." Caius rose one hand to his mouth where he could taste blood from where he bit his tongue from the slap. But the way his grin splintered into a sideways smirk showed he wasn't going to stop at that.

(Y/n) screamed when his hand knotted in her hair and dragged her back against his chest, but when a thin hand blade was pressed over her neck, her voice cut short.

"Don't make me use this." He pressed the knife deeper against her throat until (Y/n) couldn't breathe without discomfort, as if she didn't know what he was referring to. "Although I do wonder… does your blood run blue when cut?"

A cry bubbled up in (Y/n)'s throat but she clamped her mouth shut and closed her eyes to try and steady herself. Her hands grasped Caius's arm to stop herself from wavering and to try and keep him from pressing the blade too far and cutting off her breathing.

Oh dear.

How was she going to get out of this? How was she going to explain this situation to Geta? Her husband wasn't going to react well. She needed to get out of this now before Caius did something horrible. (Y/n) didn't want to know if he would cut her or not. She didn't want to be hurt with a blade. She didn't want to know what his intentions were or how far he would go or if he would truly try and defile an Empress.

His motives were clear and disgusting.

The word 'no' uttered past her lips and her neck tensed and began to tremble against the blade as she tried to push him back but it wasn't working.

The blade held her in place and when she felt his free hand move to clutch at her lip it felt like his fingers were fangs piercing into her skin. She could feel her dress being scrunched up in his fist along with how tightly he was gripping her skin that would surely bruise beneath his poisonous touch.

With what effort she could muster, (Y/n) rose her knee up and rammed it into his crotch as swiftly as she could manage. But the movement caused Caius to crash forwards into her as he doubled over with a loud grunt.

His face pressed awfully close to hers until (Y/n) could see the emotions bubbling over in his eyes. Rage. Lust. Anger. All of it, mixing together in a sinister concotion that had her stomach churning in fright.

She could barely draw in a proper breath with Caius pressing into her and the blade against her throat. But she tried. She tried to inhale one deep breath that expanded her lungs to the max and allowed her to hold her breath so she could push forward.

She took the risk of pressing her throat further into the blade until she could feel a slight sting and a few droplets of blood dribbled across the blade. It caused Caius to pull his arm back an inch or two.

He didn't want to cut her. He didn't want to use the blade unless he had to. He was smart. He hoped the threat of inflicting pain would be enough to subdue (Y/n) and make her listen to him. Actually harming her wasn't something Caius wanted to do because he knew if he was caught and (Y/n) was harmed, that would be it.

Harming the Emperor's wife was a death sentence and although Caius was playing with fire, he didn't want to get burned.

"Enough!" The word spat past (Y/n)'s lips in a breathless scream and she thrashed her arms out until they bashed down into Caius's elbows, forcing his arms to tense and drop down.

The action caused the knife to slice through her skin. It wasn't deep enough to reach muscle, but it was enough to make (Y/n)'s knees shake in agony and a scream erupted from her lips. The feeling of her skin peeling apart like fruit made her body cringe and writhe. She felt the knife carve from the side of her neck down to her collar bone.

When Caius's arm slid from her frame, the knife roughly slashed against (Y/n)'s dress, cutting the strap across her right shoulder so the material hung loose and barely stayed over her chest.

With her right hand cradling her neck and feeling the blood trickling across her palm, (Y/n) thrust her other arm out until she smacked the General at any angle and area of his body that she could. She flung her left side into him, shoving him back as she tripped over her skirts and stumbled away from him.

Her feet became caught in her dress that was floundering around her like sails caught in the wind and her body slumped against the wall to her right to stop herself going down on her knees.

Tears tumbled down her face as another scream belted past her lips, trying in vain to alert anyone that she needed help. There had to be someone around here. Surely. Someone had to be walking these halls or cleaning the rooms on this floor or just loitering around. There had to be someone who could hear her.

"I will have you!"

Caius's shrill, gritty tone made (Y/n) whimper and she turned around just in time to raise her left arm in defence when she saw the glittering edge of the blade coming towards her. The blade cut through her forearm deeper than the wound to her neck and had her arm trembling and coiling back towards her chest.

Why was he doing this? Why (Y/n)? Was the thought of harming or defiling an Empress worth the price he was going to pay for this?

Surely he knew that if he didn't kill (Y/n), she would tell Geta and that her husband wasn't likely to ignore her. Geta would believe her, he wouldn't never think his wife was lying and therefore Caius would have no defence when Geta found him. He couldn't lie his way out of this situation.

When his hand clenched around her upper arm and gave a rough twist, (Y/n) stumbled towards him. She let herself go limp and allowed him to drag her to her knees before him while her right hand slithered round from her tense, bleeding neck to scrunch her fingers up into her hair.

Caius seemed too interested with the sight of the Empress on her knees before him to notice what she was doing. His eyes were roaming her skin, taking in the sight of her tense throat that was gasping for air and her heaving chest trying to regain enough oxygen so she didn't pass out. He seemed to enjoy the hatred pooling in her eyes that would not look up beyond his chin, she wouldn't give him the satisfaction of staring into those beastly eyes.

He made the mistake of leaning towards her. He made the grave error of letting go of her arm in favour of grasping her chin which he man handled so he could tilt her head back and roughly force his lips against hers. He was so rough that his teeth clashed against hers and caused her lip to cut against her teeth and the touch was sickening.

But the distraction was enough. (Y/n)'s trembling fingers pulled one of the pins from her hair that had previously kept her hair pinned neatly at the back of her head. Tendrils of hair fell loose as (Y/n) clenched the thin metal between her thumb and index finger.

Her watering eyes narrowed and she focused on the General before her as she thrust her hand forward until the pin punctured into his eye.

The action made her stomach churn and she could feel bile rising at the back of her throat as she gagged. The squelching sound made (Y/n) cough through a cry and when Caius roared, (Y/n) took her chance.

She twisted his wrist until the blade punctured through his lower abdomen where the silver armour he wore could not reach to protect him.

Another roar of agony left the General's lips as he crashed to his knees. Blood lathered around his eye socket where his eyelid was pinned closed and blood continued to trickle down his face. His white robes beneath his armour quickly started to change like a magician's trick, turning a horrible shade of crimson.

The wound in his abdomen wasn't as deep as (Y/n) wanted it to be, but she didn't have the strength to push the blade any further when it needed so much effort and Caius's hand was fighting against her, repelling her motion. But the flesh wound was all she needed to escape him.

(Y/n) sank back on her heels and scraped her bloodied hands along the floor so she could turn over and scramble to her feet.

Her hands bunched around her dress, yanking it up so she had no fear or tripping over her skirts as she pelted down the hall.

Tears whipped across her face, horrid wheezing breaths tumbled past her lips causing her chest to heave. And blood coated her previously crystal white dress that was now ruined. She would never be able to wear this dress again. She would never wear white again or look at her white gowns in the same way.

She looked like a ruined work of art.

Blood coated her palms. It dried like flecks of paint along her neck and she could feel slithers trickling down her chest beneath her dress. The fact that Caius's blood was now painted across her dress made (Y/n) want to be sick.

Her sandals slid across the stairs and had her stumbling down three steps at once causing her to grip the handrail before she tumbled down the staircase.

Terrified sounds tumbled past her lips and tears blurred her vision as she gasped for breath, running on adrenaline and fear.

(Y/n) coiled both her arms into her chest and bowed her head, running slightly hunched over to try and rid herself of the pulsing pains coursing through her body in time with her rapid heartbeat. Her eyes aimed on the floor that blurred before her eyes and she ran off memory. It was a relief that she knew this palace like the back of her hand and could run its halls in the dead of night with her eyes closed.

A scream erupted past her lips when her shoulder collided with another and sent her veering to the right.

"My lady-"

(Y/n) recognised the voice of the maid she had clearly barged into, but she couldn't place her name. Her mind was too scrambled to make sense of anything except for the fact that she needed her husband. Now.

"No!" (Y/n) flung her arm out when the maid tried to rest a hand on her shoulder. She didn't care for anyone's touch or anyone trying to help her. It was too little too late. She needed help ten minutes ago when the General had started his attack. Not now, when she had already defended herself and took care of the matter on her own.

Her feet picked up the pace and she was back to pelting unsteadily down the corridor, aiming for the great hall. If her husband wasn't in there then (Y/n) would find the nearest servant and demand them to find him. But she had to keep moving. Standing around in empty corridors was clearly unsafe now. She had to move until she was somewhere safe. With someone safe.

"You have brought great victory to Rome, General. You must be rewarded." Geta's fingers tangled together behind his back while he looked at Acacius stood opposite him and his brother.

They had listened to him reel off the plans of attack, what had worked and what needed improvement. The land he had procured for them and how they had only lost a few good men in their army.

They would plan games in the General's honour, to celebrate what he had done for the good of Rome.

Geta glanced over at his brother who was stood to his right with a beaming smile and a chuckle of agreement. Caracalla was all for celebrations, especially if it meant watching the games in the colosseum. The more blood and guts and gore, the better, in their opinion.

Just as Geta went to say something else, the words faded out on his tongue and he twisted to look behind him over his shoulder when the large oak doors burst open.

Reprimands and arguments flooded his mind as he was ready to punish whoever it was for entering the hall without knocking. Without permission. The servants knew not to interrupt, they knew a meeting was taking place and none of them were needed and should not interrupt.

He found no such arguments getting past his lips when he realised who had burst into the room.

His wife.

Such a belting scream emmitted past (Y/n)'s lips that Geta cringed and his shoulders rose up while his brother flinched and grunted at the noise.

Geta found his jaw hanging open and every part of his body turned rigid at the sight he was faced with.

His wife dropped to her knees once she was two feet over the threshold into the hall. Her body went down with a thump that echoed off the walls and her arms encased around her waist while she leaned forward and bowed her head. Her hair fell all around her in tangled knots and rampid curls that had come loose from their earlier, beautiful style that Geta had witnessed not more than an hour ago.

But it was the sight of his wife's dress that left Geta speechless and on the brink of collapsing himself. Blood. It tainted her dress. It embellished her smooth skin and speckled across her face and mingled with her torrential tears.

"Guards! Fetch the guards- and a healer. Now!" Geta spat the words as he shoved his hand into Acacius's shoulder to get him to move fast.

The General seemed as panicked and confused as both Emperors, but he nodded. One hand moved to grip the hilt of his blade just in case he encountered some thieves or thugs or crazed lunatic running around the palace. Acacius glanced his eyes down at the Empress as he rushed past her, panic and pain filling his gaze as he hurried past her.

He didn't have time to stop and try to help, he had to fetch a healer and alert the guards that there was a clear problem within the palace.

Geta could feel his brother hurrying behind him as the pair of them aimed for (Y/n).

The marbled floor hurt when Geta sank down to his knees before his wife and his hands immediately found her elbows so he could carefully reel her up so she was no longer crumpled over her thighs. He had to know what had happened. He had to know where all the blood was coming from. He had to help her. Somehow.

He couldn't help the way he flinched when he reached out for (Y/n) and her blood and tears soaked into his palms. His teeth sank down into his lower lip while he cupped her face in his hands and began smoothing his thumbs beneath her eyes to try and coax her to look at him.

But as Geta tilted her head back and tried to look her up and down, he didn't like what he saw.

There was a large cut, not too deep but not exactly superficial, going down the bottom of her neck and ended in the centre of her collar bone. And when (Y/n) reached her trembling hands up to grasp Geta's wrists, he tilted back and leaned his head down to look at the wound on her left arm. Blood was coating her arm like a red scarf had been wrapped around her forearm and droplets were splotching onto the otherwise clear marble floor.

Not to mention the fact that the right sleeve of her dress had been ripped, causing the top of her dress to bunch and sit lower on her chest than it had been earlier.

Someone was going to pay for this.

Geta's manic eyes couldn't stop roaming up and down his wife's frame and his hands were at the point of trembling until he was nearly shaking her head in his grasp. He couldn't find any words, all he could do was take note of each mark, each droplet of blood and each scuff mark on her skin. Noting all the discrepencies that someone was going to pay for. Each mark would account for every stab wound Geta would personally inflict on whoever was the cause of this.

"Where is little flower?" Caracalla looked from (Y/n) to glance behind her and then he darted his eyes around the room. His voice filled with a sudden air of panic and his features became enraged with every passing second.

His niece had been with (Y/n) when both Emperors left them. Was she too injured? Was she alright? Did they need a healer for the Princess too? Did the Emperors have to gut someone for daring to harm a hair on both the Empress and the Princess's heads?

A sudden breathlessness took over Geta when the thought of his daughter came to mind. He looked from his brother to his wife, noticing how his brother was starting to huff and his features had gone bright red at the thought of something happening to Floriana.

Where was his daughter?

"W- wi- with the maid. Safe." The words barely spluttered past (Y/n)'s lips. She couldn't find the nerve to speak and her panicked breaths and rapid heartbeat made it hard to utter a proper sentence.

But she had to let them know that Floriana was safe. (Y/n) dreaded to think what the General would have done if Floriana had been in (Y/n)'s arms when he approached her. Maybe he would have resisted and carried on walking. Maybe he would have hurt the princess too in order to get to the Empress. Perhaps he would have tried to drag (Y/n) away from her daughter. The possibilities were endless and each possible outcome made (Y/n) shudder and whimper. Thank the Gods her daughter had been and still was with her maid.

"Who did this?"

The tone of Geta's voice made (Y/n) cry harder and she couldn't meet his gaze until his hands were cupping her face more firmly and he tilted her head up so she had no choice but to look at him.

He wanted names. He wanted to know exactly who he had to castrate and murder for this madness.

"C-Caius."

"The General?"

Both Geta and Caracalla shared a look of confusion with each other while (Y/n) pulled her face out of Geta's hands so she could push forward into his embrace. Her face buried in his shoulder and her hands clutched at one of his arms, reeling it into her chest as she tried to curl up as if wanting to make herself disappear.

A General had done this? A man of power and influence, someone who should know much better than to mess with an Emperor's wife. A man who was trusted with the ruling and discipline of the Emperor's armies. A man like that had done this to the Empress of Rome.

"What did he do?" Geta feared to ask the question because he wasn't sure what kind of answer he would receive. The tears pouring down his wife's face told him the General had vastly overstepped the mark and tried to harm her, but exactly what he had done was unknown to Geta. He couldn't get the full story simply by looking at her wounds.

"He h- had a blade, he… he pinned me to t-the wall, but I stabbed him." (Y/n) closed her eyes, shuddering at the mere memory of what she had done.

She had never stabbed anyone before. She had never so much as slapped anyone before today, she had no need. No one had ever been inappropriate with (Y/n) before and the only person who had insulted her had almost been blinded when Geta fought him for the indignation.

"Okay." Geta hushed quietly while a mixture of relief and violent torment circled through his system.

The General clearly hadn't gotten as far as he wanted, Thank the Gods, but knowing he had even tried in the first place made Geta's fury boil over. (Y/n) had had to resort to stabbing him. She had resorted to defending herself when she shouldn't of had to, not in her own palace where she was supposed to be safe from threats and vile people like that.

Once Acacius led the way back into the hall, he was followed by a dozen guards, all waiting for instructions but instinctively on the look out for anything and anyone who looked out of place. Their eyes cast around the room but all fell silent when they looked down at the Empress.

One of Geta's hands moved to carefully cradle the back of (Y/n)'s head and the other arm encased around her waist, making sure she was tucked up safe against his chest. His lips smothered her temple for a few moments before he looked up at Acacius.

There was a great fire burning within Geta's eyes to rival the worst atrocities in the colosseum and the way his upper lip curled into a snarl was more than unsettling to witness.

"The healer is in the drawing room." Acacius could barely find his voice. His words were low and his eyes cast on the floor as he spoke. He didn't dare look at the Empress. Something told him that Geta would strike any of them if they dared to look at his wife while she was in such a state.

"Come here, my love." Geta's voice was unusually calm and the words were whispered against the shell of (Y/n)'s ear.

Her whole body broke out in trembles when Geta carefully moved her arms to loop them around the back of his neck. He left her face tucked up into the crook of his neck while his arms swooped around her lower back and the other slid beneath her knees.

He eased her against his chest and pushed up from his knees that had gone numb with how he had been knelt on the cold floor. It was hard for Geta to stop from digging his fingers into her skin. All he wanted to do was squeeze and grip her as tightly as he could but he knew better than to do that and risk hurting her anymore than she already had been.

His lips attached to her temple but his steely eyes focused ahead of him as he stormed out of the hall and into the corridor lined with guards who were watching and waiting his every move.

"What are you all looking at?!"

It took Geta by surprise, but he didn't shudder or jerk when he heard his brother's sudden scream. He simply pursed his lips and took a deep breath while he continued in his strides towards the drawing room that overlooked the gardens.

He could feel Caracalla and Acacius following close behind while the guards hung back a few steps, clearly unsettled by Caracalla's outburst. If any of them were caught staring at the Empress, Caracalla might raise his own sword to their throats. He was liable to fleeting moods and he was rattled, anything and anyone could provoke him. His sister had been hurt, he wouldn't take this lightly.

(Y/n) kept her face smothered in Geta's neck, brushing her chin and lips over the golden armour cladding Geta's shoulder. She could feel the cold metal turning her arms numb and making her blood run cold, but it was soothing when her skin felt like it had been overheating until now.

She wanted to disappear. (Y/n) wanted to curl up and make herself as small as possible. She wanted everyone to leave, she wanted this nightmare to end and to wake up like she had this morning with no problems on the horizon.

Once Geta stormed into the drawing room, he stormed ahead to the sofa that was in front of the large canopy windows and he knelt down to carefully lower (Y/n) onto the sofa. He sat down beside her, allowing her to continue to curl into his armour.

He cupped the side of her bloodied face and smothered his lips against the top of her head, breathing into her hair and inhaling her scent to try and calm himself down. He didn't remove his other arm from her waist that kept her tucked up against him. If the healers wanted to help her, they would have to do so while she was wrapped up in her husband's embrace.

The sound of Geta's voice murmuring "It's okay, you're okay," caused (Y/n) to cry harder and she didn't dare lift her head from his chest. She didn't want to look at anyone and see the fear or the sorrow filling their eyes. She didn't want their gazes falling on her.

It was a relief to see that the two healers had already started to get things prepared. There was a small table moved beside the sofa, covered with balms, remedies, cloths soaked in cleansing oils, bandages and opium, for the pain the Empress was clearly suffering.

"I want General Caius found and brought to me."

"The General?" The implication in Geta's voice was clear, but Acacius couldn't quite wrap his head around it. Surely this madness couldn't be down to the General's doing. Surely Caius hadn't done or caused all of this.

Acacius was a General himself and he would never dare to lay a hand on the Empress without great reason. It was rare for anyone to strike up a conversation with the Empress. For someone to lay a hand on her, to harm her in such a way was unspeakable and unthought of. No one would imagine something like this happening, within the palace no less.

Acacius took a step back, his eyes casting down when he found himself under Geta's scrutinising gaze. The way Geta's lips curled was frightening and the vengeance he wanted was clearly written across his face.

"He has maimed my wife!"

His usually pale complexion was overrun with colour. The make up Geta wore couldn't hide the blood rushing to the surface of his skin and the black make up smudged beneath his eyes only made him look deathly and spiteful. "Look what he's done to her!"

Geta realised his voice may have been a fraction too loud when he felt (Y/n) whimper and flinch in his arms, but he couldn't help it.

Could General Acacius not see what had been done to his Empress? Could he not see that she had told Geta exactly who had done this and that Geta wanted his head?

He wanted Caius brought to him now, and he wanted to inflict the fires of Hell onto him for this madness.

"And I want guards with the Princess. She is to be within their sights at all times."

With the wave of his hand, the General and the guards all left the room in search of Caius. Three guards stayed positioned outside the doors, making sure no one came in without permission. They would all be stationed to protect the Empress from now on. She wouldn't be walking the halls alone again, not after this.

And four guards were ordered to go to the Princess's chambers and keep watch over her. They were to make sure she was alright and ensure no one visited her or went too close to her. The Empress had already been attacked, Geta wouldn't stand for his daughter being hurt or frightened in any sense.

A frustrated growl left Geta's lips. He couldn't foresee how this atrocity had happened. Guards should have heard the commotion. Servants should have been filtering around the palace at some point. Someone should have stopped this. Were these people not paid enough to look after their rulers? Were they incompetent? Would Geta have to replace each and every one of them to ensure the safety of his family?

Whatever Geta grunted and grumbled under his breath went unheard by (Y/n) and the healers around them.

She tried to nuzzle her face into Geta's neck but her watering eyes opened when she found his hand cradling her chin and he carefully tilted her head back on his shoulder so he could look down upon her.

Without saying a word, he took one of the cloths from the table and began working to rid the blood from his wife's features. It felt like polishing a diamond, cleansing away every bitter element of the world to find the beauty hidden beneath. He scrubbed the flecks of blood away, watching as hazy burnt orange water the same as his hair trickled down her features as the blood was cleaned away.

The healers didn't make a sound, allowing Geta to be the one to clean the wound on (Y/n)'s neck so they could apply tonics and rags soaked in lotion. The wound wasn't deep enough to require stitches, the tonics would help the skin mend back together on its own and as long as it was clean, there would be no infection to deal with.

When he was done, Geta tossed the rag onto the floor and went back to gluing his lips against his wife's temple. He resisted the urge to start swaying them from side to side, knowing that would make the healer's job much harder as he was tending to the cut on her forearm. That one would require stitches, the blood loss made that very clear.

His thumb stroked across (Y/n)'s jaw while his other hand tensed and twitched against her hip, trying to control the rage that was mounting up within him. But when he glanced to the left, adrenaline fueled his heart and made extra beats course through his blood when he noticed Acacius had crept back into the room.

With a lasting kiss to the side of (Y/n)'s temple, Geta carefully slid from sitting behind her and approached the General.

He was pleased when his brother took his place, sitting down beside (Y/n) with a tepid smile and his hand held out so (Y/n) could squeeze his hand. Caracalla took it upon himself to take the vile of opium and press it to his sister in law's lips, urging her to drink so the pain in her arm would be lessened and the discomfort from the gash in her neck would go away. And with any luck, it might help her sleep.

"We found him." Acacius murmured quietly and the grave look on his face told Geta all he needed to know. By the looks of him when they found him, there was no doubt that he had been the one who attacked the Empress.

The weak sound of (Y/n) trying to call out his name had Geta shivering, but he didn't look back. He couldn't. If he looked at her, he wouldn't be able to leave her and right now, he had to. As much as he wanted to stay by his wife's side, he had to let the healers tend to her wounds so Geta himself could tend to the obscenity that had caused this mess. The threat needed to be vanquished.

Geta let the General lead him through the twists and turns of the palace until they were down in the dungeon.

It had been a while since Geta had been down here, it wasn't a place he frequented often. He sent people here, he sent a lot of people down here, but he didn't administrate the torture they received or visit them as they spent many days, weeks, sometimes even months down here.

If he ever unleashed his violence on people, it was usually up in the main quarters of the palace. In front of servants or an audience.

But this was different. This was a General that Geta had to deal with. And although the people of Rome would be understanding that someone hurting the Empress needed to be punished, they wouldn't take kindly to witnessing a General being slain.

This was a necessity. No one got away with harming the Emperor's wife. General Caius had taken liberties and Geta needed to show him that he wouldn't allow that and that the price was his life. He had to pay for his crimes.

His sandals clicked against the grime covered stones lining the floor, differing from the marble floor that was in many of the upstairs chambers of the palace. The torches did nothing to cast a good light around the dungeon, the lighting was dim but it glimmered off of Geta's golden armour.

He removed the sword from his belt and tossed it to one side. Caius didn't deserve a swift end. Geta wouldn't grant him that.

Once Acacius led him to one of the cells on the right and a guard unlocked the iron door, Geta lowered his head to step inside the small cell with an oval brick ceiling matching that of the wine cellar.

One brow arched and his head angled to the side, both to overlook the General and to stop his golden hair from touching the low ceiling. Geta's eyes narrowed in scrutiny and something of a smile formed across his lips as he looked over the doomed General.

Hands bound in shackles chained to the wall. On his knees where he belonged in the grime and dirt and puddles of water that leaked through the small slits in the ceiling that provided very little light. The General had his head lowered but once he lifted his chin, something seemed to wash over him and his skin turned pale.

Geta revelled in the way Caius shivered and how his chest started to rise and fall rapidly, sensing his impending doom at the sight of one of his Emperors stood before him.

Turning to the side, Geta overlooked the wooden table in the corner of the room right beside the door. Everything he needed to ensure a torturous death; everything from tongue clamps to iron pokers and a various assortment of blades.

With a deep breath and a wider smile, Geta waved his hand to dismiss Acacius. He didn't need a witness or any protection, and Caius was going to receive no mercy. Geta didn't want Acacius to try and vouch for this man or try to earn the sparing of his life. He was going to die, Geta had already decided upon it.

Once Acacius departed to wait outside the chamber, Geta crouched down in front of Caius. His arms perched on his thighs and a sickening grin lit up his face as he leaned in close to inspect the wounds on Caius. He reached out and roughly gripped Caius's chin, twisting his head from left to right to take a good look at his wife's handiwork. She shouldn't have needed to defend herself in the first place, but nonetheless, Geta was proud of her.

"My wife has wounded you well; I have come to finish the task."

Whatever had been stabbed into his eye had been removed, but the blood was still covering the eye socket and both eyelids had swollen shut over his eye. He stared across at the Emperor with only one good eye to witness his own demise. And there was a lovely puddle of blood gathering around his knees from a wound beneath his armour.

They hadn't bothered to call a healer for him. What use would it do to patch up a condemned man? He was already dead, he just hadn't known it until now.

He roughly let go of Caius's chin, allowing his head to drop down while he rose to his feet and turned to face the table of instruments. Geta's fingers danced across each one before he decided which one to use first.

When he crouched back down in front of the General, glee lit up his face when he saw the panic strike Caius right in the heart. His head began to shake and he tried to shuffle back, but Geta tutted. He should know better.

"Tsk-tsk. True Generals show no fear; and true Emperors shall show no mercy."

Caius had nowhere to move to, he was limited by the iron clasped around his wrists and the chain welded to the brick wall. He dropped from his knees to flop onto the floor with his heels scraping against the puddle of blood beneath him and his back slumped into the wall.

His good eye screwed shut and he swallowed down a groan when Geta gripped his face and squeezed his cheeks until he had no choice but to open his mouth. The iron clamp snapped down into Caius's tongue, earning a croaked groan as Geta pulled the clamp so his tongue was on display. He knew the General knew what this meant, he was sure the General had used this device before. The tongue was either twisted until the muscle snapped or it was held until a blade sliced through the muscle and the tongue was cut out.

Geta slowly rose to his feet, a sickening look crossing his face as he reached out for a suitable blade. He stood close and hovered over the General like a beacon of Death. The Emperor was the bridge between life and death, he would deliver the General personally to the Angel of death.

"When I am done with you, what's left can be fed to the beasts in the colosseum."

***

A grimace flooded Acacius's face and his nose scrunched up as he tried to hold his breath so he didn't gag or make a disgruntled sound. He was used to witnessing death, he saw it whenever he went into battle and when he oversaw the games at the colosseum.

But he had never witnessed the gruesome death of a fellow General before. And the sight of the Emperor in front of him was one that was rather unsettling.

Geta glided down the hall like he was walking on air and the calm look on his face contradicted the heinous act he had just carried out.

It was as if he didn't seem to notice his attire was not all that fitting of an Emperor, but it seemed more fair to say that he just didn't care. He didn't care that his golden armour gladding his chest was now smeared with blood. He didn't care about the clear, bloodied hand print on the base of his robes near his knee from where Caius had begged for mercy. In vain.

Geta didn't see a problem with his ghostly white features that were now painted with a mixture of blood and dirt.

He paid no mind to the blood and grit stuck beneath his short nails, or the tiny cuts to his fingers and the palms of his hands from where he had hacked blades into Caius's flesh.

The clothes he was wearing would have to be burned, there was no saving the mixture of white and gold cloth from the stains this afternoon's torment had littered them with. And Geta would need to bathe and soak in boiling water for at least an hour to rid every morsel of blood and grime from his body.

He didn't care.

The smile on his wicked features said as much as he waltzed down the hall until he reached his chambers.

He wanted to see his wife. He wanted to see how she was fairing, how her wounds had been treated and if she was feeling any better. And Geta wanted her to see and bask in the blood and guts that he was painted with like a massacred work of art. Geta wanted her to know that he had taken care of the threat posed to her. He wanted her to see that she was safe and know that whatever Caius had tried to do to her, he got his comeuppance ten times worse.

He had already made sure that the Princess was in her own room and therefore wouldn't have to see her father in this state. Geta knew the Princess wouldn't understand and would most likely think it was paint that was covering her father, but Geta still didn't want this memory imprinted on her small, innocent mind.

Geta opened the chamber doors like he was walking out into a bright summers day and taking his first gulp of fresh air.

He cast his eyes around the room, noticing his brother sat on the chair by the window with Dondus perched happily on his shoulder, chittering away. And when he looked towards the bed, he saw her. His wife, his reason for living, sat in the centre of the bed looking like she wanted to fall to sleep but couldn't quite manage the task yet.

When their eyes met, their silent gaze spoke a thousand unsaid words as Geta strode towards her. It was all their in his eyes, his smile, his attire and his now crimson skin.

She was safe. He had made sure of that.

#imagine #emperor geta imagine #emperor geta x reader #geta imagine #geta x reader #emperor caracalla #gladiator imagine #gladiator ii #gladiator 2 #gladiator movie #emperor geta

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dondusthefirstconsul · 2 months ago

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Geta when they killed Acacius so now the people of Rome want them dead Caracalla is having one of his episodes and Dondus is screaming

#had to make it when i realised i had only imagined it already existing #emperor geta #emperor caracalla #gladiator II #gladiator 2 #fred hechinger #joseph quinn #dondus #myposts

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painted-flag · 2 months ago

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PROTECTION - geta and caracalla

₊˚⊹♡ with an attempt on your life, the emperors become increasingly paranoid and protective. ₊˚⊹ emperor geta x fem!reader x emperor caracalla ₊˚⊹ masterlist. ₊˚⊹ based on this request. (3.8k words)

The tremors in your hands had almost entirely subsided, only flinching slightly with each loud movement. To say the atmosphere in your room was tense would be an understatement. The entire palace was frozen with uncertainty and fear. You sat in a chair with one of your arms resting on the table next to you. The only other people in the room were the healer tending to the gash on your arm and a few guards, including the head of security for the palace.

There was not a sound other than the healer muttering to himself as he stitched up your wound. Your other hand reached for poppy milk and took another swig of it to distract from the pain of a needle closing your wound. It seemed as though no amount of pain relief would help with your predicament.

Only a short hour ago had you fended off an assailant. For whatever reason, as you were spending a portion of the afternoon in your chambers, a cloaked figure snuck in and tried to kill you. You had been raking your brain for any possible answer, but the only definitive one would be the simple fact: you were both the emperor’s lover. You could remember Geta and Caracalla speaking to you about safety regarding your relationship with them, but never for a moment did you ever think it would come close to this.

It was terrifying and everywhere you looked you would think a threat would be there. Geta and Caracalla were at the senate for some proceedings that were scheduled to take place for the whole afternoon. They had only been gone for a little over an hour when the assassin had snuck into your chambers.

Your eyes scanned back to the five guards. One on the end, a lower guard, was the only one who had blood on him. He had been the one to hear your shouts as you fended off the attacker and had come to your rescue. You did not know his name, but wanted to thank him for his efforts.

Another drive of the needle had you flinching in pain. However, you could hear the sound of thundering footsteps through the hall outside your door. The doors were pushed open furiously, both reeling back and hitting the wall; any harder and you were sure they would have broken. Geta and Caracalla stood before you, chests heaving equally and eyes with the same reflection of worry as they scanned the room. Seeing you off to the side, they surged forward. The guards and healer kept silent, aware of the coming storm.

Yet, there seemed to be nothing loud. No, the emperors came beside your chair with a simmering rage. Geta knelt and took your free hand in his while his eyes scanned your body for other injuries. Caracalla stood with a free hand holding your jaw, his thumb swiping soothing back and forth across your chin.

“Are you alright?” Geta’s soft voice broke the tension. He was unusually calm, simmering with something dark under the surface. Caracalla was the same, straight posture and calm.

It somehow unsettled you more than if they were lashing out.

“I’m okay, truly,” You gave them both a faint smile, “Only a little scratched up.”

“A little scratched up?” Caracalla spoke. His shoulders rose up and down with each restrained breath. His vision cast down to the healer who was stitching the large gash on your arm. “This is a little scratched up?”

“Brother.” Geta sent a warning glance his way, but it went ignored.

Caracalla turned to the guards before him. You could hear him take in a large inhale of air as if trying to cool the burning fire that crackled within. You exchanged a wary look with Geta, unsure if something would trigger another one of his episodes. It hurt to see him in such a state.

“You,” Caracalla addressed the head palace guard, “You have a few seconds to explain why our lady was hurt under your watch or I will gut you right here.”

The guard's face contorted into both confusion and terror, but he choked it back, “The assassin has been subdued and is locked up, Caesar.”

“Locked up? Good… good. He is not dead yet.” Caracalla turned back to you, or more precisely, your wounded arm laid out on the table, “But you have not explained to me why she is sitting there with a needle piercing her arm.”

“Yes,” Geta chimed in. He stood up but still held your hand, “Do tell us how she was harmed under your watch,”

The head guard looked from emperor to emperor. A bead of sweat was visible on his temple next to a prominent vein. The healer tied off the stitching and you hissed under your breath. The sudden movement pulled you away from the tension in the room. The healer began to wipe the last of the dried blood around the wound.

“Caesars, the guard does not account for the protection of palace maids and–”

“What did you say?” Geta interrupted. The brothers exchanged glances. You knew immediately that this situation was quickly becoming dire. The guard had called you a maid. While that was your previous job, you had been relieved of your duties many moons ago after the emperors became enamoured with you.

“Caesar, I–” The man gulped.

“Give me your sword.” Caracalla’s tone was one you knew well. It was the same level of cadence that would come over him before he lashed out. Geta sensed the same thing and moved to stand beside his brother.

“Caesar?” The man questioned.

“Give me your sword so I may gut you with it!” Caracalla lunged forward, attempting to beat the guard with nothing but his bare hands, but was caught at the waist by Geta who held him back.

“Say that about her again! I’ll fucking crucify you!” Geta struggled to hold his brother back. Caracalla was inconsolable, only intending to exact what he thought was just by gutting the man who uttered a single word against you. Geta secretly wished to unleash his brother on the guard but knew it would only cause more of a scene of distress in front of you which was not needed.

The healer made quick work of wrapping your arm in bandages. You thanked him quickly and dismissed him from the room. Caracalla was still fighting back against his brother’s hold when you decided that it was all enough.

“Stop! Do not hurt him.” You yelled as you stood from your chair. Almost instantly, Caracalla’s body went limp and the twins turned to you like you had said something utterly insane.

“This man’s negligence has led to your near death. You cannot possibly think that we will let him get away with it.” Geta spoke. You let out a long breath and walked up to them.

Lowering your voice, you spoke again, “I am aware, but I no longer wish to see any more violence for today.”

“But–” Caracalla moved to argue, but you silenced him with a look. You turned back to the five guards and hoped that they would listen to your instruction, given that you were technically not a ranking member of the palace.

“You three, escort him to the dungeons so he may wait out proper punishment for his negligence. He may not have thought of the safety of the maids, but an assassin got in here regardless and could have very well gone for our emperors.” Your words were met with action. They followed your instructions and seized the head guard. He tried to plead and beg his case, but you ignored it as he was dragged out of the room. There was one final guard who stood standing in front of you and the twins.

“What is your name?” You asked the man. He was older than the other guards, coming up on the precipice of life if the white hairs he sported were any indication.

“Theocles, my lady.” He answered.

“I thank you, Theocles. Without your quick acting to come to my aid I would likely be dead.” At the mention of your possible death, the twins that stood at both of your sides tensed.

“I am happy to be of service, my lady,” He smiled gently and for a brief moment it reminded you of the warm welcoming face of a grandfather.

“We thank you as well, Theocles, for saving our lady,” Geta spoke up. Caracalla was still nerved beside you, unable to speak as he recovered from his outburst. His hands gripped your right hand as if clinging to your presence. The weight of what nearly happened to you was only now completely sinking in.

“I am simply a servant of the empire, Caesar. I humbly apologize for our negligence. The intruder should have never made it past the gates.” He seemed genuinely upset at this incident, having taken pride in his work.

“Yes, it never should have happened,” Caracalla muttered angrily. His gaze stayed locked on your hand as he drew shapes onto your palm.

“You are dismissed for the day to recuperate from your efforts,” Geta said. Theocles nodded and bowed before walking out of the room and shutting the doors after him. It left the three of you alone. Caracalla looked over your face again before moving closer and burying his head in your chest. Geta stood behind you with his chin on your shoulder.

There was nothing but silence for a few minutes. The weight of tension in the room slowly lowered. You could hear nothing but their calm and steady breaths.

“You will be guarded every hour,” Geta mumbled as his lips brushed over your neck, “No less than ten praetorians.”

“Ten?” You were shocked by the proposition. Geta’s arms that were wrapped around your waist, just above Caracalla’s arms, tightened.

“A whole legion,” Caracalla mumbled into the skin of your chest.

“Surely they have more duties in the city,” You reasoned, “Ten is too much.”

Geta scoffed, “Ten is the minimum.” You felt that there may be an argument brewing. Ten guards was far too much and you could already feel how stifling that would be. You had gone your whole life without a single guard, not even when traversing the streets of Rome. Yet, your change of position has altered your life significantly. Still, you did not wish to be suffocated by protection.

“Five,” You proposed. While five still felt extreme to you, it would be enough to calm their worries about your safety.

“Ten.” Caracalla backed up his brother.

“Five.” You were not willing to go up any further.

“Nine,” Geta lifted his chin from your shoulder to rest his forehead against your temple. Caracalla’s hands moved under a slip in the fabric of your clothing, his hands trailing over the bare skin of your side. You could already tell that they were trying to distract you to get their way – a tactic they often employed.

You would not back down.

“Five.” You repeated. Geta let out a small huff.

“Seven.” Caracalla reasoned. His hands moved to brush just above your ass. You grabbed them and moved them up further, unwilling to compromise.

“Five.” The tone of finality in your voice made them halt their movements. It was a tense standoff, but one you knew you would win. If there was one thing that challenged their selfish tendencies, it would be their need for validation from you.

After a few moments, they both relented.

“Five it is then,” Geta answered.

You should have known that Geta and Caracalla would become more paranoid. It was inevitable. What started as five guards gradually morphed into twenty over two months. Five surrounded you at all times, escorting you wherever you wished to go. The other fifteen blended in the background. They were at a distance, acting as though they were not watching over you, but they were and you could tell.

Other measures were drawn up to protect you. On your trips to the market, there would be a collective of guards patrolling the streets more heavily than normal – all under the guise of collecting taxes from stall owners. You knew it was specific instructions from Geta and Caracalla, but chose to not say anything. You thought it would end eventually, but had been wrong.

It all came to a head one afternoon as you walked about the gardens. The heavy clanging of Theocles’ armour disturbed the gentle chatter of birds that flew from fruit tree to fruit tree. It was a grating sound, but it compounded more when you were able to tune into the sounds of other guards a few paces behind Theocles. The day after your attack, he had been named as your personal guard.

It was the only benefit to your situation that was starting to feel more like imprisonment. Theocles was like a grandfather, protective but funny. He took the job seriously but still relaxed when he needed to in order to cheer you up. However, on this day, you had become particularly irritated.

You halted, which was met by the guards behind you also stopping. You took large breaths to calm yourself before turning around.

“Theocles,” You spoke, “Do you know where the emperors are?”

“To my knowledge, they are in their study, my lady,” He answered. You nodded gratefully and changed directions from where you had originally been walking.

You moved with a purpose through the halls of the palace, your anger brewing. This place was once a paradise for you, where you could spend your days relaxing and relishing in the company of your lovers. Now, it had become nothing but a gilded cage that shrunk each day, moving to suffocate you.

The doors to their study came into view and you stopped to speak to your guards.

“You are to stay out here.” You instructed.

“My lady, we are instructed to never let you leave from our sight,” Theocles answered.

“Believe me, with my anger right now, nobody should wish to cross me. Despite that, the emperors would protect me from anything. Now, do you wish to be present in what will likely be a very uncomfortable conversation for you to witness?” You crossed your arms and tapped your right foot against the stone flooring as you waited for an answer.

After a momentary pause, Theocles answered, “We shall wait for you, my lady.”

You nodded before he opened the door for you to walk in, closing it when you got in. The emperor's study was an open room with floor-to-ceiling shelves full of carved bronze records, waxed tablets, and sheets of papyrus. There were two desks placed a few feet away from the other with Geta and Caracalla staring down at their work. Geta’s desk was clean and organized, while Caracalla’s represented the whirlwind of his personality.

When you walked in, they did not look up at you. Dondas, who was perched on Caracalla’s desk eating some pieces of fruit spotted you and chittered in delight. He jumped off of the desk and ran to you, crawling up your leg and torso to perch on your shoulder. For a brief moment, his presence cheered your angered thoughts.

Caracalla looked up when his friend left and his face lit up upon seeing you.

“My love,” He spoke, which gained Geta’s attention and he too looked up to see you. However, both their smiles faltered slightly upon seeing the grim look on your face. You scratched Dondas’ chin and placed him on a cushy chair so he would not have to be near you when you inevitably started to shout.

“I’ve had enough.” You said.

“Enough?” Geta asked.

“Enough of the constant watch. I know you wish to protect me but there is a limit to what a person can endure.” You walked up to stand in front of their desks.

“It is for your own good–” Caracalla began to reason but you scoffed to interrupt him.

“My own good? It has been two months, yet every day there is something new. Another guard, more patrols, you have even gotten a fourth poison tester for my food! As if one was not enough!” You threw your arms out as if that would help to enunciate your words. The frustration you had been feeling for weeks had boiled over into an explosive reactive mess.

“All to keep you safe,” Geta stood from his chair, moved to you and reached out to wrap you in his arms. You backed away from his hold. You would not allow any of them to try and sugar their words to get you to accept the situation.

“Do you not think I haven’t noticed the other fifteen guards that are secretly following me? One does not need to be a master of arithmetic to see that is well above the ten you tried to enforce in the first place!” You argued. Caracalla and Geta exchanged a look, finally understanding that you caught on to their attempt to secretly go against their word on the original agreement of five guards.

“Darling, we are sorry for going behind your back, but your safety is our priority. Do you think that assassin was only a one-time event?” Geta asked. Your mouth closed at that and you mulled over his words. It had been a brewing fear that you refused to admit.

If you were to admit it to yourself, to even say it aloud, it would be real. You were no fool. You understood the threat of this city, especially towards the emperors, but you thought that you would not matter. In the eyes of the court, you were just a lover to them and nothing more.

“I just thought that I would not matter. I do not come from a known family or the level of society you were raised in. Why bother with me?”

Caracalla let out a giggle as he rose from his chair to approach where you stood. He was not laughing at you, but rather the absurdity of your words.

“Why bother with you?” He mimicked your question, “You are our most precious jewel. That is why you must be protected at all costs.” His hands tugged at the loose sleeve of your dress.

“But to the extent that you have gone to…” Your voice trailed off.

“There can be no threats to our empress,” Geta spoke as he wrapped an arm around your waist. You could feel the cold of his rings through the thin silk fabric. That did not shock you nearly as much as how he addressed you.

Empress…

“Empress?” You scolded, “This is not a joking conversation. I am being serious.”

“We are as well,” Caracalla answered. His face lost all the traces of his previous amusement. You turned to Geta and saw nothing but sincerity. It felt… odd.

“What?” You questioned.

The two men exchanged a glance. In it, you could see they were communicating as if they had already had this conversation. Geta guided you towards his chair and had you sit down. He began to rifle through the drawers of his desk while Caracalla perched on one of the armrests. His fingers moved through your hair, brushing loose strands to go behind your ear.

“Now may not be the most appropriate time, but we realize that it cannot be held off any longer,” Caracalla spoke to you in a hushed, calm tone.

Geta finally found whatever he was looking for and pulled out a gold box from the desk. He turned to you and leaned against the desk. He carefully opened the box, exposing a large, intricately made gold ring adorned with large jewels. You stared at it for a moment, fully understanding what they were speaking about. Your body felt like it shut down, unable to comprehend it.

Your mouth opened and closed multiple times as your mind was unable to come up with any response. You could not help but feel as though it was not real.

“Is this your way of distracting from the reason I originally came here? If so, I must admit it is undeniably cruel.” You shifted in the chair as if you were going to move, but Caracalla gently pushed back on your shoulders to keep you in place.

“My love,” Geta got down on both knees in front of you, followed by his brother, “We are serious.”

“Be our empress?” Caracalla questioned. Your chest tightened, completely transfixed by looking back and forth between their eyes.

“The senate… the people… they already whisper things…” There had been much disapproval of your relationship with the emperors. When the court saw that it became more serious than a concubine relationship, whispers spread of negativity – especially due to your lack of privileged upbringing.

“Let them talk. They do not exist now. It matters what you want.” Geta reassured you. His grip on the box tightened as if he was losing control of the situation; losing hope for a positive answer.

“I shall have more freedom and go back to five guards.” You negotiated. Both of their eyes lit up; you had given them an answer.

“You are agreeing?” Caracalla asked.

“I also wish for more opportunities to traverse the merchant stalls.” You added.

“It is a yes?” Geta asked.

Your face broke into a large grin and you nodded excitedly, “Of course, it is a yes.” Both of them seemed to let out the breaths they were holding. Caracalla instantly moved up, cupping your face with both of his hands and capturing your lips in a heated kiss. His eagerness and excitement shot through his body, being expressed through giddy jolts of his movement.

You could feel Geta put the ring on your finger, his hands incredibly warm compared to the coolness of the metal. When Caracalla pulled away, you were met with equal fervour of a kiss from Geta. It was possessive but also gentle in a strange, uniquely his, way.

When he pulled back, you spoke, “Do not forget the conditions I have set. I am tired of feeling like a prisoner here.”

“No more then. You will not be a caged bird in your own home.” Geta reasoned. His brother agreed, nodding his head feverishly. Both of them were caught up in the moment, too happy to particularly care about anything but you.

The atmosphere in the room had changed from an intense standoff to a joyous mood. You had not ever expected this outcome given your initial plan, but it was more than welcome.

It was with great surprise to Theocles, your other guards, and servants, that you later walked out of that room with both of the emperors and a rather large ring adorning your finger.

I love these freaky gingers.

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fawninthesnow · 2 months ago

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𝐀𝐝𝐨𝐫𝐞: 1 | Maternal! figure | Caracalla & Geta

Summary: You visit the young princes in the palace.

Warnings: Fluff, (slight) angst

Work count: 400~

a/n: Keep in mind they are around 14-16 here and orphaned already. After looking through some deleted scenes from the script, I found that all the boys want is to be adopted and loved. Here is something short for that with the holidays and all.

More on my Master list! + follow & like pls

Caracalla hovered over his brother's slumbering form in bed and gently shook his arm. “Is she coming?” The young man nudged him harder. “Are you awake?”

Geta groaned and turned over. “I am now.”

“Is she coming?”

“She said she would, but I am unsure.” He groaned in the dark of his bedroom. He reached for a candle, “You need to go back to bed. Come on.” Caracalla trailed behind his brother as they made their way down the hall. A noise emanating from the emperor’s foyer piqued their interest. The two boys cautiously approached the source of the sound.

You stood in front of the fire, removing the fur coat from your back. “Yes, that would be perfect.” You replied as a servant offered tea. “Are the boys asleep?” The two peeked into the room from the corridor.

“Yes, the princes are still in their beds.”

“She is here early.” Caracalla whispered with a giggle.

“I can hear you two.” Your voice was rich and velvety as you called the two out. The two brothers stepped out from the shadow of the pillars. “Come here.”

****

You held Geta to your bosom as Caracalla lay on your lap. Your fingertips buried in the eldest son’s hair; your opposite hand rubbed Caracalla’s back. “They treat us like we are our father.” Geta murmured.

“The people of Rome should be grateful for you two.” Caracalla turned up, staring at you. “Rome, she will soon see, my boys.”

Geta closed his eyes, breathing in the sweet aroma of lilies and vanilla that surrounded you. Your skin was smooth and sun-kissed, reminiscent of freshly harvested honey. Caracalla nestled against your thigh, soaking in the warmth emanating from you. “The people are now celebrating with their families.”

“Yes, the winter solstice.” Caracalla leaned close, speaking softly into your clothing. Meanwhile, his brother stepped outside onto the open veranda, gazing down at the bustling city square below. The square was alive with people—some joyful, some inebriated, and others lost in dance.

“You both used to celebrate with your parents, yes?” The two went silent. Your fingertips cupped Caracalla’s face. “Well, you can celebrate with me.” Geta accepted your soft gaze finally, looking into your eyes. “Ah, I nearly forgot. I brought gifts from home!” You stood and Caracalla followed you.

From your trunk, you take out a few velvet boxes. “I, I have been reading your…your letter at night.” Caracalla fished for a worn paper from his robe.

“Aren’t you cute…” You present the two of them with a variety of gifts. “I have missed you both so much.”

Part 2 <3 Happy holidays, everyone!!

More on my Master list!

follow & like pls

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haylee-e · 1 month ago

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who’s dick do i gotta suck to get more fred hechinger fics on this app, im getting desperate y’all

#gladiator 2 #emperor caracalla #caracalla #caracalla x reader #fred hechinger #fred hechinger imagine #fred hechinger x reader #joseph quinn #emperor geta #marcus acacius #pedro pascal #paul mescal

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bel0ved-heretic · 4 months ago

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Imagine the dialogue of this image Geta talking to Caracalla

Geta: How many times have I told you that you can't have everything you want, especially my future empress

Caracalla: But we can take turns...

Geta: She will be mine alone and no one else's

hormones on edge for next month

#gladiator 2 #joseph quinn #emperor caracalla #emperor geta #emperor geta x reader #geta x reader #geta imagine #geta x you #emperor geta x you

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storiesaplenty · 3 months ago

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Miscellaneous Masterlist

Imagine if you will, the two Emperors are vying for your attention.

They rained gifts after gifts upon you, from fabrics, to jewels.

They have thrown parties in your honour.

But you just can't decide between the two, and you tell them.

Since the two have shared their whole lives, they end up arguing between themselves about who deserved your hand.

But you remind them that you can be with both, as you kiss each of them.

That night was the first night you slept with the both of them.

Each of them taking turns to fuck you.

Seeing who can make you cum the most.

From eating you out, to fingering you.

You finally passed out while Geta was fucking you.

You would spend each day with one of them between your legs.

Or you would be riding them on their throne as the other one watched, until one day you had a plan.

"I want both of you in me." You told them.

"How?" Questioned Emperor Caracalla.

"Let me show you."

You know how to prepare for this as you talked to one of the many whores that you know personally from growing up on the streets of Rome.

Emperor Caracalla was below you, and Emperor Geta was behind you, making you gasp at how full you are.

How much they are stretching out your poor, abuses pussy.

Fucking you at different paces.

But you didn't care.

Not when it feels like they are truly are Gods among men, as they pull orgasm after orgasm from your poor body.

Emperor Geta cums first, his hips rutting against your ass as he fills you.

Emperor Caracalla laughs at his brother finishing first, before he grips your hips tight and moaning your name as you cums.

Him fucking up into you, forcing your combined juices to leave your body as he does.

You collapse on top of Caracalla, him rubbing your back as they both leave your body.

"Are you alright?" Geta asked, as they both looked concerned, and they never are concerned about anyone.

"Mmmm, let's do it again, but after we nap." You told them, already falling asleep.

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tightjeansjavi · 2 months ago

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I am but a pawn

#emperor caracalla #fred hechinger #gladiator ii #emperor Caracalla moodboard #emperor caracalla imagine

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gay-dorito-dust · 2 months ago

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Based off of an interview where Fred said that Geta and Caracalla just have a need to be held/ be shown affection

Geta likes to think he’s above such tender touches but the moment you caress his cheeks with your fingers before cupping them between your palms, warm and comforting.

He melts and he clings onto this touch for the rest of his life. He’s chasing after it even when your pulling away, his hands tightly grip your wrists but not tight enough to hurt, as he brought your hands back to his cheeks, and lets out a sigh of relief as he closes his eyes to memorise the feel of your skin against his.

This man might as well be rubbing his cheeks against your hands, so much that you’d think he would soon purr like a cat after a while.

Seriously this man will try to fight against the feeling of laying his head on your chest just to listen to your heartbeat, gripping onto the fabric of your bed wear as though you would fade between his fingertips. Geta hates and despises being weak but you’re both alone in your chambers, there was no need to put on for an audience that is now long asleep in their beds.

An emperor is not meant to look weak, to look as though he had an Achilles heel, he was meant to come across as a man closer to the gods then the people he ruled over; a man who’s entire clothing was to make him look like he was on the ascent to godhood. And an emperor certainly shouldn’t be seen laying within the arms of his beloved, silent tears streaming down his face as he realises just how deprived of touch he really was that he’s crumbling the second he’s given it.

Due to his illness the reaction he has towards being held can change within the span of a second.

He could be melting in your hand, then the next he’s biting it with the intention of making you bleed. Caracalla could even be the one to initiate the touch first before suddenly your back is littered is bloodied scratches, before he’s back to cuddling up to you, metaphorically licking your wounds with he looked at you with eyes full of happiness yet uttermost chaos simultaneously.

His illness confuses your tender touches for something much more sinister, so it’s best not to hold and or touch him while he was going through one of those moments where his illness got the better of him, not unless it’s to stop him from causing harm to you or unto himself in the process.

Touch was something Caracalla wanted more then anything, so when he got it he was far more obsessive over it, wanting no one else to experience your touch but himself and if anyone did they would be dealt with bloody and swiftly.

Yet once he is calm and his face is buried deep again your chest, poetically moulding himself into you so that you’d be pretty much cradling his body against yours. His breathing was even and he was a peace for the first time that night as you ran your hand through his hair and down his back, watching over him so that his rest would remain undisturbed by any means necessary. It was the least he deservedx

#geta x reader #geta x you #Geta imagines #Geta imagine #emperor geta x reader #emperor geta x you #emperor geta x y/n #emperor geta imagines #emperor geta imagine #caracalla x reader #caracalla x you #Caracalla imagine #Caracalla imagines #emperor caracalla x reader #emperor caracalla x you #emperor Caracalla imagine #emperor Caracalla imagines

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multific · 2 months ago

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All Real

Emperor Caracalla x Reader

Summary: Driven by madness and manipulated by Macrinus, with a blade in his hand, Caracalla heads to Geta but he finds you instead.

"My Love? What are you doing?" you asked with a worried tone as you noticed the blade in his hand.

"I'm going to kill him. Where is he?"

"Why would you?" but just as you asked you noticed a shadow behind him. "Macrinus... I always knew it."

"She must be sleeping with your brother." you heard him whisper to Caracalla.

His eyes looked foggy and filled with tears. It worried you.

"Is it true?!" Caracalla yelled.

"If you believe his words, you might as well kill me. I have been nothing but loyal to you, My Love. I have always been there for you and I will continue even if you kill me right now but please I have to ask you to come back to me and realise what is happening here. You are being manipulated." you begged but neither of you moved.

"You lie! You love him!" his hands frailed as he cried and yelled.

"You own my heart and soul. I belong to you, Caracalla. Please, My Love, put the knife down."

Caracalla's eyes filled with fresh tears but so did yours.

"Please." you begged with a whisper.

Your sweet voice seemed to break the curse he was under as he turned and stabbed Macrinus in the neck. It all happened so fast.

You watched as he looked at his shaking hands.

"Wife, I'm so sorry. He... His words- He manipulated me. Oh, look what I have done." his hand reached out to you. Silently begging you to forgive him.

You took a step towards him and allowed him to hug you.

"I told you to always remember when you feel like you are losing it." you reached up and cupped his cheek, your thumb cleaning his tears. "I know Geta threw a drink at you and yelled at you, My Love. But killing him will not fix it all. I'm here to help you."

"I'm sorry." he said it again.

This is when Geta bursts into the room.

"What happened here?" he asked as he looked at the two of you with worry filled eyes.

"Macrinus attacked me. Caracalla saved me." you explained.

"I will take care of this, go and rest." Geta said.

The two of you retired to your chambers.

"Why didn't you tell him?" your husband asked.

"He doesn't need to know."

"Do you hide things from me too? Things I don't need to know?"

"Of course not. You are my beloved Husband. I do not have anything to hide from you." you took a deep breath before looking at Caracalla. "I won't tell Geta what your true intentions were today because it will not achieve anything but hate. Tomorrow I will speak to the people in hopes of calming them. It will ease your mind as well as Geta's."

"What will you say?"

"I will tell them Lucilla sent Macrinus to kill me. The people will be on our side again."

"I didn't know my wife lied so much."

"To protect you? I would kill. I would lie to the Gods themselves because I love you."

"I'm sorry for doubting you."

"It wasn't you. It was Macrinus playing with your mind. I'm glad he's dead."

"You never liked him."

"But I love you." you said and just as the people outside quieted down, Caracalla embraced you in a feverish kiss.

The two of you spent a night of passion allowing your bodies to become one.

While it was true, you might lie, but you never lied to him. You never faked your love for him.

It was all real.

Gladiator II Collection

Taglist:

@castellandiangelo @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @manduse @jacalineiscomingforyou

@mandoloriancookie @deliciousfestsalad @lilliumrorum @asgards-princess-of-mischief

@fallout-girl219 @dracaryxzs @snowtargaryen @brevlada24

@mel-vaz @akamitrani @ange-olras @nicholaschavezslut69

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

/YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO TRANSLATE, TO STEAL OR TO REPOST ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/

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kabuki-writes · 2 months ago

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Since the emperors canonically have mommy issues. What do you think if their dear empress gets pregnant??? 👀👀👀

First of all: Hell yes! THOSE EMPERORS HAVE SERIOUS MOMMY ISSUES! Like holy Jupiter!

I mean we don't really know what happened to their mother according to GII, but since we get a hint on their father being violent towards his children and the mother not being present in the movie, i personally have the headcanon that she either died in childbed or during the twin's early youth. A lot of Roman Emperors and Generals took their sons with them on war campaigns, to train them in the ways of military - a good example for this is Caligula, who accompanied his father Germanicus in Germania and got the name "Caligula" (latin for "tiny soldier boots") from the Legionaries. Given that Septimius Severus was a military man himself, i could imagine him taking Geta and Caracalla with him. And that meant quite a rough childhood for them, especially for Caracalla, whom i headcanon to be the "least favorite son" due to him being mentally ill. So the twins don't really know motherly love or someone, who deeply cares for them in a way that a mother would do - something they will seek in one way or another later in life.

Before i digress too quickly.. what do i think about them being confronted by the Empress' pregnancy? First of all, i will not spoiler anything for the fic, so this is my general headcanon only:

I think Geta would be very overwhelmed at first, but since i headcanon a breeding kink for that man, he will quickly be super happy about the news and do ANYTHING to pamper and protect his Empress. And i think that he would be a good father actually. I mean, he kinda had to protect his twin brother throughout their youth and he did it with brotherly love. He had witnessed firsthand the terrible nature of his own father and therefore i would not say that he traps into the same personality. Maybe a child would even ground him a little bit more?

With Caracalla... oof. He would be super excited of the news, always asking about the pregnancy as well as he would advise all the servants to care about the Empress 24/7. But let's face it, this man is very mentally unstable, and speaking realistically here, he is not going to be the best father material. Not because he would get agressive towards his child or something, but because he is kind of a child himself. He would kinda care for a baby the same way he would for Dondus, but that is a monkey! Also he would quickly lose his patience or be bored by the way that a baby is not able to do much stuff, which results in him giving it into the hands of handmaidens very quickly. Also he NEEDS attention all the time, having a baby around that needs the Empress' full attention, it could end up in him getting frustrated about this as well.

#kabuki answers #emperor geta #emperor caracalla #gladiator ii imagine #gladiator ii #gladiator 2 #fred hechinger #joseph quinn #caracalla x reader #geta x reader

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megalony · 27 days ago

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Heir To Rome

This is a new Emperor Geta imagine that I had an idea for, and I have a second part complete and waiting to post soon.

I hope you will all like it, feedback is always appreciated.

Main Masterlist

Part 2

Summary: All of Rome rejoice at the news of (Y/n)'s pregnancy, especially Geta. And he doesn't care for tradition or praying for a son; all he cares about is (Y/n).

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(Y/n) could feel her stomach starting to churn. It was as if her insides had knotted themselves up into one large jumble that would never be able to be undone.

A grimace flooded her face and one arm bound around her middle in an attempt to alleviate the discomfort and hold herself together so no one noticed she wasn't her usual self.

It took most of her energy to try and force a smile onto her features when she heard the crowds begin to cheer. She hadn't been focusing on the games since they arrived. She felt bad. She was supposed to be supporting both Emperors and engaging in the games and taking an interest and instead, (Y/n) was sure the crowds would notice how distant and unamused she looked. But it wasn't as if she could help it.

She didn't feel well and trying to put her focus into watching men brutally slay one another and endanger animals wasn't something she felt she could do right now.

Moving her other hand, (Y/n) brushed her fingertips against her flushed temple and tried to tilt her head down towards the arm rest of her chair to hide her plagued expression. She pressed her temple further into her cold hand while her elbow dug down into the arm rest and she leaned towards the left, subconsciously leaning towards her husband in the process.

One leg crossed over the other and she curled slightly in her seat. (Y/n) didn't care if curling towards the left like this made her seem inconsiderate or rude to the people. She didn't care if it looked like she was turning away from them, she would rather be leaning towards Geta and hiding herself away than have them think she was crude or ignorant.

Maybe coming to the games hadn't been such a good idea after all, but (Y/n) hadn't felt able to say no. Whenever Geta asked her to accompany him to the games, she always ended up agreeing. It was such a thrill to see both Emperors enamoured by the games and betting on who would be the victor. And whenever Geta was given the opportunity to decide the fate of the gladiators, it made (Y/n) weak at the knees.

Seeing him stood there, smiling that small but knowing smile with that look of ultimate control and power in his eyes. There was something satisfying about his smirk and that glint in his eyes and seeing him stand to give his decision.

And on some occasions, Geta had taken to looking towards (Y/n) for her to make the decision for him. If she wanted him to spare someone, he would always relent and silently give the order to spare a life. It was one of the reasons why the people had taken to (Y/n) so quickly, they saw how kind and fair she was and how she calmed Geta down and helped him to see reason.

She hadn't realised she closed her eyes until she felt Geta's fingers softly gliding up and down her arm and she looked up to see him holding a glass of wine out towards her.

With a shake of her head, (Y/n) leaned closer to the edge of her seat until she could lay her head on Geta's shoulder and curl one hand around his exposed bicep. She nuzzled her cheek into the cloth of his robes as a shiver coursed through her when the crowd cheered and the unmistakeable scream of a life ending coursed through the air.

She felt the way Geta's frame rattled when he slammed the glass down on the table. Clearly the victor wasn't the one he had betted on winning.

His fingers began to drum against the arm rest, but when he looked back down at his wife, he furrowed his brows and leaned in close.

"Okay?" He murmured quietly against the top of her head, speaking into her hair while he tore his gaze away from the scene ahead of them. The maimed gladiator was being dragged away while the victor was congratulated and a new set of fighters were riled up to be brought in.

"Hm." Lying to Geta didn't seem like a good idea, but she didn't want to tell him how horrid she felt and risk ruining the games.

She might have to tell him she wanted to go for a walk soon so he and Caracalla could continue the games and she could go and wallow in discomfort in privacy. (Y/n) didn't want to lower the mood.

Her lips attached to the side of Geta's neck and she tried to take slow, calming breaths while she felt him lean his head on top of hers and inch closer to her side. She was sure her touch made a smile filter across his face and she felt his hand move to glide up and down her arm while they waited for the next game to begin.

"Ah, this one is a rogue."

Geta's voice caused (Y/n) to turn her head a little so her cheek was still against his shoulder but she could just about see down into the main arena. She wasn't sure she recognised the Gladiator, but then again, she didn't recognise most of them unless they had done something horribly wrong or Geta had pointed them out a few times before.

The gladiator did look rather trecherous with broken teeth on display beneath a snarl, dirt and muck covering almost every inch of his skin and his head shaved. Although (Y/n) wasn't sure whether Geta's comment implied he had bet for this gladiator to live or die. She guessed he had bet for him to live, this seemed like the kind of man who would stoop low to survive.

When the first cut was inflicted, (Y/n) felt Geta sit forward in his seat and she lifted her head so her chin was perched on his shoulder rather than her cheek.

Her left hand stayed curled around his arm and the action was soothing to Geta, for he moved his right arm so it was stretched across (Y/n)'s front and his hand was curled tightly around her thigh. He began absentmindedly stroking his thumb across the inside of her thigh while he leaned forward and curled his other hand into a fist which slammed down on the arm rest.

His lips curled into a savage grin as he watched the rogue take another good hit at his opponent, flashing streaks of blood across the sand.

(Y/n) was sure she could hear Caracalla chanting "Again, again!" as he sat forward and grinned.

She knew she shouldn't look, (Y/n) knew looking wouldn't make her feel any better.

Blood and guts was never something that made (Y/n) squeamish. She had seen the games over the years, she had been exposed to the violence they displayed and it bothered her conscience but never twisted her stomach or made her feel queasy.

Seeing a limb drop to the floor did indeed make (Y/n) feel queasy and worse for wear. She could feel a lump forming in her throat as she closed her eyes to try and remain calm and in control of her body.

Why was she feeling so wretched these last few days? Why did she have to feel so uneasy and sick now when they were supposed to be enjoying the games? This was supposed to be a celebration, a day of spectating and joyeous occasion. Feeling this down and under the weather only dampened the mood for everyone especially if (Y/n) told Geta how she felt.

She could feel a headache forming behind her eyes that could barely stay open even when she shifted her attention to focus on Geta rather than the scene at hand.

The sight of both geta and Caracalla lunging forward towards the balcony was a sight that should have made (Y/n)'s heart soar. It should have enlightened her to see her brother in law leaning over like he was about to jump into the arena himself to show them how it was done. She should have smiled with love and affection when she watched Geta lean his hip against the balcony and place his ring-clad hands down on the smooth marble to peer down for a better view.

The sight should have made her heart soar and brought a smile of endearment to her face. But the sight didn't move (Y/n) as much as the knots and tension in her stomach did. She wasn't sure whether she felt like she was going to be sick or melt into a puddle and neither option was appealing.

"Geta…"

(Y/n) wasn't sure what she wanted or even what she was trying to say, but she knew sitting here for much longer wasn't an option. She would rather be somewhere quiet and private if she was going to be sick. She didn't want people to observe her. But she knew if she tried to leave the colosseum without so much as telling her husband why, he wouldn't be impressed and would follow her immediately.

Her trembling hands moved to the armrests so she could push herself up from her seat, but standing up made (Y/n) lose her sense of balance.

Her head swayed from left to right and her eyes couldn't keep in focus as she felt her stomach give an awful twist. She reached her right hand down for Caracalla's chair that she tried to use as leverage to stay upright as she stepped closer to Geta.

A shudder tore through Geta when he felt a heavy hand rest on the back of his shoulder and he turned his head to look over his shoulder. But his eyes barely looked up and down his wife before she stumbled. He had no chance to ask why she had such a grave expression or why she wouldn't look at him.

He felt her hand slip from his shoulder and the whites of her eyes became visible as her knees bent and her body surged forwards.

A gasp broke free from Geta's lips and his hands grappled to grab his wife while his body jerked to the left to move in front of her. He could just foresee her head slamming into the marble balcony and spilling blood down to the arena floor.

It was hard to grab (Y/n) when they were both at a wrong angle, but Geta managed to curl his right arm around her waist and his left hand clamped on the back of her neck, gripping her by the scruff of her hair so her head bashed into his chest rather than the marble.

The force knocked him back and he had to plant both feet firmly on the floor so neither or both of them didn't fall over the edge.

He could hear the gasps of the crowds and he could see the gladiators pausing their attacks out the corner of his eye. It made him growl. He didn't want people spectating his wife, especially when she clearly wasn't well.

"Oh dear." Caracalla's hand fell to Geta's shoulder while his eyes roamed his sister in law to try and see what the problem was and why she had seemingly collapsed.

With a grunt, Geta pushed forward off the balcony and tried to grapple his arms around his wife a bit better. He didn't need to look to know she had passed out. He felt all the control fade out of her limbs the moment her weight fell onto him. There was nothing but Geta stopping her from crumbling to the floor like a broken piece of art.

It didn't take much to loop his arm beneath her knees and lift her frame up into his arms and he was glad when one of the Generals kindly leaned forward to nudge (Y/n)'s head onto his arm. It wouldn't look too good if her head hung limply over the back of Geta's arm like she had been slain.

"Move. Move." The word spat past Geta's lips while his expression turned to steel.

His lips pressed together into a thin line, his nose crinkled and his eyes narrowed as he weaved between the chairs, carrying his wife in his arms. Clearly she wasn't well, and he needed to take her somewhere private and fetch a healer.

(Y/n) tried her best to steel the shaking in her hands while she unclasped the golden cuff from her wrist. The jewellery was starting to make her sweat, and her necklaces had already been removed that had become tangled when Geta and the guards brought her back to the palace.

She took a deep breath to regulate her system again and pushed up from the sofa, despite the elderly gentleman healer who tried his best to urge her to sit back down.

"Please don't fuss and fetch the Emperor, please." She wasn't keen on healers. They were all kindly enough, but being examined and poked and prodded was never an easy thing, especially by a stranger.

She wasn't going to faint again, despite the news the healer had just given her. She was fine, and she needed to talk to Geta who was somewhere outside- she hoped.

Her hands knitted in her hair and tried to untangle the few knots that had formed in the mayhem of this mornings antics. She could feel the knots unfolding between her fingers, although her hair was still askew and somewhat resembled a birds nest at the back. She could feel it.

She could feel her energy dwindling once again when the door opened and her eyes set on Geta. He raged into the room like a sand storm. Sparks of gold glittering on the walls from how the light caught the crown nestled into his hair and the jewels cladding his fingers and the chains around his neck. He was like a diamond refracting light in all angles.

Her lips tried to curve into a smile while she eased back down into the sofa, it would be easier to sit than to waste energy trying to stand.

One leg crossed over the other while she slouched back against the cushion and tilted her head over the back of the sofa. But she made sure to keep her eyes on her husband, watching the way he stormed towards her with that certain look in his eyes that could go one of two ways, it could mellow and cool or ignite and explode.

Geta took a seat beside her on the sofa and one hand instantly curled around her thigh while the other cupped the side of her neck. He brushed his thumb across her jaw and over the expanse of her lower lip while he tilted her head back. Allowing him a better view so he could assess her and see for himself whether she was alright or not.

He hadn't quite believed the healer when he said that the Empress was much better and back to her usual self. Geta knew collapsing like that signified that there was something wrong. He had never known his wife to faint before, he had seen her when she was unwell or sick and feverish, but she hadn't collapsed out of nowhere like that before.

"Are you alright?" His thumb continued to trace her lip and jaw and he leaned in closer with scrutinising eyes that made (Y/n) feel like she was melting before him.

"I'm fine now," (Y/n) reached her hand up to cup Geta's wrist while she inclined her head to the side to lean into his touch. She found herself smiling when Geta hummed like he didn't truly believe her and his eyes showed he was still scrutinising her for any sign of unwellness or any marks or flushed skin. A simple sign that meant he could grab that healer and threaten him to find out what was truly wrong with his Empress.

She pushed forward until she was close enough to Geta that she could feel his breaths mingling with hers and his lips were almost touching hers. She could feel his parted lips inching closer to hers and how he ran his tongue along his lower lip as if in anticipation.

"But the healer did find something,"

"What?" There was a rather dangerous tone to Geta's voice that made (Y/n) breathless.

His voice was rugged and dangerous. His tone implied if there was the slightest thing wrong, Geta would see all of Rome burn in an effort to restore his Empress to health again. Geta would do anything for (Y/n); she and Caracalla were the only weaknesses he had.

If there was something wrong with (Y/n) that the healers couldn't dissipate then Geta would go to the Gods. He would pilgrimage, he would pray and go to the necessary temples in order to make the Gods heed his prayers and keep (Y/n) in health. Geta couldn't lose her. If he lost her or his twin then he himself would fall to his demise within a heartbeat.

"What did he find?"

Geta was surprised by the smile that lit up (Y/n)'s features; why was she smiling if the healer had found some sort of anomaly?

His eyes narrowed but he quickly looked down when he felt (Y/n)'s free hand move to curl around his wrist that was resting on her thigh. He watched with burning intensity as she unlatched his hand from her thigh but when she pressed his palm down on her abdomen, his eyes narrowed.

The message didn't get through for a heartbeat, until he realised exactly where she had moved his hand and why she was smiling and what she could be so happy about when they had previously thought she had been ill.

She was pregnant.

A gasp caught in the back of (Y/n)'s throat when both Geta's hands were suddenly cupping either side of her face and his lips crashed onto hers with wavering abandon. He kissed her so fiercely that he pushed her back into the sofa and his chest crushed down on hers in the best possible way.

His nails were almost piercing through into her skin with how tightly he was caressing her and she moved her hands to his upper biceps to steady herself and find a way to ground herself.

She felt him whispering "A baby," between feverish kisses that stole every ounce of air from her lungs and left her lips feeling swollen and bruised.

This was the only kind of news a healer could give which would make (Y/n) feel relieved and thrilled at the same time. She had been nervous until the healer smiled and gently broke the news. This was what they wanted. This was going to expand their family, their love, and secure Geta's place as Emperor. An heir meant leaving a legacy behind, but that also meant that people would desire (Y/n) to have a boy.

A boy meant an heir to train to be Emperor, someone to educate and learn and pass the crown down to. A girl meant they would have to look for alliances with neighbouring countries, that they would have to find a suitable heir to marry a daughter to.

But (Y/n) didn't want to think of it that way. She didn't want to think of this as providing Rome with an heir, because that wasn't her first thought. This was her and Geta having a child. This would be someone to love, someone to nurture, a piece of them to watch over and guide.

"We're having a child."

***

A smile fluttered across (Y/n)'s lips as the memory flooded her mind and those words circled on repeat in her head.

'We're having a child.' She could still hear those words in Geta's sweet tone from a memory which had quickly become one of (Y/n)'s most favoured memories.

Her head angled to one side and a fondness welled up inside her as she looked down and began to trace her hands across her bump. Her fingers glided up and down her stomach over her gown while she waited to see if she would feel some movement or if the baby was asleep for the night.

It wouldn't be long now.

The midwife had estimated that it would only be another two months before the baby was due, and (Y/n) was praying nothing would happen or go wrong in that time. She hoped she wouldn't have the baby until then. She had seen countless other women have their babies too early, and the end result was almost never pleasant.

She didn't want that to happen. (Y/n) didn't want to have her baby early and give them a poor chance at life, she didn't want to lose a baby. She knew people had been surprised when the Emperor's mother managed to have twins and lived through the ordeal. Much less that both sons had managed to survive.

It was usually the case that one twin would gain more strength and nurturing than the other, one would thrive and the other would grow weak and fall to demise.

(Y/n) was glad she wasn't having twins. She didn't fancy those kind of odds. The odds of losing her own life by trying to give life to two babies weren't good. It would be a high risk that at least one of them, whether that be (Y/n) or one of the twins would die if she were having two. The chances of safely having this one baby and being okay afterwards were much better.

She knew she wasn't going to be falling asleep anytime soon, but (Y/n) felt herself relaxing as she started to sink into her thoughts.

That was, until the bedroom door opened and the gratifying sight of her husband waltzing into the room like the higher authority he was made her look up.

Sometimes it seemed strange to see Geta without all the jewels he wore. He had no chains hanging heavy around his neck. There were no rings on each finger. No crown in his hair. No cuffs and golden bands on his wrists and no golden armour cladding his chest.

Right now, he was simply wearing a blood red robe that made (Y/n) wonder if he was wearing anything beneath that or not. She guessed he wasn't.

His lips quirked up into a lopsided smirk and he rose a brow when he caught her staring which she made no efforts to hide. Her eyes followed him as he glided across the marble floor barefoot and moved to sit on the bed beside her.

"Couldn't sleep?" His voice was quiet as if he thought there were servants lurking behind doors who might be trying to listen in on their conversation.

But they both knew they were completely enclosed in privacy in here. The only way into their bedroom was by walking through the main chamber out front which served as an office for Geta and a reading room for (Y/n). Back here, there was no risk of prying eyes spying on them or ears listening in.

His question made (Y/n) smile because they both knew it was late, and they each knew that Geta clearly couldn't sleep either since he looked wired. He often found it hard to sleep. State and official business wound him up and when he was in those moods he tended to rant and rage and spend time at his desk trying to come up with solutions.

"No, someone's been keeping me awake."

When Geta slouched back into the pillows and leant on his right elbow so he was facing her, (Y/n) reached out for his hand and moved to press his palm to where she felt another kick. She wasn't that annoyed that the baby was keeping her awake, feeling any sort of movement was nice. It reassured her that the baby was okay and the midwife told her that it meant they were strong. That was a good sign.

"So strong," Geta murmured while his thumb stroked up and down the base of her stomach and he leaned forward to attach his lips to the base of (Y/n)'s thrat. He felt the deep breath she took and when he grazed his teeth over her skin he felt her hand tighten around his wrist.

She wasn't entirely sure what he was doing but (Y/n) waited while Geta moved. She watched him twist to face her a little more and his hand remained on her stomach while he stayed propped up on his right arm and he leaned in closer to her. He tilted his head down so he could switch to kissing her shoulder and his cheek leaned against her skin which made her smile brightly. And she was sure she felt him grinning against her when she pressed a soft kiss to his hair.

(Y/n) didn't really want to break this little bubble they had surrounded themselves in and she didn't want to speak and shake the atmosphere, but she felt like expressing the gratitude she felt.

"Thank you, for staying with me and not taking the healer's advice." She pressed another kiss to Geta's hair while she took to gliding her hand up and down his arm from his elbow up towards his shoulder and back down again.

(Y/n) had been a little more than nervous when the healer suggested that they should reside in separate rooms from now until the baby was born. She didn't want to be alone. Of course, it was only suggested for evenings so they wouldn't share a bed because they weren't to be intimate with one another now, to make sure nothing went wrong and no harm was caused to the baby.

But Geta had dismissed the healer's advice straight away and that one fiery look he gave the older man stopped the healer or anyone else from trying to broach the subject again.

A quiet hum vibrated against her neck while Geta moved his hand to begin gliding his fingertips up and down her waist and up the side of her chest.

"He believes me to have no will power. Abstaining from you I can just about handle, but not being by your side is too much to ask."

Geta wasn't stupid, he knew what the healer was asking and he was willing to make the sacrifice of not being intimate with (Y/n). He didn't want to do anything that would put her or their child at risk. It was hard, looking at her and not being able to do anything more than kiss her. It was much harder than Geta ever thought.

He had never wanted someone in his life as much as he wanted (Y/n), that was why he dismissed all his women and concubines the moment they got engaged. And it was why he wouldn't go back to any of those women while he couldn't have (Y/n). She was the one he desired, no other woman could take that place and make him feel the same.

He was doing as advised, he wasn't being intimate with his wife, but Geta had enough self control to lay in the same bed as (Y/n) and not have sex with her. It would be too heart-wrenching for him to stay in another room, to sleep alone when he was used to having her by his side to hold during the night. He liked to feel her presence beside him. He liked to have her there and know she was safe and well.

Being parted from her even for a night was too much to ask and Geta wouldn't do it. There was no harm that could come to (Y/n) or the baby by continuing to share a bed, as long as nothing else happened between them. For now.

"And you don't mind… you don't regret not having any women to go to, like Caracalla?"

(Y/n) couldn't help but feel anxious but she tried to push those feelings aside as she glided her hand up and down Geta's arm and leaned into him a bit more. Her lips smothered the top of his head and she closed her eyes as she inhaled his scent.

This was exactly why her mother told her he would keep his concubines, because he would be forbidden from her when she was pregnant. This was why a lot of men, a lot of Emperors, had those women. So they could still seek pleasure, just not from their wives. They could have their fun without the risk of harming their wife or child.

She couldn't help but wonder if Geta regretted dismissing those women now that (Y/n) couldn't fulfill those needs for him.

But the way he tightened his arm around her waist and burrowed his face into the crook of her neck made her heart add in three extra beats and made the baby squirm. He held her like he was trying to squeeze those thoughts out of her mind. He growled into her neck like those words were poison that he didn't want to hear and he burrowed his face further into her neck until he could feel each throbbing of her pulse.

"Never. You're all I want, all I need."

Looking at another woman felt like a betrayal. Geta didn't want anyone else. No other woman would suffice. No one would do but (Y/n) and if he couldn't have her in those intimate ways, at least he could hold her in his arms and bind her to his chest like this.

She was all he wanted.

***

(Y/n) could see the look of disproval in the midwife's eyes. She could see the irritation written across her face and she could easily guess what was going through the elder lady's mind right now.

She would be thinking that this was no place for the father to be; that there was no place for a man to be present at the birth unless of course it was a healer. The midwife seemed very disgruntled that Geta was now in the room with them when she clearly thought he shouldn't be here.

(Y/n) had been prepared for this moment as best she could. Her mother had walked her through what would happen and how things would progress and what would happen afterwards. She had told (Y/n) that Geta would remain with the Senates and the rest of the council. That he would be the first to be told once she'd had the baby and he could be the first person to come and see her when it was all over.

Clearly her mother hadn't counted on Geta being so intent on being nearby. Instead of retreating to the great hall or one of the studies, he had cemented himself in the adjoining room like a statue, unable to be moved. But it didn't take long for Geta to storm into the bedroom like a whirlwind once he heard his wife's cries.

He couldn't just sit out there and listen and do nothing. He wanted to be in here with her, he wanted to help somehow and to do something. Even if that meant simply sitting on the bed and holding (Y/n)'s hand, then that was what he would do.

Geta didn't know how everyone seemed to expect him to be on the other side of the palace when his wife was in peril. He couldn't understand how they thought he would be able to sit in the next room and hear her anguish and her cries and just ignore it.

As soon as the midwife had tried to tell him to leave, Geta burned her with his scolding gaze and the curl of his upper lip had been enough to silence her. If she wanted to remain in the room then she had to be quiet and cease trying to evict him from his own chambers. From his own wife. She had to put her opinions aside and let him stay or there would be all Hell to pay. It was clear that as unholy as it was, (Y/n) was calmed by her husband’s presence.

And he was the Emperor. The midwife was not going to go up against one of her Emperors and tell him to leave the room. She didn't hold that power or that right and he had made it clear he was staying here with his Empress, she couldn't oppose his wishes in any way.

“Another push, Madam, and the baby will be born.”

(Y/n) couldn’t feel her legs anymore. She could feel the pounding pain in her head, the shredding skin in her stomach and lower regions. She could feel her skin heating up and prickling to the point it felt like she was going to shed her skin like a snake. But the horrible churning in her stomach made her sure she was about to be sick.

She was ready for this to be over.

The only thing that was holding (Y/n) together and keeping her in a somewhat calm state was the feeling of Geta's hand tightly clasped in her own. It was soothing to have his hand periodically squeezing hers and to feel his fingers tapping along the back of her hand whenever he got jittery or impatient.

It was comforting to feel Geta's lips pressing into the crook of her neck and the feeling of his chin digging into her shoulder was grounding her and keeping her calm.

She could feel his other arm bound tight around her lower back with his hand settled on her hip and his chest was pressing up into her back and shoulder like he was trying to prop her up so she didn't fall back into the pillows.

"You're almost there now." Geta's words were a great comfort, but it was more the sound of his voice and the feeling of his words against her neck that made (Y/n) want to smile despite her agony.

She was ready for this to be done, she was ready to hold their baby in her arms and rest for an eternity.

She wasn't ready to see the Senates though. (Y/n) knew at some point whether it be a few minutes after she gave birth or a few hours, the Senates would want to know about the baby. They would want to see the new heir. They would want to find out whether it was a boy for them to try and mould and shape up for the throne or a girl for them to marry off to neighbouring countries.

The senates were like vultures when they wanted to be and (Y/n) didn't want them hovering around waiting to rip her to pieces. She didn't want their congratulations if she had a boy or their hums and disapproval if she had a daughter. She didn't want them trying to muzzle in and ruin this day.

If they dared try and ruin this moment or say one rude word, (Y/n) would lose her temper. She might even pretend to have a funny turn and pretend she was sick to get them to leave. At least whatever happened, (Y/n) knew Geta would be on her side.

A scream burned at the back of her throat as she leaned to the left and merged her temple against the top of Geta's head. But over the static in her ears, she could feel her heart going haywire when she heard what Geta whispered against her throat.

"Almighty Empress."

Those words were enough to set her blood on fire and have her leaning into him more when she gave the final push and she knew it was done. It was all over.

She felt Geta lift his head from her neck so he could attach his lips to the back of her head instead. Her hand started to tremble and felt stiff and numb when Geta slid his fingers from hers so he could reach his hand up and cup the side of her neck. As if he were making sure to keep her burrowed into his chest, keeping her safe and sound.

She relished in the feeling of his lips pressing all over her head and temple, trying to show her how much he loved her and whispering against her skin how well she had done.

When (Y/n) managed to open her eyes properly, her gaze fixated on the midwife who was holding her baby in her arms. She had the newborn resting on her left arm on their chest whilst her other hand was rubbing forcefully up and down their back, clearly trying to clear their airways and start their breathing. That didn't make for a good sign.

She could feel the panic welling up inside of her and it started to make her tremble worse as she stared ahead at the midwife. She paid no mind to the healer who knelt on the end of the bed just to make sure she was alright and wasn't about to start bleeding out or suffering any complications. (Y/n) couldn't care less about that, she wanted to see her baby.

She felt Geta's arm slowly tightening around her waist and his chin turned to rest on top of her head so he could keep her pinned into his chest while he too looked over at the midwife. He felt a great urge to raise his voice and ask her if she was competent and ask what she was doing.

But before Geta had chance to raise his voice or utter one word at all, a cry broke through the air and had them all shivering and swarming with relief.

"It's a boy."

(Y/n) wasn't sure she'd heard that right. She had been preparing herself to hear that she'd had a daughter, although she wasn't sure why. She simply thought a girl was what they would have, almost as if she thought she 'couldn't get it right on the first try'.

She knew everyone would be thrilled to hear it was a boy, and she also knew that people would say she had now 'done her duty' by providing an heir. She had given them a succession to the throne. Part of (Y/n) had been hoping for a girl, she just knew Geta would be endearing and fiercely protective over a daughter.

But seeing him raise their boy and teach him and train him and protect him at all costs would be a beautiful sight too.

(Y/n) wanted to flop back into the nest of pillows and close her eyes; she wanted to fall asleep and disappear for a few hours, or even days. She wanted to rest and sleep and gain back all the energy that the last day had taken out of her. But the bundle in the midwife's arms was too enticing to ignore.

She forced herself to sit forward which caused her back to click into place and her trembling arms reached out when the midwife walked closer.

It was such a strange, overwhelming feeling when her little boy was suddenly placed in her arms and snuggled up against her chest. It didn't seem real. (Y/n) bowed her head to press a tender kiss to his temple while he whimpered and wriggled into her chest like he was trying to curl up and burrow back into her.

Her nerves started to tingle and ignite when she felt Geta's chin perch back on her shoulder again and she felt both his arms curve around her middle so he could press his chest fully up against her back.

He couldn't tear his eyes away from the bundle in (Y/n)'s arms. But when he managed to drag his eyes to look at his wife, his lips curved into a smile bright enough to rival the sunset.

Despite the sheen of sweat that was vibrant on every inch of (Y/n)'s skin or the way her flowing hair was matted with sweat and clung to her neck, she still looked every inch a Goddess to him. Even though she was still shaking from the after effects of giving birth, she looked truly stunning to Geta.

Geta was glad when the midwife silently dismissed herself. She wasn't needed any longer. The healer was hovering in the corner of the room, waiting until they were ready for him to check over the newborn and hand him over to the maid to be cleaned and dressed. And the maids and servants were on standby in the next room to give them some peace and time to be together without an audience watching.

"How do you feel?"

(Y/n) leaned her head back on Geta's shoulder, trying to fight the tiredness that was almost as strong as the shaking she felt.

She felt good. The shaking, the dull aches and throbbing pains were minimal compared to how elated she felt to be wrapped up in his arms with their son curled up on her chest like this. As soon as she got some sleep, she would feel even better.

"Tired… would you like to hold him?" (Y/n) tilted her head back so she could look up at her husband a bit better.

He looked a little sceptical, like he preferred to sit and stare rather than reach across and somehow ruin this moment that they had. But Geta found the will to carefully untangle his arms from around (Y/n) so he could take their son from her.

He knew. Geta knew instantly that it was going to be hard for either of them to want to put him down or let anyone else look after him. He was serene. His cries had already ceased and he was calm and content, curling and wriggling to get comfy in Geta's strong arms.

And Geta was sure he could see a few pale strands of golden hair dotted across his son's head. A true heir, taking after him and Caracalla.

When Geta took the throne, he never imagined his life would end up this way. He had seen the turbulence in Rome when he and his brother became Emperors. He had seen the mess they had to clear up, the constant trifles they had to sort through and how the people only seemed pleased when they took on more countries in the name of Rome and when tiresome problems were seen to by the Emperors themselves.

It left them both tired and busy, as if Geta didn't have enough to do without keeping constant watch over his twin to ensure his safety and make sure he didn't do anything out of the ordinary, with his disease growing stronger each day.

Meeting (Y/n) felt like a gift from the Gods, like they had seen what Geta was lacking and made sure he had someone there by his side to help him. To love him and take care of him and show him that he could have this sense of happiness too.

"He's perfect. You're both perfect, my almighty Empress."

He had a feeling that neither of them would be too happy once their boy was taken to his own room in a little while. It wasn't going to feel right for him to be in his own chambers with a maid and a wet nurse to see to all his needs. But at least his room was only down the corridor, he wasn't going to be far away from them at all.

Geta looked between them both before he leaned forward to press a searing kiss against (Y/n)'s wet lips. He loved the feeling of her hand on the centre of his chest right near their son, as if she were trying to feel for his rapid heartbeat. And he loved how she leant into him and how her other hand squeezed his bicep when their temples pressed together and their eyes met.

The amount of love circulating through Geta's body right now had to be lethal. It didn't seem real that he could have so much love for these two people he was holding close to his chest. But when he felt (Y/n)'s lips pecking the corner of his mouth, his lips curved up into a wide grin.

They were his everything.

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