#emperor caracalla x reader x emperor geta

[rxqueenotd]

damnatio memoriae:

In the Roman world, damnatio memoriae was used to describe a range of actions taken against former leaders and their reputations. These actions included: defacing visual depictions, removing heads from public statues, chiseling names off inscriptions, and destroying coins.

summary: reader, who goes by ‘Prima,’ was raised by a powerful Roman consul, under the reign of Imperator Septimius Severus. When it comes time for his eldest son, Caracalla, to marry again, a chain of events is set off, changing the course of Prima’s life and the lives around her.

⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡

warnings: mentions of parental death, mentions of war, ancient rome as a warning all in itself.

notes: there’s a lot of backstory here but I promise it is all pertinent to the story! I really did my best to research and make sure to write something I’m proud of. The dates are 100% not correct and I also pulled characters from the show “Barbarians” on Netflix. Some of this is not historically accurate (for instance, their mother didn’t die till years later.) This idea, however, was born from A. Me being insane and B. Many sleepless nights. The events of this fic begin before Gladiator II and will not exclusively follow the movie’s timeline or chain of events (aka Caracalla’s brain isn’t fried in the beginning and no one important is dead… yet) also, big thanks to @trashmouth-richie for listening to me scream about this for months and @londonfog-chan for beta’ing and becoming a fast friend.

⟡ Imperator- Septimius Severus

⟡ Augustus- Marcus Aurelius Antoninus “Caracalla”

⟡ Caesar- Publius Septimius Geta “Geta”

I

Rome, Fall AD 205

“You have his favor, Prima,”

Varus had said, his words echoing in your mind like the toll of a distant bell. He spoke casually, the sun casting long shadows across the marble courtyard while the Imperator was being formally welcomed home by a group of high-born Romans, the elite nobility of the court.

“Mother, what did Varus mean by that?” you asked later that night, your voice muffled as you chewed a piece of bread at dinner. The flickering candlelight danced in the air, illuminating the empty chair across the table where your father should have been—his absence a perpetual reminder that Rome was his first wife, his first love, his everything.

“The Imperator favors you,” your mother began, her tone measured yet distant. “It is obvious that he has taken a special interest in you.”

Her words hung heavy in the air, laden with unspoken truths.

“Do you think the Augustus had his wife killed?” you questioned, your innocence shining through like pure snow under the midday sun.

Visibly annoyed, your mother sipped her wine, the deep red liquid swirling in the glass like her thoughts. She paused, searching for the right words to quell your endless questioning.

“Plautilla and her brother were exiled after their father’s death, which followed the confirmation of his treachery,” she said, her voice carrying an air of finality, as if she were divulging information that should be inherently understood, “No one is dead except the traitor.”

It was all she would give you, a riddle wrapped in a mystery, until you would later stumble upon the truth.

__________________________________________________________________

“Ari,” you whispered, pulling back the sheer curtain to reveal his figure, his back turned to you.

“What’s the matter?” you asked, joining him at the balustrade, looking out into the distance.

He shook his head, his expression somber.

“I’m being made prefect.”

He stood gazing longingly over the view of Palatine Hill, the moonlight casting a silvery glow on his breastplate. As he turned to face you, his eyes met yours, holding a depth that mirrored the ocean on a sunny day. To call Ari German would only be half true. When Varus had taken him from the Cherusci tribe as a child, a mere eight years old, he was intended as a token of their submission to Rome. Raised in the image of Rome under the guardianship of a renowned general, Ari had found himself instead in the care of your mother, surrounded by slaves, servants, tutors, and nursemaids. An unmarried Roman general had neither the place nor the time to be a father. Ironically, despite these circumstances, Ari had molded himself into your life as naturally as the turning of the tides. His hair, dark as the endless night sky, was flecked with subtle highlights, and his muscles tensed beneath the fabric of his tunic. For all intents and purposes, Ari was the epitome of a Roman citizen, a Roman officer—tall, broad, with a face chiseled from marble. It only made sense that he stood guard of your household when your father was away, which, admittedly, was frequent.

“Wow,” you replied sarcastically, “shall I pretend to be shocked?” Your gaze lifted to meet his, a rueful smile playing on your lips.

“It is the natural order of things, is it not?”

Ari nodded, his silence a heavy cloak around him.

“Tell me,” you pressed on, “do you believe the young Augustus had his wife killed?”

“Why?” Ari’s eyes sparkled with a playful smile, “Are you afraid you’re next?”

You sighed, the weight of the world seeming to press down upon you. “What are our fathers planning?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted honestly, his voice low, “But I’m not sure either of us have a choice in the parts we must play.”

__________________________________________________________________

Babylon/Parthia, Spring AD 206

When the moment for travel arrived, a goat was sacrificed on the altar in honor of Neptune, its blood soaking the ancient stones. You, alongside Ari, your father, Varus, and two of your most trusted servants, then embarked on a ship bound for Parthia.

“I understand why you’re here,” you said, peering at Ari through the blur of his swaying figure as the ship rocked on a particularly rough set of waves, “But I don't understand why your father is involved.”

“Germania,” Ari began, leaning in to make himself heard over the sound of the sea, “He has been appointed governor.”

You shook your head, a mix of surprise and concern flickering across your face.

“I wasn’t aware of that.”

Ari nodded solemnly. “We’re leading three legions.”

Varus, despite his strengths, had always struggled with acknowledging his faults. When he had taken Ari from his home—where he was born to their leader, the Reik—he viewed it as a rescue. However, his decision to revoke the agreement that exempted the tribes from paying tributes to Rome had sparked rebellions.

“I assume you’ll accompany him once this brief meeting concludes?”

“No,” Ari replied, shaking his head. “Father will present his plans to the Imperator and update him on recent events. Afterward, he and I will journey to meet with the nearest legion.”

“What?” You couldn’t hide your astonishment, “You’re leaving me?”

“You’ll be assigned a new set of guards soon,” Ari reassured, though his tone carried a hint of uncertainty.

You eyed Ari suspiciously just as Varus and your father descended the small set of steps, their gazes meeting yours expectantly.

Together, the two men had always been a force of nature. Varus, at the peak of his military career, had aligned with Septimius Severus when he seized power, claiming new territories in the name of the Imperator. A power vacuum had emerged following Commodus’s death, which your father exploited, advancing from the senate to being elected consul by the people—an office he maintained through each subsequent election. Where Varus led, your father inevitably followed, the bonds of their shared childhood—reared by the same nurses and tutors—unbreakably strong. It was only natural that the two of them would undertake this journey together—the culmination of their ongoing efforts to please the Imperator.

Upon your arrival in Parthia, the chaos unfolded before you, its impact muting your entrance. The once majestic city was a shadow of its former glory, stripped of its power and reduced to ruins.

Parthia had been devastated, its lands desecrated by the advance of the Roman army. Although your four-day voyage was free from conflict, your nerves raged, mirroring the tides after a fierce storm. Most of the Roman forces had moved northward, heavy with the spoils of war. This included hundreds of slaves and treasures beyond all imagination. Every village in their path had been ruthlessly flattened and set aflame. Every well poisoned, livestock slaughtered, the surviving Parthians–few and unfortunate– were mercilessly sent to meet their gods.

Formal greetings were promptly exchanged among the men. Nearby, two boys observed you intently. They were presumably the young Augustus, Caracalla, and his younger brother, Geta, who had not yet achieved the rank of his elder sibling, having only had the title of ‘Caesar’ bestowed upon him. You recalled meeting them years ago when their father had briefly governed Sicilia. All of you were mere children then, no older than six. Your father counseled as needed, allowing you to run freely with the two boys within the confines of the governor's villa under the strict eye of the nastiest nurse you had ever met. You had crossed the threshold of eighteen now, the elder brother barely a year your senior.

They stood an arm's length apart, arms crossed over their chests, eyes squinting as they scrutinized you from head to toe. You wondered how they hadn’t melted under the sun, their skin milk-white despite the unforgiving heat searing down.

As you approached the Imperator, you were taken aback when he grasped your hand and placed a chaste kiss on the back of it before you had even had a chance to bow your head.

“Prima,” he bellowed, his deep voice startling the servants behind you, “welcome to our humble camp.”

‘Humble’ was certainly a choice word. Even with half the army marching back towards Rome, numerous tents filled with officers, praetors, and generals were arranged in a grid-like formation along the wall that surrounded the city.

“Thank you, Imperator,” you replied with a smile. “It is my honor to be here.”

Next came a tour of the grounds and an explanation of the recent pillaging and destruction, led by Septimius with his two sons beside him and the rest of the men following. You were ushered away, escorted to where you would be sleeping, your servants trailing behind, pleasantly surprised to find your belongings had already been neatly arranged inside the elegant, yet functional, tent.

The antechamber was lit by two oil lamps, casting a warm glow that highlighted the tapestry emblazoned with your family's crest, a striking sight upon entering. The structure itself was supported by ornately carved wooden poles, strategically placed throughout the space. Fabric partitions divided the tent into designated areas for sleeping and dining, creating a sense of order and privacy.

A wooden bed, adorned with light bedding atop a plush feather mattress, promised comfort. Next to your sleeping quarters, a separate section was reserved for your servants, ensuring that both privacy and accessibility were maintained. Nearby, multiple chairs and folding tables were arranged, with the floor beneath them covered in luxurious animal skins.

"What do we do now?" asked Aeneas, your trusted servant and longtime friend.

You shrugged as you sat down on a chaise. "We wait."

__________________________________________________________________

Being seated between the two brothers at an early dinner was far from what you had expected. You knew they would be close, but having you sandwiched between them was less than ideal. As soon as you entered the room and saw them snickering, you could sense their mood. It had been years since you had been this close to either of them, but the memories of the insults hurled back and forth during your childhood were vivid. You quickly remembered the streak of cruelty that seemed to run deep in both brothers.

As a servant pulled out the chair for you, you smiled, bowed your head, and took your seat.

"How nice of you to finally join us," Geta remarked, his smile dripping with sarcasm as he took a modest sip of wine. Caracalla giggled beside you, prompting you to sigh.

"I came as soon as I was called," you assured him, picking up your glass for a sip.

"Brother, are you sure she wasn’t the servant? That slave they brought in was much better looking." Caracalla chimed in. At that moment, you knew exactly what game they were playing.

You huffed, but your smile never wavered.

"You know, the women in the palace snicker as you walk by. Caracalla, what exactly is a ‘penis aciculatus?’" you asked, maintaining a casual, laid-back smile.

"If you hadn't grown tits, I would’ve sworn you were a boy all this time," he retorted. "Perhaps you still are."

"And you would like that, wouldn’t you?" you spat back, leaving Caracalla speechless as Geta picked up the slack.

"Someone must tell the servants to stop feeding dogs at the table," Geta said as he grabbed your plate and handed it to the nearest servant.

"May I please have more olives?" you asked politely, receiving a nod from the servant who took your plate away. You sighed, relieved that a scene had been averted.

All three of you exchanged fake smiles, appearing to get along splendidly to the other men at the table, who were lost in their own conversations.

"I’m going to marry your father and have you both crucified," you smiled, letting out a faint laugh.

"Not if we kill you first," Caracalla retorted.

"I heard your father sent out a search party just to find someone willing to marry you, Prima," he added with a giggle.

"I’ve heard they had to hire servants of a certain height to follow you around just to reach things up high," you responded, eliciting a laugh from Geta, which in turn caused Caracalla to clench his fist, nearly rearing it back to land a punch in his brother’s direction.

“Prima,” Septimius called out, his booming voice cutting through the tension that was nearly turning physical between you and the brothers, “do you ride?”

“She does,” your father interrupted before you had the chance to respond, “I’ve always said she would have made an excellent charioteer in another life.”

Septimius smiled, nodding approvingly.

“Good, because there’s something I’d like to show you after dinner. A quick ride will get us there in no time.”

“Sounds excellent, Imperator,” you replied, offering him a genuine smile.

“‘Sounds excellent, Imperator,’” Caracalla mimicked in a high-pitched tone.

“No wonder your mother died,” you retorted calmly, “She probably couldn’t bear the thought of spending another moment with either of you.”

“Magae,” Caracalla hissed through clenched teeth, “You filthy little wench.”

You responded only with a smile, echoing his signature giggle back at him.

___________________________________________________________

Septimius rode at the center, astride his horse with Caracalla on his right and you on his left, flanked by a number of guards. The knowledge that the Praetorians had secured the surrounding blocks of Babylon, creating a protective bubble around the heart of the empire, did little to ease the knot of fear in your stomach. The possibility of a stray arrow, one capable of changing the fate of the empire, laid heavily on your mind as you rode through the town.

Caracalla was deep in conversation with his father about Alexander the Great, barely pausing for breath as the three of you approached the ornate building ahead.

“That building houses Alexander’s deathbed.” Septimius announced, slowing his horse.

His eyes sparkled as he glanced at Caracalla, offering him a glimpse of the past as if bestowing a wish upon him. You found it strange, recalling what little you knew of Alexander and his rise to the level of a god. Dismounting, Septimius assisted you down while Caracalla rushed ahead, his expression a mix of awe and fervor.

You wandered away from them towards the residential quarters of the palace, accompanied by two guards. The decor was as lavish as it was ancient, befitting a ruler though only governors had resided there for years. Entering a room, you stumbled upon a modest scene consisting of a bed raised on a three-step dais, a small tiled pool, and a simple podium. It was unremarkable, and you felt no urge to call out until Caracalla burst into the room, exclaiming, “This is it.”

“You like Alexander,” you observed, watching his reaction closely.

“No, I admire him,” he corrected sharply. “He expanded a small nation to rival the expanse of Rome in just thirteen years.”

“Julius Caesar also idolized him,” Septimius added, entering the room.

“And he was stabbed twenty-three times,” you blurted out impulsively.

Caracalla’s piercing gaze met yours, charged with an intensity that made the air around you feel heavy. Septimius smiled, as if you had made his point for him.

"Since you know everything, what do you know about Alexander?" Caracalla hissed, his eyes narrowing as he sized you up, testing your knowledge.

Septimius stood at the edge of the room, leaning against the doorway with baited breath, watching the exchange unfold.

"I know of his triumphs, his beginnings, his end," you began, your voice steady, "But I was always more fascinated by his mother, Olympias."

"They say she slept with a bed full of snakes." Caracalla interrupted with a dismissive wave.

"And she secured the throne for Alexander by orchestrating the death of his father and his young bride," you countered firmly.

"She had their newborn daughter dragged across a hot brazen iron oven. His wife slit her wrists and bled out in a warm bath because of her grief," Caracalla retorted, challenging your morality.

"Olympias ensured her son's legitimacy and handed him the empire on a silver platter," you responded, emphasizing her role in Alexander’s rise without highlighting her alleged brutalities.

"That's why I’ve brought you two here today," Septimius interjected, stepping forward and looking between you both. "Who we surround ourselves with is crucial—family is important, our legacy is important."

You exchanged a glance with Septimius, then Caracalla, absorbing the gravity of his words.

"The two of you will be married once we return to Rome," Septimius declared with a smile.

You quickly masked your surprise, bowing your head respectfully. Caracalla crossed his arms, his face contorting with disdain.

"I am grateful for the honor, Imperator."

"I am not marrying this witch, father," he spat vehemently.

Septimius gave you an almost apologetic look. "Prima, please leave us."

You exited as requested, their escalating argument fading behind you. Caracalla’s insult hung in the air.

"She probably sleeps with snakes!"

"Enough!" Septimius’s voice thundered.

Stepping outside, you exhaled deeply, not realizing you had been holding your breath.

Caracalla brushed past you, his shoulder bumping yours.

"Witch," he muttered under his breath as he mounted his horse.

"I assure you, the only snake I will ever lay with will be you," you shot back sharply.

For a moment, a smirk flickered across Caracalla’s face, almost pleased by your retort. But then his expression darkened, his jaw clenching as he grabbed the reins and rode off.

⟡ latin translations ⟡

⟡‘penis aciculatus’- prickly penis

⟡ magae- witch

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dividers by @ghoulbloggerrr

[missadangel]

The Heart of Rome (Marcus Acacius x Princess Reader)

All Chapters List

XIV. The Ambush (+18, Smut, MDNI)

Ducunt volentem fata, nolentem trahunt

Fate leads the willing and drags the unwilling.

H.

First day of the Funeral Ceremonies.

In the event of the Emperor’s death, his body was twice cremated. First, the body was burnt in the environment closest to the family, leaving this moment in the private sphere. After burning the corpses at the stake, the remains of the bones were laid in a mausoleum.

The second cremation had a symbolic dimension and was a public demonstration of the emperor’s apotheosis. Ceremonies of this type usually took place on the Field of Mars, outside the city. At that time, the wax effigies of the Emperor were burned, imitating the deceased.

On the first day of the ceremony, in the temple of Julius Caesar, right next to Marcus, you found yourself feeling somewhat sorrowful as you witnessed Caracalla's body being burned on wooden stakes. The flames soon rose, and some of the people attempted to discreetly add more wood to the fire, despite the presence of soldiers who had formed a circle around Caracalla's body. Some expressed their frustration, while others paid tribute to the deceased emperor. However, there was a notable absence of words of love, with the exception of those by Caracalla's mother, Julia. While her words may have been perceived by some as lacking sincerity, many others believed they were not, and thus, it was not seen as a significant issue.

As you held Marcus' hand at the top of the temple steps, you felt nauseous of the strong, unpleasant odour. Marcus put his arm around you and helped you down the stairs. The ceremony was already drawing to a close. When you got down the stairs, Geta and Julia came over to you while you were catching your breath. Now it was time for the evening ceremony to announce the emperor's will. All members of the senate were due to attend Domus Severiana in the evening, but this seemed unnecessary given that Caracalla would now be declared a tyrant and therefore any word or will would be invalid. However, rituals had to be honoured. Julia was reluctant to do so, as she had been closely involved with the members of the senate in the absence of Macrinus and had managed things well. And she could guess that Caracalla's will wouldn't make her happy.

But you were all taken aback when Macrinus showed up at the funeral. It was as if nothing had happened. Geta was so angry that he ordered the guards to arrest him, but it was no use. He wasn't trying to escape yet he was a member of the senate, so he was legally entitled to be there. There was no legal basis for the charges, despite Geta's desire to see him dead. Marcus was also furious, his hand on his sword ever since he saw him. But he couldn't kill him in public or even in secret. Well, not yet anyway. That is until Geta was officially declared the sole emperor and Macrinus was officially punished. He was running out of time, but instead of being afraid and running away, he was on the battlefield. This was his best move since he still held the vast majority of the Senate. Marcus had upped the number of his soldiers around the Palatine Hill as a precaution against any move or possible attack by him.

That evening, all the senators got together in the great hall for the reading of the will. Women weren't allowed, but you didn't seem to mind much. Julia was a bit of an exception though. You were in the courtyard when the scriba (chief clerk) announced the will. After a while, you heard a few murmurs and looked in that direction. The senators were now leaving. Your eyes seek Marcus. He was heading your way, adjusting the shawl he wore over his black toga. He looked pretty annoyed. Geta was right behind him, muttering and swearing under his breath.

“We need to get the Council together as soon as possible! I must stop this nonsense now!'

“I agree,” Marcus said as he approached and sat next to you.

"Is there bad news?" you asked, looking at them both.

“Acacius, that will have no force. I'll make sure of that and then that cunt will have no more excuses.” He waved his hand to the slaves. “Wine!”

“I am starting to have some concerns,” you whined.

"I wish I could say,  'no need,' but..." Geta said, throwing himself at the other lectus. His wine was served, and he drank it in one gulp and requested another. You put your hand on Marcus' back. He turned his head towards you, with a faint smile.

"Could you tell me what happened?"

"Caracalla. He’s sending him into exile," Geta replied for him. He took another sip of his wine. "And worse, he has suggested that the court order be issued for the offense of treason, which would result in the loss of his citizenship."

Your eyes widened. "What did you say?"

Marcus's expression confirmed what he had said. "They can't do that, can they?" You asked Marcus, but he covered his face with his hand.

"He couldn't get him killed, after all. He won the games and well earned his freedom, but he decided to exile him, also he said that day. But the denaturalization thing is ridiculous, it is too much. I am certain that is Macrinus' idea. According to law, your marriage will be annulled and you will be considered a widow.”

Your heart felt like it was squeezing, Marcus grabbed your hand.

"I told you that already!" Julia suddenly appeared next to you. "I told you how valuable you are, Aurelia, even as a widow."

"Don't get started, Mother! We're all on edge enough here!" He warned her, looking at Marcus, who was clenching his jaw in anger.

"If Macrinus had killed Geta, he probably would have got the will approved and your marriage would have-"

"Cease the nonsense!" Marcus yelled. He then stood up and pulled you with him. Julia stood dumbfounded.

"I warned you," Geta mumbled to her mother.

Marcus was so angry as he walked with you towards the stairs. He was holding your hand so tightly that it hurt. It seemed like he didn't realize that. He didn't say a word until he came into the room with you, and that upset you. You couldn't bear to see him like that, you wanted to lift his spirits and see him smile again, no matter what. He was still angry as he took off his bracelets. "I hate this!" He growled. "There's always someone or something trying to take you away from me. It is my deepest fear, like a curse that haunts me." He was taking his shawl off in anger but couldn’t do it properly.

You looked into his eyes as you grabbed the hem of the shawl he had wrapped around his waist, lifting it over his shoulder. "No one can take me away from you, my love. You need to have a bit more faith in that."

"If the Council agrees, they can exile me from Rome. Then I'll no longer be a General, I'll be a commoner. Being a soldier is the best I can do. I don't know what else I'm good for, but none of these is worse than being separated from you, my lady."

"Who said you'd separated from me? I would do whatever it takes to be with you." You said firmly. “I would exile myself from Rome if I had to.”

Marcus raised his eyebrows. "But you're a princess, and I'm sure you realise that giving up your fame or your title isn't an option."

You embraced him, your arms encircling his neck. "I would be willing to make that sacrifice for you. After all, what use is being a princess if I'm not going to be with you? You must remember that I was not a princess when we first met, my name was not Aurelia, but Aya, an orphan."

Marcus smiled and wrapped his arms around your waist. "That's right, Aya. You were. My beautiful, innocent Aya."

"Innocent? Do you think I've lost my innocence? Or have you changed your feelings towards me?" You frowned, pursing your lips.

Marcus laughed. "I'm curious how you manage to be jealous of yourself. It must be a special talent of yours, my lady." He laughed again.

You shrugged. "You said 'Aya' so adoringly."

"You are truly astonishing. Once again, you have amazed me, princess. I'm left speechless." He leaned in and kissed you on the lips. "But would you truly consider going into exile with me as Aya?"

"I would be honored to do so if you would have me. With you, I am whole, without you, I am lost. We made a promise to each other, did we not? Where you are Marcus, I am Marca."

He nodded. "Where you are Marca, I am Marcus." His eyes sparkled as his fingers stroked your hair. "You're far too incredible to be ordinary. You must be a goddess." He kissed your temple, his lips brushing against your skin. "My goddess, I worship you. I love you, divine." He then kissed you passionately, adoringly.

"You know, this colour suits you, although perhaps not as well as your white armour, though," you murmured as you broke the kiss.

"Is that so?" He smirked. "Would you like me to share my thoughts about you as well?"

You nodded, smiling.

"I love you in every color of dress, I really do…" His hands worked skilfully, removing your stola and bracelets in a slow, deliberate manner. "However, my favourite look of yours," he said as he slowly removed your tunic, "is exactly like this." His brown eyes traced in your bare body from head to toe. "Your natural, pure beauty." His gaze soon became more intense, you could feel your cheeks flushing and your heart starting to beat faster. The light from the oil lamp illuminated your body, making your hair look more golden than ever, which he found very seductive. Marcus took you gently in his arms and laid you on the bed. He lay down beside you, put his arm around your waist, kissing your cheek tenderly. “Da mi basia mille, deinde centum, dein mille altera, dein secunda centum, deinde usque altera mille, deinde centum. dein, cum milia multa fecerimus, conturbabimus illa, (Give me a thousand kisses, then a hundred, then another thousand, and then another hundred, and, when we've counted up the many thousands, let us confuse them so as not to know them all).” He whispered, and he kissed your chin, then your nose, then the corner of your mouth. The poet and romantic Marcus was here. “Catullus,” he explained.

You smiled. “It's a beautiful poem,” you murmured.

He ran the back of his hand along the line of your collarbone and shoulders. "You're the most beautiful, my love."

His words were so lovely, soft, and arousing, and your body was already writhing to be his. Just as his lips were about to meet yours, he pulled away and got up from bed. Before you had a chance to ask what was going on, he walked over to the desk and opened the drawer. "I almost forgot," he said, holding out a key and showing it to you. "I simply want to ensure that we have some privacy." He walked to the door and locked it. When he turned to you, a childish smile appeared on his face. "It's better to be cautious."

You giggled. "I don't blame you.”

He put the key on the desk and stepped towards you. "Now," he said, putting his knee on the bed. "Where were we, my lady?" He crawled closer to you, with a predatory look. You bit your lower lip and put your knees together, in a teasing manner. "You still haven't taken off your tunic, general." His big hands gripped your knees. "You said you loved it," he whispered, his eyes travelling down your legs.

“I did, but I also love you most when you are not wearing any clothing."

He chuckled. "Do you really, my lady?" He glanced down at himself. "I believe I am in rather good shape, but my body bears many scars from the years. This is a soldier's body, after all, not a pleasant one, I suppose."

"That's not true." You said and got up on your knees. You helped him take off his black tunic. Marcus sat on the bed on his heels and watched you carefully as you ran your fingers over his body. You started with an old wound on his shoulder, then moved on to another. Each one had a memory, and you admired him again as he told you one by one when it happened. The most noticeable of his scars was the one on his abdomen. It was the one that almost killed him, the one you healed, and the one that made you two meet. Now it looked like it had always been there, like the others. You looked at his face then kissed it on the cheek where the wound was. "Your scars show how strong you are, how wonderful you are, how you can overcome anything. They make me love your body more, my love. The first time I saw you, I was struck by the scars you bore. I was really amazed." Your cheeks blushed.

He considered your meaning. "When I was lying unconscious in the tent?"

You nodded. "That's true."

"You never cease to surprise me, my love." He laughed. "Should I cut myself again then?" He teased.

"Marcus, don't be silly." You put your hand on his cheek. "I don't want to see you get hurt again.”

He smiled. ‘'Forgive me, my lady. Perhaps I'm a bit spoiled because I already have the magical cure." He grasped you by the hips, pressing his length against your entrance. "You are such a medicine, healing my body, my soul, my senses, my heart." He whispered into your ear. "My need for you is eternal. I'll never get enough of you." You wrapped your legs around him with a little moan as he laid you back. He was right - he could never get enough of you. Every time he kissed your lips, drank from your mouth, or tasted your skin, he did it with incredible need. You weren't complaining because you couldn't get enough of him either. It was something you couldn't put into words. You wanted it the same way every time, felt satisfied with it, then wanted it again and again. It was like a necessity for your survival. His lips met yours hungrily, and he pushed his length against your walls, making you moan from the sudden pressure on your most sensitive spot. You broke the kiss by arching your back backward. But it gave him the chance to play with your breasts as he pleased. They were already hard before his tongue even touched your nipples. As they'd been quite sensitive lately, just a gentle touch was enough to send you over the edge. However, he was licking, sucking, biting and nibbling them like it was the first time he ever did it, and he was clearly enjoying himself. After a while, no matter how much you resisted, he made you reach your climax with a loud moan. When Marcus felt your heartbeat quicken under his lips, he put his cheek between your breasts and listened to it. He then lifted his head to look at your face.

"As impatient as ever." He murmured. “You couldn't wait for me, could you, my lady?”

"You made me," you panted. "You were aware of how sensitive my breasts were."

"I'm afraid I cannot apologise for that," he said. "But you've been rather impatient lately, I don't think that's the only reason."

"Do you think so?"

"Hmm, I shall prove it," he said, making you roll easily. Your face and knees were turned towards the bed. He guided your hips up towards him, positioning himself accordingly. He put his hands on the bed, on either side of your body, since your walls were already rather slippery, allowing him to slide into you from behind easily. You let out a loud moan as you felt incredible pressure on your most sensitive spot. His muscular chest brushed against your back with each of his intense thrusts, but he was careful to avoid putting too much weight on you. Marcus gathered your hair at the back of your neck and rested his chin on your shoulder. He kissed your cheek and his lips slid from your ear to your neck, then to your shoulder, licking and tasting your flesh on their path. You traced your fingers along the strong arm he'd put on the bed to support himself. And finally, he managed to prove his point, making you come for him a second time. He wrapped his other arm around you and buried his face in your hair, reaching his own climax with a loud groan. He collapsed, and you liked his strong pressure on your vulnerable body. It made you feel like he'd just conquered you all over. Keeping his arm around you, rolled onto his side. Your breathing quickened again, but Marcus's lips were soft against your skin, helping your breath to settle.

Second day of the Funeral Ceremonies.

The first thing you heard when you woke up was the soft murmuring coming from the courtyard and the knocking on the door. And then you heard the door handle being forced.

"Did you lock the damn door? How rude!" Geta's voice came through from the other side.

You opened your eyes and noticed Marcus was not in bed. You looked up and saw him sitting at the edge of the bed, wearing his burgundy tunic.

"I knew I couldn't trust him. It was no surprise. Wasn't it a good idea to lock it up?" He winked at you.

You sat up in bed and smiled. "I'm blessed with a man who is so handsome, so protective and so intelligent. Should I give you a kiss to congratulate you?"

He smiled and leaned towards you. "Yes, please."

You reached up and kissed him on the lips.

Before long, Geta's voice became more subdued, and the footsteps receded into the distance.

"I guess you'll be wearing your armour today."

"Yes, my lady, the second day of the ceremony will be held in the Field of Mars, so I need to be there with the general outfit of mine." He gave you a quick kiss on the shoulder and stood up. You reached down to pick up your tunic from the floor but you felt dizzy and fell back on the bed.

"Aurelia?" Marcus came over and sat on the bed next to you. "My Love, are you alright?" He put his hand on your forehead.

"I think I'm quite hungry, I didn't eat much yesterday."

"I will ask them to bring food for you. Please stay in the room and rest today. I may be back later this evening. I have to pay a visit to the governor afterwards." He said, helping you put your tunic on.

"The governor?"

"Yes, I need to find out where the slaves are and then I will go to check the villa."

"I'd better come with you." You were insistent.

"Aurelia," he shook his head in disapproval. "You simply stay here and rest. I'll find them and have them return to the villa, then we'll go home together, I promise." He took your hand and kissed the top of it. "I have to leave now." He stood up.

"I'll be awaiting for your return."

"Stay safe and rest well, my love." He smiled at you before leaving the room.

Marcus closed the door and made his way downstairs, calling out to Octavius as he walked. Geta heard him and came over. Marcus gave him a nod.

"Acacius, could you tell me where Aurelia is?"

"She's resting in her room, Your Majesty."

"I need to see her," Geta said, heading for the stairs, but Marcus grabbed his arm. Geta looked at him, squinting his eyes.

"She is not feeling well today, you know her condition. Let her get some rest." He spoke in a firm tone.

“Or she is not coming with us? But we'll be leaving soon for the ceremony. Is it safe to leave her here on her own? That wretched Macrinus is still on the loose."

"My soldiers will be waiting outside. The Praetorian guards are inside the palace, and they're loyal to you and the princess."

"I'm not sure, Acacius. Some of the senators are on Macrinus' side, which concerns me. It would be ideal to start ruling officially as soon as possible. I've been informed that the council can meet as an emergency no later than the day after tomorrow. So we must proceed with caution."

"We will, Your Majesty. Now, please allow me to dress properly and then be ready to leave.”

Once Marcus had left, you ate the food that had been delivered to the room and spent a little while resting there. But you soon found the room a bit boring, so you got dressed and left. It was getting late in the afternoon, and the slaves were busy with their daily duties. You went to the tomb in the palace to pay your respects to your father and then went back to the courtyard. Julia had returned from the ceremony and you observed her entering the great hall accompanied by a few people following her. Geta was not present, but it was possible that he was in the great hall as well. It seems likely that Julia was now providing guidance to her son in the running of the empire. You decided to ignore them and go to Cato to check his wounds. However, he was nowhere to be seen, so you walked to the entrance of the great courtyard. There you found him, standing by the gate with another soldier. Upon recognizing you, they saluted you.

“My lady.”

"Cato, I was looking for you. Are your wounds healing well?"

"Thank you, my lady. I am feeling better now. I am truly grateful for your help." He smiled.

"Have you two been standing here all morning? Have you had a chance to eat yet?"

They gazed at each other.

"My lady, the General's orders are clear. We shall eat once he returns." Aris said.

"Sister!"

You turned to Geta's loud voice. He was staggering a little as he walked towards you. Aris and Cato bowed to him. Geta came over, taking your arm.

“I didn't realize you were here,” you said, looking at him.

He let out a sigh. "Well, two funerals for our brother are too much for me to take. I left as quickly as I could. How are you feeling now? Acacius mentioned that you were feeling a little tired this morning."

"I am alright, now." You walked together towards the courtyard. The wound on his forehead was still a bit bad. "I guess no one has treated your wound yet?"

"Hm yes," he said, touching his wound. "Our insane brother has made sure we don't have a medicus here anymore." He let out a sigh. "Even my favourite slave died because of him, poor girl." Then he sat down on the lectus. "It hurts," he murmured.

You approached him. "I am truly sorry brother."

"I meant my wound, silly." He pointed at his forehead.

You smiled at him. "Let me bring you the ointment I prepared earlier." You said and walked towards the palace clinic.

Geta grinned. "If you insist that much."

When you returned with the ointment, you saw Julia sitting next to Geta with a few other women. You recognized some of them – they were your relatives from Leptis Magna. You figured the rest must be the wives of senators. They were all looking at you in a curious way.

"Princess Aurelia, is the child a boy or a girl?" One of them asked.

It was a bit of a strange question to answer yet you didn't want to be too friendly with them. "I suppose it's difficult to tell so soon," you said as you applied the ointment to Geta's wound.

"I have heard some people say that you will give General Acacius a son." One of them said.

"It is necessary to continue the General's family name after all." Another one said.

All of them looked at you, seeking to ascertain any information that might satisfy their curiosity. Julia laughed hysterically. "Aurelia's mother gave birth to a girl, just like her aunts. Given that she has so many girl cousins, I'd say this one will be a girl too.”

One of them, whose demeanor you found to be friendly, made eye contact with Julia and then with you. "After all, Lady Aurelia's mother gave birth to a princess, not an ordinary girl. It is always a possibility that you may give birth to a prince of Rome, my lady."

They all fell silent and glanced furtively at Geta. You put your hands on your belly and smiled. You were almost sure it was a boy, but you had no intention of sharing it with them.

"Stop the nonsense now! You gossipy old women! What difference does it make if it's a boy or a girl? It is going to be my nibling after all. Don't you have a home to go to? I've had enough of you today, so get out of my sight at once!" He waved his hand in a shooing gesture.

They all got up at with murmurs and headed towards the entrance. Julia squinted at you and Geta before following them behind.

"Thank you," you mumbled.

"Don't mind them, they must all be jealous of you."

"Jealous of me?" You asked as you applied the ointment to his wound.

He sighed. "I don't think you realise how splendid and significant you are." He said in a serious tone, like scolding you.

You looked into his eyes but he looked away. "I mean, you're a princess, that's what I mean."

You were startled by the sound of a deep, masculine voice clearing his throat. When you looked in that direction, you saw that Marcus was standing there. You were curious as to how much he had heard. He did not appear angry, or perhaps he was simply trying to keep his promise to you. You stood up and went towards him. You smiled when you noticed the flowers he was holding. They were golden-coloured trollius europaeus (globeflower).

"Or are those for me?" You asked.

"I thought of you when I saw them, my lady. Their colour reminded me of your hair. Did you like them?"

"Yes, they're so lovely, thank you." You said, taking the flowers from him.

"They're overshadowed by your beauty." He said, smiling. Your cheeks flushed.

"Oh, Acacius, you're so romantic!" Geta chuckled.

You both ignored him. "Are you hungry?" you asked. "Come, let me feed you." You said, taking his hand.

"Acacius, where have you been?" Julia asked, walking towards you.

You'd already seen enough of her arrogant face today, and it was starting to bother you.

"I could not see you after the ceremony. We need to talk.’

"I have been preoccupied with personal matters, Lady Domna. What is it?"

Julia looked at you and Geta. "Not here," she said, "Come to the great hall."

“You're so persistent, Mother,” Geta said with a sigh.

You gave your flowers to one of the slaves to take them to your room. Then you followed Julia and Geta to the great hall with Marcus.

"I've been keeping an eye on Macrinus' consuls for a while now," Julia said. You all gathered around the desk with some papers and maps on it. "I've been thinking about how we can get them on our side."

"We? There's no such thing as 'we'." Marcus said firmly.

You smiled when he said exactly what you said before, to the same person.

"You do want to finish Macrinus, don't you? I told you before, that if you had been made a consul by now, maybe we could have stopped him from becoming powerful."

"And I said I'm a soldier, not a politician."

"Yet here we are General. Don't you see how dangerous he is? Caracalla died because of him. Geta and you were close to dying too.”

He put his hands on the desk. "Once the Council declares Cracalla's death a rightful tyrannicide, his will, and all his acts become null and void. Macrinus will be nothing, and I will surely kill him then."

"Even if he dies, his consuls might still support him and not support Geta. I need to get rid of that threat. 'We're on the same side here. He wants something you and I have, right?'

Geta interjected. "I think Acacius is right, Mother. When I rule, Macrinus will lose everything he has. Then we'll kill him easily."

"You're underestimating him. Macrinus has been preparing for this for years, he is so smart yet close to his end now. We just need to give it the final push. I've already won over some of them, but a few are still on his side. I don't know what he's promising them, but if they vote on whether to honour Caracalla's will, he could win."

"We can convince them," You said. "If we tell them the truth; what he's done to Caracalla, how he manipulated him. Then there will be those who want to side with Geta, won't there?"

"You seem pretty sure you can convince them, Aurelia," she said, crossing her arms. "Do you have any idea how tough it is going to be?"

Marcus let out a sigh.

You decided to talk back to Julia. "Maybe they need something to believe in then? If we present Geta's possible policy of rule to them and if we can convince them that we need their support to build Rome's future together, those who are truly willing will accept it, won't they?"

"Aah! If they refuse, we'll slaughter them and do it for Rome! Remarkable, sister!" Geta clapped his hands.

"Is killing really the only solution for you?" you said, squinting.

"With your approach, we can only hope, Aurelia," said Julia.

"Lady Aurelia is right," Marcus said. "Emperor Geta needs to convince them." He looked at him sincerely. "They need to see that Macrinus has no power compared to the emperor himself. Show them that you are your father's son, Your Majesty. It's time to behave like a true emperor."

“Acacius, how dare you say that to me?” Geta shouted at him.

Marcus approached him with a stern look on his face. "You must show them, to your people, that you have changed, that you are capable of more than simply acting as a spoilt emperor."

"Don't cross the line!" Geta pointed a finger at him.

"Maybe later Acacius, we do not have time for that. My son is right," Julia said, crossing her arms. "Anyone who supports Caracalla, anyone still backing Macrinus, we must butcher them and seize all their assets. It will make the others fear and obey."

"This is insane,’’ Marcus growled. He looked at Geta. "Then how would you be any different from your brother, the tyrant?"

Geta thought for a moment, looking a little indecisive.

"That's why you wanted to speak with my husband, isn't it? This was not about politics. You want him to do your dirty work!" You walked over Julia. 

She ignored you. "If you don't, the Praetorians will, Acacius."

"I will not kill Roman consuls." He said firmly.

"Well, that's the last resort anyway. It might not be necessary. I've spoken to the consul Albanus' wife." Julia looked at Marcus a little weird way. "If all goes to plan, she'll help us get more than half the council on Geta's side. You must know her Acacius, she was your former wife after all."

Before Julia could say more, Marcus grabbed her by the throat.

"What are you trying to do?" Marcus yelled.

“Acacius!” Geta shouted. You froze.

Julia was having trouble breathing. You grabbed Marcus's arm with both hands and tried to pull it away from Julia's throat, but he was too strong, and you failed. There was pure anger in his eyes, the kind that always makes you feel scared.

"Marcus, please, you'll kill her!" You begged.

But he didn't. The guards drew their swords.

"General! Release the Lady Domna at once!"

"Acacius, are you mad?" Geta shouted. "Take your hands off her now!"

You knew you were the only one who could calm him down, so you touched his face. "Marcus, please, please! She's not worth it. Please! You promised me," you reminded him.

That's when he looked at your eyes and pulled his hands away. Julia started coughing violently. Geta put his hand on her shoulder. The guards sighed with relief and sheathed their swords with his signal. You grabbed Marcus' hand who was still looking at Julia with a deadly stare.

"Enough talk. We're going to retire to our room now." You said, looking at them, tugging Marcus to the outside. Julia was too shaken up to speak, rubbing her throat. Geta wrapped his arm around her, but he wasn't angry as he looked at you.

"Get out of my sight you two!” He said, hoping his voice sounded sharp. He then gave you a wink. You rolled your eyes.

Marcus was still visibly angry, but he didn't resist your tugging. When you left the great hall, it was his turn to tug.

"That's enough! We're not staying here any longer!" He yelled, his voice echoed across the courtyard. Cato and the others came running towards you.

"Where might we go?"

"Sir!" Octavius called out to him. Marcus stopped him by raising his hand.

He then looked at you. "I've spoken to the governor, and we now have some idea of where the slaves are. We must await the council's decision, however.”

"Have you seen them? Are they alright?" You asked. Marcus looked at Octavius, and so did you.

He didn't seem down anymore. "They'll be fine, my lady," he said with a half smile.

Marcus gave his shoulder a little tap. "I sent Octavius to check them. They'll be out of there soon and we'll return our home, together." He smiled.

"We will," you smiled back.

Marcus turned his head to Octavius. "I need you to get the horse ready a bit earlier than planned."' He said.

"As you wish." He nodded and left.

"But if we're not staying here, and if we're not staying in the villa either, then where are we staying?" You asked Marcus curiously.

He touched your face. "Can I ask you to be patient, my lady? I want to surprise you."

"Surprise me?" You raised your eyebrows.

Marcus smirked. "Make sure you get your things from the room because we're not coming back here again." He said as you walked to the room together.

It was fair to say you didn't have much stuff anyway, given that you were brought here by force. Your old clothes were in a bad state, so they were thrown away. Marcus told you to wear ordinary clothes, and you did. He dressed similarly too. Then you both put on your black cloaks to avoid attention outside. The bad memories you had of this room in the last few days had turned into good memories with Marcus there, so you never thought you would feel a little bit sad when you were about to leave the room.

"My love." Marcus wrapped his arm around you. "If you're not feeling well, we can stay here another night."

"No, I'm fine, we can leave, now," you said with a smile. He put your things in his pera bag and hold your hand. You looked around one last time before leaving the room, noticing the flowers he had brought you on the table. "Marcus! My flowers!"

He stopped you from going there by pulling your hand. "Why don't you leave them here? There are plenty more where we're going. Come."

"What kind of place are we going, I wonder?" You asked as you walked towards the stairs.

"Patience is a virtue, princess." He said, smiling cockily.

"It wouldn't be very virtuous not to answer the Princess's question, would it, General?" You teased him.

He laughed. "So as a princess, you're going to rule over your husband, are you?"

"Can't I?" You asked in a sweet voice.

He stopped and looked at you, his eyes were buttery and intense. "As if you had not already conquered me, as if I were nothing but your humble servant." His voice was really deep, and you could feel your heart beating faster. As he spoke, he brought his lips close to yours.

"Gods above! Are you abandoning me?" Geta's voice interrupted you.

You both looked back at him, his lips twisted like a little boy.

“We can't stay here any longer, brother.”

"But isn't your villa still under repair? And isn't it dangerous out there, Acacius? Where do you think you're taking her?"

"My wife, Lady Aurelia, will be with me. So there's no need to worry, Your Majesty." Marcus spoke in a firm voice. "The soldiers will stay here with you, please do not leave the palace until the day of the council."

Geta kept his eyes on you as if he couldn't hear him. "Make sure of her safety," he muttered.

Marcus squinted at him. "I will."

You sighed. "I'll be fine, brother. I wish you the best of luck with Lady Domna, though." You said quietly.

"I suppose I'll just have to hope that God Fortuna is on my side on that one.” He laughed. He then stepped closer and hugged you. Marcus tensed but remained still. "Take care of yourself and my nephew, or it'll be bad for you."

You smiled and nodded. Marcus squeezed your hand. "We'd better leave now. Your majesty." He bowed his head and turned around, pulling you with him.

The sun was about to set when Marcus stopped the horse on the slope of a hill. It had been quite a long and jarring journey for you. While you were on the horse, he walked the other half of the way so as not to tire the horse out with the weight of the two of you. Thankfully, you arrived soon after.

"My lady." He held out his arms and helped you down. It was a wooded area, with the city silhouetted in the distance, and the Colosseum was the most prominent silhouette.

"We need to walk the rest of the way. Do you think you can make it?"

"I believe I can manage, but this is the middle of the woods."

He smiled. "We're not quite there yet, princess." He took your hand, holding the horse's reins in the other. The path was uneven, with many stones and bushes along the way. After a while, you were sweating and out of breath. Marcus tied the horse and slung the saddle bag over his shoulder.

"We're almost there, let me carry you.” He carefully lifted you in his arms. He was considerate and careful when carrying you. After a little while, you became aware of a rumbling sound, which you thought might be water, and turned your head in that direction. After walking among a few trees, Marcus carefully set you down.

"We have arrived."

Your mouth opened in awe as you looked around, taking in your surroundings. Beautiful meadow field with fresh grass and multicolored flowers in nature against a blurry blue sky with clouds. A waterfall was cascading on mountain rocks ahead, the trees with flowers blooming in heavy clusters all over their branches. The gentle chirping of birds and the soothing sound of the waterfall blended together, creating a harmonious ambiance. Could this be what Elysium on Earth is like?

You were blown away by the view. Marcus' arms wrapped around you from behind. "Are you pleased, my love?"

"Marcus, this place is incredible." You murmured.

He leaned down, rested his chin on your shoulder, and whispered in your ear. "A place where no one can find us or bother us. I think I've kidnapped a beautiful princess from the palace for myself." He laughed.

You turned your head towards him. "Oh, that can't be. I'll have to call for help," you teased.

"Do as you please, my lady." His hands grabbed your thighs and pulled against his crotch. "But I must say, no one can hear you here." He grabbed your chin, turned you around and kissed you passionately.

The kiss became heated and all-consuming. Marcus' eager hands quickly found the belt of your dress and quickly undid it. For a moment, you realised you were overexcited and then you tensed up.

"Marcus, are we really going to make love here?" you asked, glancing down at the grass and flowers.

He shrugged. ‘Why not? No one could come here. Besides, I have come prepared." He bent down and opened his saddle bag. "I must ensure my princess is comfortable." He took a linen blanket out of it and laying it down on the grass. Then he held out his hand to you. "My lady.”

As soon as you touched his hand, he pulled you to him, making you gasp. "Relax, my love. Only the birds can see us here." He slowly he lowered the straps of your dress down your arms. "Let them bear witness to our love." He gave you another kiss, and then he carefully slid your dress down your waist let it fall to the ground. Then he took you in his arms and carefully laid you down on the blanket.The gentle breeze from the waterfall caressed your back, but as your body was filled with a sense of desire, burning with lust, you felt no chill. Marcus removed his shawl and tunic with haste and lay down next to you. As his warm hands explored your body, you shivered with excitement at the change in atmosphere. It was unlike anything you had ever experienced before, a blend of primal and seductive.

"You look absolutely breathtaking lying in the meadow among the flowers." He said it in a husky voice. He took your face in his hands and kissed you deeply. His hands explored every inch of your body, while yours travelled over his shoulders. His warm and inviting lips traced a path to your chin, and his knee pressed firmly between your legs. He sensed your unease and knew how to ease it. He slowly moved his lips from your knees to your hips, and you opened your legs for him, your nervousness now replaced by desire. His strong hands gripped your hips firmly and he smiled triumphantly. All you could feel was his wet tongue, his lips and his beard tickling you as he continued to devour you, all of you. You let out a loud moan as Marcus licked, sucked and bit your aroused folds, most sensitive spot, taking you to the edge. You gripped the hem of the blanket and grass, as moaned loudly not caring if anyone could hear. Gasping for breath, you were surprised to feel the grass between your fingers that you had unintentionally plucked. Marcus wiped your wetness from his chin with his fingers and licked it and settled between your legs. You put your arms around his neck as he kissed you adoringly, hungrily. Both of you savoring the unique feeling of him having you on the meadow under the dark sky. His eager thrusts got deeper, and your back arched, making you look up at the sky. The light was fading, and the birdsong had given way to the sound of crickets. He placed his big hand tenderly under your head as if it were a special pillow for you. His other hand gripped your thigh possessively. His lips traced over your flesh more tenderly and possessively than his hands as he made you his. After a few wonderful thrusts from him and a cry of pleasure from you, his hand grasped the nape of your neck and his mouth found yours. He groaned loudly, almost animalistic as he filled you with his hot liquid, accompanied by the sound of water cascading in the darkness. It was a rather blissful sound to hear. He rested his sweaty forehead between your breasts and remained until your breathing settled. As you ran your fingers through his hair, you felt his lips curl into a smile on your belly. Then his lips moved from your sternum to your collarbone, to your chin and finally to your lips. When his big body was pulled off of you, the cool night wind licked your damp body and made you shiver.

"You must be feeling cold, my lady," he said, standing up.

"A little," you said, hugging your arms, and rubbing them.

Marcus returned with another blanket. He wrapped it around you quite tightly.

"You came well prepared, General," you giggled.

"I told you so," he smirked. He put on his tunic and started picking up some twigs. "I need to start a fire, so you won't be cold anymore." He said.

You watched him as your whole body was wrapped in the blanket. He picked up some stones from around and put them on the grass. He put the twigs and woods he'd collected in the middle of the stones and opened his saddle bag again. He picked up a flint with a sharp point and a piece of steel, the materials needed to start a fire. He put the flint in the thin bushes and struck the flint with the steel in his hand, and after a few strokes, a spark appeared. Marcus blew on the twigs and it burst into flame. You smiled and clapped your hands. "Impressive, General.”

"The perks of being a soldier, I suppose." He said, smiling, as he threw a few thick sticks and pieces of wood on the fire. You wanted to move closer to the fire to warm your body up, but Marcus had swaddled you like a baby, so you couldn't move. He laughed at your stubborn effort and came to you, wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close to the fire. You tugged the blanket and spread your arm to the side, inviting him in. "My love, the fire is good but I need your warmth, will you?"

He smiled. "Whatever my lady wishes for I shall treat as a command." He said and sat down next to you and snuggled up to you under the blanket. His arms wrapped around you and made you lie down with him. "There's no moon tonight, so you can see the stars clearly," he said.

He was correct in his assertion, that the sky had a marvelous sight, akin to a feast of stars. The wood burning with crackle and the sound of the waterfall cascading, as if determined to flow forever, the crickets and the two of you breathing, and the stars themselves—all these elements combined to create a scene that was nothing short of sublime. You simply enjoyed gazing at the stars until you felt your eyes growing heavy.

The day before the Council.

As the first light of the day began to illuminate the meadow with its gentle yellow light, the birds had already started their cheerful songs, welcoming the new day. You continued to listen to the sound of the waterfall and the song of the birds without opening your eyes, and after a while, when the bright sunlight filtered through the trees and fell on your eyelids, you closed your eyes tightly. However, you then became aware of a certain darkness, as if a shadow had fallen, and you decided to open your eyes. When you did so, you were somewhat surprised to see that Marcus's big hand was right above your face. Had he perhaps been protecting you from the sunlight? You took his hand, brought it to your lips and kissed it.

“Morning.” You murmured into his palm, his thumb tracing the curve of your lips.

"My lady, I've decided to forego making a list, but I wonder if I might call this morning the best morning ever?"

"You may do so, General." You smiled.

He smiled back, then locked his eyes on yours. "Your eyes shine almost green in the sunlight like an oasis in the desert, so beautiful." He touched your face with his hand and leaned in to kiss you, with love, passion, and devotion. "You must be hungry," he said after breaking the kiss. He lifted the blanket from around himself and stood up. You sat down and looked at him curiously.

"Did you bring food too?" You asked while you were fixing your hair, taking a few leaves out with your fingers. You got up, found your tunic in the grass and put it on.

"I need to make sure my princess is well-fed." Marcus returned to your side with the bundle in his hand. He sat down next to you and undid the bundle's knots, taking out a few pieces of bread and fruit. He popped a piece of bread into your mouth and then into his own. He peeled the apple for you and made sure you ate it all.

"My lady, I must give this back to you."

"Hmm?" When you looked at him he was holding your scabbard in his hand. You opened your eyes wide and grabbed Marcus' wrist with both hands. "Marcus! This was poisoned!" You shouted.

"Calm down, my love. I've washed and cleaned it. Look." He pulled the knife out of its sheath with a sharp metal sound, it was shining brilliantly in the sunlight.

"Then, you know what I've done." You mumbled. You bowed your head, that tormenting feeling was there again. He put a finger under your chin and lifted your head to look at him.

"I know, and I'm proud of you. Honestly, I'm impressed, I don't think even I could have thought of such a thing." He kissed the tip of your nose. "I've fallen in love with you once again, princess."

You raised your eyebrows. "Really?"

"Indeed. I think it's an act quite befitting the wife of a Roman General, so you needn't feel guilty, my love."

You wrapped your arms around his neck and buried your head in his collarbone. "Thank you. I don't feel guilty anymore, I guess."

He wrapped his arm around you. "Good. It's a relief to know that he died in the same pain I suffered before.”

You felt a pang of sadness when you thought about how you'd seen him suffer the first time you saw him.

You heard a horse approaching, its hooves striking the ground with a sudden, startling noise. Marcus quickly stood up and reached for his sword. "You stay here," he said, gesturing with his hand. It sounded like it was coming from where you first came from. Marcus drew his sword and made his way forward with caution. You got tense, but then he put his sword back in its sheath.

"Octavius," he said quietly, looking at you and then walking over.

"Sir!" You felt a sense of relief when you heard Octavius' voice. He gave you a salute from a distance.

"Why have you come? Is something wrong?" Marcus asked.

"The Council has decided to meet urgently today, sir."

"How? It was scheduled to meet tomorrow."

"Sir, I believe it was a unanimous decision, although I'm not entirely sure. I am here to inform you and also..." Octavius looked at you hesitantly.

"Continue."

"Lady Aurelia must be in the palace, as Caracalla's act has not yet been invalidated and she is therefore still under house arrest. The Praetorian guards are looking for her everywhere."

Marcus clenched his jaw. "Damn you Caracalla." He hissed.

You stood up and approached the two of them. "If that's what it takes, I must go, Marcus. I will be free after the council declares so, right?"

"No, something doesn't feel right. And I can't just trust the guards with Macrinus still out there. That cunt will surely do something to disrupt the council."

"So what do we do, sir?”

"It would be best for her to wait elsewhere until the council has made its decision."

"Where else can I stay for the time being?" You asked, looking at him.

"Somewhere where he or the guards can't find you easily," he murmured. Then something must have occurred to him because he smiled and turned to Octavius. "Inform a few men and station them by the poorhouse. Lady Aurelia will stay there until the council is over."

"Yes, sir."

"Off you go, quickly!"

Octavius nodded and rushed towards his horse.

"Will I be staying in the poorhouse?" You were surprised.

"Yes, my lady, it is safer for you to stay there. Most of the Praetorian guards are still on Macrinus' side. Why do you think I put men in the palace in the first place? Come now my love, I need get you to there as soon as possible.”

Upon your arrival at the poorhouse, you were greeted by the soldiers he had sent for, who were already there. You were feeling somewhat fatigued. The children approached you and gathered around you, expressing their longing for your presence. You smiled at them, although your body was rather tired. Marcus was quick to perceive this and called out to the women in the vicinity.

"Prepare a seat for the princess to make her comfortable."

They nodded and carried a lectus to the courtyard. Marcus made you sit and knelt down next to you, taking your hand in his.

"My love, please await here patiently. Once this is all over, I shall send the carriage to retrieve you."

"Do not concern yourself with me. Please attend to Geta at the council; he will need your presence, there.”

He nodded. "It will all be over soon, my lady and I will then be solely focused on exploring the possibilities of returning home from my duties at an earlier hour." He kissed the top of your hand and stood up. "I will arrange for you to be taken as soon as the council makes a decision.” He said, mounting. He looked at you one last time before he kicked his horse forward. You smiled at him.

Once he'd left, you closed your eyes and leaned back to get some rest. The soldiers who had stayed to keep an eye on you spread out and, like you, waited to see what the council would decide.

After a short rest, a few of the boys you had met earlier approached you and asked you questions about Marcus. They saw him as a hero. You had a long chat about his armour, his sword and the tigers he killed in the Colosseum. You found yourself hoping that one day you might be able to have a chat with your own children about their father and his victories. You had hoped to give Marcus a son. You hoped to raise a son who was as brave, fearless, and good-hearted as Marcus.

It was not long after noon when the sound of a carriage's wheels and the echo of horses' hooves pounding on the stone streets was heard. When the soldiers gathered there, you stood up and looked around curiously. One of the soldiers then demanded that the coachman identify himself.

"Sir, General Acacius sent me here to take Lady Aurelia to Palatine Hill." He said to them.

"Has the Council announced their decision?" You asked.

The man bowed his head. "Forgive me, my lady, I am not yet informed, I am merely following orders, the General has ordered me to take you."

"We will accompany you, my lady," said one of the soldiers.

You nodded. Marcus had given them strict orders, after all. One of them helped you into the carriage and you sat down. The council meeting was over sooner than you thought it would be, but Marcus wouldn't have sent it for you if the decision hadn't been made. You couldn't wait to get back to him and then back to the villa together. You were filled with excitement.

However, the carriage suddenly stopped with a loud horse neighed. You gripped your seat tightly to prevent yourself from falling.

"My lady, forgive me!" the coachman called out to you.

You peeked out the door to see what was going on. The road ahead was obstructed by the overturned carts of market vendors. It seemed as though the owners of the carts were engaged in a discussion.

"Head to the other way, turn round now!" One of the soldiers shouted at the coachman. He then turned toward you. "My lady, please get inside and sit down."

You did as he said. The coachman turned his horses in the other direction and entered a narrow alleyway, causing a slower pace of travel while the soldiers followed the carriage from behind. After traversing a few streets, the coachman brought his horses to a halt once more. And before the soldiers had a chance to react, they were struck by arrows that came from nowhere. When you heard horses neighed loudly by fear, you rushed out and were shocked by the sight you saw. They had fallen from their horses and perished from the arrows that had struck their bodies. You looked ahead and saw a few Praetorian guards with bows in their hands.

"Lady Aurelia."

A chill ran down your spine as you heard the familiar voice. You turned your head slowly to face him.

Macrinus approached you with an arrogant grin. "Did you miss me?”

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[kabuki-writes]

A Reflection Of Venus

chapter: 1 of ?

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.

warning(s): mention of alcohol consumption | swearing | sexual implications | semi-edited | english is not my first language, faults may occur | please let me know if i missed anything

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.

[blueberrypancakesworld]

The treatment of a god

Caracalla x wife!reader

warning : fluff, kissing, hurt/comfort, touching, mention of family problems and illness, drinking alcohol, no use of Y/n

Summary : The emperors of Rome, brothers with two sides, one more political the other more brutal. Both enjoyed the pleasures of disguise and make-up, a make-up which, especially in the case of Caracalla, served more than just to exalt the gods. A face consumed by illness and madness, the emperor can barely cope with himself, only to find love late at night in the arms of his beloved.

info : You wanted more Caracalla and you got more Caracalla, have fun with this sweet work and again thanks for the support:)

masterlist

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

Rome had many wonders to offer from the sheer size of the world's city that you could only pass through once you had crossed the gate with Romolus and Remus, a story of origins. Two brothers united by blood and dying in blood had built Rome, the city that could and would take over almost the whole world.

A battle in the Colosseum amused the people and above all amused the two emperors who appeared in the guise of Apollo and a young boy. Geta spoke for the gods and Caracalla looked younger every time he spoke…at least he trie.d to

One invasion, one sea battle and one conquest after another followed in the last years of General Acacius, the leader of the Roman troops.

A victory that was celebrated every time and what would a victory be without a battle in the Colosseum?

Only a few knew what the bloodthirsty man was up to, which is the reason why his cheeks seemed to get rosier and rosier and his make-up a bright white, which is why he seemed to get more and more vicious with every fight in the arena.

His nervous up and down on the chair, the screaming and almost jumping into the fight himself was not just the excitement of the fights.

The fewest of them only affected his wife and brother, who were the closest and most familiar to him. The two looked with a worried look at the blond who was busy with Dundus, the little monkey as so often demanded nuts and grapes from his owner and friend and got them immediately

After another fight yesterday in the Coloseum, they had to pull Caracalla back from the edge of the stage when he had another fit of rage when the gladiator died not by the sword but by an arrow-not the way he wanted.

He had almost fallen down and lost his golden lorber wreath before the imperial family had him back. ,,I'd forgotten just how corroded his countenance was," Geta admitted, looking bitterly from his brother to his wine glass, the red liquid only partially soothing their minds, nodding in agreement before they both took a sip.

They had left the tribune shortly afterwards and as they held Caracalla, his make-up was smudged, his skin covered in scars and splits that the emperor hardly seemed to recognise, too often seeing himself as a handsome man rather than one consumed by disease.

What Geta gained in godliness when he dressed and made up, what she gained in dazzling beauty, Caracalla looked more like a play than an emperor.

,,Make-up can hide a lot, but not my concern. He nearly fell down, such a fit in the Senate…what should we do?’ she asked, feeling helpless and putting down the wine glass with a sigh, as drowning in worry was never a good idea, especially now that the situation was so tense.

Geta's hand laid briefly on her shoulder, a gentle squeeze and a brief smile, but he had no answer, they had always been through every fit and yet there was no relief from such madness.

No one but the gods would be able to stop such a madness, such an illness. giving her brother-in-law a quick thank you look, she said goodbye to Geta who gave her a kiss on the ring before turning to his brother.

A quick wave and a ,,Brother! I'll leave you now, you should rest tomorrow is another day full of endeavours’ Geta said goodbye, they saw Caracalla rise from his throne and hurry over to the two of them.

,,I'll see you again when the sun rises, brother," Caracalla replied to his brother in a brief embrace, he loved him, loved him when everything was in order again, before the taller one withdrew from the throne room to go to his own chamber and leave the couple alone.

But by the look on her husband's face she could see that he had forgotten what tomorrow was, ,,We should go to bed my love, tomorrow new laws will be introduced remember?" she asked quietly as he took her hand.

He stroked her golden rings as he thought, but the brief shake of her head let her know that his mind must have been in chaos again. His memory seemed to be getting more and more corroded, a thing that frightened her more than anything else.

With the screech of Dundus following the couple, the last of them left the throne room to get ready for bed, a little ritual of undressing together that she hoped would awaken his memories.

,,The sun is setting," Caracalla said happily, not only looking out of the window but also pointing to the two-seater where the material was already to be found, nodding in agreement as she gradually slipped out of her jewellery, the soft tinkling seeming to reassure him, his bright eyes not moving from her figure as if attracted.

A grin that was almost like a lecherous snake on his lips, he looked at her as her toga slipped from her body and she put on her sleeping robe naked, black fabric with golden embellishments lying loosely on her body.

,,My wife is as beautiful as the sun" he said and she saw that his gaze had calmed down, he was no longer jittery, no overjoy, he was hers again…he was the Emperor Caracalla her husband again.

Moving to him, she sat down opposite him, his hand sought hers and ran over the soft skin, she saw again how he was thinking, ,,Tomorrow is the Senate law, isn't it?" he asked calmly, seeming to have hope that it was right, a truth she rewarded with a kiss on his forehead.

Praise, a kiss that made him smile, something he returned, savouring a moment of love before she reached for the cloth dipped in water.

He saw how he turned away, his face turned away from her even if he only had a dull feeling of what he had done or none at all, his conscience seemed to plague him, ,,You'll only scare yourself, let me do it myself," he demanded and wanted to take the cloth from her hand, which she held away from him.

It hurt him not to be able to look at himself, not to see her pity-covered gaze and it hurt her that he refused and hid from her like that. As a couple, as husband and wife, they accepted each other as they were and even the madness of illness would not change that.

Lifting her hand carefully, she placed it on his cheek, stroking the already slightly smudged make-up and feeling the lightly scarred skin underneath.

,,No matter how much it may frighten me, I love you my king and no madness can change that," she told him, leaning her forehead against his, the tips of their noses almost touching and soul mirror meeting soul mirror.

They held each other as he took the moment to entangle her in another kiss, hands clinging to her with a certain firmness out of fear that she would ever leave him.

A fear she would never allow, she was too addicted to her beloved, had gotten him through his bouts to ever leave him.

He broke away with a gentle smile, a grateful look in his blue eyes as he held still to allow her to remove the make-up, it didn't hurt physically.

The scars that had long been on him and the other marks he had received didn't hurt, it was his mind that suffered, his actions and his emotions that were all the more painful for others.

Carefully moving the cloth over his lips, the bright red, the make-up stained the cloth and a light normal tone came to the fore as the smallest scars and cracks were visible.

As the cloth continued to slide over his face a quiet abandonment and no amusement seemed to slowly return to his cosy wandering as his hands moved away from hers and slowly slid over her thighs.

It didn't matter, every other scar and disfigurement that appeared was nothing new to her and a sign of his strength, despite the madness he was not dead, despite his difficult birth he was not dead.

Caracalla was here and loved her, that was all that mattered.

Her husband traced the golden ornament every now and then, rejoicing when he had finished one only to begin another, working his way up her body and briefly placing his hands on her breasts.

Something he did sometimes out of lust as well as love and amusement, she was his, ,,A beauty you are with your divine patience and love" he praised her as moments later she took the cloth from him and saw the face she had married, loved and vowed to protect.

Letting him play for a moment longer she savoured the touch not inexperienced, he knew what she needed and what he himself wanted when he traced her form and lingered briefly on her neck.

His gentleness focussed on her inside and out, from her pretty blood as it was called to her divine appearance when he first laid eyes on her.

Instead of a kiss, he leaned against her, his head on her chest, his fingers searching for a pulse on her artery, the steady beat of her heart calming him as she held him, closing her eyes and just feeling his being to confirm that he was with her.

,,Thank you… for your patience with me, for your care… for everything," he murmured and slowly detached himself from her, she saw him playing with his fingers in embarrassment before she rose with him.

,,Always Caracalla, we are a family, no madness or disgust will change that…besides, the Coloseum would lose its most loyal spectator if you weren't here," she said with a grin and saw his cosy smile lift to reveal his gold tooth and he took her hand once more before the couple lay down in bed together.

Surrounded by warm furs and soft pillows, they lay next to each other, Caracalla stroking her fingers over and over again, feeling her heartbeat on her wrist as a song helped him fall asleep, ‘I love you’ coming from him in the darkness.

As he turned to her and moved closer to her, blond curls tousled, words she returned and followed with a goodnight kiss on the tip of his nose before he snuggled against her, holding him while the madness and worry faded into a loving sleep together, because what mattered most between them was their everlasting love,

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

@k-yurieee , @somepallings , @cottoncandiescupcakes , @loganskittycatears , @alwayshiccupandastrid-blog @potatoesenpaii

[writingblogsandothers]

The Chosen One

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: Mild Mocking, Mild Fear (Nothing descriptive)

Use of She/Her/Lady - Female Pronouns

It started off like any other day in the Marino homestead. Aurelia Marino was the first to rise, gathering her clothing and shoes for another tiresome day on the family farm. She thanked the gods her father was kind enough to take the heavier jobs dealing with the livestock, along with her two older brothers. Aurelia made her way to their small allotments to gather any fruits and grains she could harvest to bring back to her mother, who sold the goods just outside the large capital, Rome.

The sun shone bright yet hazed with its beautiful creamy-yellow hue. Aurelia stood back, closed her eyes and took a deep inhale, absorbing the early morning rays, feeling thankful for everything that she and her family has. They certainly didn’t have much, with the family often sharing meals which should feed two and making do with their less than favourable living arrangements. It mightn’t have been everyone’s dream, but for the Marino’s? It was home.

She made her way home and delivered the goods to her mother, who made her way into the capital, along with Aurelia’s aunt. The home had seen better days, so Aurelia took to cleaning from top to bottom. It consisted of 2 rooms – one for living quarters, and one for sleeping. Aurelia was a daydreamer, which helped her in ways zone out of the monotonous tasks she endured daily. She dreamed of a life far away from the farm, perhaps even out of Rome, with her one true love and their life which they live in no fear and without worry. Now that’s the dream.

“Aurelia…. AURELIA!” startled, Aurelia turned to find her mother in a fluster.

“What ever is the matter, Mater?” she asked.

“Daughter, we have just returned from the Capital. The guards are out, exclaiming how the Emperor wishes to settle… they want to find him a wife! I was thinking we should bring you to him, to the Guards, to whoever will see you. I know what they say about him, but surely the life you would have would supersede that, and who knows maybe they aren’t as bad as they are painted. Oh Aurelia, this is such an opportunity for you to-…” her mother exclaims without hardly stopping for air.

Aurelia looks puzzled. She does not understand why this information should be relevant to her. She cuts her off, “Mater, please sit and calm. I do not know why this is important to us? We have heard stories mother and we have seen firsthand what the Emperors are capable of. They are vile in nature. The misfortune they spring onto the people of Rome and they laugh? Besides, we both know the Emperor should not want common people like us. He will want to marry a high-status lady. Why should we worry?”

Her mother, Julia, looks deflated and slumps in her seat. Tears form in her eyes. She looks to her daughter, “Aurelia, I am sorry. I got myself so excited when I heard the news. I only wish the very best for you. I know what the Emperors are, but the lifestyle they have, it could not compare with what myself and your father could ever give to you. You work so tirelessly hard around here, and I want you to have a life I could have only dreamed of. I am sorry I could not give this to you now…”

Aurelia sighs not liking seeing her mother so deflated, Julia interjects, “Anyway, forget my outburst. Let us prepare a meal for your father and brothers.”

Up at Palatine Hill, there were great deliberations occurring. One member of the Senate announces, “Caesar, I do not wish to inflict my decision upon you, but I must stress how we must be very selective over who we choose. We do not wish to weaken your hard-earned line of succession, it wo-”

“QUIET!” A screech overpowers the Senate member. The hall grows deathly silent, so much so the slightest move of a finger was heard. Caracalla sneers in the corner, observing his little brother’s outburst with great delight.

“Tell the Guards to fetch me every eligible woman in the immediate area. We are to have them presented to me and my brother by midday tomorrow. Any status, I want to see them all, peasant or not.” Geta affirms loud and clear to their subordinates.

Caracalla rises from his seat with Dundus on his shoulder, with a merciful “HA!”, “The instruction is clear, we want to see them all. We would like to get some sort of amusement out of this day, so the more peasantry the better! Now off you go, find us ladies!”

There was no movement in the room until Geta announced, “Did you not hear my brother, you disobedient fools – be on your way!”

The Praetorian officials who were present quickly collected themselves and made their way to arrange the troops.

The two brothers burst out into what could only be described as maniacal laughter, at a combination of the misfortune of the potential ‘suitors’ and whatever plans they were outlining for their futures. The Senate looked on in horror as they saw the ‘Twins’ conjuring up their next scheming plans for goodness knows what. Only the gods know what they could be scheming now.

It was turning to nightfall quickly, and Aurelia was preparing the bedding for the family, and folding away any washing she had completed during the day. The gallant sound of trotting began to get louder and louder and began to puzzle Aurelia. She walked out into the living quarters where her family were gathered. Her father was about to speak when he was cut off by three sharp knocks at their barely held together door.

Fear shoots through Aurelia. Who could be calling at their door at this hour? It could only mean trouble.

Her father rises, with her brothers swiftly behind, and opens their door. Stood proudly were three Praetorian soldiers, with scroll in hand. “Hello, how may we help you Sires?” Augustus, her father spoke.

The Praetorian soldiers in a half scoff announced, “We are here to demand the presence of the lady, Aurelia Marino, for their highnesses Emperors Geta and Caracalla. She is to present herself along with a chaperone to the Colosseum at precisely midday tomorrow. It is expected she preen herself to look her best as she is to be compared amongst all other ladies of the nearby land in a bid to be betrothed to the great Emperor Geta.” They look behind Augustus to see Aurelia standing sheepishly, hands entwined within each other, hair scooped back and the rags of today on her for clothing. With a snort, they announce “We can see you have your work ahead of you, so we shall leave you to prepare.” They giggle like school children amongst themselves and make their way back to their horses.

Almost like a sixth sense, her father feels Aurelia’s fear from behind his slight frame and bravely shouts after the soldiers demanding, “And what if we do not attend?”. The lead commander of the group, already mounted on his horse turns to look over his shoulder, “You and your daughter will face the arena, and you best pray that the gods are in your favour that day.” Off the calvary took, leaving Aurelia feeling like a dormouse.

“Am I truly that hideous that they must laugh in my face?” her confidence, the little she had, was shattered. Her mother looks disgusted and explains, “My dear child, you are of kind face and mind. You are beautiful both inside and out. You mustn’t worry of the thoughts of the others; they are as ugly inside as they are out.” Aurelia half laughs, and shrugs away a tear from her eye. Julia continues, “Mea amor, anyone, including the Emperor would be lucky to have you. I know I was excited earlier at the prospect, but now its so real, I pray to the gods you are dismissed.”

“Thank you Mater.” Aurelia draws a deep breath, sighs, and continues “I am going to prepare for tomorrow. I shall see you in the morning.”. She takes herself off to her side of sleeping quarters and hunts out her best outfit, which in Aurelia’s case is a plain tunic that is lacking holes (or as little as possible).

As the night draws on, Aurelia finds it more and more difficult to fall asleep at the prospects of being put in front of the co-emperors tomorrow. She tosses and turns so much that she excuses herself to the living quarters to reside there, in a bid to disturb her family less. Finally, the tiredness wins, and sleep consumes her.

The commute to the Colosseum usually was full of excitement for Aurelia and her father. It usually meant a day of entertainment, and quality family time – full of joy, excitement. Today couldn’t be further from that sentiment – it reeked of fear. As the pair strode up the narrow-walled street to the grand building, Augustus stopped suddenly. Turning to his daughter, he spoke gently, “Aurelia, you do not have to attend. I will see to fight in the arena if it means your freedom.” Tears welled up in her eyes as she spoke, “Pater, he will not even look at me no doubt. Please do not put your life before mine, especially for such trivial matters. Let us attend to see it through and get back to our lives.” The pair breathed deeply in and began the uneven trekking once more.

On approach, the queues of ladies with their chaperones started and continued right around the vicinity of Palatine Hill. ‘How are they ever going to see all in one day?’, Aurelia asked herself. She and her father began their queueing and waited with bated breath to see how the fates lay.

It was nearing nightfall before Augustus and Aurelia entered what could only be described as a colossal banqueting hall. Up ahead in the distance, Aurelia caught glimpse of bright orange locks, flailing hands, and maniacal laughter. She knew it would be only too soon before she would approach the Emperors.

A guard confirmed her identity, and instructed her and her father to move forward. She knew she was now next. The intensity of this strange situation was palpable. I mean would it be so bad to become an Empress? It would mean she could provide more for her family, and lessen the burden on her mother and father, who were not getting any younger. And as much as it pained her to admit it, there were much less handsome suitors to be paired with. Perhaps however with a little less bloodthirst.

Taking her out of her trace, was a guard announcing “… -side Rome, Augustus Marino with his daughter, Aurelia.” She and her father bowed before the Emperors, not daring to look either in the eye. She could hear one of them saying something to the other, with a huge cackle to finish their commentary. Bravely, looking from under her brow, she caught sight of Geta staring intently at her, with a woman either side of him, softly touching him, meanwhile Caracalla seemed to be enjoying this charade with an entourage of both men and women at his side.

Geta rises from his chair. He swiftly moves his hands to signal to her father to step back from her.

“Speak Girl. What is your name again?” Geta asked with intense authority.

“Aurelia, your Highness.”

“Golden.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Golden. Your name, it’s meaning.”

“C-Caesar, please forgive me I did not know this fact. I-I-I thank you for bestowing me with such knowledge.”

Caracalla begins to laugh hysterically, “Brother, she is so weak and feeble. ‘Please Sire, Yes Sire’. It’s rather quite pathetic but marvellous to observe.” Geta begins to laugh in approval with his brother, “Yes brother, you’re right!”

Geta moves forward with great authority, and Aurelia flinches. He swarms her, taking in every detail about her, from the way her skin shines in the last of the day’s sun; her hair and how it cascades down her shoulders; her eyes and the piercing blue contrasting all what seems to dull about her; the clothing she wears and how it looks like rags not even his cleaners would dare be seen to use in his presence. Yet, with all, there’s something so dearly capturing about this one, that he dares not let show.

He was about to step even closer, but was interrupted by his brother’s clashing tones, “She really is rather miserable. I mean look at her father.” Mockingly he begins, “Sir, Sir, please how much money does one have on his person? I bet Dundus has more to carry in her purse than you!” After listening to Caracalla’s laughter for a second too long, Augustus holds back any sign of animosity, and starts “Emperors, please forgive me, I try my best. I work hard to keep a roof over my family’s head and food on our table. I previously fought for Rome, but had to reside to my current life after I was let go. My daughter is a wonderful person, I may not be able to give you anything in terms of material earnings, but my daughter pays for that tenfold, she-”. He was caught off my Geta rising his arm, while staring intently at Aurelia. Ignoring his brother’s ignorance, and her father’s pathetic cries, Geta leant closer into Aurelia, who could feel him breathing on her soft skin. With a swift move of his hand, he swept the hair away from her shoulder to get closer to her ear.

“You should be thanking the gods, Aurelia… gold is my favourite metal.”

She shivered in response, while Geta looked at her with what she didn’t know was sheer disgust or intrigue. Turning on his heels, he ushered away the ladies who were once at his side and sat with authority. Giving the guards a look, he announced, “Let it be known that I am to be betrothed this coming week to Aurelia Marino. We will bare the heirs of utter greatness and Rome will live on and conquer once more. Praise gods.”

There was a cue of sighs and ‘praises’ behind Aurelia and her father with those waiting to be seen by the Emperors dismissed.

Sneering at Augustus, Geta sweeps past the two of them without so much as looking in Aurelia’s direction. A guard approaches Aurelia and instructs her, “Lady, we must now take you to your new living quarters. Bid your farewells and follow us.”

She and her father stare at one another in sheer shock. Neither knowing what had just happened. She hugs her father tightly whilst crying into his shoulder, but she keeps reminding herself that this should work for her family’s favour. They need not worry about materials no longer; she would see they were all looked after.

Aurelia set on her way to follow the guards, with one last look over her shoulder to see her teary father and turning back to pave her way in a new life. A new world.

[multific]

Long Live The Empress of Rome

Emperor Geta x Sorceress!Reader

Summary: You promised to keep him safe. It was part of your job as his wife. And in return, you received his heart and the power you always wanted. 

A/N: This contains spoilers for the movie! This is also an AU fiction.

Ever since you were little you had powers.

One might think you were a Goddess. And they wouldn't be far off.

You could hear people's thoughts and control the elements.

Throughout your life, you have perfected these powers.

You hid them well from most people. 

But you were unable to hide it from The Emperor.

While you were rather calm, a storm raged inside you. Behind your calm and collected demeanour, you were actually quite the opposite.

Emperor Geta was not like that.

He mostly pretended to be sane, but he truly had no reason to.

He and his brother led an empire that wasn't kind.

But you enjoyed it.

Sometimes, Rome was exactly how you felt on the side.

Rotten to the core.

You liked it.

And you liked the Emperors.

Mostly Emperor Geta.

Who was not shy about showing you just how much he liked you. 

His interest in you was beyond interesting. 

Of course, he was used to having women around, but you, you were different.

And soon, you became his biggest obsession.

A simple woman he thought you were, but your beauty and wit were undeniable. 

It came to you as no surprise that he took a liking to you. What did surprise you, however, was that you also felt the same way.

It's not like you weren't interested in men before, and sometimes even women. But Geta was different.

So different from everyone.

You liked that.

He matched you perfectly.

He claimed you to be his wife the second time you met him.

Your wedding was just as grand as the crowning of the Emperors. 

"My Beautiful Empress," he whispered as the priest declared you wife and husband in front of the Gods.

And so, you became the Empress to Emperor Geta.

Emperor Caracalla on the other hand was not as fond of you. He often claimed a dark and cold chill running down his spine whenever he saw you. Little did he know the truth.

Geta fell in love with you.

He liked your cold demeanour and your hidden rage.

He liked you for you.

Not your powers or beauty. Although beauty was a major factor in getting your hand in marriage.

Later on, he found out about your powers when you were attacked one night.

Even his soldiers couldn't stop the angry people who wanted nothing more than to kill.

Geta watched as you murdered them all, with a simple move of your finger all of them fell to the ground.

Your husband found out your true self.

"The Gods sent me a Goddess. A Goddess of my own, My Wife." 

Rumours of a Dark Empress began to spread, but that is all they were in the eyes of most, rumours.

There you were, sitting next to him in the Colosseum. 

Enjoying the blood and games.

Some gladiators were more promising than the next.

The Emperors enjoyed the games and so did you.

Macrinus sat right behind you, you heard whispers from his thoughts.

A plan.

A sinister plan to overthrow your husband and his brother.

But you smirked, knowing he was not aware of your full potential.

Macrinus truly thought you were going to be the easiest to take out from the bunch. He formed a very complicated plan for the overthrow of the Emperors while he hired men to kill you. 

You slightly turned your head and offered him a look. He nodded his head, thinking you were praising him for his newest Gladiator.

You watched as the rhino ran into the wall, grabbing your husband's hand you turned to whisper into his ear.

"I wish to heal the animal."

"Whatever My Sweet Wife wishes." he kissed the back of your hand.

Even if you didn't like people, you loved animals.

After the games, you retrieved into your home, back to your room.

"Crimes are being committed against us. Right in front of our eyes," you said as Geta closed the door behind himself.

"What did you hear?"

"Macrinus has a plot. A sinister and twisted plot. He wishes to rule."

"Treason!"

"I will deal with him. Do not worry yourself with peasants like him, My Love."

"What would I do without you?"

"You would be beheaded." you smiled and he wanted to laugh but the seriousness of your tone changed his mind very fast.

"Will there be blood?" he asked, hope-filled in his voice.

You nodded, and his smile grew. 

"Lots of blood. But not ours, nor your brother's." 

"Long live the Empress," he said as he leaned in to kiss you, but just as he was about to, you spoke.

"Long live us," you replied before pulling him in for a kiss.

---

The next morning you woke up, and your husband was still asleep.

You headed to the balcony, taking in the smell of smoke.

You grabbed onto the railings, everyone's thoughts filled your mind, and you often found it to be overwhelming.

Hearing everyone's thoughts, some people were louder while others were quieter.

You weren't sure why that was, it was all you ever knew. 

Geta's thoughts were usually silent, even his most wicked ones, you used to struggle to be able to read his thoughts until you gave up. It was rare but it did happen from time to time in the past. 

You can sometimes hear words from him but not full sentences. 

But you didn’t have to hear them to know what he was thinking. 

A word you constantly heard was “Beautiful.”

Simple. 

Kind. 

You love him. 

But even with powers like Gods, it could become too much to handle. In those moments, Geta was always there by your side.

As if he knew you needed some reassurance.

And this time was no different. 

He soon pulled you close and hugged you from behind.

"Is My Wife happy?" 

"I am." you truly were.

"What will you do with Macrinus?"

"I spoke with your brother, and warned him of the plan, I suspect he was too drunk to remember so I sent him a dream. I'm sure he understands, he usually does."

"And what about the Poet Gladiator?"

"Lucius? He claims he wants to free Rome." you turned around in his arms. "But Rome will never be free. During the games today, I have a special plan for the lost prince of Rome." you lifted your hand and ran it through his hair. "I'm sure you will like it."

And he did.

Killing four birds with one stone.

Lucius, his mother, Acacius and Macrinus. 

What a delight it truly was.

Unfortunately, the tiger seemed too big of a task for the men, trying to save Lucilla. 

A completely normal tiger at that... of course, you had no hand in the matter. 

And Macrinus? 

For being a traitor, his head was placed by the walls of Rome. Setting an example to all who dare even think about overthrowing the Emperors.

"My Love. My Beautiful Wife." as he stood in front of you, out on your balcony, the moon lit the night as you heard the people or Rome riot, all you could think of was how beautiful his eyes were.

As he looked at you with the most love.

Taglist: 

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

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

@fallout-girl219 @dracaryxzs @snowtargaryen 

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

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

[mmkkzz]

Here is an idea for a Gladiator 2 fanfiction Lucius Verus/OC. I’m a terrible writer but definitely have some ideas for stories if anyone wants to write this story.

The idea is that the story can be an about girl that is Lucilla’s ward , when her parents died Lucilla took in the girl and raises her from a young age and grew up with Lucius. Lucius being a couple years older than her. Was always a spirited girl that always had a play sword in hand when her and Lucius would pretend to be gladiators like Maximus growing up. From a young age she and Lucius always cared for each deeply. Even though lucilla would ways teach her to be a lady she was always would take any opportunity to learn how to fight. When Lucius is sent away she wanted to go with him but wasn’t able to which both devastated them. As the years went on lucilla remarried to Marcus acacius which became a father figure to her and he thought of the girl as his own and taught her more how to fight and they became close. Taught her everything he knew from hand to hand combat, sword fighting, archery and horse riding. Lucilla taught her everything she knew about being a lady but also learning the art of being a healer as well. But she always missed Lucius as the years go on. As she grew older she became a beauty that didn’t go unnoticed by both the emperors, Marcus has tried to protect her from a marriage with geta. Even though she was at an age that she should have been married by then. Anyways, she would sneak out of the palace a lot to go train with the gladiators that macrinus would purchase. Thats when she reunites with Lucius and it’s like nothing has ever changed even though she can see that he is full of vengeance and grief from what he has been through in his life away in Africa. They start to fall for each other again but it becomes complicated when he finds out that the general he wants revenge on is the father figure of his love. The story will follow the movie. I haven’t seen it yet but idk I think it would be a cool story.

If anyone wants to take on this story be my guest.

[dollyonm0lly]

Geta and Caracalla arguing over who will be inside your pussy today, it's always a fight between them, not that they don't like being in your ass, it's tight and makes them cum on the spot, however, the one in your pussy must be your favorite since it's the one that will implant their seeds inside of you to breed you, or so they say.

On days that these fights get too restless, you just end up full of both of them inside you, both forcibly penetrating your wet insides, one trying to outdo the other in terms of who gets it first. It's good tho, when they finally get to synchronize in the same rhythm, dirty words and sweet nothings on your ears while both attack your poor neck.

It's a fight again when they finish that hole and now they both want to use your ass.

I just love me some good double penetration. 🤭

[trainer-from-unova]

I have some Geta x F!Reader x Caracalla fanfic ideas in mind and I started writing a WIP... Stay tuned folks...

[trulyumai]

sweet wine and messy lips

pairing: emperor geta / empress! reader

synopsis: in which geta and his wife get drunk. even clumsy and lost in a stupor, the emperor still tries to adore you in his own way.

warnings: geta talking down to people, grabbing.

a/n: im re-entering my heimdall phase (gow2) so be on the lookout for that and I apologize in advance for another hyper fixation taking me over completely

enjoy!

your hand nudged the goblet towards geta, tipping it ever so slowly to his lips until a bright maroon dusted across the pink expansion.

“try it— you’ll like it my liege I swear it!”

Geta only scoffed, his cheeks red with drunken clumsiness.

“get that away from me, wife. I’d rather drink poison than to sip on such a disgrace of wine.”

you pouted instantly, already drunk yourself, the sweet wine wafted off your figure like a cheap oil. “pretty please, husband? it’s got all the flavors you like,”

listing them off slowly, your other hand began its decent up his arm and finding passage massaging his shoulder. Geta, ever soft for your hands couldn’t help but relax in such a comforting hold.

“cherries, a hint of cinnamon—“

gods you smelled divine.

so sweet, so alluring to the man that he could sweep you off your feet right then and there.

“did I say grapes? it has honey too, just the right amount—

“wife,” the emperor shuddered. your fingernails found their way up his chest, lightly circling and smoothing their way across it as you were lost in thought, too busy naming of ingredients instead of paying attention to the now flustered lord.

“wife!” Geta interrupted, seizing your moving hand with his own ringed one.

fearing you did something wrong, your posture instantly froze; rigid and stiff.

‘calmly, you fool.’ Geta’s thoughts rang out, his grip lightened and with a feathery touch made its way to the jawline just in front of him.

clenched and tightened with stressful thinking.

“I… apologize, little wife,” he finally gritted out. you were so beautiful tonight. it’s as if the stars molded across your eyes and lit up the expansion of your pupils with untold dreams and conquests.

He wanted to drown in them.

“im tired, hm?”

your lip wobbled before a look of surprise took over the reddened and messy features you displayed.

“of course, my emperor! how could I be so silly?”

getting up off the man’s lap, you felt a tug upon the material of your robe.

it was light, but firm enough for you to turn your neck back around with a slow uneasiness and to the emperor once more.

he laid comfortably against the seat, sagging into it while his legs spread with enough of a widened expansion for your body to mold into.

his arm, the one that wasn’t connected to your delicate robes— sat against the ginger hairs littering his head, with his fingers pushed against the pale temple, making his upper body lean to the side.

he looked relaxed. happy, one might say.

“you will return with me, won’t you, wife?” although it sounded like a question, you knew it wasn’t.

even in your drunken state, the man’s stature—his temper is a trait you won’t easily forget.

so instead of having one more glass, like you had intentions of doing, you nodded in agreement.

it’s all geta needed to hear, or rather, see before clumsily gathering himself out of the throne.

instantly, the party goers raised, bowing their head completely before the man could demand them of it.

usually, the emperor would make a show of this. mumble on about how well trained they are, how obedient.

“their more like animals,” he would scoff, laughing vehemently while tugging you along. possessive fingers grazing your waist with the cool feeling of the rings brushing against any revealing skin.

such a touch brought you back to the present, cold and calculated against the backside of your dress.

following your husbands bounding steps, you avoided the looks that were thrown your way. it wasn’t wise to get drunk in front of so many people, you knew it wasn’t.

but geta had insisted.

“we’re winning the war, dearest.” he had all but giggled, pouring heaps of wine into your (once) empty goblet.

“I ordered it special for you, drink up before Caracalla gets to it, hm?”

you had peered into the drink with newfound interest. a little smile entered your face and pushed against your cheeks. such a sight almost made the emperor flustered—he’d blame it on the wine, most definitely.

it was indeed a light red, the color of the sweet wine you always loved to sip on. upon closer inspection, the smell made its way up and into your senses.

what was a few drinks? you had thought. And with a quick note of appreciation to your husband, the goblet had graced your lips.

who knew it would bring you here, barely holding yourself up against geta as you both made way for the chambers?

his left palm spread out easily against your back. with a firm hold he took lead, guiding you through the stone walls and to the bed that was calling his name.

his other hand braced against the rough wall to the side—just in case he needed to push against it.

“husband?” he heard you call out, with a low drawled out hum, geta responded.

“thank you for the wine.” your sweet voice spoke so low.. so softly against the muffled laughter and voices that spilled out of the throne room.

his fingers came up to the back of your neck, seizing it with a loving grip before his lips crashed upon the top of your head.

he had aimed for your cheek, but this will do.

“anything for you, lovely.” geta purred against the softened locks, already his arms snuck their way under your buttocks, groping and touching the flesh there.

the guards had to move a bit behind, just beside the corner of the wall to avoid any further groping and kissing that was being displayed.

it was turning out to be a sweet night indeed.

[strawbbzombwie]

When looking at Geta and Caracalla in the trailer, it looks like Geta may be the eldest of the two and here are my thoughts why:

I think the body language could be a giveaway. When looking at Caracalla, his eyes seem to be looking at other people whereas Geta’s eyes are set on what is on front of him. Geta also looks like he carries himself with more confidence and power while Caracalla seems like he is living in his brothers shadow.

His facial expressions also display a childlike manner, most likely showing his immaturity. For exapmple, when the bow gets shot near the two of them, Geta looks startled but Caracalla looks like he is screaming and seems more startled and is sort of cowering in fear. Contrastingly, Geta seems more cold and suppresses his emotions, saving them for when he is riled up or anticipating something (like for example the end scene of the trailer).

Analysis aside, I think this film will be a very interesting one to watch and I will be impatiently waiting for November to arrive😔

*this is just my own analysis and what I believe so do with it what you will❤️*

[punk-in-docs]

A song of brides and hounds: part III

— Emperor Geta x Reader (Salacia)

— 4.3k words.

— Read all parts here: Part I — Part II — Part III — Part IV

Summary: You were raised outside of this Rome. Born into peace. To know of fathomless deep seas, and skies so big, they wrapped around your whole sight. The way that at night all you can smell are lemon trees kissed by salt. The jasmine plants wound around the white walls of the villa. Salacia. And now you are sent to Rome for your father in the Senate. There you will catch the attention of Geta; in all the wrong and darkest of ways— any reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated 💙💙💙

TW: for this chapter - mainly violence and some gore, also Caracalla being a nasty little bitch -- enjoy!

The servant girls’ hands are kind.

They undress you softly, and handle you with such reverence. Strip from you the ruined stola and tend your wounds.

They wash your feet, ply your cuts with a herbal paste of yarrow and uva ursi, wrap you in bandages. They rub new sweet smelling oil onto your unwounded skin.

Pick off your old jewellery and finery to be discarded. Slip you out your shoes. Lay you bare. Stood before them in naught but your skin as they tend you.

One is wetting, oiling and combing your netted hair to silky serenity again. Another is cleaning the wound on your elbow. All traces of dirt - and your previous life along with it - slowly removed.

Stood you in a shallow golden tub of warm water that laps at your ankles. Milky with oils and soaps. They put rose petals in the water. You watch them swim and dip.

You beg for one of the girls to keep the fibulae broaches that held your now damned dress to your shoulders. Your very last essence of home. Venus was enshrined in those very broaches. They gave you hope. Carrying a small kind piece of goddess with you. Laying your devotion to the majesty of the ocean on your simple shoulders.

They guided you to rooms draped in blue and gold. Stars moulded on the ceiling with the ornate marble that drips from every wall and corner. Giving the false illusion of a night sky. The flat ceiling between them clouded with bursts and puffs of dark blue that indicated churning night clouds. Boundless skies. Endless seas.

It felt like showing all the maps of the world to a caged bird.

Soft feminine blues befit these chambers. Statues and devotion to goddesses crown the walls and doorways. Urns of large stemmed white flowers. One wall holds a table lined with a huge offering of fruits, dried and fresh. Some bread and cured meats and oiled small fish. And an amphora of wine and goblet for after your bathing.

The air in here is scented all floral herb and clean. Too clean. No hint of sea salt or dried weed that tumbles on the shore to bake in the sun. It’s unfamiliar.

The huge slab of the cushioned bed is draped with silks and gauzy canopy curtains the colour of dove feathers. You don’t want to look at it. You dread thinking what will happen in it tonight.

A large maw of balcony gapes at another side of the room. This shows you the wall of rain outside. The violent tumble of thunder that must be shaking the very hills and peoples of Rome.

You feel as if the sea is raging because you’ve been stolen from it. Now it seeks vengeance on the land. Lashing and storming mercilessly until you’re found. Back where you belong.

Unlikely. It will have to rage on.

You stand, undressed, unseeing. Uncaring for the wealth of the room you’ve been pulled into.

The maid behind you, Oriana, a sweet and silent blonde, is scooping your hair back from your neck to comb and ply it with vanilla and orchid oil. Dark sweet musk.

Geta had specifically requested it.

Your head servant is a maid called Aeliana.

She has an accent you can’t place. It’s pretty, her tone husky. She had wonderful raven hair spilling silky and free over her shoulders, eyes dark as cassia bark, almond shaped. Long lashes. The epitome of tranquil beauty.

The colour of her dress is different to the rest of them. Indicating her higher status. Rusty red and it readily compliments the natural darkness of her skin. She wore golden bangles threaded on each wrist, and her touch is cloud soft.

She has a scar that intersects down from the middle of her forehead, across her left eye and cheek and ends there. Skin twisted and healed shiny. An old wound. It makes her striking to look at.

Worse still; She catches you staring.

Lowers her eyes as she tended you. Layering the sticky wet herbal treatment to your wounded elbow.

“Does my appearance displease you, my lady?” She lapses into silence for a moment or two.

“If you’d prefer I could send for another handmaiden to come tend you-“ She asks. Not harshly. There’s a hint of shame to her tone.

You look to her. Fearful of offence.

“I am not displeased. Forgive me. To stare so openly is rude.” You mutter. Eyes falling to your feet again. You watch rose petals sway on the water. You swallow thickly.

If she’s amused at your asking her, a servant, for forgiveness, she doesn’t show it. She calmly counters;

“You are Empress Salacia of Rome. You are allowed to stare at whomever you wish.” She tells you plainly.

Your eyes water. You bite inside your lower lip before you respond.

Not yet I’m not. And I don’t want to be.

“How came you by the scar?” You ask. Knowing full well you won’t like the answer. She gently washed your shoulder with a cloth.

“The Emperor.” She tells frankly.

At your doe eyed expression of horror she elucidates.

“Not Emperor Geta. His brother, Caracalla. Emperor Geta’s temper may be foul and quick to boil. But, Caracalla he is… far crueler.” She explains.

Your mouth purses into a thin line.

Oriana has finished oiling your hair. Now she was styling it into waves. Decorated with ornaments of netted gold. Geta requested it down as opposed to the normal bridal style. Emperors have what they want.

“What was the reason…” You sought. Fearing the answer.

“I was too slow in bringing his wine one night.” She offers. Plucking a vial of oil from the side table and coming back to rub it into your bare arms.

You squeeze your eyes closed. Ignore the tickle of tears that threaten your scrunched eyelids.

This is the savage world you must inhabit now. Try to navigate with sharper hungrier teeth and deadlier instinct. You don’t feel ready. You must become lionhearted and fierce. Carry knives. Be ruthless.

You hear your mothers reverent voice in your head. Sweet sea child. You were not made that way.

“I am sorry for your pain. Aeliana. But I am grateful for your warning.” You decide.

She nods. “I thank the goddess’ for you. Empress.” She smiles at you.

Before going to the side to fetch your tunica recta, and the belt you’d wear on your waist in a knot of hercules. Which tradition dictated only Geta was allowed to undo.

Your husband.

You wince. Aueliana notices.

“Your majesty?” She seeks. Sensing your unease.

“I am nervous.” You tell her. You confide your worry in this woman with kind eyes and soft hands.

“It is expected of a bride to be nervous.” She awards you.

“I’m not a normal bride.” You confirm fearfully. She can see them shaking in your gaze. Threatening to breach your lash line.

She nods in understanding. You’re sure they all knew. The reason that placed you here. Spread like wildfire on dry plains through the servant halls.

“I know little of managing a husband. Of… starting a family.”

“If I may, your majesty. Your family is a noble one, yes?” She asks.

You nod. You lived in one of the richest houses in Corsica. You were never lacking in money or ribbons and new jewels. But at best you were a senators daughter. Not the ideal stock for an Emperors wife. Not the type to be governing one great nation.

“My grandmother is a well known seer in these parts. A healer. Purveyor of white magic. Many a time she has seen things that have yet to come to pass…” She explains as she wraps the belt around your waist. Speaking as she does.

“She foretold your arrival. Said the future of Rome would be written by rain and storm, when blood spills on the ancient serpent stone.”

Serpent. Synonymous with the Traitor. Two faced and shedding skin. Blood spilling, the death of your Brother. Rain on the rocks- this storm hammering down. You can’t believe it.

“What if Rome is your destiny?” She explains. Her voice kind and brave as the candles flicker and the storm rages on.

“Then I pray the goddess’ convey me the strength to survive it.”

“I will pray too.” She takes your hand. It feels like kinship.

They stepped you out of the tub and began to pat you dry with cloths and then dress you.

With each pass of their hands wiping the water from your skin, it removed you further and further from yourself.

Aeliana rubs a sweet balm like texture onto your pebbled nipples before she robes you. Said it was to increase your fertility. She also lines your eyes with burnt kohl.

They pulled your dress on around you. Let it fall into beautiful waves. You stood sedately and let them manoeuvre you.

Your skin positively draped with as much fragrant oil as it could take. Anointed with your new life as it drips off you in unbearable sweetness. Decorations not of your choosing put into your hair, on your ears, around your neck, on your arms. Strangled by someone else’s finery.

Slid fine golden sandals onto your feet. Aeliana brought a flame red veil and pinned it in place over your head. It floated down to your shoulders. Securing a crown of myrtle flowers over it.

It may have been gauzy fabric; rich and fine. But it felt like iron to you. Iron veil and a crown of thorns.

When they finish readying you, they bow and leave you alone to eat the fresh bread and fruits. Drink the sweet wine. Night closes in around you.

You didn’t ever picture the night before your wedding being like this. Alone and noiseless save for rain. You pictured the noise and gaiety of your sisters, dancing in their fine dresses. How they’d carry golden stalks of wheat to signify your prosperous marriage - how it would bear fruit. Be blessed by gods and fortune.

Your mother would bind your hands to the man you’d marry. To the man you’d love.

And you are here. Miserable in cold indifference. Clothed in perfumed oil and silence. With only your dour thoughts for company.

You pick at your offering of food. Feeling the milky eyes of those female deity marble statues watching you carefully. Judging. Maybe even disappointed.

When the doors next shudder open as the guards outside push them open, a divine older woman comes striding slowly, surely, into the room. Confidence woven into her steps like the very fine lavender purple cloth folded around her shoulders. A beautiful sage green palla. Her hair is dark and braided masterfully on her head. Shot through with bolts of silver.

You recognise her from coins. From statues. The Dowager Empress of Rome. Julia Domna.

She looks wise as Minerva. Goddess of education indeed. All of Rome had heard tale of not only her beauty, but her mind. Sharp as an arrowhead. A gentle mediator between her rabid sons.

Out of sheer politesse and nerves, you bolt out your seat and bow your head to her. Words shrivel on your tongue. Royalty is stood before you. Here you are plucked from the dungeons. You feel unworthy.

“Rise, my child.” She bids you. Holding out a hand laid with jewels on nearly every finger. Standing before you. Close enough to discern some of your beauty through the veil.

She examines you. Not unkindly. The way you’d expect a mother to examine the vessel that will carry her sons legacy. She’s discerning.

“Let me see my sons choice then…” she bids. Hands crossed in front of her, diplomatically, as she lets her deep set, serious eyes become acquainted with all of you.

Choice? Or chattel?

She walks around you. Eyes your hair. Your build. Your hips. The way you’ve been presented like a prized sacrificial swine before the crowds on Saturnalia.

And she doesn’t appear to find you lacking

“Goodness. You really are beautiful.” She says. It sounds mournful. Introspective. As if she didn’t intend on you hearing it.

“He’s made a fine choice.” She lauded

“Corsica, I hear you hail from?”

“Yes, Dowager.”

“I want to know one thing.” She says. Voice hard as newly forged steel. A shiver runs your spine. So she could be terrifying if she wishes.

“Are you a traitor against Rome?” She demands. “There are spies who would conspire to align themselves with this great house, under false guises, to murder my sons.” She speaks, crossly. Eyes aflame.

She has bite after all. Lions teeth and knows full well how to use them.

“I am no spy. I am not a murderer I have no guise. Like you. I only want to protect those whom I love.” You answer calmly. Placid easy waves. Gently now.

She smiles. Though something curious still lurks in her eyes.

“Then we are on the same page.” She awards slyly. You feel as if you’ve passed a test.

Her smile crooks on one side. Relieved.

She turns to the doors. The great sway of her earrings are big as chandeliers as she moves. Stunning gold. Bands of gold also cross her well formed upper arms. Every inch a woman of gentility and riches. She is perfumed with lavender. Oil made from dried plants fetched all the way from purple fields in Aquitania.

“My son grows impatient to see his bride. Come. Salacia. It is time.” She offers her arm to you.

Apparently your destiny lays in wait.

~

The wedding was a short and simple affair. The Dowager Empress led you to the grand rooms where they were to be held.

Grand, just like the rest of this humongous sprawling palace.

When you see Geta, he is clad in so much gold and armour. A blinding white cloak draped off his form. Armour golden. Carved with gods and victorious hero’s of battle. Golden laurel crown adorns his head. His smile at the sight of you makes you blush with attention.

You are suddenly grateful for the veil. It manages to hide you from every stranger in this room. You can make out Caracalla. Some other senators. Other guests you’ve no idea who.

The celebrant, a rather portly priest, ordered the evil spirits away. Asked for the fire spirits to bless you. He invoked Janus to watch over you from single people to a joined couple. New beginnings.

When it is time, he takes your hand and carefully threads an engagement ring on your finger. It is weighty, pure gold. An imitation of two dog heads joined together. A round sapphire cradled between their mouths. As if they’re fighting for it.

Remus and Romulus. It reminds you of him already.

You dare to meet his eyes as he does it. He looks ravenous. Umbra catching you where you stand. Swallows you whole. You don’t think you can get used to it yet.

“Wherever you go, there also go I, as your wife.” You speak.

The dowager Empress binds your hands together with blood red linen as the rest of the vows are read. The way his fingers turn and grip the inside of your forearm - firm pressing, hot like a brand - it makes you shiver.

Then comes the time for the marriage to be sealed with a kiss. Hands freed.

Your stomach is squirming unpleasantly as your stranger of a groom steps forwards to lift your veil. When he lifts the red gauze from your vision, you keep your eyes lowered until the last moment.

You feel the urging of his eyes. You could hear the fierce nature of his words as if he’d spoken.

Look at me. Salacia.

He looks entirely too boastful. His perfect little nymph. Caught and landed at last.

Hepulled you in by your waist. Locked his hand around your back. Gave you a kiss that was certainly gentler than before. Softness of his lips was maddening when the rest of him was all armour and metal. But you still felt the edge of his teeth on your lower lip. Bursting new pain from where it had split.

It was official. You had been dragged out a golden net cast in the sea. And now property of the Emperor of Rome.

You had no time to let your thoughts wander. There’s been quite the celebration planned for after. He walks beside you as congratulations ripple around you from nobles, senators, generals and high officials of the courts.

You ignore the way Caracalla sneers a particularly vile look your way when you pass him. Plotting.

You are lead to an opulent triclinium. Open to one huge side, guarded by pillars, which overlooked a garden where fountains trickled and plants bloom even in the storm that’s still brewing. Spitting rain on the landscape.

There are torches at the sides of the rooms, huge bowls boasting orange flames that lick at the walls, and freshly plucked flowers, still green branches and fronds sit in urns to the side. Filling the room with petals and heady nectar scent.

There’s a huge swarm of lectus’ in the centre of the room. Bronze laid with cushions. All pointing towards a huge table were bread and wine goblets awaited. You’re not used to how the room echoes. Unused to the sheer amount of people and formality that fills it.

The wine is poured freely by silent servants who sweep in and out. Some of them carrying plates as huge as carriage wheels. A whole roasted boar with grapes spilling out its mouth is brought in. Trays upon trays of cooked moray eels, cod and oiled anchovies. A whole platter of stewed nightingale birds, arranged around stalks of herbs and plums.

There’s fruit and bread the like of which you’ve not seen before. White bowls filled with cut purple figs and waxy oranges. Apples and yellow golden pears on tiered stands. Grapes and dried apricots heaped in dishes. It’s dazzling. So much wealth thrust before you.

You have a cup of sweet honey wine and take some of the unleavened bread. Watching as others around you gorge and toast with their goblets. Drinking strong wine and telling jokes and bawdy stories.

You feel disjointed from it all. You feel the Emperors eyes pass over you. The dowagers too. You are a source of mystery and intrigue.

Plucked from misfortune and placed here at the feet of gods.

You do feel when your new husband slides some pieces of fruit, or fresh breads onto your plate. A small bunch of sweet red grapes. His head may be cocked to conversation in this room. But his attention remains somewhat on you.

“Eat. Wife. I do not wish to force you.” He commands you. Prodding food and more wine in your direction.

Nursing his own cup and barking at the servants when he wanted more. You know his tongue must be stained with the taste by now. Sour purple. You wonder if you’ll taste it later in another of his animalistic kisses.

It feels like there is a boulder in your stomach. You swallow. You sip. You try to breathe. It all feels too restricted.

“Refill my wife’s cup.” Geta demands of the nearest servant. You flinch at his cutting commands.

You meet the servants eyes for a second and flicker them a smile. They look to the ground as they fill your cup. Their poor hands shake. You thank them. They don’t respond.

You’ve a feeling his plying you with wine has more than one ulterior motive. To make you loosen. Make you pliant. Make you slip down easier in his crushing grip.

“I have no appetite.” You admit weakly.

You can’t stomach the way the fat on the meat before you glistens. These poor stewed birds with clipped wings. The gutted boar. Glistening fat and dead meat. Same as the way of those poor flayed men in the coliseum.

Butchered animals. One and the same. The way blood sprayed out on the biscuit brown dirt under the sun. The way viscera glistened bright when spilled free from once living flesh. How these animals looked served on a platter. There’s no difference.

You take some grapes. Pick them from the vine. Bite into some apricots. The fruit rots on your palate. Fine sugary flesh and it bursts on your tongue like ripe putrefaction. You place it gently back on your plate.

“Do they not have fruit in Corsica?” He asks. It’s vaguely mocking.

“We had lemon trees in the gardens. An olive tree in the courtyard. Over 200 years old.” You state quietly. Not taking your eyes off the plate in front of you. You picked and prodded at it.

“You have more now. You are Empress. You have anything you want.” He impressed on you.

“I miss the ocean. The sun on the shoreline. My sisters.” You mutter.

“Don’t risk sounding ungrateful.” He threatens.

Geta followed the path of your reluctant hand with his eyes. He then scans across all of his guests. People of the senate. Rich merchants. Fellow royalty.

They come to snipe and drink wine and watch this new wedded spectacle.

“They are all dull.” Geta decided.

You wonder if the only source of amusement he could delight at was seeing people being beaten to black and blue paste in the coliseum. To have to see the spray of blood to feel something.

“They are intrigued. Their Emperor has placed a traitor in his marriage bed.” You comment.

Geta turned to you. “That sounds like treason to my ears.” A warning.

“Perhaps.” You answered. Boldly.

“But is it inaccurate? It is what they are all thinking.” You add. “You’ve wedded yourself to someone disloyal. Someone who is not their kind. They are curious.”

Geta scans his eyes over everyone again. Their laughter. The flow of wine. The way they stab and cut into food and fruit like they’re half starved. None of them quite meet your eyes.

Perhaps they don’t wish too.

His hand finds the meat of your thigh. Flesh firm and warm.

“They will believe what I tell them too. Wife. You only need worry about your loyal duty to me. Nothing else.” He makes clear.

You go back to pushing bits of fruit around your plate. Taking no more sustenance.

“No doubt you are unused to such finery.” Caracalla pipes up. Seeing you toy with your food. “I wonder what they eat in Corsica. Peasants sea food?”

You meet Caracalla’s eyes across the tables and mountains of rich food.

Getas eyes were dark. Fired by lust for you. That’s what you saw in them when he looked at you.

The same could not be said for Caracalla.

You saw nothing. Just darkness and his love of cruelty. Geta unnerved you. But it was Caracalla who scared you most. It was like gazing into a tomb. A bare skull eye socket. You’re certain nothing but darkness refracted back. Splintered twisted darkness. The purest distilled form of malice.

“Perhaps you are jealous, brother. The fact that I will have heirs meant for the future of the empire. And you will… not.” He snaps. Petulant.

“If she makes it that far.” Caracalla sneers. Daggering a smile right at you. A sneer that make you feel cold. He’s twirling a dagger in his other hand. Eyeing you with sick lustful interest.

He wants your goodness too. He wants it so he can spoil you for himself and ruin Getas legitimacy. By whatever means necessary. Geta has cruelly inserted you into this feud.

“And who’s to say the heir will be yours… who knows where her eyes will stray.” He jabs. Eyes widening as he leers.

Geta stabs into his food. Glaring at his smaller twin all the while. Eyes dark as shadow cloaked black jewels.

When some servants near you move from pouring wine, the sight of the persons impeded by them, slowed your world to a halt, ringing gongs in your ears when you caught sight of someone you recognized.

Macrinus.

The food in your mouth turns to ash which you can hardly stomach swallowing. Your gaze locked on the man as he lays content at your wedding feast. Drinking wine and roaring laughter with Caracalla. Garbed in robes of rich Aquarian blue trimmed with gold pattern.

Exactly the gracious easy way he had been when he dined with you and your father in his home.

His smile remains as he locks eyes with you. And raises his glass in a toast in your direction. You hear him drink to your new name with a blazing smirk aimed your way. “Empress.”

You mumble a pithy excuse. You don’t know if anyone hears you or if they’ll even look up from their plates when you get up and rush to leave.

Caracalla snorts as you race from the room on the verge of tears.

“She’s a flighty one. Your Empress. So full of tears.” Caracalla comments loudly. Cruelly. Turning his head to meet the acid stare of his brother - and the Dowager Empress as she lowers her goblet from her lips. Eyes cool as metal.

“Maybe if you shoved your cock into your broodmare, brother, as you doubtless plan to do this night. Maybe that would settle her down? Or maybe a good beating from the guards will see her right, make her see her place… maybe let a few of the guards bend her over a lectus and see to her first? Loosen her up a little for your uses.”

“Caracalla. Enough.” The dowager snaps. Lightning power in her voice. Tone fashioned from a fury storms could envy. Her dark eyes glow with it.

She turns to Geta and lays a gentle pacifying hand to his arm. “See to your bride, dear. She looked unwell.”

Geta sighs a snarl. Glaring at his brother as he does as mother suggested.

She watches him leave. Turns to her other son with barely concealed ire.

Caracalla snorts into his wine with the other guests. Making sneering, high handed remarks.

“Such marital bliss.” He mocks to the guests. Twirling his favourite silver dagger in his other hand. Laughing as he played with the dead meats on his plate with a sneer. His tooth winked golden in the light.

~

Tagging in the hopes this finds its way to the right people- thank you--

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[missadangel]

The Heart of Rome (Marcus Acacius x Princess Reader)

All Chapters List

IV. The Desire (+18, Smut, MDNI)

"Ubi amor ibi fides."

Where there is love, there is faith.

“Tell me who you are,” Acacius waited for the answer to come from between your lips, his eyes lingering on the curve of them.

You knew it was time. There was no point in dragging it out any longer. 

“Marcus, I-”

He was taken aback at first, but he liked it when you called him by his first name. He kept questioning you, though, still waiting for an answer.

The door of the room was suddenly knocked on from outside. It was his squire. Acacius turned his head angrily.

"Don't disturb me!" he commanded.

"Sir, it's urgent matter!"

Acacius looked into your eyes for the last time, then withdrew his hands and turned towards the door.

"Come in!”

Acacius' squire Cato came in, looking very worried. 

"Sir, you've been summoned from Collis Palatium (Palatine Hill). It's an emergency." He was out of breath.

"Take it easy and let me know what's going on, Cato."

"They said, Emperor Geta has been poisoned, sir. The Empress wants to see you."

You covered your mouth in shock. After all, he was your half-brother. Acacius looked at you and then back at Cato. "Why is she calling me? I'm not a medicus."

"I'm not sure, sir, but I was told she wanted to speak to you. The guard with the horse said so. He's waiting for you outside to accompany you sir.”

Acacius nodded and let out a deep sigh. 

“Take me with you," you said suddenly.

He turned to you. "No, it might be too late by now."

"I can help him," you said loudly.

"Maybe you can't. I won't throw you into this recklessly,” he hissed.

"Are you going to let him die? It would be disastrous for Rome if he dies. He may not be the best ruler, but he's on the throne and an emperor in the end. I know he rules better than Caracalla. You know that too. You can't just leave Rome's fate in his hands."

Acacius put his hands on his waist, thinking, uncertain, but knowing you were right.

“I didn't know you were so interested in politics,” he teased, crossing his arms.

“I'm just observing things,” you shrugged. “Please let me come,” you said pleadingly.

His brow furrowed, and he raised his index finger as if in warning.

"You will stay in your cloak in the carriage and you will not show your face to anyone until I say so. If I need you, you will come when I tell you. Is that clear?"

You nodded. “Yes, sir.”

The upper class Roman citizens settled on the Palatine Hill and built magnificent palaces. Emperors lived here in palaces called Domus. Caracalla and Geta did not get on well, but they both stayed in the same palace, The Domus Severiana. This imposing structure was located southeast of Capitoline Hill and the Colosseum.

The carriage arrived at the Palatine Hill in the twilight. You and the General barely spoke the whole way, both of you feeling tense in different ways. He was nervous because he had brought you with him, and you were worried that you would not be able to help Geta in time. You needed to know what kind of poisoning it was. You were almost an expert, but you weren't sure how well you could do without Vicius, your uncle. If you do something wrong and he dies, you could be in trouble. The General was aware of this, and it was worrying him.

Domus Severiana had no entrance from the street because it did not face the street. Security issues were undoubtedly the reason. In fact, all you could see were high walls, and not a single window facing the street. As the carriage stops, Acacius looked at you directly. "Put on your cloak and wait until Octavius arrives."

You nodded and did as he said, pulling your cloak over your head. 

"I'll check on the situation, and if there's nothing left to do by the time I leave, you must return to the villa. Do you understand?"

"Understood."

Acacius looked at you one last time before turning towards the giant door of the courtyard, concern on his face. "I hope," you murmured as you looked behind him. "I hope you don't die, brother. And I hope I can help you."

A moment later, you heard the sound of a horse's hooves hitting the ground as it ran and you turned your head in that direction.  Octavius pulled the reins of his horse and stopped it right next to the chariot. He leapt down and regarded the scene with a keen eye.

"My Lady," he greeted, "I wonder if there might be any news?"

You shook your head. "The General is inside," you replied.

He nodded, "I'll see if he needs me," and went inside.

It was dark now, and you were eager to get moving. You were ready to get out of the cart and rush inside, but when you saw Octavius coming out of the courtyard, you decided to wait it out.

"The general said you should leave," he said quietly. From the look on his face, you could tell he didn't agree with him.

"Is it too late for him?” You swallowed hard.

“He said he doesn't look well. I think it's his last moments.”

You frowned at him. "I can save him, just like I saved the general. You know that, don't you?"

He gave you a look that seemed to say he was in agreement. But he was just following orders from his General. “Acacius ordered me to accompany you to the villa.”

You closed your eyes, took a deep breath, stood up, and jumped out of the carriage. Octavius stopped you by extending his big arm out in front of you.

"The General's orders are clear, my lady."

 "I cannot let him die like this. If this gets out of Rome, Our enemies will undoubtedly spread the rumour that the Roman Emperor died of a simple poison and did not even have a skilled medicus to cure him. This would be an attack that could potentially weaken the Empire, and we can not allow that to happen.”

Octavius was too stunned by your words. 

‘My lady, you speak more wisely than the emperors, you are full of surprises indeed.’ He smiled.

First of all, as a medicus who saves lives, it never felt right to do nothing and let him die. You were determined to do it, even if he was not your brother, even if he was not the emperor. As a patient who needs help.

“I'll answer to the General,” you said to reassure Octavius. “But, sir, we don't have much time.” 

Octavius nodded, then inhaled deeply. “Even if you answer him, he'll punch me in the face for sure.”

You walked with him to the gate of the courtyard, he gestured to the guards waiting at the gate, one of the guards knocked the gate with fist without turning his body, squinting at you, and the large gold-embroidered gate swung open.  

The main courtyard was enormous. As you entered, you were greeted by a rectangular fountain with a motif of four peltas (shields used by the famous female Amazon warriors). The walls were decorated with frescoes, the courtyards and colonnaded porticoes were covered with elegant marble, and statues adorned the fountain and porticoes. Some of those statues were of family members. The biggest and most central one was of Septimius Severus himself, your father.

As you passed the statue, you took a quick look around, not knowing who it was, and made your way to the second courtyard. A large fountain and the same columns stood in this courtyard, but the marble was a different color. It was a truly beautiful sight. As soon as you crossed from this courtyard to the back courtyard, Acacius, who was talking to Julia Domna, noticed you and scowled. Julia Domna was looking sad, too. On the upper balcony, probably in the part of the emperor's chambers, you saw a lot of movement. Slaves were in a rush.

The Empress was clearly surprised, "That girl."

Acacius glanced at Octavius and his face clearly showed his growing tension. 

"If I can help, Your Highness," you said, bowing your head.

"How can you help? General, what does that mean?" she looked at him with a frown.

You answered before he could, the whole thing was so unnecessary, especially when time was so limited.

"I know I'm a woman and I know it sounds ridiculous, but I'm an experienced medicus. I'm here to save our emperor. Please allow me, highness.”

“Is that true, General?” She asked, her eyes on you.

Acacius squinted at you and then looked at at her and nodded. “She is the one who saved me highness, so, yes it is true.”

“But Medici has already said there is nothing more that can be done,” she said in a tearful voice.

"My Lady, we're wasting time here. Please take me to him and see what I can do to help.”

Julia nodded, looking very desperate.

“Well, he needs all the help he can get, you must be skilled to heal the General, but I trust him not you, not yet, don’t forget that.”

You noticed the General clench his jaw.

"Come with me now,” Julia gesturing with her hand.

While you were all going up the stairs, following her behind, Caracalla, who was leaning on the balustrade in front of Geta's room on the second floor, watching everything meanwhile.

“Lover, Slave, Medicus, so many things hiding under that beautiful face of yours,’ he said sarcastically. You nodded at him but didn’t like the smile on his face. There was no hint of sadness in his eyes. He seemed far from sad.

Julia stared at him with determination. "We'll do what we can, won't we? For your brother.”

“All the medici have already done enough, mother,” he said, rolling his eyes. “Or don't you trust my own medicus?”

You wanted to slap him in the face as he was standing in the doorway stalling you. How could he talk so carelessly when every second was precious? He might not love his brother much, but his behaviour was leading you to suspect him and you hated it.

Julia gently touch his shoulder. “I trust him as much as I trust you, my handsome boy. You trust me, don't you?”

Whatever Caracalla sensed in her voice, he didn't like it, and his eyes sharpened. But he quickly recovered his expression and smiled. “Hurry, then,” he said, pointing with both arms to the door leading to Geta's room.

Julia looked at you, "Just you." You saw the General before entering the Geta’s room. He was visibly nervous.

You were certain he'd give you a scolding when you got back to the villa.

When Julia led you through the door, you saw the golden dressing screen first. Opposite, was a large table with kinds of fruits and flowers on it and two chairs. Just beyond, in the opposite corner of the large window, where the golden curtains hung, was a large bed, covered with a red veil so thin that you could see the emperor lying on his bed. 

An old man, who was undoubtedly the medicus Caracalla mentioned just ago, looked at you with curiosity.

“Your Highness,” he nodded, his eyes were on you.

“She will check our emperor,” she said firmly.

“But this is a girl and-“  

“I said, I want her to check my son’s condition.” Her voice was sharp.

“Yes, highness.” The man bowed his head and stepped aside, squinting at you, Julia crossed her arms and gestured at you. You turned your head to Geta, lying motionless on his bed, a thick satin sheet draped over him. He was wearing a red tunic with gold embroidery, he seemed delirious, his golden blond hair stuck to his forehead with sweat, his skin was almost white, you quickly lifted the bedclothes, took his arm in your hands and examined it. It was swollen, red, his neck had the same symptoms, it was definitely plant poisoning.

“Hemlock?” You murmured.

The man opened his eyes wide. “But how-“

Julia was surprised too. “Yes, they said that. Now that you've realised that quickly, you can make an antidote, can't you?”

You put your hand on Geta's forehead and checked his body temperature. It was burning. "We need to lift the covers now," you said, and grabbed the covers with your hands, lifting them completely off him and pushing them to the other side of the bed.

“I asked you if you could make an antidote!”

You ignored her question and asked, "How long has he been like this? Has there been any vomiting? Was it something he ate or drank?"

She froze for a second, thinking quickly. "It was after dinner. He threw up a lot, yes, and then he fainted. He was delirious."

"That's good. The vomiting," you said, checking his neck and lips with your fingers. You parted Geta's lips, still and pale. There was a little bit of food in his mouth, on the edge of his tongue, and you put it in a clean cloth and put it aside. They didn't even make him drink some water? “He needs to drink water and-“

“But highness, he shouldn't be uncovered like this, he will get cold, we need to keep his body warm,” the other medicus interrupted you angrily. Julia frowned.

You rolled your eyes and stood up. “Sir, you obviously have knowledge, but I don't think you've ever dealt with hemlock poisoning before. His body is fighting with poison right now, so we need to lower his body temperature. In fact, we need to get as much fresh air in here as possible. Please be sure open all the windows and I need clean water and cloths.”

“You heard her!” Julia shouted at the emperor's slaves. Then she turned to the other medicus. 

“Is it true? That you've never encountered hemlock poisoning before and you've never treated it and you didn't tell me?” Her voice was so sharp and loud that he trembled with fear.

“You've been living in this palace as a medicus for years, maybe even longer than this girls age. But you can't do anything against this poison. Even this girl knows more than you. And you have the nerve to tell me that my son doesn't have much time left?”

“Your Majesty! I did not want to upset you-”

“Get out!” She barked.

Then she turned to you. “Antidote?”

“No, there is no antidote for hemlock,” you shook your head. “But I can get the poison out of his body in the most undamaged way possible.”

Julia was confused. “So you mean I can hope that, my son won't die?”

You smiled at her. “No, at least not tonight, highness. I ask you to trust me.”

She nodded, “Do whatever it takes to heal him,” her eyes filled with tears.

When the water and cloth you asked for arrived soon, you put them on the bedside table, dipped the cloth into it, squeezed it a little, put the cloths on his forehead and neck, and took your medical bottles out of your bag.

“What are you doing?” Julia asked curiously. 

“I'll have to make an herbal mixture to-.”

“Didn't a plant already poisoned him?”

“Yes, but to reduce and neutralize this poison… Can I use the kitchen? I'll need to examine the food he ate for dinner and the drink he drank.”

“All right, come with me.”

You left him alone on the bed and went out with Julia while the slaves opening all the windows one by one, as you'd asked. The General and Octavius were waiting just outside the door. Caracalla was the first to notice you. 

He approached you two, looking you over, and then turned to his mother. “Mother?"

"He'll be fine. Let's pray for him," she said, putting his arm around his son. Then she called to one of the slaves, "Take her to the kitchen," pointing at you. Acacius was looking at you, but Julia stepped between you. "General Acacius, I need you to do something for me. Come with me," she commanded. 

Reluctantly he had to go with her and he must be hated it.

You called Octavius over as you and the General were walking in different directions. The slaves went ahead and showed you the way to the kitchen.

"Sir, I need your help with something.”

“Of course, what is it?”

"I was going to ask you to help me in the kitchen. We need to be quick."

Octavius nodded. He trusts you.

"Do you know where the empress and the general have gone?"

"She trusts the General, so she is having him question those who cooked and served the emperor's food. But what I don't understand. Everyone must have eaten the same food, right? Why is only Emperor Geta poisoned?”

“Thats why we're here, to find out.”

There was no one in the kitchen because they had gathered all the cooks and other slaves in the other courtyard like he said. 

You asked one of the slaves to help you get the bowl Geta had eaten from and the others. He went to the dining hall and brought the bowls that the other medicus had examined. You took a piece from Geta's bowl and put it on another plate. 

You took a quick sniff, without bringing your nose too close. You knew that the smell of hemlock was very pungent, but this didn't smell like it. That was a bit unexpected. You put the remains from the corner of Geta's mouth on the other side of the plate and compared them. It was clear that he had eaten from this bowl. You quickly looked at the remains of the food in the bowls and cauldrons where the others had eaten. They were all the same and there was no sign of poison in any of them. 

"It wasn't what he ate," you murmured. "It's what he drank," your eyes locked onto the wine cups. 

Octavius and the other slaves looked at each other, watching you curious to see what you'd do next. You looked at the slaves as you compared the cups. "Can someone tell me which is the emperor's drinking cup? Has a new wine jar been opened recently?"

They exchanged glances and murmured.

"Does she mean the one that that slave just opened today?"

"Maybe."

“Explain please?" you asked.

“One of the slaves spilled the wine during the drinks service, the emperors got pretty mad and told him to bring a new one. He ran to the kitchen and came back with a new decanter.

"And he poured it into Emperor Geta's cup first, didn't he?" you asked. Everything seemed to be cleared up, although you still didn't know what exactly had poisoned him.

"Show us that decanter now!" Octavius barked.

The slave girl nodded and ran into the dining hall to do as he said. A moment later she came running back with the decanter, but you got angry when she spilled some on the floor.

"Be careful! It must be poisoned!”

You quickly poured the wine into a cup and took a sample. The smell was a bit unusual, but you were relieved when your nose recognized it, you encountered before, back Egypt.

"Amanita muscaria," you said quietly. "He mixed it in with his wine."

"What's that?" 

You glanced up at Octavius. "It's a poisonous mushroom, made into an herbal extract and mixed into his wine. It's not an easy process, and not everyone can do it.”

You remembered the medicus from earlier. But you had better things to do right now than to blame him. The next step is to remove the poison from Geta's body. To do that, you had to make a natural antibiotic. You got the ingredients out of your bag and started making it right away, but then you had a sudden realization: everyone who cooks and serves food is about to die.

“Sir, please inform the General, I don't think it's the other slaves or cooks’ fault.”

Octavius nodded and turned on his heel and rushed out. You were praying as you making the herbal concoction with the help of the slaves standing beside you. While not as potent as hemlock, mushroom poison was still quite deadly, especially when combined with alcohol. But fortunately, unlike it, it is possible to make an antidote.

After what felt like an eternity, you finally finished the concoction and headed for the courtyard to go upstairs in rush. The other slaves ran behind you, stumbling as they tried to keep up with you on the stairs. You went into the room, put the bowl on Geta's bedside, and leaned over to check on him. You had so much you wanted to say, so much that hurt, but as a medicus, you were used to focusing on doing your job properly.

All you could think about was getting him better as soon as possible. You gave him the herbal concoction to drink with his slaves help. His breathing was weak, but you made him drink it all. You bowed your head when Caracalla came into the room. He was angry.

"Did you ask them to interrogate my slave?"

That slave who served Geta belonged to him, no surprise.

"He was poisoned by what he drank, not what he ate, and that makes him the prime suspect."

"Are you accusing me, you whore? Who do you think you are?”

He barked quite loudly, and at that moment, as you looked into his eyes, which were glowing with anger, you knew for sure that he was responsible for this. You forced yourself to remain calm.

"Never, Your highness. I would never accuse you of something your slave did."

He came closer to you, his eyes filled with menace. "Once my brother's long gone, all your show of healing will be in vain, and you'll be the one who answer for it, I’ll make sure of that."

You want to blame everyone but yourself, you cunt, you thought as you looked into his eyes.

You were both startled by a sudden deep cough. When you turned to look at him, Geta was propped up on his elbow on the bed, staring at you. 

"Who dares to make so much noise at my bedside?"

"Highness!" You couldn't believe your eyes to see him awake.

Geta raised his eyebrows, squinting. "You? Am I dreaming? Must be seductive one,” he smirked.

“Brother!” Caracalla rushed to his side and leaned over the edge of the bed. He was certainly a very good actor, you had to hand it to him.

“What happened to me? What is she doing here?” Geta was looking at you with his pale but alive face. Seeing him like that a proud smile spread across your face.

“Don't you remember?” Caracalla asked curiously.

“I remember I threw up like damn fountain, after drinking the disgusting wine, and then it was a bit dark,” he murmured, pursing his lips.

“My son!”

Julia burst into the room. The slaves must have informed her immediately. With a gentle touch, she led Caracalla to sit on the edge of the bed and hugged Geta. Caracalla stood up and crossed his arms. 

As you looked at them from where you stood, you felt envious that his mother was alive so she could worry for him, hug him, kiss him. You never had that chance and never will. 

“You are indeed a good medicus, what will you become next, I wonder.” The implication in Caracalla's voice sent shivers down your spine, you could almost imagine what he would do when he found out the truth about you.

Julia stood up and came to you, and for the first time you saw sincerity in her eyes.

“You gave me back my son's life, how should I reward you?”

“I have only fulfilled my duty, Your Majesty.”

“How decent.” Caracalla muttered.

“My head is still spinning,” Geta gasped, lying back on the bed.

“You should get some more rest your highness, and keep drinking the concoction through the night,” you said as you looked at him.

Geta sniffed the concoction and a disgusted expression settled on his face. “This is the most disgusting shit I've ever smelled. What’s in it?”

Just as you were about to say, he silenced you by raising his hand. “Don't you dare tell me, I don't want to know.” Then covered his face with his arm and pointed at you with his other hand. “I am indebted to you. Provide her with whatever she desires, mother.”

"That is very kind of you, but my sole desire is to see you recover," you said sincerely.

Caracalla laughed out loud which made you startled, Julia rolled her eyes, Geta laughed too.

What was so funny?

Geta turned his head to you as he was lying on the bed. “I get better why the General is so fond of you.”

When you heard his name, you looked at the door, but he wasn't there. 

"Let's give highness some space to rest," Julia said, gesturing to the door.

Caracalla pursed his lips, and you could tell from the look in his eyes that he wasn't happy at all. Julia took your arm, you were a little startled but you stayed still. "Are you sure you don't want anything? Everything has a price, and everyone has something they want in return."

You looked at her face as you walked down the hall together. "I just want good days for Rome, Your Highness. That's all I want.”

“It will be so, since you saved our emperor,” she smiled. 

You were beginning to warm to her, but something inside you kept telling you were putting yourself in danger. 

“I see you live with him as the General's medicus. Is it true you saved him in Egypt?”

You swallowed, but you had to tell the truth.

“Yes.”

“You lived there? He brought you here?”

You nodded.

“Do you have a name?”

“Highness!”

Macrinus came running down the hallway towards you. His eyes met yours, and you knew instantly that he carried a warning message. 

"I'm truly sorry for what happened. I came as soon as I heard. Could you please let me know how our emperor is doing now?”

"He's better now, thanks to this girl. It seems your and Caracalla's medicus wasn't as good as this girl."

Macrinus' expression made it clear he was not pleased. 

“Thankfully, he's alive. We should probably offer a sacrifice to the Gods.”

"I'll do that first thing tomorrow, but I'm not sure you're being completely sincere. You haven't called off the council meeting tomorrow, have you?"

"I would if it wasn't so important, but I thought Emperor Caracalla would lead it. He agreed."

From the way he looked at you, you knew immediately that the meeting was about you.

"If I could speak to His Majesty-"

"No, he will rest. Caracalla is also very tired, maybe you should come tomorrow. It has been a very hard night.”

"Have the perpetrators been punished? Who is responsible?" Macrinus was very curious, which made you also suspect him.

“The General is dealing with that,” she said with cruel smile.

You felt a pang of guilt for having forgotten him amidst the chaos.

"Your Highness, if I may, I would like to ensure that the General and I have completed our duties here.”

"I perceive that you are fatigued; they shall accompany you. You may leave.”

“Thank you.”

You nodded to them and hastened to the general, disregarding Macrinus' disapproving gaze. 

As you walked briskly towards the main courtyard, you thought it would be a good idea to get out of there with the general as soon as possible. You assumed he was upset that you hadn't listened to him. When you passed the tall pink marble column with gold inlay on the sides and came out into the main courtyard, you saw Octavius first. He was standing opposite the general and looking down at something. Then you saw the general himself, with his back to you. To see what he was looking at, you had to get past the stunted trees. Then, as you got closer, you noticed the strong smell of iron and then saw the sword in the general's hand. You were taken aback to realize that the smell was of blood dripping from his sword onto the ground. 

Then you saw people in slave clothes lying on the ground, including Caracalla's medicus. You were petrified. Julia and Caracalla must have had the General do their dirty work. When Octavius looked up at you, the General turned around and his eyes met yours. There was blood on his sandals, his leather armor, and his neck. His face was expressionless. When you saw him like that, you felt fear and horror. But when his expression changed and he looked sad, you threw all your fears aside and approached him. He pulled back and turned his head away. He wiped his sword on a rag Octavius handed him and sheathed it. 

"You saved him," he said, wiping the blood away from his leather armor.

"Yes, the empress said we could head out now,” your voice broke.

It wasn't just that they killed these people without a trial. They even had the General do this dirty job, and it made you angry. You forced yourself to ignore the people who were lying on the ground, lifeless.

You didn't like the way he avoided looking at you though, so you went over and took his hand, pulling him closer. "We're done here, General. Shall we go?" You touched his face with your hand and turned him towards you. His brown eyes shone like gems in the light of torches on the courtyard walls.

"Wait for me in the carriage. I'm not done yet,” he said coldly.

"I'll take care of it, sir," Octavius said, clearly worried about his friend. "Please go to your villa and rest." 

"You heard him. I want to go. I'm exhausted," you said, tugging on his arm, but he was like a statue and wouldn't budge.

Acacius turned his head to him.

Was he ignoring you?

“Thank you, my friend.”

But he must not have liked you tugging on his arm, so he grabbed your arm instead, you liked the way he touched you with a protective instinct. As you strode out of the courtyard, your gaze fixed on the general's face, you felt a sharp, piercing pain in your heart. You were not used to seeing him like this. You would have done anything to see him smile again.

It was after midnight when the carriage arrived at the villa, there was no moonlight tonight, it was quite dark. The General was silent the whole time, he joined you in very short sentences when you told him what you had done to save Geta. It was hard to tell if it was because he was angry with you or because he had to kill those people against his will. He was a man of justice and honor, it must have been hard for him, and you felt very sorry for him. You checked his beautiful face as you entered the courtyard of the Villa, still looks upset, it was getting unbearable. Without thinking, you stepped in front of him and put one arm around his waist and one around his neck and embraced him. You could feel the surface of the leather armor under your skin as you pressed your cheek against his chest. 

“I'm sorry you had to do that.”

"I was on the verge of doing more,” he said in a sharp tone, almost as sharp as his sword.

You gazed up at his face to ascertain what he was talking about. In the gloom of the night, with only the light from the torch on the wall of the courtyard, the color of his eyes appeared to be very dark. “If you couldn't save him, she was ready to kill you. She was so mad and was willing to spill blood. I made my plan right in that moment. I was as ready as she was."

You swallowed hard, wondering if he was talking about a suicide plan.

“To her, you saved yourself by saving his son. That's it. She put Caracalla's medicus life on the line without a second thought. She could have done the same thing to you," he hissed.

You felt guilty when you sensed the tremor in his voice.

“I'm sorry, I disobeyed you.”

“You'd better be,” he muttered.

You took a step back and looked at him. Finally his expression had softened, and you felt a sense of relief.

“But you were going to kill the empress and the emperors just for a slave girl?” Raising your eyebrows curiously.

He smirked. “Wasn't it you who shout in my face that you were not a slave?”

You bit your lip and gave a shy smile. “I did. I’m sorry for that too.”

“And you still didn’t tell me who you are.”

“I will, but, with all due respect you haven't answered my question, General.”

He lowered his head and looked you in the eye. “Not just for a slave, I'd kill them all for you even if I don’t know who you are.”

He couldn't have been more seductive with that sharp tone, your heart began to race. But no matter how tempting it was that he was ready to kill anyone for you, you couldn't get out of your mind what Macrinus had said before. You couldn't bear to make the General look guilty when he knew nothing about it.

“Can I tell you tomorrow? I'm really tired. It's been a long day and night."

“It certainly was. Fair enough. Tomorrow then.”

The next day, you woke up feeling so tired you didn't want to get out of bed. You had a lot of bad dreams about the General. You also thought about Caracalla's attitude, how ready he was to kill you, Julia's cruelty, and what she made the General do. It was all torturing you, and you didn't know how to deal with it. You were sure that even if Geta recovered thanks to you, he wouldn't support the General against Senate. There was nothing but tension between those two. Macrinus was so keen for you to introduce the congress tomorrow that he didn't even care that the emperor almost died. You knew that man's determination well enough. He wasn't going to back down from this, no matter what. He was only interested in power. He wasn't helping you because he cares about you. 

 He was using you as a pawn to achieve his goal. And you were aware of that. It's possible that everything he said about your father was untrue. Who knows what will happen to you when you show up in the council meeting. Or the general. You hated being in the middle of everything and didn't want to put the general in danger, so you felt your heart ache as you forced yourself to admit that the only thing to do was to leave. You wanted to go home, to your old land, where no one could reach you. If you could be invisible like before, maybe everything would be as it should be and the general wouldn't do anything to put himself in danger. It was a dumb idea, though. You weren't the type to run away. The emperors and their mothers had already seen you, and your absence when Macrinus convened the senate would have been an admission that you had run away. They would find you no matter where you went. There was no escape.

No, that's not an option. With so few options on the table, it was down to just one. However, there was something you wanted to do before telling him who you were. Now that you know for sure how you feel about him. As Aya, you wanted to do something as his slave. Yes, you were ready, maybe not physically yet, but you were absolutely sure as mentally.

A moment later the door opened and Norell walked in.

“Aya, are you alright? Master told me to check in on you.”

You sat up to look at her.

“I’m alright, nothing to worry about.”

“It's almost evening and you're still on the bed,” she complained.

Almost evening? Has it really been that long? Norell closed the door and came over.

“Or is it your moon? Do you want me to get you something warm?”

Fortunately, there were still a few days until then.

“No, I'm just a bit tired.”

“Yes, you came late last night, it was you who healed the emperor, but the master warned us to keep our mouths shut.”

“Well, I did what I could, yes. Is he all right?”

“The master? Yes, why?”

"Yesterday was a very tiring day for him and for me."

"He took his bath in the morning and then asked about you while he was eating, but he seemed fine."

Right, the bath.

"Shall we go to the bath today?" you asked her. You needed to take a bath before the night.

"Today? But I'm still bleeding, you know," she said, pursing her lips.

"Oh, right."

"But I don't think the master will mind you using the balneum," she said with a wink. "Is there any particular reason you wanted to take a bath today?" She raised her eyebrows suggestively.

When she saw you blush, a wide smile spread across her face. 

"Ah, so tonight's the night?" She clapped her hands gleefully. 

"Shhh, be quiet."

"No wonder you've been so pensive all morning."

You let out a deep sigh. She was right; you had definitely thought about it too, a lot. 

"But you haven't eaten anything yet. Why not come with me and eat something in the kitchen? Then I'll help you take a bath.”

"I'm fortunate to have you," you said, smiling, hugging her, looking at her reddish-orange hair, which represented ginger, thinking about what would happen after you revealed yourself. You didn't want to lose her friendship.

As you were leaving the room, you were pretty surprised to see the General right outside the door. Was he about to knock?

“I just wanted to check in and see how you were doing.”

Norell bowed her head and walked away to leave you two alone, giggling meanwhile.

You ignored her and eyed him up and down. He was wearing a white tunic with gold leaf embroidery on the hems, a brown belt with embroidery of the same colour and pattern, and a red shawl over it, as if representing Mars himself, which was stunningly attractive. You tried to stay calm, but it was hard.

“I'm alright, well, I guess I'm still tired from yesterday.”

"I see. It must have been quite tiring for you. I didn't get a chance to ask you much yesterday because I was angry with you, but now I understand better how hard it was for you," he said in a soft, velvety tone.

He looked better than yesterday, the anger and sadness in his eyes were gone, and seeing him like this filled you with joy. It was so hard to wait till night.

"But you promised for today," he said, his voice gentle but insistent.

"Yes, if it's not too much to ask, could I come to your room tonight?”

Acacius' brown eyes met yours, first with a hint of surprise, then with a growing sense of excitement. 

"You picked the perfect time to talk," he said with a smirk. You felt your cheeks flush, and at that moment, you felt a strange moisture between your legs. It was a new feeling for you, a combination of lust and desire. It was wonderful, full of life.

"I have to go for a while, but I'll be back tonight."

"May I ask where you're going?"

His smile faded but his expression was soft. “I need to see how the emperor, Geta, is doing. Other members of the senate are going to visit today. Sort of like a visit to see if he's still alive, I suppose.”

"Oh, I see. One more thing, I was wondering if I could use the balneum. Norell said she couldn't come to the baths and I didn't want to go by myself."

"Don't go," he said abruptly. "To the baths. I mean, never. The balneum is yours.”

“Thank you,” you said with a shy smile.

He took your hand and kissed the top of it.

"Enjoy your bath, wait for my return at night," he said almost commandingly, looking under his eyebrows.

He touched your cheek, where it was blushing, and gave you a gentle stroke. Then he walked out of the courtyard. Even though you felt a little abandoned by his leaving, you were pretty excited because you knew he was coming back, so now was the perfect time for a bath. 

Norell accompanied you to the balneum, where you had a long chat. Thanks to her and the hot water, you were almost relaxed, and now you had only one thing on your mind. After getting dressed in your room, you combed your hair and applied rose essence with your finger tips on your neck and hair. It was your favorite, helps you to stay calm, and it smells so nice. 

It was almost night time but the General still hadn't returned, he had been gone a long time and you were getting worried. It was like bedtime for Norell and the other slaves. Cato, the General's squire, was waiting for his arrival in the courtyard. The water flowing from the fountain provided a soothing backdrop to the night, accompanied by the sounds of crickets. While you were playing with the water from the fountain, the black cat you had named Mau suddenly appeared and crossed between your feet, brushing its tail against your skin. She's been away for a while, and you missed her much. 

You picked her up, thinking it would be a good idea to play with her for a while, but she quickly got out of your arms and jumped down. She went to the west side of the courtyard, where the General's chamber was, and meowed at you. It looked like she wanted to show you something. You were curious, so you went over to her. She meowed and ran past the door and into the garden where you first officially met the general. It was hard to keep up with her speed, but you rushed to open the door and enter the garden. She was licking the remains of food on the ground. She probably stole something from the kitchen and brought it here, but she must have still been hungry. Tullia usually shooed her off, so she probably came straight to you. You felt sorry for her, so you went to the kitchen to get her something. 

You opened the door slowly and sneaked in. The kitchen was pretty tidy. You opened one of the food bowls, added some food, and closed the door. She started to meow louder and louder as she caught the scent.

“Sshh, you'll get us both caught,” you whispered.

You went back to the General's garden, afraid that Tullia would find a bowl on the floor in the morning and get angry. Mau ate all the food happily with a purr that made you smile. Once she was done, she licked herself clean with her paw and curled up next to you, ready to fall into a peaceful sleep. Unlike her, you were not so sleepy, you lay down on the grass to watch the stars, twinkle like jewels in the dark sky. It was mesmerizing.

"I hope you don't find yourself falling asleep there again."

You were startled by his voice. When did he arrive? You sat up and looked around. It was hard to see in the dark, so you looked up towards his balcony and noticed him. He was standing with his arms leaning on the balustrade, watching you from above. He had a wonderful smile on his face.

You stood up, quickly brushed your dress and hair with your hands and headed for the stairs. As you took each step, you felt your excitement and nervousness growing. When you got to the last step and were on the same level as him, he took his hands off the balustrade and looked at you.

You smiled when you realized from that distance that he was just as excited as you were. In the darkness of the night, in his white tunic, he shone like the stars in the sky, as if he had just descended to earth through them. As you approached him, he took a few steps towards you, never breaking eye contact. He closed the gap between you slowly, and you saw his dark brown eyes in a way you had never seen them before. They were dark but sparkling, full of desire, an open invitation to you that you couldn't refuse.

You stood there for a while, just speaking with your eyes. At first, you weren't sure how or what to do. You didn't know how to kiss. You'd never kissed anyone before, but you were eager to learn and you really wanted to touch his lips.

You reach up and pull his face closer to yours. You closed your eyes and tried to make your clumsy lips work, hoping that your kiss would be seen as acceptable. You brushed your lips against his and kissed his lower lip. Then you pulled back and looked at his face to see how he reacted. A gentle breeze came from his nose and between his lips, hitting your face.

Was he laughing? You probably looked a bit silly because it was your first kiss. You felt a bit embarrassed.

“My apologies, I've never kissed anyone before,” you murmured.

“Then you'll have to learn,” he said softly. “Allow me to teach you.”

He puts his hand under your chin to make you look up before kissing you. Then pressed his lips against yours with all the passion he has. And Gods! He was a very passionate man. You're so shocked that your first impulse is to reject him. But your slight push on his muscular shoulders doesn’t do anything to stop him. If anything, his kiss gains intensity.

He ventures a hand to your waist pulling you closer. When he started to lightly touch your lips with his tongue you parted your lips and let his tongue touch yours, not hurried but restrained. His tongue tasted like sweet wine, the sweet smell of his skin took your breath away, your blood raced, boiled under his lips. The way his mouth explores yours, the way he keeps rubbing his body against yours, all tells you to surrender to him. Instinctively you raised your arms to wrap them around his thick neck and tangled your fingers in his curly partially gray hair.

He broke the kiss and smirked. You were out of breath and surprised to find yourself in this situation. "You can stop me by saying no," he murmured while rubbing your earlobe with his nose. He pulled his head back gently, his eyes fixed on yours, waiting for your approval. You could see the passion in them.

“I’m afraid that,” he placing his hand on your chin and stroking with his thumb, “if we go any further, I may not be able to stop myself, and you should know, there's no turning back.”

The thought of it almost broke your heart, you wanted him more than anything, you were almost ready to beg him to kiss you again.

"Are you really certain about this?"

You were certain, and you wanted to throw yourself into his arms.

"I am, sir... Marcus." You took his other hand and placed it on your waist as if it belonged there. "I want to be yours.”

His face lit up with a gorgeous, radiant smile. Piercing you with his brown eyes, his huge hands land delicately on your hip and the contact is so intimate that you have to remember how to breathe. His low, deep voice sounds confident. “You have no idea how long I waited for you to say that.”

And before you can even react, he kisses you, but not as gently as before, much more eager, much more passionate. You completely given yourself to him with each deep, passionate kiss. 

His long, thick fingers traced a path from your neck to the hollow of your back, then to the knot of the thin belt you had tied around your waist. You gasped as he quickly undid it, and you found yourself in his arms.

He lifted you so easily in his strong muscular arms, your heart felt like it was going to burst out of your chest when the air hit your face as he carried you to his room. He set you down, near to his bed, you didn't break eye contact as he slowly undresses you, you were sure your cheeks were redder than ever. The dress falls to the floor and gathers around your feet. He pulls your hair aside to expose your neck and collarbone. The atmosphere in the room changes, and you realize your body is shaking. He must have noticed it too because the tenderness in his eyes turns into something else. 

“You have a rare beauty,” he whispers, stroking your collarbone with his fingers, ”Your skin is like a pearl hidden in an oyster shell for me to open.”

When you averted your eyes from him, he cupped your chin in his hand and turned it toward him.  He scooped you up and lays you gently on the bed. The feel of the soft fabric against your skin is pleasant, but nothing compared to the sight of him standing over you and running his eyes up and down your body. At first you squirm shyly under his piercing gaze, his eyes screaming at you: You are so beautiful. I want you. This not only relaxes you, but also makes your body squirm with anticipation. Hot desire.

Your eyes widened when he took off his tunic, you had noticed how gorgeous his body was while he was bathing, but now it was even more impressive. A strong masculine chest, a muscular stomach and a perfect v line. The scars he has add to his rough beauty, perfect.

Marcus unhurriedly puts his knee on the bed and crawls over your body until he's standing over you. You weren't sure if he was trying to gauge your reaction or trying not to startle you with a sudden movement. He brought his face close to yours and began to run his lips along your neck and ear, his fingers caressing your shoulder to your collarbone, and then your arm. 

“Don't be nervous, try to relax,” he whispered in your ear, and when his warm breath hit your face you were getting impatient. He was being too kind and you were grateful for that, but you wanted to be his, you wanted to know what it felt like.

Then he uses his weight to pin you to the bed. The feeling of bare skin against bare skin is incredible. You start rubbing your body against his, savoring the friction. The contact of his body against yours makes you shiver. It feels thrilling. Arousing.

His mouth eagerly finds yours and turns into an all-consuming kiss. Warm, eager lips slide down from your chin to your collarbone and down between your breasts, sucking your sensitive skin in their path. You've always tried to imagine what men's lips would feel like on your skin, but nothing could prepare you for this overwhelming wave of sensations. It feels better than you think. Your back arches and you find yourself wanting more, more of his hand, more of his eager mouth. He stops and stares at you as he hovers over your breasts. You squirm in impatient anticipation. What is he going to do?

He runs his nose and mouth around your breasts, his hot breath caressing your sensitive skin. Marcus blows lightly on one nipple before bringing it to his hot mouth. He sucks gently at first, making you tingle all over. When his mouth presses on your nipple with long, deep, almost wild sucking movements, the sensation is almost unbearable. You moaned, writhing with pleasure beneath him, his mouth slides down to your stomach, torturing its way south until it reaches your ankles. Then he slowly slides up your leg until he's licking your inner thigh. 

He keeps your body arched as his lips repeat the sensual orbit up and down your other leg. He lifts your leg and pulls you down a little to better position it, puts it on his shoulder. You love that he is so strong and uses his strength to move your body. He runs his warm tongue alternately over both your thighs and slowly approaches the top of your thighs. 

He uses his strong hands to spread your legs, leaving your most sensitive area ready and well exposed to his tongue. A sudden flush of embarrassment makes you raise your arm to shield your eyes as he takes a good look at your most intimate parts. Marcus grasps your arm, pulling it back. "Don’t be embarrassed,” he murmurs. “So beautiful.”

He hums into your folds, making pleasure run through your body. His erection sears your skin, making you aware that he’s getting pleasure from driving you crazy with his mouth.

He kisses the area softly; he flips his tongue and sucks you sensitive lips gently. Relentlessly.

And his tongue finds your most sensitive spot. You gasp, writhe with pleasure as your legs stiffen. You cry out, exchanging your fluttering, flaming tongue for hungry lips. This pleasure is more than you can take. Your muscles tense, your toes curl. You didn't want it to stop, but it was becoming too much. Your insides begin to tremble. Finally he increases the pressure of his suction on your clit. Pleasure, scorching, pure, exquisite pleasure, overwhelms you and you explode. You try to muffle the vocal expressions of your pleasure by biting your lower lip, but he parted your lips with the tip of his finger.

 “Let me hear you,” he says as he gently kisses your lips and chin.

Still on his knees, he takes you in his big arms and embraces you. He kisses you sweetly as you slowly begin to descend from Elysium.

He murmurs satisfyingly. “It’ll be less painful now that you’re so ready for me.” He places soft kisses on your shoulders. “Do you want me to continue?”

You pressed your forehead to his muscular chest and nodded.

He gently lays you on the bed once more, you look at his erection nervously. Like the rest of his body, it is large, hard, and beautiful.

He leans to kiss you and you forget that you're nervous. In a swift move, he puts his hands on your knees, bending them, spreading them apart gently.

“Look at me.”

 You obey. The look on his face is hungry, almost predatory, as he settles between your legs.

You gasp when you feel your Marcus -your General- slowly rubbing against your folds. Coating the tip of his erection in your wetness. You squirm under his torture.

Still keeping your knees spread apart, he bends his body to kiss your mouth. “Even with your incredibly wet response, this will hurt. Tell me when it becomes too much.”

You feel him at your entrance for what feels like an eternity, enjoying the feeling of his erection rubbing your most sensitive spots.

“Surrender,” he commands while gently kissing your face, sensually sliding his hands all over your legs. “Relax.”

You take deep breaths in and out as he kisses first your mouth, then your nipples. He pushes the thick first inch of himself against your tight virgin walls and opens you up. You moan at this foreign sensation and open your eyes wide.

You don't want to say out loud that you don't want him to go deeper, but he reads your body, stops moving and focuses on satisfying the rest of your body while half buried inside you.

His hands have never been as hot on your skin as they are now. He leaves traces on your upper body and makes your body writhe in pleasure. He worships you. He stretches you. He moves slowly, constantly pausing to let your body adjust to him. You breathe sharply, your eyes locked. Your fingernails dig into his back as he starts to penetrate further into you, the pain ripping through your body as you spread to swallow his erection.

Marcus speaks into your neck, his warm breath tingling your skin. “Don't be tense,” he commands in a deep, husky voice that melts you with desire. “Relax, Aya.” He soothes your pain with a long kiss and you open your eyes and feel yourself relax. You love to see him taking your virginity, his beautiful eyes closed on the side of your neck, your body lying vulnerable beneath him. 

When he finally enters you, he lifts his head and looks you up and down, running his hands through your golden hair and looking into your eyes. His pupils dilate. There is a mixture of triumph and tenderness in his eyes.

“You look gorgeous sprawled beneath me.” His breathing is ragged. 

You stay like that for a long time, looking into each other's eyes. Despite the discomfort, you have never felt so close to him and you feel your love for him growing. Similar feelings seem to be burning inside him. The way he is looking at you right now is a combination of admiration, love and lust. You wouldn't change this moment for anything. 

When he feels you are ready, Marcus slowly pulls back, allowing you both to enjoy the painful, exquisite friction. He pushes forward again and you scream at the top of your lungs. The pain is back and you can't decide if this is more pleasure or more pain. All you know is that you don't want him to stop.

A wild growl rises from deep in your throat as he pulls back once more. He groans and slowly thrusts again. And again. Each time in a slow, sensual rhythm. Each time less disturbing and more delicious.

He seems to control himself not to speed up. But it certainly was, Marcus could feel the beast inside him, the beast that was screaming to be released, next time, he thought, not now. His hands leave your knees and grasp your head and kisses you.

It's all too much. The tenderness. The feeling of fullness, the searing warmth of your bodies fitting together like pieces of a puzzle. The thought that even though he's taking his time with you, he's still hard enough to make you feel like you're his. Beads of sweat cover his handsome face. His wheezing breaths on your neck tells you it won't last long.

Your walls are closing more tightly around him now. You feel him trembling. You feel him being released, calling out to you, emptying himself. His sounds of pleasure are music to your ears.

Marcus stays inside you for a while, breathing hard against the side of your neck. You feel his smile on your skin.

When he finally pulls away, it hurts. Both physically and emotionally. You already miss the warm connection between your bodies. He kisses you again and pulls you against his chest.

This whole experience was incredible and unlike anything you have ever experienced before. Every touch, every sound, you felt his love spreading through your whole body, mind and soul. Even after you left, you will always remember him as the man who made this moment so special. And you feel so grateful for that. You adore him right now and you know that you would do anything for him.

And you will for sure. You will do your best to avoid any misunderstanding or damage to his reputation. At that moment you made a firm decision.

You were sure he wouldn't like it, would even be angry, but you had to do it anyway. Your eyelids felt heavy as you felt the warm breeze from the balcony against your skin, Marcus must have fallen asleep too, lying motionless with his muscular arms around you. You fell into a sweet sleep as you pressed your ear against his chest to listen his heartbeat. 

When you woke up you felt a pressure between your legs, right in the center of your womanhood. Also feeling sore, heavy, and groggy. But you tried to move, even though it was difficult. It was still dark outside, you didn't know how long you had slept, but now you had to get up and move to do the other thing you had wanted to do for so long. But Marcus' thick arms were wrapped around you like a cage. Slowly you raised his arm and tried to slip away. He moved a little but didn't open his eyes, he was still asleep, thankfully.

As you got out of bed you felt wetness between your legs and turned around to look at the sheets. They were quite wet, and a red liquid had spread like spilled wine. You felt the blood boiling under your cheeks. You pressed the part of the sheet between your legs, but was that all? All those fears were for this? A triumphant smile spread across your face. You were sure to feel different now, like you were reborn. After all, from tomorrow there would be no more Aya. You picked up your dress from the floor, quickly put it on and went to the General's wooden chest, the letter was still there. Careful not to make a sound, you pushed aside the blank papers and other papyrus and reached for it. As you held it in your hands and looked at it, then you looked over at Marcus, who was sleeping peacefully on the bed. You wished you could give it to him yourself and have him open it in front of you, but you couldn't be sure of his reaction. You stood up and approached the bed, leaned over and put the letter on the dry side of the sheet so he would see it when he woke up. 

“Forgive me, Marcus,” you whispered. 

But you felt you had to do it, to go to your brother Geta before the day of the meeting and tell him everything, yes it sounded stupid, but you were leaving the letter in good hands, the General’s. And that was your assurance.

For some reason you trusted Geta more in Macrinus. Maybe if you tell him about Macrinus' plans he would be on your side, but it was just a hope, a desperate hope. You didn't want to put Marcus in that kind of danger, knowing that he would be there to defend you and oppose them. Maybe he wouldn't, but no matter what, you were going to go first instead of facing them at the council meeting, yes, that was your final decision. 

After lingering on Marcus' face and beautiful body with your eyes for the last time, you left the room. Your chest tightened with pain, it hurt more than between your legs. 

Love is not the solution to everything. But by accepting love and fighting for it, you gave yourself a reason to hope. Leaving him as Aya to meet him again with your new name and your new self. Septimia Aurelia.

Hope you guys enjoyed with horny moments lol

thank you everyone for all likes and comments <3

@myownwholewildworld @orcasoul @pedroslut4eva @immyowndefender @lailathepedritofan @screechingchildfury @shinymusicpanda @somedayheaven @ivoryandflame @negrita2345 @music-lover09 @javiismyhsbnd @idontcareihavenoidea @jisungandpedrolover

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[blueberrypancakesworld]

I am yours and never ours

Caracalla x wife!reader

warning : Spoilers for Gladiator ii, hurt/comfort, kissing, implied mother issues, mention of violence, cuddling, no use of y/n

Summary : It was a mistake to kill the hero, to not give him the mercy he should have received. The riots a sign of overthrow and fall and entrenched in the palace the two brothers and Caracalla's wife, nerves are thin and after a forgetting of temper it seems only love can calm a frightened Caracalla to bring order to the situation.

info : omg the scene was so sad and tense, the bond between the two, i'm fully in my gladiator era. Have fun reading :)

masterlist

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

It had only taken a fraction of a moment, the sun had been right over the Colosseum, giving everyone a chance to get their bearings. Shouts of cheers, boos and cries mingled with the loud voice of Rome.

The emperors sitting impatiently on their chairs, the younger one screaming for death at last, the older one seeming to grow more agitated with every breath, and in the centre the weeping princess as the arrows pierced her beloved.

Justus Acacius was dead, unjustly killed despite the surrender of both fighters, a death that had the emperors rejoicing, but a death that only a few hours later at nightfall had the people roaring.

What at first was still disbelief and shock had become a popular uprising, at the latest with the tumult, the flames raging in the streets and the numerous courageous citizens.

The two brothers also became aware of the uprising and the royal family withdrew in disbelief and indignation to avoid being drawn into it.

Even the Sun of Rome, Caracalla's wife, could not reassure the people who loved her; they seemed to hate her as much as her husband and brother-in-law.

Looking out from behind the solid walls of the palace, she saw the metre-high flames, saw the angry crowd and the few troops of the emperors who could hardly do anything.

Gods have mercy on us she thought and took another sip from her glass as she heard more screams of death and moved away from the window, going back to her family but seeing only the same tension in Geta.

Rarely had she seen him like this if he didn't burst under the pressure at any moment so she was sure he would storm out himself, ,,There may be many but they don't have the weapons and courage of our troops" she said calmly and tried to pour Geta another glass but he turned away.

His gaze had barely noticed her so absorbed he seemed to be thinking about how he could save them all, ,,Ungrateful" he hissed as he looked out and saw nothing but treachery.

The silence in the palace was interrupted only by the footsteps of Macrinus, who withdrew in her presence, she did not trust him and he did not trust her, but her concern lay more with her beloved Caracalla.

She glanced at her husband, who was sitting on a lectus and feeding Dundus his little monkey to calm himself down somehow. However, he looked just as miserable as his brother, they both looked tired, exhausted and completely overwhelmed by everything.

She gave him a smile, trying to keep him amused, ,,You'll all see blood," Caracalla said, returning the smile - it was to be expected that he wanted a whole bloodlust. A betrayal hurts deeply.

Even if it hurt inside her, helplessness and fear had a grip on her too…only Dundus the monkey seemed happy as he let out another little screech when he got a grape.

A mistake.

All of a sudden all she could see was Geta hurrying around, ,,Get that annoying monkey out of here!" shouting at his brother and slapping the wine in his brother's face.

Startled, she gasped, calling out Geta's name in warning, his eyes filled with anger and remorse, she knew it was the situation, knew the tension but nothing would help.

As she hurried over to Caracalla and gently placed her hand on his shoulder, he looked more like a weeping dog than an emperor, ,,Come my king, we should feed Dundus somewhere else" she said, helping him up slightly and telling him to go ahead into the throne room.

She walked past Geta who just looked down shaking his head and cursing himself, he had taken it too far. ,,I'll be right back why don't you get us some wine Macrinus" she said and didn't bother because his fake smile told her all she needed to know as he disappeared and she sighed and hurried on her way.

Her footsteps echoed in the empty corridors and the throne room, Dundus shrieked and she heard the sniffle, ,,Love? My King Caracalla, where are you?" she asked quietly, swallowing down the lump rising in her throat as she thought back to the episodes he had already had.

She and Geta loved him but this madness would be the downfall of them all. She continued to walk around the room, first looking behind the throne where he sometimes hid, but he wasn't sitting there.

,,Caracalla? It's your sun, do you understand?" she asked and finally saw the blond head of hair peeking out from behind one of the curtains behind which he had curled up.

She heard his crying, the sniffling as he peeked out from behind it and she got down on her knees, ,,It's-It's all right, come here to me, you know who I am, don't you?" she continued to ask calmly, hiding the slight trembling in her hands under the fabric of her clothes as she saw the man she loved so fragile.

Slowly he emerged from his ‘hiding place’ and nodded cautiously as he crawled towards her, ,,You…you're my wife," he sniffled his words barely intelligible as Dundus continued to tote on his shoulders and the chain rattled.

Nodding hastily, she smiled slightly relieved that he at least recognised her, sitting in front of her probably not quite knowing what he wanted or needed, ,,You are mine" he seemed to understand instead as he placed his hand on hers and she didn't pull it away.

Yours, mine, ours words she had heard so often, she was his wife but our joy.

It's like a coin with two sides only one can come up and the other stays in the shadow, only the balance on the edge can go but with enormous precision or trust and love…something that was all the more difficult at such a time between the two brothers.

She nodded again and pulled him close, lying in her lap like a boy with his mother, his, ,,I'm yours," she assured him, carefully using the sleeve of her dress to wipe his face.

Mostly delusional, she quickly realised that he was like a small child who simply needed her mother, a woman who had died at an early age and she filled that role.

An initial squirming soon turned into an amused laugh as she wiped the wine from his face and at least he wasn't crying, ,,Tickled" he muttered and she couldn't help but smile bitterly, the delusion was a horror and a blessing in one.

Another coin.

Dundus played with the blond curls as Caracalla's fingers, which had been playing with each other before, slid to hers, ,,He's been hurting me since we were sin the womb, you're not his or ours…you're mine…like Rome should be mine," he suddenly said, gripping her tighter.

Blue eyes showed the fire of madness and she stroked his cheek, she knew the story of the womb, but she knew just as well that madness could be transmitted by whores, was it a lie or the truth?

Trying to stifle a shaky breath, she placed a kiss on his lips, tasting the wine, tasting sage and tasting blood, ,,You two are like the creators of Rome, two sides my love. But think what Geta has done for you, for me, for all of Rome…you are the king, Geta is the god and I am the sun," she reminded him of the story she had made up during one of his episodes.

Caracalla a king of honour who could have all the blood in the world, his brother the political god and she the sun who held them all together.

A story that made him pause, his memories shrouded in mist, he needed time while she continued to hold him gently and stroke his cheek, his grip on her hand tightening and softening, ,,Yes? Yes, I think so…I think so...despite the pain, I-I still have you" he slowly realised and sanity returned to his being.

As he cuddled up to her and laid his head in the crook of her neck and held her like that for a moment, tears in her eyes as she blinked them away and thanked the gods again that nothing bad had happened.

Caracalla's hand was also on her cheek and she saw the gold tooth as she smiled, ,,Thank you my sun" she heard him say before he pulled her into a kiss, finally back to her senses as he slowly pulled away from her and helped her stand up.

Despite the riots, despite Geta and despite the madness, the Emperor was still here, gently grasping her hand and once more locking her in a kiss, even if Rome fell they would not give up trying to help him out of this doom.

From the moment she had taken him as her husband, she knew that she would always be there for him and that Caracalla would never stop loving her. Because even in madness there was nothing stronger than love.

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

@potatoesenpaii , @rainbowbox , @thankyouperconte , @myromanempire81 , @k-yurieee

[the-a-word-2214]

I would love to see some more content for Caracalla and Geta. Just saw Gladiator II and can’t get them out of my head.

[byronking]

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