#heartline | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

visionsofyouandme · 2 months ago

Text

I. that original lifeline

𝚜𝚢𝚗𝚘𝚙𝚜𝚒𝚜: A celebration, a visit, the marketplace- it's all your beginning of something new.

𝚠/𝚌: 5.6k

𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜/𝚝𝚊𝚐𝚜: Slow burn. Sexual tension. Food & alcohol consumption. Love at first sight-type meeting. Exposition. Age gap (or no age gap- you decide!). Marcus is That Guy™️. Terrible use of ancient Latin (and Swahili? bear with me). Symbolic dreams.

𝙰/𝙽: Well, well, well... Who's really surprised here? Marcus has a chokehold on me, like he does on most people. Starting a series is always daunting, and I'm kind of writing it with a vague outline of what will happen. Probably going to open up asks to get some inspiration and advice! Anyway, I hope you enjoy this lil series that I've been dying to share.

Read here on AO3!

Walking through the courtyard of the massive celebration, Marcus felt out of place.

Having just come back from a recent campaign, he always had a hard time adjusting to life off the battlefront. That was where he belonged- among men, sword in hand, blood on his skin, rage coursing through his veins. To be here, welcomed with smiles instead of grimaces, drinks flowing instead of blood, and the scent of incense instead of death in the air was all… strange. Familiar yet foreign.

Dreams had plagued him for nights on the battlefield, filled with cries of the grieving and moans of agony. Fires burning, the stench of death seemed to be all around him. No matter how far he wandered, he would be stuck in a never ending field of death. If it was what Pluto had condemned him in sleep, he feared what awaited him in the afterlife.

But, there had been a shift in his dreams. Instead of wandering aimlessly among the dead, he followed a figure- slim, ethereal, and leading him to peace. He never saw her face, but he knew she held the key to a life finally calm and filled with tranquility. But every time he reached out for her, and she began to turn, he awoke with a racing heart and sweat collecting on his brow.

Now, he saw friends- really, acquaintances- and greeted them with smiles, handshakes, nods of acknowledgement as he passed. They showered him with jovial tones, congratulations of a campaign well-won. If only they knew the looks of terror the opposition had on their faces as Marcus slayed them on the battlefield, surrounded by strong and capable men. Some of the opposition weren’t even men- some of them were young boys with weak holds on swords. Boys who should have been growing up, and not fighting the rich man’s battles.

But, Marcus could not think of that now. He was here to celebrate not himself, but another acquaintance who had just accelerated to a seat in the Senate. Marcus was no politician, but he was invited as one of the highest ranking generals in Rome.

All he could see were the boys’ eyes, wide as their life seeped from their bodies, crimson all around them. A goblet of wine was thrust into his hands, and he saw himself in the deep red liquid, and the poor boys’ corpses who littered the ground at his feet.

A voice called to him, and he lifted his head with a forced smile as he walked over to the group of men in luxurious and colorful togas. They welcomed him, some patting him on the back, with more compliments thrown his way. He would just nod and wave his hand. Simple, dismissive.

“And Caecilius, here, he is just recently wed! And to a lovely little thing, too.” one of them said, patting an older, shorter, sparsely-silver haired man on the shoulder. He looked so frail that Marcus could have breathed too harshly and knocked him over. But, the man nodded, smiling with joy.

“She truly is a vision. Would make even Venus jealous with her beauty.” Caecilius said, and raised an arm in greeting as his eyes moved over Marcus’ shoulder. When he turned, he was completely taken aback.

Surely this was not Caecilius’ new bride?

You walked- no, floated- with such grace that Marcus could not tear his gaze away. You looked young. Far too young to be married to an old and decrepit man such as the Roman council member. But, you smiled, moving past Marcus to come to Caecilius’ side, taking his arm.

“How are you, my dove? Hopefully not partaking in too much drink?” Caecilius laughed, and you produced a fresh goblet of wine in your hand.

“As fine as this night is. And of course not, I would not make a fool of myself in such a public place.” you said, and Marcus could only watch in awe… and jealousy. You were an excellent vision of beauty- hair done in the latest fashionable style, neck and wrists adorned in gold, even threaded through your hair. The curve of your lips, the angle of your eyes, the tone of your skin all drew him in like a ship sailing towards its beacon. Like a sailor chases the stars at night, like a poet upholds its muse.

“... General Acacius has just returned, himself. And to come back to such a celebration!” one of the men said, his name jarring him back to reality. He didn’t realize he had been staring, but saw you looking expectantly back at him. He cleared his throat, nodded and took a sip of wine.

“Yes. Another successful win for Rome and her people!” Caecilius said, raising his goblet. It was then that Marcus noticed he was swaying on his feet, really only standing upright because of your hold on him.

“Your city and people thank you, General Acacius.” you said for the first time, directed at him. And your voice? Gods, your voice could rival the sweetest chorus of the city, and the way you said his name had him weak in the knees. He would have fallen to them and bent to your every whim had your… Had your husband not been standing next to you.

The jarring fact that you were taken ripped through him like a knife to a piece of cloth. You were already spoken for, and this hurt him immensely.

While you held his gaze for a moment, you then said something to Caecilius that he could not hear and pulled away, walking through the crowd. His eyes followed you, though the conversation the men had continued on in rancorous laughter. He finally swiveled, his brown eyes casting back to the men before him, but his mind reaching for you. Reaching as if to call you back into his sights so he could admire your beauty again.

It was later in the evening when the sun had set that he had found you again. You stood on the balcony of the second story, alone, leaning against the bannister as your face turned towards the sun. It cast you in a beautiful golden glow, and he felt like he was imposing upon a piece of living art.

But, selfishly, he wanted to hear your voice again. To hold your gaze, your attention.

Before he could breathe a word, you turned your head to him, and smiled.

“General Acacius. We meet yet again.” you said, and he walked towards the bannister to stand next to you, offering a soft smile.

“And so we do. Where is your spouse?” he questioned, and the smile faded on your face, turning to face the sun again. Your grimace was disguised as a squint to look towards the orange and pink skies, and he wished for nothing more than to see your smile again.

“I am sure he is wining and dining with the finest of Rome. I am surprised you are not joining him.” you said, a tightness to your tone that he did not like.

“I would much rather take a step back, look out rather than in. The sunset is beautiful, dare I say the best part of the day, save the dawn that beckons a new beginning.” Marcus said, and stood closer to you, his body facing the rays of sun that were beginning to fade under the horizon. He glanced at you in his periphery, and you continued to look out. He continued to stand, content with the sound of the party continuing behind you both as the sun made its way steadily down.

“Are you really as fearsome as they say?” You finally said, and he looked at you to see you were looking down now, fiddling with your gold cuffs. He watched you with a gentle expression. Your hands, so soft and lithe, he knew they had never held a day’s worth of work in their life. Innocent, untouched.

Oh, how it ached to know you were already spoken for.

“What do you think?” he said, and your gaze moved to meet his own. You studied him, tilting your head to the side as your eyes swept him up and down.

“I think you are just a man. Capable of good as well as bad. That is what is expected of all good leaders, yes?” You questioned, and he felt something stir within him. His deep brown eyes never strayed from yours, not even to the sunset he was praising just moments ago.

“I am whatever you make of me, My Lady.” Marcus said quietly, and you looked at him, a hint of surprise crossing your face. Your hands continued their work on your cuffs, spinning them this way and that. A nervous habit, he observed. He could only wonder why you were acting so, if you thought of him as nothing but a simple man.

“You should mind yourself, people will talk.” You say, and he frowned deeply, but knew what you insinuated. How could anyone speak of your conversation, when it was nothing but innocent? You were not entirely unchaperoned, the laughter and chatter of the party were only feet behind you. Anyone could come out and see you two, and there would be nothing to hide.

But, Marcus wanted something to hide. He could barely contain his gaze as he looked at you, coming across as both lustful and adoring. He could only wonder which way you took it, but he felt both so deeply in his bones that he wouldn’t know what to do with himself. He could reach out and touch you now, move his arm just so to brush against yours, intertwine his little finger with yours.

How had you bewitched him so?

“Go. Be with your kind, in celebration and laughter.” you said, nodding back to the threshold that held the party within. Marcus’ eyes never left you, though, and his feet did not move to carry him elsewhere.

“What is your name?” he questioned, his voice more steady than he anticipated. Your gaze slowly moved up to meet his, and you breathed your name so lightly that it could have been the wind. He repeated it, feeling sweeter than honey rolling off of his tongue.

“I would like to know how to properly address such a decoris femina (beautiful woman).” This drew a small smile on your face, and you looked away shyly with a minute shake of your head.

“You flatter me, General-”

“Marcus.” he countered, and slowly but swiftly took your hand in his, raising it to his lips. Your knuckles, tender and delicate, brushed across his lips, the small bit of his facial hair tickling your skin. “I implore you, call me Marcus.”

“But, it is improper. You are a General, the General Acacius. I should address you as such.” You said quietly, the soft rise and fall of your chest under your stola causing Marcus an internal battle between watching that or your mesmerizing eyes. He was just a man, after all- like you said.

“If I order you to call me Marcus, will you deny me?” he questioned, and you stiffened at first, then melted as he lowered your hand to rest within his on the bannister. He tilted his head forward, eyebrows raised in question. You resigned yourself to shake your head, and he felt something like pride swell in his chest.

“May I call upon you again?” he questioned, and your eyebrows knit together, eyes shifting to the doorway. You shook your head slightly, though he could still see the shuddering rise and fall of your chest.

“I do not think that is wise-”

“I will see your husband, then. And you will be there, yes?” he questioned, his tone so light and hopeful that it made his stomach twist with fear. What if you denied him? What if you refused to see him after tonight?

Your eyes finally moved to his own, and he gave your hand the gentlest squeeze of encouragement.

“I will be having wine and food midday tomorrow. Whether or not my husband is there, is up to chance.” you said, and he smiled a bit wider than he could help. He nodded, his eyes alight with excitement, but he countered it with a neutral expression.

“Right. I suppose I will have to call to see if he is available.” he said, and you smiled lightly, knowingly. Nodding, you pulled your hand from his grasp and clasped your hands in front of you.

“And so you shall. I- we would be so happy to have the General as our guest. Under any given circumstances.” you said, and he chuckled, looking back at the horizon that was now dark, turning light blue and black to signal the night had come. He felt your hand on his arm, his head swiveling so fast he thought it might come off.

“I will be looking forward to your visit, Marcus.” you said quietly, like it was a secret between the two of you, your hand dropping. His eyes flitted between yours, and he smiled. Yes, it was like a secret. One he was intent on keeping close to the chest for as long as he could help it.

Days later, you hadn’t found yourself worrying about Marcus’ coming to your home until the sun was high in the sky. Caecilius had left for a “meeting” with other senators, which you took as a sign he was going out to drink, be merry, and indulge in debauchery. You didn’t mind, so long as he was away from you and gave you a bit of peace.

You had your servants place the table for one, knowing it would seem suspicious if you set one up for another. You were beginning to think he wasn’t coming, and sat at the table in the garden. Just as you had picked up a grape, your houseguard announced General Acacius’ presence. You stiffened, and slowly put down the fruit and rose, turning to see him approach in a red toga with gold trim. You offered a smile, and his eyes shone with the sun and a hint of something else.

“General Acacius. To what do I owe the pleasure of your coming here?” you questioned, but knew full well his reasoning. He smiled knowingly, and looked around,

“I was inquiring if your husband was here.” he said, and you shook your head,

“Regretfully, he is not. Out on senate business. However, may I entertain you for a bit? Food has just been laid out.” you said, gesturing next to you. He looked down at it thoughtfully, and then nodded. You asked for another place to be made for Marcus, and he settled into the seat across from you. Picking up the grape you had discarded, you had bit into it and pure sweetness flooded your tastebuds. Dismissing your servants, you looked to Marcus, who was already gazing at you.

“You look well, My Lady.” he said, his voice soft, and you smiled, taking another piece of fruit.

“As do you, General. I hope you enjoyed the celebration of your victories, and that you enjoyed the company of many.” you replied, and he picked up a piece of pomegranate, looking down at it. You watched him, the way his large, calloused, strong hand held the delicate fruit with such tender care. You selfishly and fleetingly thought of what those same hands would feel like wrapped around your body.

“I particularly enjoyed the company of one. That is all I remember from it.” he said, his words making your heart flutter. You smiled and took a sip of wine, eyes casting to the bountiful food place between the two of you.

“However I did not meet you before, it is a mystery. I did not know Caecilius had a new wife until your introduction.” he said, and the bitter reality settled in and you did your best to contain your disdain. You shrugged,

“Caecilius and I share a similar background- widowed, others looking for a decent union. My father pressed it, and Caecilius was more than willing to accept.” you said, trying to state the facts but your face became hard, lips pressed together. To mask it, you took a sip of wine, but Marcus could see right through it.

“Widowed?” he questioned, and you nodded, sitting a bit straighter with a sigh.

“My former spouse was an officer of the Roman army. Septimus Juventus. Did you know him?” you questioned, and your eyes moved to Marcus, who looked deep in thought, looking over at the fountain.

“I do not think I had the pleasure of meeting him.” he said, and you noted a stiffness to his tone. You did not press, but Marcus turned his head back and grabbed a piece of bread. Even that was small in comparison to his hands. Tearing a piece off, he dipped it in the mixture of oil and herbs, taking a bite.

“He was… a soldier. Proud, assertive… thought he would be the next great leader of the Roman Army.” you mused, and shook your head. Marcus was quiet, patient, listening. His brown eyes were receptive, understanding. “He was killed in a battle overseas. They burned his body in a funeral rite, and I heard about his death via messenger boy. Next thing I know, I am to be wed to Caecilius.” you recounted.

“Did you love him?” Marcus questioned, and your gaze never strayed from him. You lifted your chin slightly, like you had encountered a bad smell, and your smile was sour.

“As much as any good wife could love their husband through an arranged marriage.” you said, tone clipped and you shook your head minutely, eyes roaming the garden and let out a breathy laugh. “Please, do carry on from my lamentations. I cannot bore my honored guest.”

Marcus smiled weakly, and shook his head, “You could never bore me, My Lady. I wish to know about you, your past and present and future.”

This took you by surprise. No one, especially not a man, had ever spoken to you in such a gentle and concerned way. His gaze was genuine, eyebrows knit together in a way that offered worry, but also comfort. You looked down, and busied yourself with another grape.

“I am not my past. The present is here. And my future has already been decided.” you said, with a curt nod, and Marcus shook his head.

“The future is up to the Fates. They spin the web of life and pull us back and forth. Nothing is ever set in stone.” he said, and his words offered you comfort. Maybe one day you would be free from this prison that all of the men in your life had encased you in.

“Well, then. If I may be truthful, the present is much more bearable with you in it.” you said casually, but Marcus stilled in his seat, eyes moving up and down your figure. You acted like you did not see, and picked up a piece of bread and meat. When you finally had the courage to raise your eyes, you saw him looking down at a piece of fruit and smiling gently, shaking his head.

“Do I amuse you?” you questioned, cocking an eyebrow. He took a bite, taking time to chew and to look back at the sprawling gardens of your villa.

“Your straightforwardness is admirable. Are you this direct all the time?”

“Why? Are you going to cut out my tongue for it?”

Marcus smiled, and shook his head with a chuckle.

“No, no. I quite like it. Not many people speak so freely of themselves in Rome. Much less women.” he said, and you nodded, your shoulder offering an apathetic shrug.

“I have nothing to lose, except my life. And even that is treated as a piece to be bargained off like cattle.” you said. You really did feel you had nothing to lose. You had no family to care for, no one to love and protect and to truly provide for. Your soul was just a lost ship in the night, bobbing in the waves, listless.

Marcus gave you the slightest beacon of light. Hope and light.

But, could you trust it? Or was it leading you straight to the rocks?

“You are anything but. You are a figment of beauty, of grace. Smart as a whip, a tongue quicker than a viper.” he said, and you laughed out loud.

“You flatter me yet again, General Acacius. You best be careful, sir, or I will find your affections to be real and true.”

“Would that be such a bad thing?” he questioned, his voice quiet that only you could hear it from across the table. There was a longing in his eyes, a plea of want, and you smiled sadly.

“In a world like this, one cannot afford such luxuries such as true affection. Not if they want to maintain appearances and status.” you said with a resigned look, and Marcus frowned deeply.

“Do you care about that? Appearances and status?”

“No. Not for me, but for you.” you sighed, and took your glass in hand, swirling the liquid thoughtfully. “You are the Roman General, people love you and look up to you for guidance and strength. If they find something to have tainted your image, you may lose all of that, and more.”

“I do not think I could value those things over love.” he said quietly, and you swallowed dryly. “Valor? Glory? The thrill of a victory? They mean nothing in life when you have no one to love at the end of day’s light.”

Was this his way of saying-? No. It couldn’t be. You were young, but not young enough to believe in such foolishness. You shook yourself internally of the spell the General was seeming to put over you.

“You speak like a poet, General.”

“Marcus.” he finally reminded you, and you smiled lightly. “But I am not a poet. Just an honest man with intentions that are clear and true.”

“And what would those intentions entail?”

He smiled, and chuckled deeply. “The more I see you, the clearer they will become,” he explained, and you felt that small glimmer of hope light within you. You couldn’t help the soft smile that graced your face, and nodded.

“I will be counting on that, then. Seeing where you lead with your intentions.” you said. He nodded, and raised his glass,

“To the future, and all that it holds. May the Gods treat us kindly, and the Fates weave their web in good fortune.” he said, and you nodded in agreement, raising your own glass.

“To the future.”

A few days had passed. You still held on to the conversations with Marcus close to the chest, confiding in your close friend from the African colonies, Jaheim. He was the only one who understood your struggles, having faced some of his own overcoming oppression and fighting for Roman citizenship. He was also the only one who you could truly confide in, every else too untrustworthy and suspicious. You didn’t want any handmaidens or servants going to Caecilius and revealing your meeting with Marcus.

Walking through the market in the heart of Rome, you looked over fruits in the vendor stands, placing a few in your basket and paying the seller with fine gold coins, Jaheim at your side.

“So, the General has taken a liking to a Briton. Who’d have thought you would have that luxury?” Jaheim laughed, and you shook your head, a frown on your face.

“He doesn't know I am not fully Roman. He may turn away should he find that out. People frown upon “half-breeds.” It is a miracle father pushed for my marriages and were successful in them,” you said sourly, and Jaheim shrugged.

“You make a very convincing Roman lady. No one would think you’re a savage by blood.” he chuckled, and you cast him a hard look, but rolled your eyes.

“Fooled you once, too.”

“Ah, but I could see right through you. However, I am more observant than most men of Rome. They see women as nothing but objects- to use or to admire or both. Where I am from, women are warriors. Fighters. Strong, unwavering. You remind me of them.” Jaheim said, and you smiled sadly.

“I wish that were true. I feel like I am not strong, having been tossed around from man to man. I am no better than a common whore.” you said, and Jaheim stopped you with a hand on your arm, his eyebrows furrowed deeply.

“Rafiki yangu (my friend), do you think I am also lesser because of my past? That is what they want you to believe. We rise above what they think, what they assume. We are stronger than what they think. Who we are resides here,” he said, putting his hand on his heart, giving you a light smile. “Kitakuwa sawa (it will be alright). We must persevere. What else is there to do?”

“Where would I be without you?” you breathed, and placed a hand on his shoulder. “You have given me more wisdom in the short time that i’ve known you than any tutor I have ever had.”

“Well, they do not have my worldly experiences, nor the insight of different perspectives on life. Or my stunningly good looks and mesmerizing charm.” he said with a smug expression. You laughed, shaking your head as you weaved in and out of the people.

“I wish I had your confidence. And your good looks.” You stopped at a vendor and looked over the silver and gold jewelry, Jahiem began to converse with an acquaintance that had approached, leaving you to your devices. You picked up a particularly beautiful gold necklace with an engraving of a goddess.

“Good choice! Juno- Queen of the heavens, fertility, and wife of the most powerful of the gods. I always say the first one you choose is a way of that god or goddess reaching out to you. Perhaps she has something in store for your future.” The saleswoman said, and you glanced at her, knowing she was just trying to push a sale, but your stomach fluttered a bit with anticipation. You began to put it back until a voice came up beside you,

“She will have it. Name your price.”

Your head whipped to see Marcus standing next to you, and you tried to hide the surprised look on your face. He cast you a soft smile and handed the woman over far too many coins than the necklace was worth. She bowed and thanked him with a twinkle in her eye, and you smiled and took the necklace in your hand. Marcus gestured for you to walk, and your eyes cast up and down his form in a purple toga with silver linings on the edges, signaling his high status. You smiled lightly,

“General Acacius. What a surprise.” You said, genuinely happy to see him but kept it down. He looked so handsome in the sunlight, the silver in his robes reflecting his own silver in his hair.

“I came to the market for entertainment and food. Looks like I found a little more than that.” He said, and you bit your lower lip to keep the smile that threatened to spread on your face. “You seem to have had a bountiful haul. But surely, it is getting heavy.” He noted, and you shook your head,

“No. It’s bearable, really-“

“Allow me.” He said, taking the basket without further argument, and your eyes narrowed at him but didn’t dare try to retrieve it from him. To do so would draw eyes, and you did not want to invite more speculation to yourself.

A voice called your name, and you turned back in relief to see Jahiem come up to your side.

“I was just telling Athos about the new bathhouse. He invited me to-“ but he stopped abruptly when he saw Marcus standing there, holding your basket. He seemed to wrack his mind for the identity of the man standing next to you, so tall and stoic. He looked at him with a hardened face, and Jahiem could only guess it could be one person.

“General Acacius… It is an honor.” He greeted with a bow, the sly look on his face as he glanced at you. You felt your face flush, thankful for the heat to mask it. You smiled at Jahiem, and gave his arm a firm squeeze.

“The honor is mine. Your name? You are a friend of the Lady’s?” Marcus questioned, his brown eyes questioning as he looked between you and the man with rich brown skin and sparkling blue eyes like the ocean.

“Jahiem Ventus,” he introduced, and bowed gently. “The Lady and I have a closeness, all good-natured and amiable of course.” He said, and Marcus nodded, his eyes moving back to you.

“Perhaps I could steal her away? Walk the rest of the marketplace with her?” Marcus questioned, and you opened your mouth to speak but Jahiem smiled wide,

“Of course, General. I was just about to steal away myself with a friend. But I wouldn’t dream of leaving her unchaperoned.” Jahiem said, and you glowered at him.

“I believe I am capable of taking care of myself on my own, my friend.” You said icily, and he looked at her with a nod, but a bit of shame in his face.

“My apologies. But I will see you at the games, yes?” He said, leaning to give you a kiss on the cheek. You forced a smile and returned the sentiment,

“Of course. Be on your best behavior, now.” You said, patting his shoulder gently and he chuckled, giving you a wink.

“Only the Gods can judge that. Good day.” He said to you, then Marcus and bowed respectfully before departing. Marcus chuckled, and shifted the basket in his hand.

“Your friend is amusing. You do not seem pleased that he released you to me.”

“Yet another man speaking for me does not please me, General. I exercise what little free will I have. I shall walk with whom I please.” You said, and Marcus looked at you with furrowed brows.

“You do not wish to be accompanied?” He questioned, and you looked at him, seeing that pitiful look on his face. You sighed, and shook your head with a small smile.

“Hard to deny you when you look at me like that.” You said, and turned to keep walking. You glanced down at the necklace and Marcus turned in step beside you.

“Look at you like what?” He questioned teasingly, and you grinned down at your hand before looking up.

“Do not make me say it, General. It could be a dangerous observation.” You said, and stepped past a salesperson boasting the best leather sandals, entirely too close to you for comfort. You felt Marcus shift closer to you, as if to stave the man off if he came any closer and you clasped the necklace tight in your hand.

“Here, My Lady. Allow me.” He said, and handed off the basket to you in exchange for the necklace. You paused, and he swiftly put it around your neck, clasping it and letting it sit over your collarbones. His fingertips rested on the top of your spine for just a beat, and your heart flew into your throat. You cleared your throat, and looked at him when he came back around. He regarded you with a smile,

“As radiant as ever.” He complimented, and you looked at him with a soft expression. You looked away as you both neared the end of the marketplace, and felt your chest deflate at the thought of having to part with him.

“You mentioned the games, are you going to be present for them? In the Colosseum?” Marcus questioned, and you nodded.

“Yes. Caecilius insisted we join a few other senators and their wives for the spectacle. I could do without the gore and bloodbath, but I suppose I must keep up appearances.” You sighed, and Marcus nodded thoughtfully. You could see the gears turning in his mind as he looked off into the distance.

“Perhaps you will also find your way there?” You questioned casually, and you could sense the faintest smile from Marcus. He shrugged halfheartedly,

“Perhaps.” He said vaguely, and you smiled small yourself. Marcus’ hand brushed yours at your side, and it took everything in you to keep from taking his smallest finger within your own in the sea of people in the marketplace.

That night, Marcus dreamed.

The same sounds of anguish and cries of pain echoed around him, his feet crunching under the gravel of the battlefield. The smoke and dirt wafted around, but he saw the figure ahead of him, leading him through it all. While the field was cloaked in darkness, he saw sun threatening to break on the horizon, where he followed the figure. Whoever this was, she would bring him to peace and serenity. Was it the goddess Minerva, with all of her wisdom and finally bringing him out of war? Or maybe Eos, the goddess who brought the new dawn, signaling the end of darkness?

But, he stopped as the sun finally broke the horizon, and the figure turned to him.

You looked at him, a small smile on your face, and extended your hand out for him.

Reaching out, he knew you would lead him to salvation.

Comment, like, reblog, anything is appreciated! Divider by @/saradika-graphics!

#marcus acacius #marcus acacius x you #marcus acacius x reader #marcus acacius x female reader #gladiator ii fanfiction #marcus acacius x ofc #visionsfics #heartlines series

84 notes · View notes