#virgo vestalis

[sermessmer]

Solemn duty weighs upon the one beholden; not unlike a gnawing curse from which there is no deliverance.

The abduction of a Finger Maiden occurs in the Land of Shadows at the hands of Messmer’s army, her presence taken as a sign that Queen Marika has not truly abandoned her faithful. Lusha does not know what twist of fate has brought her to this accursed place, nor the twisting sense of familiarity that gnaws incessantly as she journeys deeper.

And nigh-sainthood itself awaits her within.

[8scorpiotemple]

百年阡陌

這裡科普一下文裡會出現大量的「維斯塔」這個詞。

「維斯塔貞女」或稱「護火貞女」（拉丁語：Virgo Vestalis，原正式全銜：Sacerdos Vestalis），是古羅馬爐灶和家庭女神維斯塔的女祭司。

維斯塔貞女的祭司職位是由六位女祭司（上古晚期為七位）組成，其年齡介於六至十歲間，必須守貞、侍奉神祇至少三十年。她們的主要任務是守護維斯塔神廟的爐灶，不讓聖火澆熄。

這段話從維琪百科截取出來的，所以這不是我自編的。

其實羅馬的維斯塔，就是希臘的赫斯緹雅。

姓名：赫雅

外貌：紅發褐眼

身高：165公分

體重：50公斤

（其他就不重要了，如果再寫下去根本在寫我自己的檔案……誒。）

經歷：從記事起，赫雅就一直生活在維斯塔教，這是一個侍奉爐灶女神赫雅緹雅的教宗，而她們的主要任務是守護維斯塔神廟的爐灶，不讓聖火澆熄，以祈求整個城邦的安定。

由於深得維斯塔教母的喜愛，也一直被喻為會是下一任維斯塔教的教母，所以赫雅從小就被養成嬌縱任性的個性。

五歲的時候，她跟著教母一起前往聖域拜謁教皇史昂，並隨教母的指示在聖域三個地方點燃聖火（一處在牡羊宮；一處在女神像；一處在射手宮和天蠍宮中間的──也就是後來的蛇夫宮），為的就是替還在強褓中的雅典娜，增添整個聖域結界的強度──據說這是神話時代的時候，兩位處女神所達成的協議。

由於當時艾俄洛斯不在宮裡，史昂指派米羅帶赫雅去點燃聖火，卻被遠在別處的刻爾阻攔，兩人打翻了聖火爐，聖火熄滅，雖然赫雅立即重新點燃，但刻爾��放的惡靈在一瞬間立即支配撒加的主意識。

幾天後，趁著各黃金聖鬥士去修行這段期間，佔領撒加意識的惡靈，殺教皇刺女神，艾俄洛斯為了救女神，被冠上叛徒罪名，從此聖域一夕變天，並向其他小眾神祉教宗發動殲滅，首當其衝就是維斯塔教。

而在之前，教母命赫雅前往米洛斯島的維斯塔分教，而那一天，也是米羅恰好要去米洛斯島修行，兩人在船上就立即吵嘴起來。

在米洛斯島的這段期間，脾氣蠻橫的赫雅偶爾會去找米羅小鬧一下。

一天，赫雅回去維斯塔分教的時候，遠遠便聽見一陣陣從教堂貞女哀嚎的聲音，她立即跑了回去，便看見聖域的雜兵正在破壞教堂，貞女一個個被抓，有的比較頑固的貞女當場被殺。

小小的赫雅被這場景被嚇的六神無主，躲在附近的荒廢的石牆旁，由於動作太大，意外把早已頹廢不堪的石牆撞倒，巨大的聲音引來雜兵的注意，赫雅哆嗦的躲在牆角，正當雜兵要發現赫雅之際，米羅從後面走了出來，表明自己收到教皇的密令函，而這裡並沒有維斯塔的貞女。

看到米羅的出現，赫雅的疑問在腦海裡劇烈翻攪，她揪著衣襬，眼睛直勾勾地瞪著米羅。

「你們為什麼要殺害我們貞女？」

「你們祀奉的雅典娜跟我們祀奉的赫斯緹雅有什麼本質上的不一樣嗎？」

「大家……！不是都為了這片土地在守護的嗎？！」

連續幾個問題讓米羅回答不出來。

他不相信那位慈愛的教母會想併吞聖域。

他不相信那位和藹的教皇會向其他教宗發動肅清。

而他更不相信那位正直、又被喻為下一任教皇的艾俄洛斯會是一個勾結外教，又想殺害雅典娜的叛徒。但再如何不相信，他卻只能緘默著聽從教皇的指令。

「妳這頭紅長髮太明顯了。」

米羅把赫雅的長髮用自己的指甲給切斷，並替她套上斗篷協助她逃離米洛斯島。

到了渡船頭，幾名雜兵本想盤問赫雅身份，但礙于米羅的身份，雜兵們也不敢多問，就放了米羅和赫雅。

回到雅典的赫雅，趁著米羅不注意的時候逃離他的視線──從此米羅再也沒有赫雅的消息。

流離失所的赫雅，意外地跟還活著的維斯塔貞女們重逢，但她們卻成了妓女，畢竟她們為了掩人耳目，為了生活，這是她們所選擇的。

為了不想成為貞女們的負擔，赫雅隱瞞自己是女孩子的身份，她一直保持著男裝打扮，在妓院做一些��役打雜的工作，直到她十三歲的時候，身體的發育愈來愈好，她再也知道自己不能再女扮男裝留在妓院工作。

就在老闆娘第三度要她接客的時候，她忍無可忍，手裡一揚一團火勁從她手裡竄起差點燒到老闆娘（這時她才驚覺自己操控火焰的能力），老闆娘立刻想到多年前有一位聖域在捉拿的女孩，如果照年齡時間推算的話，那女孩也該像赫雅這個年紀。

老闆娘也知道，如果不是聖域迫害，原本這些貞女都該是成為萬人景仰的維斯塔祭司，哪會都淪為娼妓？但她也不可能再讓赫雅留在妓院，於是答應只要赫雅離開就好。

赫雅在被老闆娘趕出妓院之際，其中一位貞女希望赫雅去聖域，幫忙找出被滅教的原因，於是赫雅把在妓院賺到的錢全部買通掮客，用在只要能夠在聖域裡工作就好。

來到聖域，赫雅依舊從最低階的普通侍女開始做起，由於她性子高傲，又常年在妓院裡工作，雖然跟其他貞女感情和睦，但早早就體會到了人情人暖，因此她的臉上人永遠保持著一貫的冷淡。

普通侍女做了三年，她發現低階侍女依舊無法瞭解聖域當年的真相，當年她和教母來到聖域的時候，聖域是充滿著一片祥和，但此時的聖域卻充斥著殺戮之氣，而這一切都是她跟教母離開聖域後不久，史昂性情大變導致的。

她現在回想起初遇史昂的時候，雖然只有一面之緣，雖然還隔著青銅面具，但她怎麼不願意相信現在的聖域，是那位有著溫和的小宇宙的老人所管理出來的。

如果要成為教皇侍女，就得先成宮裡的侍女才行。

由於赫雅的星命點是落在獅子座，因此理應是該成為獅子宮侍女，但跟赫雅同期的侍女，跟赫雅說自己曾經被艾奧裡亞救過，想要報答他的恩情，赫雅認為就算成為其他宮侍女也不會礙於她想找出真相，於是跟同期交換星命，等到分派各宮的時候，赫雅才驚覺自己是天蠍宮侍女。

米羅再次看見赫雅時，他的驚訝不亞於赫雅，在這十年來，米羅私底下也一直在打聽著赫雅的消息，但一直無果，雖然不清楚赫雅為什麼會成為天蠍宮的侍女，但看著眼前的紅發少女，赫雅也已經不像當年那般，她以前的傲，是自信，但現在的傲，是冷淡。

看著赫雅畢恭畢敬的態度，米羅的心裡也有底了，畢竟兩人心裡都有芥蒂，不戳破彼此，對誰都好。

在這段期間，兩人循規蹈矩，她做她侍女的本份，他做他戰士的職責，誰也不去逾越對方的界線。

直到某一天赫雅因為差事，回到宮裡晚了，當時米羅已經在天蠍宮，看到赫雅回宮，他說了一句「妳回來了。」這時，聽到這句話的赫雅淚水悄無聲息地流下。

她好像在遙遠的記憶曾經聽過這句話（其實是【幻夢情】裡米羅曾經對她說的，但她一直以為是教裡的教母與姐妹說的）

她想教母，她想教裡的姐妹，她想回��維斯塔教。

她不想在「仇人」面前示弱，努力藏住眼角那抹灼熱的淚水，卻怎麼也抑不住心口崩解潰堤，數十年深埋在心底的痛苦和委屈全部哭了出來。

米羅才知道這十多年來赫雅一直在過著什麼樣的生活。

平靜過後，赫雅才驚覺自己為什麼在這個人面前哭的這樣毫無自製，但或許是心裡得到了紓壓，也或許是自己的心結已經解開，從那之後，兩人的關係已經不似以往那樣冷淡。

之後，身為侍女的赫雅，拿到侍女以外的第一份任務，那就是──結婚。

當米羅面無表情的跟赫雅說這句話時，赫雅當場給他一個華麗的白眼外加一句「見鬼」就轉身走人，米羅對她解釋……

雖然赫雅不是隸屬于戰鬥人員，但此任務須要「夫妻同行」，聖域考慮到女性的聖鬥士不能脫面具，只好讓宮裡的侍女暫當妻子角色。

（這裡的故事是，維斯塔教其中一個貞女聯合美人魚泰蒂斯暗中招募士兵，為的就是報復聖域。因為此位貞女是朱利安父親的情婦，她讓朱利安的父親為她在愛琴海新開一條航運，打著新婚夫妻才能登船為由，在船上，借由美人魚歌聲技能，對有特定的人以歌聲覺醒他們→這段有借鏡《星座宮神話》與港漫《001》的橋段。

因為旅客都不是直接在船上消失，他們都是在回到家後的隔幾日就離開住所，不知去處，原本警方都以「離家出走」做結案，但後來大量比對這群人的行蹤下來，發現失蹤的人都曾經搭過梭羅家的船。

希臘政府不敢得罪梭羅家，只好求援聖域，而那時撒加早以接到關於梭羅家的消息，本來派出白銀聖鬥士，後來失敗，所以最後才派米羅，因為確實也是須要米羅的絕技……）

兩人任務成功回來後，米羅再次接過肅清仙女島的任務，這次是和雙魚座的阿���羅迪合作。

米羅離開聖域的這段期間，赫雅依舊照常天天整理宮務，或許有時會幫忙其他雜務，或許有時就坐在天蠍宮外──老實說，聖域侍女的工作是很輕鬆的──有時，她又會想，如果以後都過這生活自己會不會更開心。

米羅從仙女島回來後，遞給赫雅一朵紅色蓮花。

米羅說，這是赤蓮，是只有在仙女島（白天溫度高達五十度的酷暑灼熱，夜晚又會下降為零下數十度的冰冷嚴寒），那種溫度差異極大的極地才會長的花。

赫雅突然想到，赤蓮的花語是：燒盡過往，遺忘過去的意思。

她抬起頭，眼睛直瞪著米羅：「所以你要我忘記姐妹們的血淚，要我忘記我委屈的那段日子？」

「我並沒有那個意思……」看著赫雅那憤怒的神情，米羅頓時也來氣了，「反正這花如果不要，你就丟了；如果要，你就把放在離你表情最接近的地方，好歹這也可以讓你笑起來不會這麼慘澹。」丟了這麼一句話米羅就走人，赫雅當場氣的啞口無言。

離開後的米羅也後悔自己衝動的回答，畢竟他對這種事本來就不擅言詞，更何況他也的確也不知道赤蓮的花語含意，不過主要還是赫雅的內心創傷太大……

其實米羅已經對教皇的身份起疑，但他並沒有告訴赫雅，就算她知道了又如何，他們聖鬥士的職責，就只是聽令聖域的指令，對與錯……

──那麼有一天，當你們堅持的正義是錯的話，你們要怎麼辦？

他想起她當時問他的問題，他記得他並沒有回答這個問題。

「教皇的指令不會有任何錯誤，雅典娜的愛與正義是絕對的。」這是他對自己的自言自語。

晚上赫雅回到侍女們集中宿舍，看著桌上那朵赤蓮，再回想起早上米羅說過的話，愈想愈是生氣，她雙手捧起赤蓮，乾脆把花燒成一團灰扔還給他，小宇宙在手掌凝聚，手裡的赤蓮卻瞬間變成金色的。

赫雅眨了眨眼，再次定眼一看，確實是變成金色的了。

幾名剛從各宮回宿舍的侍女，看到赫雅手裡的金蓮，一度以為是處女宮那位大人的蓮花，處女宮侍女把花拿起來端祥，才解釋處女宮大人的蓮花雖說是金蓮，但是顏色屬於黃蓮，這花的顏色倒是比較像是黃金聖衣的顏色……說到這裡的時候，處女宮侍女頓了頓又說，據說黃金聖鬥士的鮮血再加上小宇宙的加成，東西會變成金色的……

聽她這麼解釋，赫雅才想到，米羅當時遞花給她的時候，他的袖口似乎有滲出鮮血……然後再加上自己那差點要把花燒成灰的小宇宙……

「……當時裝什麼帥啊，真是個傲慢的���人。」她笑了出來。

──後來她把蓮花別在右肩上。

接著青銅聖鬥士進攻聖域，揭起十三年前的真相，果然聖域早以易主，教皇不是史昂，一切的迫害，都是雙子座的撒加的邪惡意識在作祟。

此次戰役結束後，城戶沙織──也就是雅典娜重新掌回聖域。

這時赫雅請求雅典娜替她們維斯塔教平反──畢竟聖域才是整個希臘最主要的教廷，雅典娜同意，維斯塔教複教，蒙冤了十三年，總算獲得清白。

赫雅本來該成為維斯塔的教母，後來她堅持反對，她知道自己對米羅的感情已經無法遏制，身為維斯塔的教母須要從身到心完全的純潔，所以她無法再勝任教母一職，但在貞女們的簇擁下，她只好允諾先做代理教母，往後培育新的教母后再把權力下放。

在這段期間赫雅在維斯塔教與天蠍宮兩頭跑，雖累，但心裡踏實，她總算對的起教母跟教裡的姐妹。

緊接著聖域迎來一次比一次更堅辛的戰役──海皇降臨、冥王復蘇。

就在聖戰前夕，赫雅把前任教任教母的臂章交給維斯塔的貞女們，告誡如果自己無法回來，請她們挑選合適的教母再繼續為維斯塔教發揚光大。

過後不久，冥鬥士來犯，米羅鎮守天蠍宮，赫雅獨自前往教皇廳的路上，突然一個人影從夜空中降臨，他說他是赫爾墨斯，是個神使，有人想見她，請赫雅跟他去一趙奧林帕斯。

聽到這種奇怪的請求，赫雅自然不肯，她何時跟奧林帕斯有什麼關係了？

米羅感受到強大的小宇宙，以為是冥鬥士從其他地方潛了進來，立刻跑了過來，看到赫雅和一名黑衣人影，米羅遠遠地就對他打出猩紅毒針。

赫爾墨斯雖然躲過米羅的攻擊，但自己再怎麼脾氣好，好歹也是個神，被一個人類一上來就一記絕招對待，這對他是絕對的污辱。

他釋放自己小宇宙的力量，他說他不想讓雅典娜姐姐知道他下凡的事，也無意干預眾神之間的紛爭，所以這只是他一部份的小宇宙，如果他有意，他完全可以秒了米羅。

米羅體會到神的小宇宙，這確實比雅典娜有過而不及（畢竟當時雅典娜還不算完全覺醒）

冥鬥士已經入侵，能保護聖域跟雅典娜的聖鬥士已經愈來愈少，如果米羅這時又……赫雅告訴赫爾墨斯自己願意跟他去奧林帕斯。

「……米羅，」赫雅噙著眼淚看著米羅，勉強擠出一抹微笑，「祝你武運昌隆，據說這是東方人會對上戰場的戰士的一句祝福。」隨即，她跟赫爾墨斯前往奧林帕斯。

在前往奧林帕斯路上，赫雅問赫爾墨斯。

「……如果我剛剛沒打算跟你走的話，你真的會殺了米羅嗎？」

赫爾墨斯格格笑著，「那怎麼可能，我可不像冥王海皇他們老大人一樣，一言不和就打打殺殺。」

「那你剛才……！」

「我是神使，也是個神偷，撒謊可是我最善長的，如果你不想走，我頂多跟你母親說人我是帶不來這樣就好了。」

「……你說的我的母親到底是誰？」

「赫斯緹雅，爐灶女神。」

當兩人踏上奧林帕斯的土地上，赫雅突然感覺到一陣從心底裡傳來的紊亂，她以為這只是來到奧林帕斯而緊張的感覺。

跟著赫爾墨斯來到爐灶女神的神殿，赫雅抬起頭看，似乎這周邊的景象似曾相識，緊接著進入神殿，赫斯緹雅已經在大廳等著她了，赫雅走近她面前，向眼前這位神祇──這位她侍奉已久的神，單膝跪地以示尊敬。

「我是赫斯緹雅，爐灶女神，我的孩子，抬起頭來。」

赫雅唯唯諾諾地抬起頭，雖然眼前的神祇是自己侍奉的，但看到真身，感覺卻又不那麼真實──赫斯緹雅紅發白裙，沒有過多的飾品，簡約中帶著高貴的氣質，她的容貌秀麗絕倫，五官完美的如同工筆細繪一般，就像是從畫裡走出來一般。

「孩子？您的意思是因為我是您教的領導人，所以您才會稱呼我為『孩子』的嗎？」

赫斯緹雅起身，走近一個爐灶旁，坐了下來，她掬起被火燒燼的白色灰燼，「你是我在這裡製造出來的孩子。」

今世的赫雅的確是人類所生，但她兩世前，是赫斯緹雅在懷緬故人與感慨人類戰爭時而捏造出來的。

在遙遠的青銅時期，是一個被諸神拋棄的年代，當年赫斯緹雅在人間遊歷，曾經受過人類的幫助，回到奧林帕斯後，才得知她所待過的國家已經被滅，在感歎之餘下，用爐火燒燼的灰燼捏著小人，因為她並不知情裡面還殘餘著聖火的火苗，再加上想到了人類愚蠢的戰爭，她歎了口氣──以火為生，以氣為命，竟讓手裡的小人有了生命，因為當時宙斯早就下令眾神不能再製造人類，赫斯緹雅是聽從宙斯的話，畢竟宙斯是萬神之神，也是賦予她崇高地位與一切的神，她要把手裡小人捏碎的時候，小人動作比她更快一步，立刻逃逸消失在她眼前，因為當時小人已經有了靈魂，於是被赫爾墨斯帶去轉世（赫爾墨斯也是亡靈的接引神），赫雅的上一世就在東方的一個小島出生，無憂無慮過完一生後，再次轉世成了現世的赫雅。

聽完這些，赫雅已經完全記起她上一世的事：上一世的父母、上一世的家庭、上一世的生活、上一世思念的人……心底突然一股情緒翻湧上來，於是央求赫斯緹雅讓她回人間。

赫斯緹雅不肯，因為她想重新接納這孩子，就不許再和雅典娜牽扯，雖然她和雅典娜在神話時代就締結契約，但該是公正的「裁��」，人類口中的「聖戰」，不知道從何時起，已經成了諸神的「遊戲」。

她知道雅典娜與波賽頓和哈迪斯之間的戰爭是他們先挑起的，但在奧林帕斯甚囂塵上的消息卻又不是那麼一回事，如果她想讓這孩子在奧林帕斯上立足，她就得要拋棄一些自己原本堅持的理念。

赫爾墨斯在旁邊補充說兩軍已經打完，雅典娜軍這次依舊勝利，不過黃金聖鬥士全歿，而靈魂已經被眾神囚禁。

（因為有想過天上一天，人間一年的概念，所以當赫雅踏到奧林帕斯的土地時，眾黃金已經全數死亡，然後再跟赫斯緹雅談話這些時間，雅典娜已經贏了哈迪斯）

赫爾墨斯帶赫雅來奧林帕斯囚禁黃金聖鬥士的廣場。

雖然赫雅早就有心裡準備，但看到眾黃金被囚禁的身姿，還是無法忍受內心已經麻痹的生痛。

死前是永無止境的戰鬥，死後靈魂禁錮無法轉世。

或許已經哀莫大於心死，赫雅平靜地請求赫爾墨斯把她送到米羅的身旁。

她說，她在上一世的確是無憂無慮老死，但因為米羅曾經在夢裡跟她說一句「妳回來了」，就讓她思念他到死，而這一世卻也是無緣在一起……她已經整整愛他了兩世，最後，她又自嘲的說，很蠢對吧。

看著赫雅臉上勉強露出苦澀的笑容，赫爾墨斯只好勉為其難的答應。

「米羅……我回來了……」赫雅坐在米羅的肩上，親密的蹭著他已石化的頭髮，「我們好像每次見面都在吵架，我們以後不吵了好嗎……」

在這期間，赫斯緹雅多次來勸赫雅跟她回去，但一直被赫雅拒絕。

日夜交替，鬥轉星移，時間快速流逝，赫雅再次睜開眼，已經發現她的全身已經石化，只剩下左半部臉似乎還感受到微風的吹拂，但左眼也幾乎看不見，但她已經感覺到，自己體內的生命快要滅絕，他自己已經快要完全石化，看著眼前朦朧的人影，赫雅以為是赫爾墨斯，她已經拒絕赫斯緹雅女神多次了，她應該不會再來看自己了。

「赫爾墨斯是你嗎？請你轉告赫斯緹雅女神，謝謝她給我生命，讓我遇見我真心愛的人，她給我感覺就像我前世的母親跟教母一樣，或許是全世界的母親一樣，愛念愛擔心又深愛著孩子……然後也謝謝你帶我來奧林帕斯，如果我在人間，肯定又要跟前世一樣孤孤單單的死去……我不想再體會那種孤寂的餘生……所以，真的，謝謝你們……」

言畢，赫雅全身完全凝固變成一尊石像。

「赫斯緹雅姑姑，原來妳在這裡。」赫爾墨斯走了過來。

「……真是個癡兒……」赫斯緹雅用手指拭了淌下的淚水，「宙斯那邊怎樣說……」

「父神說他已經忘了這件事，反正也過了兩百年，要我把這裡��一清，這個廣場要做新的用途。」赫爾墨斯無可奈何地搖頭說著。

「是嗎……」赫斯緹雅輕輕地歎了口氣，「原來過了兩百年……所以他們的遊戲又要開始了嗎？」

「那麼這裡我讓人來……」

「我來吧。」赫斯緹雅兩掌交迭，掌心烈焰升騰，雙臂在空中劃過一道美麗的弧線，一揮，兩股熾熱的火焰，朝著石像撲了過去。

石像瞬間化為沙礫傾瀉而下，赫爾墨斯再用雙蛇杖往上一揚，沙礫隨風飄向遠處。

「每個人，都轉世去吧……下一世當個普通人就好……」

「對了，赫爾墨斯……」赫斯緹雅突然想起一件事，「你可以去冥界把生死簿偷來嗎？」

「當然可以……姑姑妳要做什麼！」說到偷，赫爾墨斯可來勁了。

「下一世我要讓那男人苦苦追我女兒才行！」赫斯緹雅神情下可隱見一絲溫柔，「我女兒都等了他兩世，下一世讓他辛苦點追到我女兒不為過吧。」

「啊！真好玩！請務必讓我參加。」赫爾墨斯淘氣地眨著眼睛，「話說我也要報點他差點戳到我的仇。」

赫斯緹雅先是一愣，繼而笑開了顏，「我這女婿這點倒是做的不錯，你這孩子這麼調皮，是該被戳幾下。」

──每個人，都轉世去吧……下一世當個普通人就好……

[latinlizard]

Pro Caelio 34

Jonas Suyderhoff, after Sir Peter Paul Rubens Fall of the Damned, 1642

non denique modo te Q. Metelli matrimonium tenuisse sciebas, Finally did you not know that you had just married Q. Metellus, clarissimi ac fortissimi viri patriaeque amantissimi, qui simul a most famous and most brave man and much loved by his homeland, who as soon as ac pedem limine extulerat, omnis prope civis virtute, gloria, he set foot out of the door, all other citizens in virtua, glory, dignitate superabat? Cum ex amplissimo genere in familiam and dignity he passed? Since you had married from a very largely 'known' family clarissimam nupsisses, cur tibi Caelius tam coniunctus fuit? into a very famous family, why was Caelius so precious to you? cognatus, adfinis, viri tui familiaris? Nihil eorum. Quid relative by blood, or marraige, perhaps a friend to your husband? He was none of these. So what igitur fuit nisi quaedam temeritas ac libido? Nonne te, si then was it if not some kind of recklessness or lust? Surely you, if nostrae imagines viriles non commovebant, ne progenies your images of ancestors do not move you, not even my descendant quidem mea, Q. illa Claudia, aemulam domesticae laudis of mine, Q. Claudia, a rival of domestic praise in gloria muliebri esse admonebat, non virgo illa Vestalis in glory you are reminded of this woman, nor the famous Vestal virgin Claudia quae patrem complexa triumphantem ab inimico Claudia, who when her father was taken from her embrace by an enemy tribuno plebei de curru detrahi passa non est? Cur te endured to be pulled from the chariot by the tribune of plebs? why, when your fraterna vitia potius quam bona paterna et avita et usque brothers vices, rather than the paternal and anecsteral virtues that again and again a nobis cum in viris tum etiam in feminis repetita moverunt? by our men with the women as well, move you? Ideone ego pacem Pyrrhi diremi ut tu amorum turpissi- Was it because I distrubed the peace of Phyruss so that you disgraced my love morum cotidie foedera ferires, ideo aquam adduxi ut ea tu making daily bargains with foul lovers, therefore I brought water for you inceste uterere, ideo viam munivi ut eam tu alienis viris so you may use it unchastely, was it for this that I built that street so that you may use it with strange men comitata celebrares?' to celebrate together?'

[helenadelacoeur]

Older Roman ladies

Books telling the history of ancient Rome often omit the stories of women. It is assumed that Romans themselves thought of their history as something that was predominently the arena of men, with women playing subordinate roles, as wives, daughters and mothers.

In the book 'On old age. Approaching Death in Antiquity and the Middle Ages', I found the following quote: "The Roman historical memory focussed on exemplary women, especially in descriptions of exceptional times. During the periods of crises older ladies used their unofficial power and prestige on their advanced age" (56).

The examples mentioned are Veturia, a Roman matron who organized an official meeting with her son together with many other Roman women, including her daughter-in-law Volumnia. She convinced her son, Coriolanus, to quit his fight against Rome: "Veturia's apperance in the story is not that of a miserable old woman bewailing her destiny, but a powerful figure demanding obedience. Consequently Coriolans withdrew his forces from the city" (49-50).

Another example is that of the Sabine women, who prevented war between their fahters and their Roman husbands (after they had been robbed by them years before). Their leader was an older lady, Hersilia. She, too, gave a speech in front of a general and stopped further bloodshed.

"Both the stories form an important part of the Roman legendary past, highlighitng the role of women in unifying the nation, strengthening the Roman identity, and empowering the Roman boundary" (52).

Another example is that of the Sabine women, who prevented war between their fahters and their Roman husbands (after they had been kidnapped years earlier, a story for a different time). Their leader was an older lady, Hersilia. She, too, gave a speech in front of a general and stopped further bloodshed.

"Both the stories form an important part of the Roman legendary past, highlighitng the role of women in unifying the nation, strengthening the Roman identity, and empowering the Roman boundary" (52).

Suddenly, aging doesn't seem that bad anymore. You can still save Rome, after all.

Katariina Mustakallio, "Representing Older Women: Hersilia, Veturia, Virgo Vestalis Maxima," On Old Age. Approaching Death in Antiquity and the Middle Ages, Christian Krötzl and Katariina Mustakallio (eds), Turnhout 2011.

[whencyclopedfr]

Vestale

Les vestales (latin: Virgo Vestalis) étaient les prêtresses de la déesse romaine du foyer, Vesta, dans la religion d'État de la Rome antique. À différentes époques, il y avait de quatre à six prêtresses en fonction. Elles étaient le seul clergé à plein temps (collegia) d'une divinité romaine, ce qui témoigne de la haute estime dont jouissait la déesse. Elles entretenaient le feu sacré dans le sanctuaire de Vesta dans le Forum romain et accomplissaient d'autres rites associés à la déesse, tels que l'entretien des objets sacrés dans le sanctuaire, la préparation de la nourriture rituelle et l'organisation d'événements publics pendant les Vestalia annuelles, les jours de fête de Vesta (7-15 juin). Elles préparaient aussi rituellement les herbes dont on aspergeait les sacrifices et fabriquaient le pain (pane) qui était offert les jours de fête, comme le 1er mars, qui était le nouvel an romain.

Lire la suite...

[coriandher]

wardrobe, compiled all that I could plus unposted doodles I found.

Even more details of her character under cut:

- she runs really fast. I used console commands to make her move faster and now that’s a canon thing for her.

- if she had GECK class it’ll be CombatPriestess.

- her tagged skills used to be speech, guns and medicine. Changed in second playthrough.

- ‘Camille’ could mean ‘temple attendant’ and while it fits ‘Vestalis’ that was a coincidence. She was named after the flower camellia.

- her siblings have flower based names as well. The family uses floriography to name their members.

- she’s born in Vault 73, an already open vault with eugenics and high expectations as its experiment. They call themselves Wreath and have close connections to the Slaver’s Guild.

- the vault experienced an uprising pre-game. Camille escaped to the Divide and shortly worked as a medic before becoming a courier.

- while she didn’t lose memory from the bullet, she did generally become more selfish and rude. If anything the memory recollection of her childhood is stronger. Until OWB, there’s migraines.

- if she wasn’t shot she’d join the Followers and settle down with Julie Farkas. But alas. Legion. 

- the very first thing I had in mind for her was her shoe. Inspired by my sister’s shoe that had ribbons as its laces.

- she always carries the Mark of Caesar with her. On her neck or hidden in a pouch with Legion coins.

- her main weapon is a Vietnamese đao, but she does use a 10mm SMG if bullets sprays are needed.

- the thought behind her design was simple, her namesake of the Vestal Virgins but also cheerleader-like for the Legion’s sports-based uniform.

- after her reputation’s Idolized, two Praetorians were assigned to her, Ovidius and Nerva. They continued accompanying her at the Legate’s Camp.

- she got the Legion variant Courier duster, but had it further altered to become a jacket.

- she received her white hair tie after her naming as ‘Virgo Vestalis’.

- ‘Virgo’ is her title, while ‘Vestalis’ is her name. Before, she was just called ‘Courier’ by the Legion.

- she is the first of her title, Caesar made it up for both propaganda reasons and so she wouldn’t be harassed. Vestalis also had to take a vow of chastity (she laughed first)

- Caesar publicly denounced her ‘Virgo’ title post-ending, in the middle of the streets of the Strip.

[quomododragon]

For our Latin final project we had to create a DND- style character and describe them in Latin. My character was a Virgo Vestalis named Junia Cinia who was protected by Vesta and giving her a resistance to fire. We even played a quick session with our characters!

As a teacher and a DM: this is amazing. What a cool idea.

[jaimeariansencespedes]

HISTORIA UNIVERSAL - LAS VESTALES -

Muerte de una Vestal. Sí, parece que sea el título de una novela de misterio de Aghata Christie, pero no, ya me gustaría, … En realidad, no se trata de ficción, al contrario, las vestales aunque disponían de muchas prebendas e incluso de poder e influencias, también se debían a una serie de deberes muy estrictos cuya falta les podía llevar a la muerte.

Pero, además, me he encontrado una anécdota que me ha sorprendido al leer el libro

“Los Asesinos del Emperador”

de S. Posteguillo sobre el reinado de Domiciano, el último emperador de la dinastía Flavia, quien fue asesinado y del que la historia no guarda muy buen recuerdo siendo incluso condenado a una

“Damnatio memoriae” (recordemos que incluso se baraja que pudiera ser el anticristo en el apocalipsis de San Juan). Este emperador fue capaz de condenar a una Máxima Sacerdotisa vestal basándose, al parecer, en calumnias y falsas acusaciones.  Este es el caso que nos ocupa, pero comencemos por el principio.

Muerte de una vestal. La Diosa Vesta

Desde la antigüedad más remota, incluso antes al propio origen de Roma (que según la leyenda fue fundada por Rómulo -Ab Urbe Condita– en el año 753 aC), ya se veneraba a Vesta. De hecho, en algunos mitos aparece intercediendo para evitar la ejecución de Rea Silvia, ya embarazada por el dios Marte de los gemelos Rómulo y Remo. Vesta, diosa del fuego del hogar y símbolo de la fidelidad, se correspondía con la diosa griega Hestia, y era hija de Saturno y de Ops y hermana de Júpiter.

Si bien, al principio su culto era de tipo privado, gradualmente se convirtió en la protectora de Roma y, según nos cuenta Plutarco, el culto fue establecido a nivel estatal por el rey Numa Pompilio en el S. VII aC. Éste perduró hasta el final del paganismo,  en el año 391 dC, cuando el Emperador Teodosio decretara por ley que todo culto y rituales paganos quedaban prohibidos. Tras este decreto el templo de Vesta fue clausurado  y la llama sagrada fue apagada.

La diosa era representada en la forma de una mujer de gran belleza que sostenía en una mano una antorcha y en la otra un cuenco votivo. Cortejada por Apolo y Neptuno, prefirió permanecer pura y virgen.

Muerte de una Vestal. Las Vestales

Sus sacerdotisas eran las virginales Vestales, cuya misión fundamental era mantener encendido el fuego sagrado en el altar del Templo de Vesta, símbolo de la seguridad y prosperidad de Roma. El fuego sólo se apagaba intencionadamente una vez al año, el último día de febrero, para ser renovado el primer día de marzo, que para los romanos era el comienzo del año. Para la supersticiosa sociedad romana, si la llama se apagaba en cualquier otro momento, esto era considerado como vaticinio de graves tragedias.Horacio decía que mientras el Pontifex Maximus subiera al capitolio  acompañado por la “vestal silenciosa”, Roma mantendría su gloria. Por ello, cada primero de marzo, con el comienzo del año, se renovaba la ceremonia.

Pero además tenían otras tareas, entre las que destacaban las de presenciar ceremonias religiosas, purificar la tierra del Templo cada mañana con el agua extraída de una fuente dedicada a la ninfa Egeria y cuidar de reliquias religiosas. Otra tarea exclusiva de ellas -y que ningún sacerdote masculino podía realizar- como veramos, era la de preparar durante las Vestalias la mola salsa que sería utilizada en los sacrificios públicos.

Las Vestales eran una excepción en el mundo sacerdotal romano, compuesto por hombres. El número de vestales fue variando, en un principio fueron dos, luego cuatro y posteriormente seis vírgenes, aunque parece que en algún momento pudieron llegar a ser siete.  La Vestal de mayor importancia era la Virgo Vestalis Maxima y su principal tarea era la de participar en el Colegio de Pontífices. Según Tácito, la Vestalis MaximaOccia presidió el Colegio de las vestales durante 57 años. La última Suma Vestal conocida fue Coelia Concordia en el 380.

Las sacerdotisas se seleccionaban siendo niñas y debían permanecer vírgenes durante los 30 añosobligatorios de permanencia al servicio de Vesta, tras este tiempo de completo celibato podían incluso casarse, aunque no solían hacerlo manteniendo de este modo sus privilegios. Cuando se producía una vacante eran elegidas directamente por el Pontifex Maximunde entre las 20 niñas, de 6 a 10 años, más perfectas de Roma. Es decir, que no podían tener ningún defecto físico o mental, debían ser hermosas y pertenecer a familias patricias, si bien esta condición se suavizó con el tiempo incluyendo otras familias de merecido rango social. Tras su elección, el Pontifex realizaba una ceremonia en el Templo de Vesta, pronunciaba las palabras: “Yo te tomo a ti, amada, para que seas una sacerdotisa de Vesta …”,  luego le eran cortados los cabellos y era suspendida de un árbol a fin de dejar claro que ya no dependía de su familia, finalmente se le ponía un velo en la cabeza y se le entregaba una lámpara encendida. Tras ello el Pontifex la cogía de la mano y era llevaba al Atrium Vestae, la casa de las Vestales, situada en el Foro tras el Templo de Vesta.

Entre el 7 y 15 de junio se celebraban estos festejos en honor de Vesta. Era una de las festividades más esperadas y populares de Roma. El primer día de la fiesta se abría, por única vez durante el año, el penus Vestae (el sancta santorum del templo). Era la única ocasión durante el año en que otras personas, a parte de las Vestales, podían ingresar en el templo a Vesta.  Si bien, solo lo podían hacer las mujeres Romanas que fueran madres, ya que Vesta era la diosa de la familia y la pureza, y la condición de madre era fundamental para ingresar al templo.

Las Vestales preparaban la “Mola Salsa”, una harina salada utilizada como ofrenda en varias festividades sagradas, y con ella se hacía una especie de torta no comestible de significado religioso. Diferentes estatuas de la diosa eran transportadas por las calles principales en distintas procesiones públicas en donde las matronas romanas seguían descalzas a las Vestales y cantaban alabanzas. Como anécdota: durante esos días se coronaba a un asno (representación del que despertó a la diosa antes de ser violada) con flores y se le eximía del trabajo.

Muerte de una Vestal. Privilegios de las Vestales

Las Vírgenes Vestales gozaban de gran prestigio en la sociedad. Eran respetadas y adoradas por todos los ciudadanos Romanos, incluso los magistrados les cedían el paso. Entre los privilegios con los que contaban se encontraba el de ser escoltadas por los lictores cuando andaban por las calles; viajaban en un carpentum, una carro de dos ruedas cubierto. Además tenían los mejores lugares, en primera fila, en los juegos y obras teatrales. Y muy frecuentemente eran invitadas a suntuosos banquetes ofrecidos por los ciudadanos más ricos y poderosos de Roma.

Las vestales además no estaban sujetas a la Patria Potestad, esto es, eran las únicas mujeres en Roma que disponían de un status similar al de los hombres romanos y podían testar aún viviendo sus padres, y disponer de sus bienes y herencia sin necesidad de tutor. Además, su veredicto era decisivo para decidir sobre la suerte de un gladiador. Eran tan veneradas, que su sola presencia por el camino de un condenado a muerte rumbo el verdugo era suficiente para que se le absolviera y se le perdonara la vida. Por último, eran las custodias de objetos sagrados valiosos como el Palladium (una veneradísima estatua de madera de la diosa Palas Atenea, la Minerva de los romanos, que se decía que había sido traída desde Troya por el héroe Eneas, quien dio origen mítico a la estirpe de los romanos), o de los testamentos de personas tan importantes como César y Marco Antonio. Todos estos privilegios hacían que, una vez pasado el tiempo obligado de sacerdocio, decidieran seguir en la orden por no renunciar a ellos.

Muerte de una Vestal. Castigos a una Vestal

Pero, si una vestal incumplía su obligación o infligía sus votos, el castigo era durisimo. Como hemos visto, la tarea más importante de una Virgen Vestal era el mantenimiento y cuidado de la Llama Sagrada. Esta llama era cuidada por turnos y su pérdida era castigada incluso con la vida, aunque normalmente la vestal de guarda era azotada. Sin embargo, durante más de mil años muy pocas veces la llama se apagó. Si la llama por alguna razón se apagaba, el Senado se reunía de urgencia para aclarar las causas y una ves deliberado, el templo era expiado y, según se cree, la llama era reavivada utilizando luz solar.

Autor: Eva Alberola para Revista Hitoria. jaimeariansen@outlook.com

[mykuup]

𝘝𝘐𝘙𝘎𝘖 𝘝𝘌𝘚𝘛Λ𝘓𝘐𝘚 (Virgin Vestal)

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Summary : As their way of ruling Rome is erratic, Julia the empress wants her sons to learn how Rome is strong and powerful.

But Caracalla's mental health is going down, so she decides to send Geta to the Atrium Vestae (the house of the Vestals). That way, he will learn the important lessons of Rome's sacred hearth and fire.

Amongs all the Vestals, you have been choosen to show the emperor how tales and traditions have to be cheriched and followed si he can become the greatest emperor of Rome.

wc : 4,5k

Warnings : No spoiler from the movie // angst // mention of religion and faith // forbidden love // soft!Geta  // afab reader (but no description)

A/n : I like a bit of angst so this time no spice for our emperor and reader. If you enjoy my work, please consider interacting (I'll love you even more and it will make me happy 🤭💜)

Taglist : @byronking @stardancerluv @preparedfruit @userchai @helsa3942 @analves @justnobodynothingmore @silentwhisper666 @deliciousfestsalad @25bohemianmoons @saphirmoraitie @claudialioncourtdulac @phobobobophobia @koshkahhh @noblenighttime @moon-390

‘You can’t do that to me, I am the Emperor! You can’t command me!’ Geta screamed at his mother, throwing away his gold chalice, and splattering sweet wine all over the wall. Julia looked at him, not even surprised by his harsh tone but her impatience boiling inside.

‘Of course I can, I am your mother!’ She was yelling now to match her son’s mood and Geta was taken aback. He never heard her scream at him before, or—at least—he doesn’t remember it. He looked at her with wide eyes as she continued. ‘The citizens don’t respect you and your brother. So how do you think it will end?’ She arched a brow at him, knowing her son didn’t have a clue. ‘If you don’t care about Rome and its History, you don’t deserve power.’

Geta gulped at his mom’s words, wounded in his ego but she didn’t even let him speak. ‘The Gods aren’t here to clean up your mess. How can you pretend to rule and protect our great city if you don’t even know what makes its heart beat?’

‘I… I don’t know.’ Geta mumbles, ashamed his mother was right. But traditions and usages were so boring to him. He remembers reading a few things about it when he was younger but nothing was more interesting than his father’s battle tales and conquests.

‘That’s what I thought,’ Julia said, jaded by her son’s childish behavior. ‘Tomorrow you will go to the Atrium Vestae and spend as much time as needed to learn every tale and tradition.’ The empress walked close to her son to cup his face. ‘Picture the crowd chanting your name as the greatest emperor Rome has ever known. You will care for them, protecting them and they will love you for bringing them beyond the Gods’ expectations.’

Geta’s eyes widened as he was already hearing his name echoing in the coliseum. It was a delightful idea, even better as his brother wasn’t in the picture anymore.

The next morning, a servant woke Geta up and helped him dress up in a very simple toga before a centurion escorted him to the Atrium. Julia insisted on making his son walk the streets so he could already think about his future life decisions. Geta was already annoyed as he was gleaming with sweat, the Mediterranean sun warming his milky skin.

An old vestal was waiting for him at the entry so the centurion bowed and turned around to leave the emperor facing his fate. But Geta was stunned as the woman didn’t even greet him before entering the temple. He was used to seeing people bowing before him or greeting him with high solemnity as he was the most powerful person in Rome.

Geta’s sandals echoed against the smooth marble floors as he followed the old lady into the temple. The air smelled of incense and warm candlewax, a sharp contrast to the vibrant chaos of the Roman Forum just beyond its walls. Sunlight filtered through the atrium’s glass roof, casting shifting patterns across the sacred fire at its center—a flame that had burned uninterrupted for centuries, tended by the generation of vestals.

The old vestal, with her expression stern and indifferent to Geta’s status, gestured toward a shaded alcove. ‘You will wait here,’ she said curtly, her voice weathered by age. Without another word, she turned and disappeared into the labyrinth of corridors. Geta scowled, his temper simmering beneath the surface as she just gave him an order. He had already endured the sun’s heat, the disdain of common citizens who failed to bow as he walked by, and now this—a servant of the Gods dismissing him like a child.

As he leaned against a polished column, a soft rustling drew his attention. You emerge from one of the shadowed halls wearing pristine white robes. Your hair was bounded thighly beneath your veil, tied with a red ribbon. Your eyes held a quiet intensity that seemed to pierce through him and Geta shivered.

‘You must be the emperor,’ you said, your tone neither reverent nor dismissive, merely matter-of-fact. Geta straightened, momentarily at loss of words. You were unlike anyone he had encountered—serene yet commanding, your beauty striking in its simplicity.

‘I am’, he replied, attempting to regain his composure. ‘And you are?’ You gave him your name, dipping your head slightly. ‘I will be your instructor during your time here.’

‘An instructor?’ Geta’s lips curled in faint amusement. ‘You think I need lessons?’ But your expression didn’t waver as you were expecting him to act this way. ‘Your mother thinks so,’ you respond. ‘And from what I’ve heard, she’s rarely wrong.’

The jab stung more than Geta expected, but he masked his irritation with a forced smirk. ‘Very well, teach me anything you want. What wisdom do you have to offer?’

‘Take that off,’ you asked, staring at him. Geta’s brow furrows, not understanding what you are referring to. When you nod at his head with a smile, he stands out firm on his feet. ‘No,’ he said dryly. ‘Absolutely not.’

‘Why? What are you afraid of, Geta?’ his name stumbling upon your lips sends shivers down his spine. He wasn't used to being called by his name by people outside his family. You continue. ‘Let the crown here. You need to be a man first to become an emperor.’ You should have lost patience, but all Geta could see was you, genuinely waiting for him to proceed. He slowly took off the crown of gold leaves from his head with a smirk and put it on the little table near you. ‘I’m already a man you know that?’

You smile at his arrogant tone and approach the sacred flame without minding his last statement. ‘Do you know why this fire is so important? You asked, gesturing to the flickering light.

‘It represents Vesta,’ Geta said dismissively. ‘The goddess of the hearth, home, and family. Every Roman knows that.’

‘Every Roman claims to know,’ you corrected, your gaze fixed on the flame. ‘But few understand. This fire is more than a symbol—it’s Rome’s soul. As long as it burns, our city thrives. Should it ever be extinguished…’ you trailed off, your voice heavy with unspoken consequences.

The young emperor frowned, drawn in despite himself. ‘What happens if it goes out?’ You turned to face him, your eyes locking onto his with a gravity that made his chest tighten. ‘Rome will fall.’

Geta’s footsteps broke the silence as he walked closer to you, his arms crossed over his chest, feigning indifference. ‘Rome will fall if this flame dies?’ he echoed skeptically. ‘That sounds like a myth to frighten children.’

You scoff, a flicker of amusement breaking through your composed exterior. ‘And yet, the most powerful man in the world stands here, commanded by his mother to learn its importance.’ The barb struck its mark and Geta felt his pride bristle.

‘You speak boldly for someone in your position,’ he retorted, though his voice lacked the edge he intended.

‘I speak the truth,’ you replied evenly. Your gaze swept over him, not in admiration but with the discerning eye of someone evaluating his worth. ‘Your power, emperor, is borrowed. Rome’s strength comes from its people, its traditions, and its Gods. If you fail to honor them, your rule will crumble, no matter how many armies you command.’

Geta opened his mouth to fire back, but no words came. Instead, he found himself captivated by your presence—how your eyes caught the light, how your voice carried with authority without needing to raise in volume. You were unlike the people from the court and flatterers who surrounded him daily.

‘You really believe all this,’ he said, quieter now. ‘I don’t have the luxury of belief,’ you answered, returning your attention to the flame. ‘I know it. And by the time you leave here, you will too.’

For the first time, Geta felt the weight of the temple’s solemnity pressing against him. The air seemed heavier, charged with an energy he couldn’t explain. He followed you as you moved to a stone bench near the fire, gesturing for him to sit beside you.

‘Every emperor who has ruled Rome was shaped by the traditions you find so dull,’ you said, your tone softening slightly. ‘Even your father understood that. Do you think his victories on the battlefield mattered if the city he fought for was in chaos?’

Geta frowned, your words struck a chord. ‘He never spoke of the flame or these…rituals. He only told us about glory and conquest.’

‘Glory fades,’ you said, your voice tinged with something close to sorrow. ‘But Rome endures. And so will your name if you choose to protect its heart.’

Your words hung in the air like the faint embers drifting from the sacred fire. Geta found himself leaning forward, drawn in despite his initial resistance. The conviction in your voice, the grace in your movements—it was as though you carried the essence of Rome within you.

As a few days passed, Geta’s defiance began to dim. Each morning, you would guide him through the temple, recounting tales of Rome’s founding, of kings and heroes who had shaped its destiny. At first, he listened only out of obligation, but soon he began to drink in your words like a man parched.

One afternoon, as you both stood near the fire, you handed Geta a small, intricately carved urn. ‘Do you know what this is?’ you asked.

The young emperor took it and turned it over in his hands, the cool ceramic smooth beneath his fingers. ‘An offering?’

‘It holds the ashes of the last sacred fire extinguished by invaders centuries ago,’ you said, your tone somber. ‘Vestals riled their lives to reignite it. Without their courage, Rome might not have survived.’

Geta looked at you, startled by the emotions in your voice. For a moment, he saw not just a vestal but a woman carrying the weight of history on your shoulders. ‘Why do you care so much?’ he asked.

You hesitated, your serene mask slipping just enough to reveal a flicker of vulnerability. ‘Because someone has to.’

Your eyes locked, the space between the emperor and you charged with an unspoken tension. Geta felt his breath hitch, and his pulse quickened. He wanted to say something—anything—, but the words were caught in his throat.

‘You don’t care about Rome yet,’ you finally said, breaking the moment. ‘But you will. And when you do, you’ll understand why this fire must never die.’

Geta watched as you turned and walked away, the soft rustle of your robes fading into the temple’s quiet halls. He clenched his fists, frustration and something deeper bubbling within him. For the first time in his life, Geta found himself wanting to be more than an emperor. He wanted to be worthy of your respect.

After the first week with the young emperor, you decided to let him take a few days off. Games were planned for the General’s returns and Geta had to be there. Also, you knew how much he loved to watch the games even if it meant to sit beside his crazy brother.

When the games were over, you led Geta to a secluded garden within the Atrium. The air was fragrant with lavender and rosemary, a stark contrast to the sharp, formal scent of incense inside the temple. A small, ancient fountain trickled in the center, its gentle sound blending with the rustle of leaves.

‘Today, you will learn the story of the vestal Tarpeia’, you said, gesturing for Geta to sit on the edge of the fountain.

‘Tarpeia?’ Geta scoffed, crossing his arms on his chest. ‘The traitress?’

‘Indeed. But she’s also a warning lesson,’ you folded your hands neatly on your thighs. ‘She thought she could exchange loyalty for wealth, that her desires were more important than Rome. But it resulted she was crushed beneath the shields of those she betrayed.’

Geta leaned back, his brows furrowing. ‘And what am I meant to learn from that? Not to betray Rome?’

‘That Rome is more important than your desires, even if they’re strong,’ you answer, your voice firm. Your words struck a nerve and the young emperor rose abruptly, pacing near the fountain. ‘You speak to me as though I’m some selfish child. Do you think I don’t care about the city?’

You stepped closer, your calm demeanor unshaken. ‘I think you care more about glory than sacrifice. But Rome demands a sacrifice.’ Geta whirled to face you, his cheeks flushed with frustration. ‘You know nothing of what it means to lead! You just sit there, protected, revered, while I—’

‘While you what?’ you interrupted, your voice rising for the first time. Geta was bewildered, your eyes burning with a rare intensity that silenced him. ‘While you command your armies from your palace? While you dine on feasts and drink from a golden goblet while some of us can’t even afford an apple? I’ve dedicated my life to something greater than myself, something you still don’t understand.’

The tension crackled between the two of you like a storm ready to unleash. Geta’s chest heaved as he searched for a response, but your words had pierced through his defenses. For the first time, he felt exposed—vulnerable in a way he didn’t understand.

Your gaze softened seeing the turmoil in his deep brown eyes. You took a step back to regain your composure and spoke quietly. ‘We will continue tomorrow. For now, reflect on what I’ve said.’

Time passed by and a change began to root in Geta. The young emperor started to wake up earlier, no longer needing a servant. He would proudly walk to the temple greeting people on his way. He even smiled at the old vestal while taking off his golden crown and putting it on the same little wooden table. He listened to your lessons with genuine interest, asking questions about the story you told. He even began to help with small tasks around the temple without anyone asking.

At first, you watch these changes with skepticism. You wondered if his efforts were merely to impress you, a plan to gain your approval. But as you were watching him closely, you realized they were genuine. His arrogance has softened and was replaced by a quiet determination that surprised you.

One morning you found him kneeling before the sacred fire, his head bowed in silent contemplation. The sight caught you off-guard as he looked almost humble, the lines of his face relaxed, and his usually restless energy subdued.

‘Am I interrupting?’ you softly ask. Geta looked up, a faint smile on his lips. ‘No. I was just… thinking.’ You approached, lacing your fingers together. ‘About what if I may ask?’

‘About what you said the other day,’ he admitted, his voice quieter than you’ve ever heard. ‘About sacrifice. And about what it means to be more than just a ruler.’

You studied him, your wondering melting into a soft smile. ‘And what have you decided?’ you asked, genuinely curious to know what was happening in the young emperor’s mind.

‘That maybe I’ve been wrong,’ he said, now standing to face you. ‘Maybe glory isn't what makes an emperor great. Maybe it’s… something else. Something more complicated.’ Your heart quickened at his words. You would have never expected to see him change so profoundly, and yet here he was, vulnerable and earnest.

Later that day, as Geta was away at the temple’s library, you sat near the sacred fire and found yourself thinking about him in a way you hadn’t before. He was still impulsive, still prone to flashes of arrogance, but there was something new beneath the surface—a depth you hadn’t seen when he first arrived. You hated to admit it but you admired him. For all his flaws, he had embraced the lessons you taught him, reshaping himself into a leader who could truly honor Rome and its eternal flame and glory.

But that admiration was frightening you. You were a vesta bounded by your vows to remain pure of the world outside the temple. Geta was a born-ruler, destined for power. Yet, you couldn’t fight what was sprouting in your heart.

You shake your head to push your thoughts away and try to focus on the sacred flame before you. But you knew deep down that you had to be careful to not walk away from the path you had chosen.

As the sun was low in the sky, Geta sought you out in the garden. The last rays of light bathed the space in a golden glow, casting soft shadows across your face as you tended near the flowers.

‘I wanted to thank you,’ Geta’s low voice breaking the silence around you. You glanced at him, raising an eyebrow. His eyes were a light shade of brown as he was facing the sunset.

‘For making me see things differently,’ he answered, stepping closer to you. ‘For showing me what it means to care for something greater than myself.’

You felt your breath caught in your throat as he closed the distance between the two of you. His gaze was steady, and for a moment, the world around you and the atrium seemed to fade away. 

‘You’re changing, Geta,’ you spoke softly. ‘But you must remember that Rome is what matters. Not something else.’  You saw in the corner of your eyes the shining gold of his many rings as his hand rose to reach your face. ‘What if it’s someone else?’ His jaw tightened and he took his hand away, not wanting to cross any boundary yet. ‘What if I say that you matter to me?

Your heart raced but you forced yourself to stay calm. ‘Then I’d say you still have a lot to learn about sacrifice.’ Your voice was colder than you intended but it was for the best. His eyes met yours, the tension between you two thick enough to be cut. Finally, you took a step back, breaking the moment. ‘Goodnight, emperor.’

You walked away without looking back, letting Geta stand alone in the little garden, the weight of your words heavy on his shoulders.

During the following days, your session became more formal. You tried to convince yourself that it was for the best, that the distance would restore his focus on Rome. But later when the night came and as you knelt before the sacred flame, you couldn’t stop your thoughts from drifting to him. You remembered the way he looked at you, the raw vulnerability in his eyes. You have seen many powerful men in your life, but none have ever been so honest with you.

Meanwhile, when he was returning to the palace, Geta threw himself into your lessons with a unique fervor, surprising his mother. He was missing dinner sometimes to memorize every word you had said to him and he also started to give offerings to the temple. But beneath his determination and dedication, a storm brewed in his chest.

One evening, after he finished his tasks, Geta found you alone in the garden, kneeling by the fountain. Your expression was unreadable as you looked serene yet worried.

‘Why do you avoid me?’ he asked, his voice cutting through the silence. You stiffened but didn't turn to look at him. ‘I’m not avoiding you, emperor. I’m fulfilling my duties.’

‘Don’t lie to me,’ he said, stepping closer. ‘You’ve been distant ever since that day in the temple. Is it because of what I said?’

You rose slowly to face him and you were surprised by the look on his face. You could see he was worried, yet his ego and pride were also showing. You knew he wanted to hide any weakness. ‘It’s because I have a duty to Rome. And so do you. Whatever you feel, whatever I feel, it doesn’t matter.’

Geta’s eyes searched yours, his frustration giving way to something softer. He heard your last sentence. He heard you were feeling something too. ‘But it does matter. It matters to me!’

Your breath hitched but you held your ground. ‘You are the emperor. You will rule Rome. And I…I will remain here, guarding its heart. That is the way it must be.’ You tried your best to remain calm and composed but he was insisting and your patience started to run thin.

Geta shook his head, his voice breaking. ‘I don’t want to rule a Rome in which you are just a memory. I don’t want to be great if it means losing you.’ He tried to reach for you but you stepped back. ‘Then you don’t deserve to rule.’ Your voice is harsh and cold. ‘Because Rome must come first. Remember Tarpeia.’ You walked away, not allowing him time to process what you just said. It was a dangerous path and you couldn’t let feelings get in your way. You made a vow, you had a mission. And no man could take you away from that, even an emperor.

You didn’t find sleep that night, your thoughts and feelings storming inside your head. So to try to calm that storm, you decided to ask for advice. You walked to the sacred fire and kneeled before the huge statue off Vesta. With your hand joined and your eyes closed, you tried your best to communicate what you were feeling to the Goddess so she could help you. You waited for a sign from her in the complete silence of the sleeping temple. A soft breeze blew around the flame, making it flicker and you made your decision. After you sent your message to the palace, you decided to stay with Vesta, her presence protecting you and the warmth of the flame reassuring. You stayed like this for a long time and you only realised the sun was rising when you heard footsteps behind you. 

Geta was tired when he woke up that morning. His sleep was troubled with memories of your face and words. But he was determined. He would have you, whatever it would take. No matter how much time it would need, Geta will have you by his side.

As he walked around his quarters to get dressed, he noticed a little folded piece of papyrus lying on his table. His heart shattered when he read it and he refused to follow what was written. He dressed up, left his room, and took a horse this time to reach the atrium faster. When he finally entered the temple, Geta found you lying at Vesta’s feet, breathing heavily. 

‘You’re sending me away,’ he said, his voice soft but heavy. It wasn’t a question. You were startled as you didn’t hear him coming. You didn’t turn around to face him but you nodded. ‘It’s time. You’ve learned everything you needed.’ But your voice betrayed you and Geta noticed.

‘You think I don’t know what it is?’ his voice crackling slightly. ‘You’re not sending me away because I’ve learned enough. You’re sending me away because you’re afraid.’

‘There’s no reason to prolong your stay,’ you responded, your tone distant. ‘You’ve grown into the leader Rome needs. It’s time for you to return to the palace.’ 

Geta stayed behind you, his confusion giving way to anger. ‘You don’t get to decide that!’ he snapped. ‘You can’t just send me away like I’m some child who’s finished his lessons!’

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. You were tired, your eyes burning with the lack of sleep and the tears threatening to fall. ‘You have a city to rule, Geta. A destiny to fulfill so don’t—’

‘Don’t what?’ he interrupted, his footsteps echoing as he stepped closer to you. ‘Don’t tell the truth? Don’t admit what we both feel? What about you?’ Geta joined you and grabbed your arm so he could finally see your face. ‘What am I to you? Am I just another duty? Another task to be completed?’

You flinched at his words, turning your face away to avoid his intense gaze. ‘Don’t make this harder than it already is,’ you whispered. 

‘HARDER?’ Geta shouted, his voice echoing in the temple, the sacred flame quivering. ‘You think this is hard for you? Then tell me why you’re doing this! Tell me why you’re pushing me away when you know—’

‘Because it’s the only way!’ you interrupted, your voice breaking as you looked directly at him. ‘Because what we feel—what I feel—doesn’t matter. I made a vow, Geta. My life belongs to Vesta, not to you.’

Your confession hit him like a blow, the raw emotion in your voice leaving him breathless. He let go of your arm, his touch still lingering as his anger dissolved into desperation.

‘I love you,’ he whispered, his voice trembling. ‘I love you and I know you love me too. Don’t deny it.’

Tears filled your eyes, and for a moment, your mask crumbled. But you couldn’t say what you were truly feeling. ‘That doesn’t change anything,’ you respond, your voice weak. 

‘It changes everything!’ he exclaimed, his hands reaching for your face. ‘Come with me, I’ll protect you, I’ll honor you I—’

‘No,’ you said, pulling away from his touch. A single tear fell from the corner of your eye but your voice grew firmer. ‘You’re an emperor, Geta. You belong to Rome, and I belong to the Goddess. That’s the truth neither of us can escape.’

Geta’s chest heaved, his emotions threatening to drown him. His eyes were searching for yours and memorizing every detail of your face. Your cheeks were pink, your lips plush and full and Geta wanted to taste them. He wanted to show you how much he needed you. You sigh, looking down at your feet.

‘There is no way,’ you said softly. ‘You have to leave.’ It was difficult for you to push him away as you never felt something this powerful before. The young emperor looked at you one last time before pacing back, despair in his deep brown eyes. Before you could second-guess your mind, you threw yourself over Geta and crashed your lips on his. It was fierce, passionate, and a collision of love and longing that neither of you could contain. He wrapped his arms around you tightly, keeping you close as though he could anchor you to him.

The taste of your tears mingled with his as your kiss deepened, every unspoken word and forbidden desire pouring into the moment. The world and the temple around you both seemed to blur, leaving you both in the embrace of each other. When you finally pulled away, Geta’s forehead rested against yours, showing you how hard it was for him to let you go.

‘You’ll be a great emperor,’ you murmured, your voice trembling. ‘I know you will.’ You cupped his face one more time, your thumb tracing his lips. ‘Goodbye, Geta.’ You stepped back from his embrace and walked away into the labyrinth of corridors, your robe disappearing in the shadows.

Geta stood frozen, your taste and fragrance still lingering on his skin as he watched the void where you disappeared. When he left the atrium vestae, he carried himself like the emperor you teached him to be. He was calm and determined to bring glory to his people. But deep within his heart, the fire you had lit in him would never fade. It would burn for the rest of his life like the immortal sacred fire of Vesta.

[whencyclopedfr]

Vestale

Les vestales (latin: Virgo Vestalis) étaient les prêtresses de la déesse romaine du foyer, Vesta, dans la religion d'État de la Rome antique. À différentes époques, il y avait de quatre à six prêtresses en fonction. Elles étaient le seul clergé à plein temps (collegia) d'une divinité romaine, ce qui témoigne de la haute estime dont jouissait la déesse. Elles entretenaient le feu sacré dans le sanctuaire de Vesta dans le Forum romain et accomplissaient d'autres rites associés à la déesse, tels que l'entretien des objets sacrés dans le sanctuaire, la préparation de la nourriture rituelle et l'organisation d'événements publics pendant les Vestalia annuelles, les jours de fête de Vesta (7-15 juin). Elles préparaient aussi rituellement les herbes dont on aspergeait les sacrifices et fabriquaient le pain (pane) qui était offert les jours de fête, comme le 1er mars, qui était le nouvel an romain.

Lire la suite...

[whencyclopedfr]

Vestale

Les vestales (latin: Virgo Vestalis) étaient les prêtresses de la déesse romaine du foyer, Vesta, dans la religion d'État de la Rome antique. À différentes époques, il y avait de quatre à six prêtresses en fonction. Elles étaient le seul clergé à plein temps (collegia) d'une divinité romaine, ce qui témoigne de la haute estime dont jouissait la déesse. Elles entretenaient le feu sacré dans le sanctuaire de Vesta dans le Forum romain et accomplissaient d'autres rites associés à la déesse, tels que l'entretien des objets sacrés dans le sanctuaire, la préparation de la nourriture rituelle et l'organisation d'événements publics pendant les Vestalia annuelles, les jours de fête de Vesta (7-15 juin). Elles préparaient aussi rituellement les herbes dont on aspergeait les sacrifices et fabriquaient le pain (pane) qui était offert les jours de fête, comme le 1er mars, qui était le nouvel an romain.

Lire la suite...

[whencyclopedfr]

Vestale

Les vestales (latin: Virgo Vestalis) étaient les prêtresses de la déesse romaine du foyer, Vesta, dans la religion d'État de la Rome antique. À différentes époques, il y avait de quatre à six prêtresses en fonction. Elles étaient le seul clergé à plein temps (collegia) d'une divinité romaine, ce qui témoigne de la haute estime dont jouissait la déesse. Elles entretenaient le feu sacré dans le sanctuaire de Vesta dans le Forum romain et accomplissaient d'autres rites associés à la déesse, tels que l'entretien des objets sacrés dans le sanctuaire, la préparation de la nourriture rituelle et l'organisation d'événements publics pendant les Vestalia annuelles, les jours de fête de Vesta (7-15 juin). Elles préparaient aussi rituellement les herbes dont on aspergeait les sacrifices et fabriquaient le pain (pane) qui était offert les jours de fête, comme le 1er mars, qui était le nouvel an romain.

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[whencyclopedfr]

Vestale

Les vestales (latin: Virgo Vestalis) étaient les prêtresses de la déesse romaine du foyer, Vesta, dans la religion d'État de la Rome antique. À différentes époques, il y avait de quatre à six prêtresses en fonction. Elles étaient le seul clergé à plein temps (collegia) d'une divinité romaine, ce qui témoigne de la haute estime dont jouissait la déesse. Elles entretenaient le feu sacré dans le sanctuaire de Vesta dans le Forum romain et accomplissaient d'autres rites associés à la déesse, tels que l'entretien des objets sacrés dans le sanctuaire, la préparation de la nourriture rituelle et l'organisation d'événements publics pendant les Vestalia annuelles, les jours de fête de Vesta (7-15 juin). Elles préparaient aussi rituellement les herbes dont on aspergeait les sacrifices et fabriquaient le pain (pane) qui était offert les jours de fête, comme le 1er mars, qui était le nouvel an romain.

Lire la suite...

[whencyclopedfr]

Vestale

Les vestales (latin: Virgo Vestalis) étaient les prêtresses de la déesse romaine du foyer, Vesta, dans la religion d'État de la Rome antique. À différentes époques, il y avait de quatre à six prêtresses en fonction. Elles étaient le seul clergé à plein temps (collegia) d'une divinité romaine, ce qui témoigne de la haute estime dont jouissait la déesse. Elles entretenaient le feu sacré dans le sanctuaire de Vesta dans le Forum romain et accomplissaient d'autres rites associés à la déesse, tels que l'entretien des objets sacrés dans le sanctuaire, la préparation de la nourriture rituelle et l'organisation d'événements publics pendant les Vestalia annuelles, les jours de fête de Vesta (7-15 juin). Elles préparaient aussi rituellement les herbes dont on aspergeait les sacrifices et fabriquaient le pain (pane) qui était offert les jours de fête, comme le 1er mars, qui était le nouvel an romain.

Lire la suite...

[whencyclopedfr]

Vestale

Les vestales (latin: Virgo Vestalis) étaient les prêtresses de la déesse romaine du foyer, Vesta, dans la religion d'État de la Rome antique. À différentes époques, il y avait de quatre à six prêtresses en fonction. Elles étaient le seul clergé à plein temps (collegia) d'une divinité romaine, ce qui témoigne de la haute estime dont jouissait la déesse. Elles entretenaient le feu sacré dans le sanctuaire de Vesta dans le Forum romain et accomplissaient d'autres rites associés à la déesse, tels que l'entretien des objets sacrés dans le sanctuaire, la préparation de la nourriture rituelle et l'organisation d'événements publics pendant les Vestalia annuelles, les jours de fête de Vesta (7-15 juin). Elles préparaient aussi rituellement les herbes dont on aspergeait les sacrifices et fabriquaient le pain (pane) qui était offert les jours de fête, comme le 1er mars, qui était le nouvel an romain.

Lire la suite...

[whencyclopedfr]

Vestale

Les vestales (latin: Virgo Vestalis) étaient les prêtresses de la déesse romaine du foyer, Vesta, dans la religion d'État de la Rome antique. À différentes époques, il y avait de quatre à six prêtresses en fonction. Elles étaient le seul clergé à plein temps (collegia) d'une divinité romaine, ce qui témoigne de la haute estime dont jouissait la déesse. Elles entretenaient le feu sacré dans le sanctuaire de Vesta dans le Forum romain et accomplissaient d'autres rites associés à la déesse, tels que l'entretien des objets sacrés dans le sanctuaire, la préparation de la nourriture rituelle et l'organisation d'événements publics pendant les Vestalia annuelles, les jours de fête de Vesta (7-15 juin). Elles préparaient aussi rituellement les herbes dont on aspergeait les sacrifices et fabriquaient le pain (pane) qui était offert les jours de fête, comme le 1er mars, qui était le nouvel an romain.

Lire la suite...