The Sun On My Heart

by IlariaandSteph

Set during the movie, this a tale of love, friendship, intrigue...and tragedy. Both Maximus and Commodus have relevant roles, just like in the movie.

1. Part 1

THE SUN ON MY HEART

"One kind word, one full hug while you pressed me to your chest and held me tight, would have been like the sun on my heart for a thousand years.... "

-Commodus to Marcus Aurelius

Flavia Cressida tightened her stola around her shoulders and took a step into the sun. It was warm in Rome- unusually warm for so early in the year -- but she could not shake the sensation of a chill. It was as though the icy fear that pulsed among the people ranged behind her had been given physical form, and it blustered between them like a wind.

The emperor, Marcus Aurelius, was dead. With him, the certainty and security that had marked the past century was gone. The new ruler, his son, had done nothing to alarm them - yet. He was a total unknown.

The man would be here any moment. Already, far along the Via Sacra, Flavia could hear the sounds of the crowd welcoming their new emperor home. The procession which would carry Lucius Aurelius Antoninus Commodus to his throne had been winding through the city for hours. Soon they would arrive.

The sound of giggling made Flavia turn and frown. Her eyes drifted over the lines of senators and ladies ranged behind her on the Capitol steps, and finally came to rest on a fair-headed girl of sixteen. It was her little sister, chatting merrily with a young member of the ordo equestor. Like the older girl, this woman's legal name was Flavia Cressida, sometimes called Flavilla to distinguish between the pair. To family members and close friends, she had been known as Marcia since infancy. It was the name that had belonged to the woman who had given them birth. Looking at her sibling, it was easy for Flavia to remember why she was called so: Marcia was nearly a copy of their mother. She had the same soft curls, rosebud mouth, and wide-green eyes. Even her figure- curvy and tall- was a nearly perfect match.

Flavia shifted her gaze from the girl to the young equestrian. He seemed respectful enough- though his eyes seemed more interested in the girl's plump bosom than her conversation- but Flavia found herself disapproving nevertheless. He was an Italian- a new man -whose family had not yet ascended into the Senate. Completely unsuitable. Such matches were better off nipped in the bud.

Or maybe she was just bitter

Against her better instincts, Flavia held her tongue. How long had it been since she was the young girl smiling into poor, but handsome eyes? It seemed like a lifetime, but in reality, it had only been eleven years. It was eleven years since she had returned from the Northern frontier to a husband she had never met, her girlhood dreams of love tossed aside like an old, but cherished toy. Marcia would learn soon enough the harsh duty of well brought up Roman girls: the duty to honor their family with a suitable match, and honor their husbands with sons. Flavia, as the family matriarch now that her mother and father were dead, had the power to hold off that day at least for a while. She might as well permit one day of fun.

A commotion at the far end of the square returned Flavia's attention to the street. The chariots were arriving. She saw the plumes of the horses as they passed around a final corner, and then she beheld the chariot bearing their new Caesar.

Commodus.

Flavia squinted into the sun, making out the young man's silhouette. He had grown since she had last seen him- or perhaps he merely seemed taller in his purple cloak and crown. He looked so strange to her. She had been his older sister's friend since he was in the nursery, and so it was hard to think of him as anything but a skittish, yet affectionate child.

"Marcia." Flavia firmly called her sister to attention. The time for flirtation was done. Now that the emperor had arrived, they must be on their best behavior and give the man their full attention. Regardless of what sort of Caesar Commodus turned out to be, their proximity to the throne, and visibility to their ruler, demanded nothing else.

With a final shy smile, the teenager bade farewell to her admirer and joined her sister on the steps. The younger girl studied the approaching procession with interest, her emerald eyes glimmering with excitement. "Do you think they will have a banquet at the palace tonight?" She asked, knowing very well that the answer was 'yes'. Receiving no reply, she posed the question Flavia knew that she had always been intending to ask. "Do you think I will be invited to come?"

"I will see." Flavia said noncommittally, struggling not to grin at the girl's eagerness. "Perhaps if you are good…."

Marcia responded to the teasing with a pout. Her lower lips protruded slightly in a childish, but pretty display of her displeasure.

"Straighten up." Her sister admonished, tired of the game. "They're here."  

In the square, below the steps, the three lead chariots had come to a halt. From the first, the young emperor dismounted, and began ascending the stairs. Behind him came his sister Lucilla, and the Captain of the Praetorian- a man Flavia didn't recognize, but whose office was proclaimed by his black plumed helmet. She ignored the men, concentrating on the empress- her oldest and dearest friend.

The young prince, Lucius, hurried down the steps to his mother, and Flavia smiled at the scene, even as she fought a pang of longing for a child of her own. During her marriage, she had believed herself pregnant many times, but nothing had come to fruition. Just as she became certain of the signs, her bleeding would begin- heavier than usual- leaving her with an empty nursery and unfulfilled hopes. Her husband had been very old. The doctors had hinted that taking a lover- or, now that she was widowed, a new husband- might finally bring her success, but Flavia had never found the inclination. She didn't want to marry again without love, and the more years that passed, the more it seemed that love was just a fairytale from long ago.

Lost in her musing, Flavia didn't notice the emperor's arrival until he was only standing a few feet away. He had reached the top of the stairs, and was greeted by children with flowers. Then his wife, Crispina, stepped forward, clasping his hand in a token gesture before slipping aside once more. The senators had his attention now. He murmured something unintelligible as his sister slid past.

"Flavia!" The Augusta held her arms open in greeting as she strode toward her friend.

The embrace was accepted, and the two women hugged tightly before finally stepping apart. The noblewoman studied the empress. Lucilla looked tired. A darkness was in her eyes- the same mute sadness that had lingered there when her husband, Lucius Verus had died.

"You look weary." Flavia said with concern.

The empress's lips twisted into a sour smile. "Yes."

"You have had a long journey."

"Journey?" For a moment Lucilla looked surprised, as if she had forgotten the cause of her fatigue. "Oh- yes…the travel." She forced a smile. "I hardly need to tell you how long a ride it is from Germania."

"No." Flavia answered, thinking back to the happy summer that she had joined the then-princess and her father on a trip to the Germanian border. The tribes had been at rest that year- building strength for their next campaign, and the two girls had been permitted to join the expedition. Her closeness with Lucilla had grown during their long travels, and the quiet nights that they had spent in their tent. She thought wistfully of the hours they had whiled away basking in their unaccustomed freedom, gossiping about the servants and mooning over handsome soldiers- and about one of the soldiers in particular. It was the principal reason that, after so much time, the two were still close friends.

"Will there be a banquet tonight?" Marcia's voice interrupted the older woman's thoughts.

Flavia frowned harshly at her sister, annoyed that the girl did not know better than to address the empress without being spoken to first- even if Lucilla had changed her diapers when she was a baby.

Luckily, the woman seemed merely amused. "You may count on it Flavilla." She assured. "A banquet to be remembered for all time. There is nothing that my brother loves more than spectacles…."

"Why Lucilla, that isn't true." Flavia gasped to realize that the emperor had joined them. "You know that I love you more than games and banquets." He tousled his nephew's hair. "..and Lucius too…."

"Hail Caesar." Flavia said quickly, dropping into a curtsey, relived to see from the corner of her eye that Marcia had imitated her actions.

"Rise, rise…." The emperor said with a grin. "There is no formality among old friends…" He gave Flavia an indulgent smile, and then turned his attention to the other girl, extending his hand to be kissed.

Marcia took it shyly, her eyes lowered as she touched his skin to her lips. "Hail Caesar." She murmured sweetly.

"Commodus." The man insisted.

Marcia looked up tentatively.

The emperor met her gaze, offering a rakish smile that made the girl's cheeks flush crimson. "Now…what is it you were saying about spectacles?"    

"I was…asking if there would be a banquet tonight in Caesar's honor."

"Do you wish for one?"

"I…." Marcia hesitated, clearly uncertain as to how to respond.

"All young ladies are anxious for parties." Lucilla inserted smoothly. "And I have promised her that you will not disappoint."

"Oh, no." the man said, pointedly. "I will second the promise on that score." He tore his gaze away from the girl to face Flavia. "And of course you and your sister will join us."

"Like all Romans, I welcome the chance to meet my new emperor." She answered diplomatically. "But my sister is very young, and yet unmarried, her reputation-"

"- will certainly remain untainted by a single dinner at the palace." His attention was diverted for a moment by a senator, reminding him that he was needed elsewhere. "I quite insist that she be allowed to attend." His lips curled into yet another smile. "How much trouble could she possibly get into there?"

Flavia's shivered with foreboding as the young man walked away.

How much trouble indeed?

*****

The largest triclinium of the imperial palace was thronged with so many people it was almost impossible to see its marble pavement. The servants tried valiantly to find a way to deliver food and wine to all the guests but it was an almost impossible task. Flavia and Marcia arrived together and stayed one near the other until the eldest sister was approached by the wife of a senator who had been a good friend of her late husband: the two matrons began to talk about the decoration of the room and the quality of the service and commented about the difficulties they met finding suitable servants for their respective households. Soon Marcia found herself bored with all the matter. She was still young and carefree and domestic questions didn't interest her a bit. She knew her older sister was skilled in that field. Marcia yawned and turned her head to look to the other guests. Then she glanced toward the divans at the front of the hall, surprised when her eyes locked with Commodus'. The new emperor smiled to her and the girl shyly replied to him in the same way, before blushing when Caesar motioned her to join him. Marcia looked to her sister. She felt that she should tell her that she was stepping away, but seeing how engaged Flavia was in her conversation, she decided not to interrupt. Silently, Marcia stepped aside and began the difficult task of crossing the crowed hall.

When she finally reached the other side of the triclinium, Marcia bowed deeply in front of Commodus.

"Rise, rise," he said coming near to her and took her hand for a kiss. Marcia was stunned by his behavior and it showed in her eyes. Commodus saw it and smiled, "My dear Marcia, I am so happy to have you here. It is pleasant to have real friends near me and not only opportunists and flatteners." Commodus indicated a side of the hall with his arm, and Marcia was surprised to see him include his wife Crispina in the bunch. It was possible they were not getting along well? The girl, her heart still not yet marred by the harshness of reality, found sad and curious that the emperor and his comely wife might not be happy together, but of course kept these thoughts to herself.

"So, Marcia, what have you being doing in these last months?"  Commodus asked.

The girl lowered her eyes as she replied, "Nothing special, I am afraid, your Majesty. My sister and I went to Pynthecusa in autumn and returned to Rome only five days ago, to ready ourselves to receive our Caesar."

"Please, Marcia, we have known each other since we were children. I know a lot of time passed since that day, but I wish you to call me Commodus, not Caesar."

Marcia blushed and again and then nodded, "As you wish...Commodus."

"Good. And now, returning to the boring life you have led in the last months… I am please to tell you that it has come to an end. I am going to celebrate my father's memory with great festivities held in his name. All of the Roman citizens will find something to entertain them." Commodus' pale green eyes shone with excitement

"Really?"

"Yes! I plan to organize 150 days of games in the Colosseum. They will be free for all the populace, and they will be majestic." Caesar took a breath and then stared at her, "Will you come to see them, as my guest?"

Marcia's heart seemed to skip a beat. All the attentions the emperor had lavished to her had been flattering but this strange invitation left her flustered! He was married! Accepting his offer would not be good for her reputation: even in her naivety she knew people was keen to jump to conclusions and she did not want to upset her sister. "I don't know, Si- Commodus.... I don't think it would be...appropriate."

Commodus's eyebrow climbed. "Appropriate?"

"You are.... married."

He finally understand and smiled at her innocence, "Don't worry, my wife will be there with us-- even if she will be more interested on the fighters than in me or the people accompanying me."

"What?" Marcia was surprised by his bitter tone; he had been so cheerful till that moment.

"Look at her," he said, tilting his chin to indicate the spot where Crispina was laughing and talking with four handsome young men, "Since my return we have barely spoken ten words to each other."

"Oh," Marcia was embarrassed by his confession, "I am sorry, Commodus."

"Don't be sorry-- just tell me you will come with me to see the games."

"I will, Caesar, I will." She said with a shy smile.

"Good." Commodus smiled again broadly and for the second time in few minutes, Marcia felt her heart flip flop in her chest.

*****

From the other side of the room, Flavia frowned while watching her sister and Caesar share a smile. What was going on? She wondered but then pushed the thought away. Marcia and Commodus had known each other from childhood, just as she and Lucilla had, and there was nothing unbecoming in their conduct.

"Why are you so displeased?" Lucilla's voice asked her, she joined her friend.

Flavia shook her head to clear her mind, "I was just thinking about how much time had passed since my sister and your brother shared the nursery..."

Lucilla smiled briefly, "Yes a lot of time... Sometime I wish we could return to those years.... everything was simpler... safer." the last sentences were said so softly Flavia had to strain her ears to catch them.

"There is something wrong?" she asked, concern clear in her gray eyes, the sensation that not everything was all right with her friend's return.

"No...It is just something which happened in Germania." Lucilla sighed deeply and added, "Come with me in the garden...I will explain."

Flavia did as she was asked and followed Lucilla till a low stone bench. The two women sat down but the Augusta remained silent, her eyes staring to the darkness in front of them.

"What is it, Lucilla? It is about your father's death?" Flavia asked gently.

"Partly.... I...It....Oh, gods, Flavia, it concerns Maximus!" Lucilla said in a rush, her voice trembling.

Flavia paled. So many years had passed since that name had been said aloud but she immediately knew whom her friend was referring to. Maximus Decimus Meridas, eleven years before he has been tribune of the Felix Legion III in Germania, and now he was General and Commander of the Army of the North.

Lucilla's only love.

Flavia's only love.

"What happened to Maximus?" she asked with anxiety.

"He is dead, Flavia, he is dead!" Lucilla's voice broke down with emotion.

"Dead?" the chestnut haired woman whispered as she felt like someone had just slapped her, "How.... it happened? In battle?" she finally stammered.

"No, it is much worse... He was accused of treason by my brother and.. and executed...and I could not do anything to save him!" Lucilla threw herself in her friend's arms and began to cry, happy to find relief with the only person who had really known the depth of her feelings for the Spanish soldier, though she never knew she was not alone in her love.... and now in her grief.

*****

Marcia was beginning to get nervous as she rounded a corner and entered what another endless corridor. She had been wandering the palace for what seemed like hours. One of the serving girls had seen her sister leaving with the empress, and had tried to offer directions, but apparently the noble had missed a turn. Instead of entering the imperial gardens, she had found herself in the slaves' alleys behind the kitchen, and then a reception area, a clerical room, and now here, in a long hall that seemed to have been converted into a gymnasium of sorts.

The teenager stepped slowly through the space. The lighting was very dim. Only a few of the torches we lit, and most of the hallway was washed in shadows.

Marcia shivered as she passed a rack of weapons. Slender, ivory handled gladii were arranged in neat rows next to shelves of helmets and armor. The arms reminded her of the equipment that the gladiators used. How curious to find it here in the palace!

The sound of rustling fabric caught the girl's attention, and she followed it through the low light to the far side of the room. Her features displayed relief as she found an open window. The doors led to a wide balcony, and from it she could see the garden.

There was no sign of her sister.

Marcia frowned, but did not give up hope. There appeared to be a lot of people milling among the trees. The banquet was finally breaking up, and the revelers were meandering slowly toward the litters and bodyguards who would bear them home. She couldn't make out all of their faces- but it was clearly possible that Flavia was there. No doubt she was anxious to return home. Her little sister feared a bout of temper if she made their party late.

Spying a doorway on the far side of the grounds, Marcia fixed in her mind the directions that she would have to take, and then returned to the hall. If she went down two flights of steps and turned left, she should be outside. Once there, she would walk to the center fountain and inquire about her sister.

Lost in her thoughts, Marcia did not notice as the furnishings of the apartments around her began to change. Rather than powerful, imposing pieces of furniture and art meant to impress, the rooms she walked through had a more intimate and comfortable décor. Low, soft looking couches nestled against the walls, and the floor beneath her sandals seemed pleasantly warm.

The girl walked down a staircase and opened a pair of heavy doors. She balked to find that, rather than another hallway, she had entered a bedchamber- a guest room from the looks of it. Marcia finally realized that she was in the residential section of the palace. The information was both unwelcome and comforting at the same time. Uninvited guests had no business in the family quarters. They might run into trouble with the guards- but at least if she could find the nursery she could remember her way out. She remembered vividly the hallway leading from the playroom into the outdoors. Once she located it, she could make her escape. Closing the door, Marcia quickly retraced her steps and hurried down the hall.

More doors, like the one that she had entered by mistake, lined the corridor on either side. The young woman peeked in a few, hoping that the paintings on the walls, or perhaps the furnishings would stimulate her memory and help her find her way. The last room had paintings of the Sabines on the wall above the bed…. Had her father and mother stayed there one night? She took a tentative step inside.

"You there!"

The girl froze, her blood turning to ice in her veins at the sound of an unfamiliar male voice.

"Halt!" it commanded, and she did as she was told- incapable of moving even if she had wanted to.  The voice belonged to a Praetorian.

"What are you doing here?" The man demanded, his hand on the hilt of his sword as he hurried toward the wandering girl. In the distance, Marcia heard footsteps- no doubt another guard, alerted by the sound of his companion.

"I-I…." She stammered. "I was trying to find my sister. She was with the empress and…."

"Your sister, eh?" The man frowned, and grabbed her shoulder. "And what would your sister be doing in the Imperial apartments."

"She was speaking with the empress…." The strong grip on her arm filled Marcia with a sense of panic. She had never feared the Praetorians on the street. The emperor, Marcus Aurelius and his Prefect had kept them well in hand…but that was in public during the day. The feeling of the man's hot skin through the fabric of her tunica, and the not quite disinterested look in his eyes reminded her of the danger of wandering off alone.

"The empress, eh?" The man leaned closer, exacerbating Marcia's fears as his hand traveled from her forearm to her waist, hauling her forward. "Are you sure she isn't providing some entertainment to our Caesar…or perhaps you were wishing to- but I might do just as well."

The man leaned forward to kiss her, but she turned her face away. "Let go of me!" She demanded. In her fear, she found the strength to wriggle away, putting five yards between herself and the guard before the stunned man realized that she was getting away.

"Halt!" He cried angrily.

Marcia ran.

Aimlessly, she rushed through the first door she saw nearly colliding with another pair of stunned guards who were standing just inside.

"Stop her!" her would-be captor demanded.

Immediately, the men converged,  "Don't touch me!" she screamed, truly panicked now. "Leave me alone!"

 "What is the meaning of this!?!"

Marcia barely heard the angry voice that echoed from within the chamber, but she did observe- with relief- that the guards instantly froze.

"Caesar!"  The first Praetorian said nervously. "I'm sorry…."

Marcia's knees buckled in relief as she recognized the presence of her friend. The lax grip of the guards permitted her to slump into the carpets.

"…I caught this little serving girl slipping into one of the chambers and I thought she might be meaning to steal a-"

"A serving girl?" Commodus' voice was cold and harsh. "Does she look like a serving girl?"

The young emperor stepped around the girl, who was still cowering in the floor.

When the Praetorian did not reply, he stepped forward. "Well?" He challenged.

"Caesar, I-"

The young ruler bent forward, casually lifting the edge of Marcia's stola, running his finger along the gilded trim. "Do serving girls customarily wear gilded brocade?"

"I-"

"Or jewels?"

The guard's jaw set like stone as he decided it was best to say nothing at all.

"This woman, Praetorian, is Flavilla Cressida, daughter of General Flavius Cressidus, former senator of Rome and governor of Numidia…"

"A mistake, sire. I apologize. It will not happen again."

"A mistake."

Marcia shivered at the menace in the young man's voice.

"I suggest that if your powers of observation are weak enough to make such a mistake, perhaps you are unsuited for the duty of protecting your emperor." Commodus gave him a threatening stare, and then turned to one of the other guards. "I want this man out of my sight. Tell Quintus that he is to be discharged at once- and that if there are any other 'mistakes' of this type, I may not be so merciful in the future."

"Yes Caesar." The guards that had been inside the chamber exchanged a wary glance, but exchanged their hold on Marcia for one on the first Praetorian, leading the man away and leaving the youngsters alone.

"Are you alright?" In a flash, the terrifying anger was gone from Commodus' face. In it's place, he wore a look of concern. Finally safe, the reality of what had almost occurred- at least, what might have almost occurred, rushed in on the girl, and she began to weep softly.

"I'm sorry, Caesar. I was looking for my sister, but I got lost and…."

"There, there…."

Through her tears, Marcia blinked in surprise as he knelt beside her and drew her into his arms.

"I couldn't find my way. It was dark and…."

"Shhhh…. you're alright."

Finally, the warmth of his embrace soothed her ragged nerves, and the girl's crying abated. She sniffled softly against the emperor's sleeve. "Forgive me, Caesar." She said when she finally regained control.

"There is nothing to forgive." Commodus drew away, but he did not release her completely. "I am glad to find you here. The banquet was awful when you left."

Marcia's cheeks pinked in pleasure.

"The senators care nothing for food or dancing- only their idiotic debates. They can't see that their endless squabbling is killing Rome. They've been writing down their silly laws for hundreds of years…and what have they done? Ended corruption? Fed the headcount? Put down rebellion in the provinces?"

If Marcia had been paying attention, she might have listed a dozen examples of the good the lex romana had done, but her mind was drifting away from politics. Somehow, the words of Caesar's speech had gotten lost in the thick, honey tenor of his voice. His breath, clean and sweet on her cheek had become a distraction, and he was so strong…. holding her…

"-what I can do!" Commodus stopped speaking abruptly, seeming to notice the change in Marcia's expression. "I'm boring you." He said quietly.

"No, Caesar!" She insisted. "I…I'm afraid that I don't have a head for politics. My sister has said so."

The young man considered the statement, and then laughed at her. "Oh? And what do you have a head for?"

The girl looked at her hands. "I don't know…silly things…silks and cosmetics…. the races…" she blushed. "Useless things- at least tata always said so.

"Perhaps your father underestimated you."

The vehemence in Caesar's voice made her look up, and she cowered again, seeing that the anger had returned. Commodus looked away sharply, his lower lips quivering to contain a sudden burst of emotion- and then he was suddenly calm again. He caressed Marcia's hair tenderly. "We should find your sister. She will be worried."

*****

Flavia was scanning the great atrium for the umpteenth time when she finally saw her little sister stepping inside. She sighed in relief and then felt her stomach sink as she recognized the man who was walking near her. It was Caesar. Commodus. The man who had ordered Maximus' death. Flavia gritted her teeth. She could not let her boiling emotions control her. She had to be gracious, polite and grateful with Commodus and then leave the palace as fast as she could. In the safety of her own room she would be finally able to mourn and shed all of the tears that threatened to spill from her eyes at any moment.

Gracefully, Flavia crossed the room and stopped in front of the younger couple, bowing deeply to Commodus, "Caesar."

"Ah, Flavia, look who I found wandering near my rooms." Commodus smiled jokingly but the older woman found the smile less innocent than only two hours before. She turned to her sister and raised an eyebrow in a silent inquiry.

"I was searching for you and the Empress," Marcia said, "But I got lost."

Flavia pursed her lips, "You should be more careful."

"Oh, don't be too hard on her! The Palace has been just re-modeled. We changed its lay-out, and it is easy to get confused with all these corridors looking all the same." Commodus said and Marcia shyly smiled to him in gratitude.

Her older sister did not like the look, and planned to speak with the girl once they returned to their domus.

"You are very kind, Caesar." She forced a smile, "I am afraid it is going late. We should go home."

"Yes, of course." The emperor nodded, "I wish you a good night, Flavia, Marcia. And I hope to see you again soon."

"As you wish, Caesar. Good Night." Both the sisters bowed to their sovereign and then left the room, followed closely by the young man's gaze.

*****

Once they arrived home, the sisters separated and went straight to their respective bedrooms. Marcia had been surprised by Flavia's silence during the ride home on their litter. She had seen the reproachful glance she had thrown to her when she had heard about her 'trip' in the imperial apartments, and she had fully expected a lecture about what a lady should and should not do. Instead, her sister had not said a word, but stared blankly in front of her. Flavia's usually healthy colored cheeks paler than the moon, and her eyes seemed almost unseeing. Marcia felt that something was very wrong but she knew Flavia was uncommonly reserved.... she would speak to her only when and if she were ready to do so. Thus the younger girl simply wished her good night and left her alone.

Flavia entered her chamber and hastily dismissed her maids, telling them she did not need help preparing for bed. The two servants showed their surprise but obediently exited the room, leaving their mistress alone. Once the door closed behind their backs, Flavia removed her stola and jewels and threw them unceremoniously on her dressing table. Then she walked to her desk and sat down on the chair. I front of her, near the lamp and a couple of open scrolls there was a small figurine. It was a wooden carving of a woman - young girl - on a horse. Flavia picked it up and looked at it intently, but soon her vision became blurred as she remembered the man who had carved it and gave it to her as a gift...

It had been her first travel outside the Italian peninsula and seventeen year old Flavia Cressida had been very excited by the prospect of seeing new countries and new people, and to learn how her father lived in the unknown, mysterious and fascinating German forests. But even more enticing had been the prospect of spending months in the company of her best friend, Lucilla. The two girls had grown up together, sharing games and lessons in the garden and great halls of the imperial palace. Flavia's family and age had made her the perfect companion for Marcus Aurelius's daughter and that was why she had traveled to the north along with Lucilla and the Emperor, for one of his periodic tours of the legions' camps.

The girls had occupied the long hours of travel inside the imperial wagon by reading, by playing and most of all, by talking and confiding in each other their dreams of love. During those talks the different personalities of the girls emerged fully: they were both promised to much older men whom they did not love but who were important for their families' alliances. Thus it was unlikely they dreams of love would have come reality during their marriages. But while Flavia was ready to do her duty, and become a faithful wife and mother for her husband, no matter at what price, Lucilla had made clear she wanted romance and was not adverse to the idea of finding a lover. Lucilla had been bolder than Flavia, more ready to fight for what she wanted. During that trip in Germania she had wanted Maximus.

Flavia remembered as if it had been yesterday the first time she had seen him. He was a young, brilliant tribune who, at only 22 years of age, had been her father's second in command. Maximus, with his blue-green eyes and ready smile, his dark hair and beard and his sturdy and impressive body, was vastly different from the young men she and Lucilla had known in Rome. He was the son of a former senator living in Hispania. The soldier had been assigned to guide and escort them around the camp after their arrival, and thanks to his easy-going attitude, the trio had become friends in mere hours.

But the friendship had lasted only a little while. Soon, for two of them, it had transformed in something much deeper.

One evening Flavia and Lucilla were in their quarters in the Praetorium when a gust of wind had blown out one of the candles. The air had not come from the door flap, but from the side of the tent. The two girls inspected the fabric and noticed that, under the pelts hanging from the ceiling, there was a hole in the wall of the tent. Curious, they peered through the hole to see who occupied the quarters next to theirs, gasping in embarrassed pleasure when Maximus appeared in their field of vision. The girls had girls watched him. Clad only in his loincloth, he had done some push-ups on the carpet just in front of them. Lucilla and Flavia, with a mixture of desire and guilt, had devoured the young tribune's body with their eyes as the sight awakened a strange new sensation in their veins. They watched until the tribune crawled to his bed and extinguished his candle. Then, red-faced and eyes shining, they had finally pulled their eyes from the hole. Lucilla's chest heaved with excitement as she whispered. "I will have him, Flavia. He will be my first man, I swear it."

And it had been so.

In the following weeks Flavia watched the romance between Maximus and Lucilla blossom. She was torn between happiness for her friend and envy. Lucilla had been bold enough to do what the other girl only dreamed to of. Flavia's only consolation - though also a torture - was Maximus' friendship. The young soldier had still spent a lot of time in her company, even teaching her to ride, a thing she had always refused to do before. They were both silent types, who seemed to communicate more with their eyes than with their words. Maximus appreciated Flavia's quiet temperament, so different from Lucilla's, even if it was clear he was helplessly in love with the young princess.

But with Lucius Verus' sudden arrival at the camp, Maximus and Lucilla's happiness ended. Lucilla had always known there was no way that she and Maximus could marry, and she had not planned to tell him that she was promised to her father's adoptive brother and co-ruler. Her plan - disapproved by Flavia - had been to return to Rome, continue a correspondence with Maximus, and convince him to leave the army and join her in the Capital, where they could have carry on their affair. But her husband-to-be's appearance had ruined everything: Maximus had learned of the imminent marriage and, hurt and furious, had confronted her in her quarters. They had fought, shouting insults to each other, while Flavia walked back and forth in the deserted Praetorium, hoping Marcus Aurelius, Lucius Verus and her father stayed away.

The next days had been terrible for Flavia, whose two best friends were both hurting because of each other. She tried to help them as best as she could, all the while struggling to contain her true emotions concerning Maximus. The situation was so tense that had been a blessing when the day of their return to Rome arrived. Maximus and Lucilla had exchanged only a formal farewell, but Flavia had received a much warmer goodbye. The tribune had presented her with a small carving he had made. It portrayed a woman atop a horse and Flavia understood the girl was she. With her eyes full of tears she had examined the beautifully detailed features of the figurine, noticing the care he had used to carve it, and trying to find the courage to tell him, if only once, how she felt about him. In she end, she had only been able to tell him, "Thank you."

"No, I must thank you for having been such a good friend." He had replied softly before adding, "I will miss you, Flavia."

His last words had broken her and after a hurried embrace, she had almost ran to the wagon, pressing the carving to her chest, tears blinding her vision.

"Maximus..." whispered Flavia, returning to the present, to stare at the little statue which was her most precious belonging.

During the trip home, so many years ago, Lucilla had been too lost in her own misery to be aware of her friend's distress, never noticing the carving and thus never knowing that Flavia had also left her heart in the woods of Germania, in the broad hands of a gentle, silent soldier she would not ever see again.

Flavia rose from the desk and walked to her bed, laying down on it with the figurine still pressed to her chest, as the pain she had restrained all the evening finally broke loose, and she abandoned herself to a desperate crying.

Maximus was gone...forever.

*****

Marcia undressed and lay on her couch, but was too excited to sleep. She replayed the events of the evening in her mind, beginning with how Caesar had singled her out from the hundreds of guests, and then recalling how he had comforted her when she was lost.  She had all but forgotten the terror of her capture by the guards. All that remained was the thrill of being rescued. It was too bad that she hadn't had a chance to show the emperor how grateful she was for being saved….

The girl giggled and pulled her coverlet around her chin. She should be ashamed to even think such a thing- Commodus was a married man…but he was also a very sad man. Marcia found it hard to think anything charitable about Crispina. She had all but ignored her husband throughout the banquet…and what was it he had said? They had barely shared ten words…. How lonely he seemed! Her mind occupied with the young Caesar, Marcia finally drifted off to sleep.

*****

"The games start tomorrow- free games for one hundred and fifty days."

Flavia tried not to betray the interest that she was paying to the conversation between the vegetable stall owner and the fruit seller next door. The latter, an elderly man, grinned toothlessly. "He's bringing the gladiators back-real gladiators, not just legionnaires being put through maneuvers for show…I never thought I'd live to see the day."

"My nephew's daughter is a cook for Senator Paulus. She says those men that come for dinner are mad as cats about all the money its going to cost. They wanted it to raise troops to hold Germania."

"Well, all I say to that is: what's Germania to us? Timber and coal? Well that's more money for noble's purses, I say. I'm glad that one of them Caesars is thinking of us for a change. Let Senator Paulus take one less licker fish with his cena if he wants Germania so badly."

The vegetable salesman nodded his acknowledgement. "Besides, I doubt when it comes to it that the Conscript Fathers will be so against laying down a sestertius or two on one of the matches."

The men laughed at the remark, but it chilled Flavia to the bone. How easily manipulated the mob was! Commodus was smarter than anyone had given him credit for. He had seen that the surest, and easiest path to security in his throne was to entertain the populace- and how eager they were to be entertained! In only a few hours in the market, the Roman matron had overheard a half-dozen conversations about the impending competition.

 "Are we going to go to the games?"

 Flavia rolled her eyes at her sister's almost-hopeful tone. "Absolutely not."  She replied," and I told you not to mention it again."

"But Caesar said-"

"It would appear that Caesar has changed his mind." Flavia's tone was harsher than she intended, but she simply could not survive another round of her sister's pleading. "You have not heard from Caesar in nearly three weeks."

Chastened, Marcia fell silent once more, handing the market basket to one of the slaves accompanying the young women.

Flavia checked the wax tablet on which she had inscribed the items that they needed from the market. Satisfied that they had completed the necessary purchases, she signaled that they were ready to return to home.

*****

Marcia trailed her sister restlessly along the Vicus Patricius back to their home on the Viminal Hill. She seemed lost in melancholy thoughts. Thoughts about Commodus. Flavia thought to herself. If she weren't so relieved at the loss of the ruler's attention, she would feel sorry for the girl.

The morning after the banquet, Flavia had intended to put her foot down- Marcia was to remain safely at home and out of Caesar's sight. It sounded good in theory, but the widow knew that in reality, if the man had truly desired her sister's presence, she would not be able to deny him. Happily, the flirtation at the party had amounted to nothing. No further word from the palace had come. Marcia was disappointed, but young- she would recover quickly enough, and perhaps sooner than later if Flavia put her head to arranging a good match. Most important of all, Flavia was not forced to confront the man who had killed her only love.

The entourage rounded the final corner to home with Flavia in the lead. She was barely watching the streets around them, but the sight that greeted her in front of her house finally drew her attention.

Horses.

Three gray dappled stallions were pawing the pavement outside the door to the Flavii manse. Flavia shivered with apprehension. Horses were banned inside the city walls. Only Praetorians would have them, and Praetorians meant….

No. Flavia pushed aside the rumors about the deaths of Senator Brutus and Senator Argus. They had eaten poisonous mushrooms- not so unusual…but their deaths had occurred so closely together- and they had both been critical of Caesar's games.

Gathering her courage, Flavia lead the party inside the door. As she had suspected, three Praetorian's were waiting inside the atrium. One of them stepped forward and made a slight bow in her direction.

 "Lady Licinia?"
Flavia frowned at the appellation- no one had called her by her late husband's name in nearly four years.

"Yes?"

"And Lady Flavilla…?"
Marcia inclined her head to affirm her identity.

"We bear a message from his majesty."  The man tendered a papyrus scroll tied with a purple ribbon.

Flavia accepted it warily, broke the seal, and began to read….

Lady Flavia Cressida Licinia and Lady Flavilla Cressida. The pleasure of your company is requested….

Flavia felt her heart drop to her gut as she read the rest of the message. Commodus had not forgotten his promise after all.

"What is it?" Marcia inquired hopefully. "Is it from Caesar?"

Flavia nodded slowly, trying to think of a plausible lie. It was no use. "It is." She admitted. "It is an invitation to the games."

*****

Flavia brought the mint leaves to her nose and inhaled deeply, hoping it would cover the stench of blood that came from the sands of the Colosseum. It was only midday but she was already sick of all the killings she had witnessed. The worst was yet to come. The true gladiators' fights would begin only after lunch. Then the blood reddening the sand would no longer be animal, as it was now, but human...Flavia shivered and turned her head to look to her sister. Marcia seemed unconcerned about what was happening in the arena, occupied as she was hanging onto Commodus' comments about the 'spectacle' as if he were an oracle. The girl seemed entirely oblivious to the carnage around her and to the dirty looks that Crispina threw in her direction. Caesar's wife did not love her husband but nevertheless she was a possessive woman, who loved the power of her position. She clearly resented the special attention the girl was receiving from the emperor. Flavia wondered how it was possible for Marcia to be so naive that she did not notice what was going on or did not understand that having Crispina as an enemy might prove dangerous for their family? Perhaps, she thought, she had pampered her little sister too much. When she was sixteen, Flavia had understood very well her place in society and the things that she could not do. That was why she had sacrificed her only chance to taste love. Pursing her lips she decided it was really time to give Marcia a stern lecture. She could not avoid Caesar's invitations, but at least she could to teach her sister the proper behavior for a lady.

*****

Marcia knew she was in trouble from the very moment she had stepped inside the family litter. Her usually calm sister was practically boiling with anger and she knew that it was directed at her. The younger girl gritted her teeth and prepared to receive a lecture about something she did - or failed to do - during the day. She frantically recalled her behavior at the games but in all honesty she was not able to see if and where she had committed some mistake. True, she had spent a lot of time speaking with Commodus, but only because he had talked her first.... surely her sister did not expect her to ignore their Caesar's inquiries! Marcia looked once more at Flavia's aristocratic profile and wondered if her sister had ever enjoyed some young man's company just for the pleasure of it and not because it was her duty. The girl deeply loved her sister but sometimes their age difference- almost twelve years - made difficult to understand each other.  She had been only six when Flavia married Licinius but she knew theirs had not been a happy match. Marcia also knew that this was the reason her sister had not yet arranged a marriage for her: she was hoping her sibling would find a suitable man for herself, someone of good family, that she could love, sparing Flavia the decision to condemn her to a loveless marriage like her own. Marcia was grateful for the patience, but it seemed all the young men she liked were totally unsuitable for her sister...And now there was Commodus, with his sad eyes and desire to be loved! Commodus - who liked to speak with her and appreciated her love for beautiful things. Commodus.... who was married and completely out of her range...

"Well, are you going to step down of this litter or do you plan to spend the night here?" Flavia's annoyed voice snapped Marcia back to reality, and she hastened to leave the conveyance and follow her sister inside their home. Flavia was really angry, she thought, because she never spoke to her like that in front of the servants.

Once inside the domus, Flavia led Marcia in the tablinium and slammed the door shut.

"What did you think you were doing?"

Marcia blinked.

"Are you going to answer?" Flavia hands were on her hips.

"I...I don't know what you mean.... I only talked …" Marcia defended herself.

"Talked? Talked! You practically hung from his lips! Your eyes seemed like those of a love-sick puppy! Marcia, you cannot go on in this way! If I could, I would order you to never see him again."

"But it is a harmless thing.... Commodus and I are only friends."

"Oh, Marcia, there is harm... Commanding Caesar's attention is very dangerous," Flavia sighed, and her tone became calmer, "You did not see how Commodus was staring to you when you were not looking! And you did not notice Crispina's furious glances...."

"Crispina does not love her husband, she cannot be jealous." Marcia was confident of this.

"She is jealous of her position, of her power. And that is even worse. It could endanger our family to have her as an enemy:"

"Sister, sister, you worry too much! Commodus - and Lucilla too - would never allow Crispina to harm us...."

"Caesar is a danger himself!"

"What? I don't understand." Marcia was confused.

"You don't know him, Marcia," whispered Flavia, coming near the girl and gathering her hands in a gesture of comfort, "He is not the gentle boy we knew: he is ruthless now, and cruel. He has no scruples about eliminating those who cross his path, even if they are innocent women and children! He is charming to us now but that could change if we make a wrong move. We must be careful."

Marcia stared at her sister, feeling there was something she was not telling her: her voice had trembled when she had spoken about innocent women and children, as if she had personally know these victims of Commodus' supposed cruelty. "Supposed", because Marcia had no proof of it: Commodus had always been so gentle with her Marcia could not bring herself to believe to her sister's words. However she decided to placate Flavia and so she said, "Very well, sister, I will try to be more discreet in front of Crispina, but I cannot avoid Commodus if he wishes to see me. And besides - I really believe you wrong about him. We are only friends, nothing more."

The older sister slowly nodded, "I pray you are correct, Marcia. I truly do." Then she sighed before going on, "Now go to change your clothes: it is dinner time and I am sure the cooks are already complaining because the food is going to be cold...." She forced a smile.

Marcia hugged her sister briefly and then said, "Okay, I will join you in a moment."

Flavia watched the girl sprint away and shook her head with sadness: Marcia still could not see the truth. She was still too naive, too innocent, to see the monster Commodus was.

Sighing again with worry, Flavia exited the tablinium and walked to her room, all the while trying to think of some solution.

*****

The few days later, Marcia awoke to the steady hammering of rain on the roof tiles. Throwing a stola over her shoulders, she ran to the courtyard, hoping that her ears were playing tricks on her. They were not. The sky was filled with dark, heavy clouds that showed no sign of lifting soon.  There would be no games today.

Marcia put the lovely, embroidered tunica that she had planned to wear to the imperial box back into her clothes chest and helped her slave select a dress of plain dull wool. Binding her hair simply at the nape of the neck, she went down to the triclinium for the morning meal.

After breakfast, the women of the house retired to the library. Flavia began to look over the household accounts while her sister toyed half-heartedly with some needlework. Both sisters looked up expectantly when their steward entered the room with an odd expression on his face.

"A caller for you, my lady." He announced, and then stepped aside.

Marcia noticed her sister pale as a Praetorian strode arrogantly into the room.

"His imperial majesty wishes the pleasure of your company for lunch." He announced, the tone of his voice implying, quite clearly, that he resented being sent as a message boy to a pair of women.

Flavia blinked, and then said evenly. "Please thank his imperial majesty, but he must understand that it is impossible- the weather..."

"Caesar has sent his carriage for your disposal." The man said in now he would surely report that as a lie.

"Very well." Flavia said at last. "Marcia, please dress in something suitable."

Less than an hour later, the two women were rolling through the cobbled streets of Rome, warm and dry while the awkward carriage rumbled toward the Palace.

*****

"Marcia...Flavia." The younger sister pinked with pleasure at their emperor's greeting and rushed forward to kiss his hand. He always said her name first, instead of the other way around, as was custom. After lingering with her lips a half-second longer than tradition dictated, she stepped away to permit Flavia's greeting, shyly looking at the floor as she was directed to her seat.

Their dining arrangements were unusually intimate. Only Lucilla, the Praetorian Prefect, and his wife Antonia were present for the meal. Caesar's sister sat in the position customarily reserved for his wife, who was nowhere in sight. In spite of the limited company, there was plenty of conversation. It turned out that Antonia was also a General's daughter- her father had once commanded the Judean legions- and she, her husband, Lucilla, and Flavia, engaged themselves in a spirited debate about which army was superior.

Marcia was spectacularly bored. She wanted to talk, if only to pass the time, but she was completely ignorant of the topic, and wasn't willing to embarrass herself by opening her mouth. She was stirring her soup idly when one of the servants tapped her on the shoulder. She blinked in surprise when he dropped something in her lap. It was a scrap of papyrus.

"Make some excuse to leave the table."  It said simply.

Marcia's smooth brow furrowed in confusion. Who had sent the note? Looking up, she was instantly caught in Caesar's pale green gaze.

Commodus. Commodus had sent the note. The young girl felt a shiver of excitement run along her spine, but she tried to hold her emotions in check, at least for now. Had Flavia seen the note? She quickly glanced at her sister. No, now she and Antonia were discussing household management - did she never tire of the infernal topic? - but she wasn't paying any attention to Marcia. Tucking the paper into her tunica, the girl made her move.

"Oh...." She moaned softly, bringing her hand to her temple and grimacing as if in pain. "Ohhh....."

Lucilla noticed the sound, studying her with a look of concern. "Marcia, are you alright?"

The girl continued the act, rubbing her skin as if trying to abate a terrible headache. "I am sorry, Augusta. I am suddenly not feeling well. I am sure that I will be better soon, I...." She paused to wince again. "I have spells from time to time. I usually lie down for a few hours and they pass..."

"Then perhaps you should have some rest. It was unwise to travel in the rain." At this, she shot her brother an accusing gaze. She summoned a servant with her upraised hand. "Please escort Lady Flavilla to a guest chamber. She needs to take a nap."

"Immediately, domina."

Marcia wanted to look at Commodus to be sure that he understood what she was trying to do, but she could not risk it. She knew that Flavia would study her closely. Luckily she did suffer headaches from time to time, and she hoped to avoid suspicion.

*****

Flavia watched uneasily as her sister was escorted from the room. True, the girl often complained of headaches- though in her opinion they stemmed more from boredom than a medical condition. Perhaps she was merely on edge. The emperor made a single polite inquiry about the girl's health, and then began speaking to Quintus about some new gladiators who were arriving from Africa.

About five minutes later, one of the servants stepped forward and whispered into Caesar's ear. The young man made a heavy sigh, and then rose from his couch.

"Please excuse me." He said quickly. "I am afraid that some of the senators need my opinion on a bill that they are proposing...Lucilla, would you be so kind as to entertain our guests?"

"What kind of bill?" Lucilla asked. Flavia watched the woman with interest. She knew that, even early in Commodus' reign, the empress handled most affairs of state.

"A trifling matter, really." He said, growing a little flustered. "But it is important to know that Caesar is interested in all of Rome's affairs...and so I bid you adieu." He inclined his head slightly, and then left.

*****

After her brother had disappeared from the room, Lucilla looked at her guests and saw they had all finished eating. "Well, " she said, "I think we can call the end of this lunch."

The guests nodded and rose from their couches. The Prefect obtained permission to escort his wife home while Lucilla and Flavia went to the porch. It had finally stopped raining and the plants and flowers in the courtyard glistened with drops of water. The women walked for a while in silence and then Lucilla said, "You seem worried, Flavia:"

"I am."

"Really? And about what?"

Flavia consider a her friend for a moment and then answer, "My sister.... and your brother." Her voice had dropped on the last two words.

"Oh. So you have also noticed the way they are looking at each other?"

"I would have to be blind to not to see it. But since you too are aware of it, how would you suggest that we put an end to this situation?"

"We should not attempt it, Flavia. Everything Commodus wants, Commodus gets."

Lucilla's tone was very low and full of hidden meanings. Flavia stepped closer to her and whispered, "What is it, Lucilla?"

"My friend, you have always known me better than I know you, haven't you?" Lucilla smiled bitterly and went on without awaiting an answer, "I am worried about Commodus, but not in the way you might think: I am afraid of what he will do to Rome when his grip on the populace is stronger."

"I don't understand." Flavia looked perplexed and the other woman sighed again.

"He wants to disband the Senate. He says it is useless."

"But that would be…!"

"I know! But he is adamant and he is only waiting for an opportunity."

"And how does he plan to keep control of the empire?" Flavia raised her voice and Lucilla hurried to silence her

"Shh... these walls have ears. I don't know how he plans to retain power, but I know he is going to establish a reign of terror...No-he has already begun."

"What?"

"Senator Argus and Senator Brutus...Surely you have heard about them..." Flavia nodded, "They were poisoned, my friend, per my brother orders. And I am afraid it is only the beginning."

The two women fell again into a long, contemplative silence, broken at last by Flavia who said, "I am going to leave Rome with Marcia. We will retire in our villa in Pynthecusa and.."

"Aren't you listening to me? You cannot go away! Commodus will not allow it. He wants to see Marcia and if you oppose him, you will only put yourself in danger. That's why my son Lucius is attending the games even if I cringe every time..." Lucilla spoke in an urgent hiss.

"So I should leave my sister in a murderer's mercy?" Flavia spat angrily, but her friend did not realize the murder she was referring to was Maximus'.

"She is not in danger.... not really. Theirs seems to be only an innocent flirtation- and I hope this situation will soon improve."

"How?" Flavia's tone was skeptic.

"What I am going to say must remain a secret," Lucilla's tone was deadly serious and her friend nodded in agreement, "There are many people whom don't like Commodus and they are working to bring him down. We...they don't know yet how to act but..." Lucilla stopped talking and conveyed the rest of her message with her eyes.

Flavia nodded slowly. Lucilla had just admitted that she was part of a plot against her own brother and that meant the situation was even more serious than she had suspected. Perhaps the best thing to do was to remain silent and hope Marcia would not get into too much trouble. Lucilla was right, her sister and Commodus seemed to be indulging in a youthful flirtation: with some luck it would remain so. Flavia did not like the situation but she realized she could not do anything to change it.

"Is there something you want me to do?" she finally whispered.

"I ask you to encourage Marcia to talk to you: perhaps Commodus will say something to her which might be useful for us to know in advance." Lucilla replied after a brief pause.

"As you wish." Flavia nodded again and stared hard in her friend's eyes, communicating to her she too was now part of the plot to bring Commodus down. She was going to do it for Marcia's sake, for the good of Rome, for Lucilla's and her son's safety, for Maximus' memory and, finally, for herself.

*****

Marcia paced the little chamber nervously, wondering if she had misinterpreted the note. If she had, then she had sentenced herself to a long afternoon of lying alone in a stuffy bedroom when she could have been out enjoying the palace. With a heavy sigh, she sat on the edge of the bed, letting her eyes wander around the frescoes on the walls and ceilings. Unlike the solid colored bedchamber she inhabited at home, this room was painted in the more typical Roman style for sleeping quarters. Marcia grinned as she tried to determine what, precisely, Apollo was doing to the little mortal maiden depicted in one of the panels above the bed.

"Inspired?"

Marcia gasped in fright at the sound of the low voice behind her. Her heart was still hammering even after she determined that the voice belonged to Commodus. She had not heard the door opening. He must have slipped in through the servant's entrance, concealed behind a curtain on the far wall.

She considered the remark for a moment before she answered.  It was wildly inappropriate. Perhaps Flavia was right after all about the emperor's intentions- but rather than being insulted, did Marcia found the realization exciting.

"Perhaps." She said quietly, very slowly turning her head.

"Marcia-?" Caesar seemed not to expect her favorable response, and was suddenly uncertain about what he should do next. His awkwardness was endearing. It reminded the girl that, in spite of the power of his office, he was still a very young man- just as new to life and all its possibilities as she. How could Flavia accuse him of terrible things? True, the justice of the Caesars was sometimes harsh, but that was the way of life! Beloved old Marcus Aurelius had ordered German villages burned and criminals executed.  If someone innocent had been harmed...well, she was certain that it was unintentional! Commodus was entitled to make mistakes. He was still so new to his position...so uncertain- and he wanted to please so badly.

A feeling of deep tenderness brimmed in Marcia's heart. Instinctively, she reached forward to caress his cheek, lingering for a moment, and then recoiling in horror when she realized that she had touched the imperial person without permission.

Commodus caught her hand before she could draw it fully away.

"Don't." He whispered.

"Don't?"

"Don't stop."                

Caesar replaced her hand on his cheek, holding it there for a moment, his eyes closed to savor the contact. When he opened them again, a new fire burned in the green eyes. A hunger.

The next few moments passed as if in a dream. Marcia felt his arms slide around her waist, drawing her small body against his form. His fingers twined in the chestnut locks of her hair, tilting her face upwards as he claimed her lips with his own. The girl made a soft sound of approval as he massaged his mouth against hers, first content merely with the brush of their skin, but then becoming more insistent, the cool muscle of his tongue seeking for admittance.

Marcia parted her lips, allowing him to deepen the kiss, and at last her own hands became alive. She wrapped her arms around him, her hands tracing the definition of the muscles in his back, giddy with the freedom to explore his body.

They kissed for several moments, and then Marcia felt a moment of panic as Commodus pushed her back onto the bed. She had not expected things to progress so quickly, and now there was no way to stop. Marcia was torn between horror and fascination as he lowered himself atop her, the prominence of his desire pressing urgently against her thighs and filling her with a craving she had never known.

"We can't." She whispered, shivering with anticipation and fear. "Your wife...."

"My wife if nothing to me." The emperor spat, his fingers fumbling urgently with the clasp of her tunica. "Only you...oh, my love..."

His love. The desperate sincerity of his voice brushed away her fears. If loving Commodus made her a wicked and immoral girl than so it be. Marcia abandoned herself to vice.

At last, the emperor's fingers worked free the clasp at her collarbone. The fabric of her dress slid away, exposing the creamy skin of her shoulder and breast to his assault. Marcia pressed her head back into the mattress, wallowing in the sensations that assaulted her nerves, unaware until that instant that a body was capable of so much pleasure. She was achingly conscious of the erection still pressed against her legs.  Without even really knowing what it meant, she understood that she wanted him to take her. To possess her. She raked her fingers through the short hairs at the nape of his neck, leading him to her lips, wanting him to kiss her once more...

"Marcia?"

The girl choked at the sound of her sister's voice, followed by a soft knocking on the door.  Her lover was equally shocked, jumping away from the bed as if he had been struck by lighting. "Marcia?" Commodus gave the girl a look of regret, and then lunged for the curtained doorway from whence he had come.

Flavia stepped into the room, pausing for a moment to allow her eyes to adjust to the dim light. Marcia was sitting up on the bed, trying to reposition one of the pins to her tunica.
Flavia arched an eyebrow.
"I...I was hot." Marcia said explained quickly, well aware of how she must look. She could feel that her cheeks were flushed, and her eyes must still be wild with frustrated desire.
"Are you coming down with a fever?" Flavia's voice was almost motherly in its concern. She laid her hand against her sister's neck. "Your pulse is racing and your skin is on fire!" She exclaimed with real concern. "I'm going to fetch a doctor at once!"

*****

By the time that Flavia ascertained that her sister was feeling better, the rain had begun again. The matron sighed with frustration. She had hoped to slip home under the pretence of using the break in the weather. Now, they would have to wait on Commodus to offer the carriage to carry them home- if he offered.

In the end, it turned out that Flavia's suspicions were justified. The weather remained wet and blustery- and Caesar would not provide his covered cart to return them to their house.

"My sister is convinced that it was being out in the elements that brought on little Marcia's cold." He insisted. "I could never forgive myself if she became worse. Please, make yourselves comfortable here. I will send the servants for anything you desire."

And so, Flavia resigned herself to remaining at the palace.

"Isn't it exciting?" Marcia asked, as a slave unbound her hair and began brushing the red-brown locks to a fine sheen. "I've never spent the night in a palace before."

"And we shouldn't be spending the night here now…"

"But I might get sick!" Marcia ignored her sibling's worried tone. "Caesar is just trying to be polite."

Flavia bit back the response on the end of her tongue. She remembered Lucilla's advice. It was simply a youthful flirtation. It was best to let it run its course- and to see if Flavilla had anything interesting to say.

"Well…perhaps you are right. Caesar is certainly solicitous of your health."

"Yes…"

Flavia noted that her sister's cheeks flushed crimson.  "He seems very solicitous of you in general."

Marcia's expression betrayed that she suspected her sister was preparing for another lecture. "Well, we have a lot in common." She said evenly.

"Yes. I would imagine that you do."

The younger girl arched her eyebrow, clearly expecting a different remark.

"You are both younger siblings, both with fathers who were involved in the military…" Flavia let her voice trail off as though she had named only the beginning of a long list, though, in truth, she couldn't think of a single other thing that the pair shared.

"You are right." Marcia seemed cautious, but pleased at her sister's acceptance. "He's terribly lonely- just like me. He needs a friend."

"You're lonely?" Flavia was momentarily distracted from her task.

Marcia ignored the question, continuing her defense of the ruler. "Commodus isn't bad! He isn't like you say at all. He just doesn't know what people want him to do. He wants everyone to like him but…"

"It's impossible to please everyone." Flavia snorted contemptuously. "A truly wise man- a good ruler- follows his principles and knows that respect is more important than adoration." Seeing her sister's features grow stony once more, she reminded herself to soften her criticism. "But he does seem to be doing better with the Senate." She soothed. "Just after you left lunch today he went to a meeting over something relatively minor…perhaps you are right- he simply needs time to learn.

"Yes." Marcia seemed somewhat appeased. "I am sure that you are right."

In spite of the fact that the palace was a virtual city unto itself- with a sea of bedchambers numerous enough to house almost all the nobles of Roma at once, Flavia and Marcia shared a bed.

Flavia insisted that she wanted to insure that her little sister was not frightened by the Praetorians- and she made such a show that no one seemed to suspect her true purpose- to keep Commodus at bay.

All that week, as the rains continued to fall, Flavia followed a similar plan. She avoided criticizing Caesar or throwing herself in the way of his flirtation with Marcia in any way- but at the same time, she never left them alone. She encouraged the youngsters to sit together in the library perusing scrolls, or for Marcia to watch Commodus practice swordplay in one of the many makeshift gymnasiums scattered throughout the palace, but she was always the first to bed and the first to rise- and knew where her sister was at all times.

In spite of her anger about Maximus, Flavia's hatred of the Emperor did soften slightly. No matter what evil had tainted his heart, with Marcia he was the same, sweet-natured little boy that he had been in her youth. He truly seemed to admire Marcia for reasons beyond the girl's physical beauty and Flavia wished, with all her heart, that her suspicions regarding his character would prove untrue. If only one of his brothers had survived to adulthood and had been able to take the throne- then Commodus might have been uncorrupted by the lust for power. He might truly have found happiness with her sister….

But none of them had lived. Commodus was the emperor of Rome. If what Lucilla said was true, he had assumed the post after murdering his own father. Flavia was far too cautious to assume that such a selfish and unstable man could harbor any real depth of feeling for a girl.

At last, the rains ended, and Flavia and Marcia were free to depart for home.

"You will be at the games this afternoon?" Caesar asked as they prepared for the journey home.

"Thanking Caesar for his invitation, we will need at least a day to settle back into our affairs…" Flavia tried to sound as diplomatic as possible. "I have been absent for a week and my business…."

"Of course I won't make you come." Commodus said evenly, but Flavia thought that she could hear a hint of tension in his voice. "…But that is no reason for Marcia to stay at home."

"Oh, no!" the girl said quickly. "I have nothing to catch up on."

"It is settled then." Caesar said with a nod of satisfaction. "I shall meet you at the regular time."

*****

The next time Commodus invited the sisters to the games Flavia decided to go. She was tired of staying at home alone and worrying about Marcia and even if she hated the gladiatorial fights, at least she would have the chance to talk with Lucilla or Antonia, the Prefect's wife.

They arrived to the Colosseum just after lunch, when the public executions had been already carried out and the fights with the animals had ended. As they settled down on their chairs, in the still half-empty imperial box, the gates of the mighty arena opened to admit a group of almost twenty gladiators carrying long spears, rectangular shields and various types of helmets. They formed a line in the center of the ring, just as Commodus and his entourage made their entry. As the audience called for their Caesar, the two sisters stood up from their chairs and bowed deeply.

Commodus waved to the crowd and then turned to them.

"Marcia, Flavia, what a pleasure to see you here." His eyes were amused, because he knew all too well that they would be there. "Today the games will especially entertaining:  Cassius and I have decided to stage a recreation of the Battle of Carthage, when Scipio destroyed Hannibal's army."

"Oh." Marcia's eyes grew wide with wonder, caught in the magic of Commodus' voice, but Flavia could only throw a look of pity to the pathetic band of slave in the ring - the men the Colosseum editor had just labeled as the barbarian horde. She snorted: Flavia remembered her father's descriptions of the barbarian hordes and she was sure they were nothing like these poor, almost defenseless men in front of her. Sighing deeply, she sat down and prepared to endure another round of carnage when the gates opened again to release several chariots. They were 'Scipio's legionaries', and they began to circle the 'barbarians'. The crowd cried in excitement while near her Antonia shook her head and said, "It will be a massacre, the men on foot have no chance."

Flavia nodded absent-mindly and, as the battle began, she turned to look at her sister. Marcia's eyes switched between the arena and Commodus, and she pursed her lips upon seeing the adoring gaze. How was it possible that Marcia was so smitten by him? True he was always gracious with the girl, but how could Marcia fail to notice the bloodthirsty and cruel way that Caesar was watching the games? How could she ignore that he liked to see other men suffer and die? Other Caesars, the great Augustus included, had offered games for the pleasure of the mob, but none of them had liked them, while Commodus... A loud thud drew her attention back to the present and Flavia blinked as Commodus and young Lucius stood up from their chairs to lean on the balustrade and look down into the arena. Her eyes swept over the fighting ground and saw, to her great surprise, that, far from being slaughtered, the 'barbarian horde' was on its way to winning the battle. With a slight smile, Flavia watched as the blue-clad gladiators worked together following the orders of a slave now mounting a horse. He was a masterful rider who chased and killed the remaining 'legionaries', closing the combat and sealing their victory by raising his sword arm to the sky. For the first time in her life Flavia found herself applauding the performance, strangely captivated by the helmeted man on the gray horse.

From the corner of her eyes she saw Commodus and Marcia clapping with enthusiasm and then Caesar summoned Cassius, the editor.

"My history is a little hazy, Cassius," he said with a jovial voice, "but shouldn't the barbarians lose the battle of Carthage?"

"Yes, sire. Forgive me, sire." Begged the editor, his trembling voice showing how afraid he was.

"Oh, I'm not disappointed," Commodus commented, "I rather enjoy surprises." He pointed to the leader of the winning gladiators and asked, "Who is he?"

"They call him the Spaniard, sire."

"I think I will meet him."

"Yes, sire."

Cassius hurried away to alert the Praetorians and Commodus turned to Marcia and asked, "Would you like to come down with me to meet this Spaniard?"

Both Marcia and Flavia started at the request. To go down in the arena with Commodus would mean declaring their relationship - whatever its nature was - to all of Rome and thus ensure Crispina's anger. Luckily Marcia showed common sense and said, "I would prefer not, Caesar. I hate getting sand in my sandals." She smiled charmingly and the emperor accepted her refusal with grace. "All right, wait for me here. I will be back in few minutes." And speaking thus, he rose from his seat and left the imperial box. When he was gone Marcia looked briefly at her sister, and Flavia nodded in approval.

Down in the arena, a squad of Praetorians had surrounded the gladiators and made them drop their weapons. The crowd had reacted badly to the action until Commodus appeared on the sands and they understood that he wanted to praise their new hero. Flavia watched the scene with interest, inwardly wondering what kind of man was hidden behind the mask. She saw Caesar walk to the center of the ring, indicating to the kneeling slaves that they could stand. A smaller figure had joined him and Flavia saw it was Lucius: the boy must have stormed past her in a flash, since she had not noticed him leave the box.

The woman exchanged a look with Lucilla, who shrugged her shoulders, and then returned to look to the scene in front her.

Something was going wrong in the ring, because Commodus' tone was no longer praising and admiring, but angry. Flavia frowned and then gasped as the Spaniard turned his broad back to Caesar and stalked a few step away. She and Lucilla exchanged another look: was the man mad? Why had he insulted the emperor - the man who could have set him free-by showing his back to him?

Commodus commanded the Spaniard to remove his helmet and after a loud sigh, the man did so and turned around.

Flavia's hands ran to her mouth to muffle a shocked scream when her eyes saw the gladiator's face. So many years had passed, and he looked older and more tired but there was not doubt the man in front of her was Maximus! Her beloved Maximus! Flavia was so stunned she did not try to make out what Maximus said to Commodus next, but she almost jumped with terror as she saw the Praetorians unsheathe their swords, ready to kill the man she had loved for almost all her adult life. Flavia cast a panicked look to Lucilla, as if to beg her to do something, but her friend was also frozen on the spot.

It was then that the crowd began to chant with ever increasing force, "Live! Live! Live!" begging, or better, demanding Caesar to spare their hero's life. Flavia held her breath, as she mentally prayed to all the Gods she knew, and let it out in a relieved sigh only when Commodus gave thumb up to Maximus and the Praetorians lowered their weapons and retreated. Tears of joy fell from her eyes as she heard the audience call Maximus' name and she saw him leave the arena in triumph. Feeling observed she turned around and saw Marcia looking at her with a puzzled expression and so she hurried to wipe her cheeks, smiling shakily to her sister, before mouthing, "Later."  She knew an explanation was in order, but not now and certainly not there in front of everyone. Her eyes briefly met Lucilla's who motioned to the stands with her chin. Flavia looked in the indicated direction and saw Commodus walk away, hastily followed by Lucius and the Prefect of the Praetorium. It was clear that Caesar was furious and his sister said, "I must go to him, I need to placate him." Antonia, who was standing there pale as a corpse nodded gratefully as the Augusta hurried away pursued by her ladies in waiting.

"We must also leave," said Flavia, barely looking at the Prefect's wife, "Excuse us. Come Marcia, we must run." And before Marcia could ask why and where they had to go, her sister had grabbed her arm and led her out of the imperial box.

*****

Flavia stepped down the steep stairs of Colosseum, sparing only few glances to see if her sister was following her between the other persons running down in the street.  When she finally was out of the amphitheatre, she looked around herself, trying to determinate where the Ludus Magnus, the place that hosted the gladiators, was.

"What are we doing here?" asked Marcia, having finally caught up with her sister.

"I am searching the gladiators' quarters," replied Flavia, rising on her toes to have a better view of the crowded area.

"It is in that direction..." said Marcia, pointing to their right, "But why are you-" She was not able to finish her sentence because her sister picked up the hem of her tunic and run away. "Flavia!!" More and more confused, the girl followed her.

When Flavia finally reached the Ludus Magnus it was only to see the iron gates close behind the victorious 'barbarian horde'. She pressed against the bars, trying to catch a glimpse of Maximus, to somehow attract his attention, but it was useless: he was surrounded by his fellow gladiators and the shouting crowd covered her voice. One by one the men were led inside the building till only the guards remained in the courtyard.

Flavia pressed her forehead against the gates and, closing her eyes, began to cry: now that the adrenaline rush was ended she fell all her tension and ruined hopes crash on her like a stone.

She started when a hand suddenly touched her back and she whirled around, looking at her sister with wild eyes.

*****

The scene shocked Marcia. Never in all her life she had seen her sister behave in such away. But she knew something very serious had happened, and it was somehow connected with that gladiator, the man called Maximus. However it was not the time to ask questions: she simply opened her arms and Flavia ran to her, pressing her face against the fabric of her tunic as she continued to cry. Marcia caressed her back and whispered quiet words to her, trying to calm her, feeling ill at ease and very worried. She was used to being the one comforted, not the one doing the comforting and she did not know what to do. In the end Flavia's sobs stopped and she raised her head, brushing the tears from her eyes and blowing her nose.

"I must look horrible," she said with a weak smile. Marcia shook her head in negative and Flavia went, "Here, come with me, I need some wine."

They reached a caupona and sat down on a table. If the owner was surprised to see two women alone, he did not show it but hurried to bring them two cups of watered wine and some bread and cheese. Flavia gulped down half of her glass and then, turning toward the expectant face of her sister said, "I own you an explanation of what happened today."

"Yes, you do." Commented Marcia without resent.

Flavia sighed and began, "All of this started eleven years ago, during the summer Lucilla and I spent in Germania, visiting with the emperor our father's camp. You were probably to little too remember it, but it was just before I married..." she continued to talk, telling her sister everything had happened that summer, from the first moment their father had introduced her the young tribune till the moment Maximus had given her his parting gift.

Marcia was stunned to discover the passion and the love her sister harbored for Maximus, and which showed in every word, in every longing look she threw to the Ludus Magnus. Flavia had always seemed so cold, so distant. But perhaps, she was merely reserved...

"I am sorry," the girl said, posing her hand over Flavia's. "I never imagined it."

"How could you have? You were only a child and I never told it to anyone. Even Lucilla does not know." She sighed. "I am so worried about what Commodus will do now..."

"Why?" Marcia sounded defensive.

"Oh, I have yet to tell you the rest of the story-- the reason why I don't trust him...." Once again Flavia lost herself in explanations, recounting everything Lucilla had told her about the night when Marcus Aurelius had died. Marcia listened to the terrible tale of a son killing his father and then ordering the late emperor's most trusted general killed along with his family, the innocent woman and child Flavia had referred to days before. The young girl could not believe to what she heard but she knew her sister was not lying...but what did that mean? Was it possible that the man she loved could be such a monster? A patricide? No, it could not be...Commodus was too gentle, too kind to have done such cruel thing...Unbidden the images of the young Caesar laughing upon seeing a gladiator being stabbed to death jumped in her mind and she pushed it away.

"Lady Cressida, your presence is required from the emperor." The cold, unfeeling voice of the Praetorian snapped her out of her macabre thoughts.

"What?" she asked.

"Caesar ordered me to bring you the Palace."

"Oh," said Flavia, paling, "Just let me pay the bill and then we-"

"Caesar requires only Lady Flavilla's presence." The guard stressed before taking the girl for the elbow and dragging her up.

"Hey!" began Marcia, trying to free herself, but Flavia shook her head, "Go with him. I am going home and wait for you there."

"All right."

The older of the Cressidae sisters could only watch with worried eyes as Marcia was led away by the Praetorian, praying the gods to look after her.