Disclaimer: First, I do not own the Twilight saga or any of its characters, although I did change their names around to fit the story… It just kinda made more sense… Yeah, you'll understand eventually… Second, I am not claiming to be an expert in history. I am fascinated by it, and I've researched as much as I could before starting this story, however not everything is going to be 100% accurate. Especially when I have twenty different websites telling me 20 different things…. That's right Wikipedia! I'm talking about YOU! *points and gives the stink-eye*
A/N: Anyway, hello! I hope you enjoy the story… I tried my hardest to edit it because I don't actually have a Beta *chuckles nervously*, uhh… yeah. Enjoy! *grins awkwardly and party rock shuffles away*
1
The sun was not yet high enough in the sky to turn the day hot when I finally opened my eyes to the world. The cool cotton sheets were wrapped tightly around my body from a night of restlessness and I had to take a moment to work myself out of the knot I had made. The chemise did not keep the soft breeze away from my body as it came in through the opening to the terrace however it felt wonderful on my over-heated body.
It was no mystery as to why I had been so discontented during the night, but I refused to ruin my day so early on with the morbid thoughts of my future.
I drew my body up and sat on the edge of my bed as a knock sounded on my door.
Right on time.
"You may enter," I called softly, my voice still thick from sleeping.
Into my room came my two hand-maids. As the daughter of the younger brother to the Emperor, I was used to the help. Our family had never been through hard times and to put it simply, there was never a short supply of bread on the table.
"Good morning, Isabella, are you ready to dress?" asked one of the handmaids. She had a pretty face framed by blonde hair. I nodded and stood from my bed, lifting my arms above my head. The maid stepped forward and slipped the chemise off over my head while the other girl walked over to the chest made of dark wood that contained my clothes. The girl pulled out a new band of cloth and a fresh stola that was the same color as the sea with golden embroidery around the hem. She crossed the room to me and helped tied the band around my breasts, making sure that they were securely held in place then helped to put the stola over my body.
While she had been doing this the pretty-faced maid waited by the vanity sitting by the entrance to the terrace. I crossed the room at my own leisure and sat down on the silk wrapped stool. My reflection in the polished metal was that of someone who had clearly not gotten the proper amount of sleep that night. The blonde maid wasted no time in brushing out my hair and beginning to pin it up on my head.
I watched her absently, slightly bothered by the fact that I could never arrange my hair in such an artful way. Having grown up with only my father I had missed out on certain experiences that only a mother could provide. I had watched how my cousins interacted with their mother and found myself jealous with them for having a separate wisdom to confide in throughout their lives.
But I should not be complaining. The Gods have blessed me with a good life. A father who loves me and a good home with beautiful hanging gardens that I loved to sit in during the morning when the heat was still bearable.
After a good while my hair was finished and completely pinned up on the top of my head, held into place with pearl encrusted pins. I examined it for a moment and found not one hair out of place. I smiled delicately at the two young women.
"Thank you," I said to them softly, my voice much steadier now, "You may continue with your other duties."
They both nodded to me and left the room almost silently.
After they had gone I crossed the room to the table that lay beside my bed. Upon it was the small box made of dark wood that had once been my mother's. It now held all of her old jewelry and the new pieces I had collected since I was little. Opening it I pulled out a simple golden necklace and three golden bracelets with pearls lining them. The necklace had been my mothers, the bracelets a gift from my Uncle Marcus, and my Aunt Violetta for my seventeenth anniversary.
From the box I also pulled out a small, worn down square of amber that I had bought at the beginning of the summer season. Its surface was smooth from my hands rubbing against it and from rubbing it onto my skin to give it a slight perfume. I usually carried it with me on my excursions into the city. One never knew what kind of awful stench they would walk into.
Satisfied with myself for the day I pulled on the simple leather sandals that sat by the chest holding my clothes. I walked out of my room, watching as a new maid made her way inside to clean up the bed and do anything else that needed to be done.
As I walked through the hallway my sandals slapped softly against the marble floor. The breeze from the atrium wafted through the hall empty hall. I walked into the dining room to find my father speaking with one of the servants. His face was tight and looked slightly gray in pallor.
I tried not to make much noise as I approached however he stopped speaking with the servant who scuffled away quickly, most likely relieved to be released from my father's stare.
My father, Caius Volturi used to be a generous and strong man. Since my mother, Elena's death eighteen years ago, he has not been himself, but rather a shell of the man he had once be. That is what others who had known him the longest had told me. His dark brown hair had gone completely gray and his shoulders slightly caved in on themselves. When you looked in his gray eyes you could see that he was not truly happy, he was resigned to the fact that he would live out the rest of his life without truly knowing contentment.
"Good morning, Isabella. How did you sleep?" he asked me in a guilty manner. He knew that I was still angry with him. For some reason that made me a bit happier, he deserved to know I was angry with him. He sat down at the head of the long oak table that occupied the middle of the room while I sat on his right.
Thinking back to my restless night I gave him a halfhearted shrug. Considering the reason for my discomfort had come from the news he had delivered to me early last night I did not quite feel like speaking with him.
"Well enough, I was thinking of going to the temple to visit with my dear cousins. I have not seen them in quite some time," I spoke, the last part more for my own thoughts than my father's.
"As long as you are back before noontime, the Emperor has invited us to watch the games this afternoon, it should be a great spectacle," he replied to me and I grimaced and withheld a shudder.
I had been to the games only thrice in my life and not once had I enjoyed myself. The thought of men killing each other for prize money, whether they were convicted criminals or not, made me feel sick to the core. I had watched blood be spilt upon the sand within the arena and men fall to their knees begging for their lives only to be brutally killed when the Emperor gave the signal. While it was the crowd who shouted to either kill or spare the man in question, the Emperor was always the one with the final word.
"I will be sure to make it home with time to spare before we depart," I said as a reply. He nodded to me silently and then we both began to eat in silence. The dried fruit was drizzled with honey, as was the fresh bread that had been set upon the table. I filled my plate with some of each and was sure to eat every last piece. Honey was not uncommon, but it was one of my favorites, ever since I had been younger.
My father finished before I had and he gave me a chaste kiss upon my hair before excusing himself from the room. I stood from my seat and adjusted the material on my body before I made my way to the atrium.
In the middle of the room was a rectangular pond filled with crystal water. A few small fish swam within it, not to be disturbed by the heat that was already pouring in from the open ceiling. I continued through the atrium and then out through the front archway. I walked through the door and into the full light from the warm sun.
The weather had been gradually getting warmer due to the changing of the seasons however there had been no break in the past few days. Apollo had apparently been angered by somebody.
I walked the path I had memorized down the steps that led into my house and out of the small courtyard taking a left once I was in the street. We lived not far from the Forum and the voices were already raised high above the dust that gathered from all the feet in the dusty streets. Voices yelling out prices of fruit, and pottery, and jewelry all mingled together with the countering voices bargaining with the prices. Thankfully I had not brought any money with me this morning otherwise I surely would have spent it all. The Forum was so colorful and lively, it was hard not to lose oneself inside of it.
I smiled at the vendors who tried to sell me their wares and gently declined them as I continued through the streets until I could finally see the domed roof of the temple of Vesta.
I continued up the marble steps that most other people passed by hastily on their way to the market. Inside I could see several girls all dressed in white gossamer tunics that touched the ground, their shoulders covered by the white veils adorning their heads. In the center of the temple sat a raised platform with the eternal flame burning brightly in the center of the small basin.
It was the duty of the Vestal Virgins to keep the flame burning, for it was wide spread that as long as the flame continued to blaze Rome would prevail. Vesta was the Goddess of the hearth and also the Roman State. I kneeled down on the polished marble floor and offered a small prayer to her to keep this wonderful city prosperous then brought myself back up to full height, scanning the rest of the temple.
Within only moments I spotted two girls standing with their backs facing me in another corner of the temple. Both were small and slight in build and were connected by their intertwined hands. I smiled to myself at the sight of my cousins. They had never been separated once. I stepped up to them just as they turned around.
A smile graced my cousin, Alice's face as she saw me, a similar one adorning her twin's face.
"Isabella! What a lovely surprise, I've missed you so!" Alice let go of her twin's hand briefly to envelope me in a warm hug. I then turned to Celia and brought her into my arms. Although all of the women in our family were petite in stature, both of my cousins were so delicate looking. I wondered for a moment if they had been eating enough lately.
The both of them had their mother's soft black hair and exotic features, since she had come from Egypt. However while Alice had her mother's interesting indigo colored eyes, Celia's eyes were a cloudy blue color with the curse of darkness. She had been born without her sight, however she continually told others that she could see perfectly well through her twin's mind. Nobody ever believed them however I didn't have the heart to tell them to stop telling tall tales.
They were both three years younger than I, only fifteen years of age. They were the youngest to be accepted into the temple as tenders to the eternal flame when they were only thirteen years of age. I had been confused at first by their decision, but both of the girls had assured their family and me that this decision was what the Gods wanted. Their lives would be best served this way.
"Come, let us sit for a moment," Alice said as she joined her hand with her sisters again and began walking over to a small marble bench to the side of the temple. We all sat upon it, putting our hands together and resting them in Celia's lap since she was between both Alice and I.
"What news do you have, cousin?" Celia asked softly, her brow furrowing as if she sensed that something was wrong.
I drew in a deep breath and gathered all of my thoughts together. All of the words my father had told me last night. He spoke of the benefit of Rome and the strength of the family. Certain matters that certainly not be resting upon my shoulders. Alice's hand squeezed mine gently as her eyes searched my face.
"My father has promised me to the Emperor. Our uncle," I whispered to my young cousins quietly. Alice could not contain her gasp as her indigo eyes widened as she stared at me. Suddenly my throat felt very constricted and the small sting of tears pricked at my eyes.
"How can that be possible? He is almost forty years your senior," Alice said slowly and I looked away, not knowing the answer myself. My father had only offered me the limited explanation of telling me how I would be an Empress that Rome could be proud of. I was beautiful, and witty, and intelligent. All things that people told me all the time, but I had no actual interest in. Yes, it was nice to have those attributes, but what was it worth if my happiness was stolen from me?
"I do not know what to do. I do not want this. My father says that it will secure the survival of the family. It creates a stronger bond, but I do not love him. You know as well as I do that our Uncle is a callous and corrupt man. I can barely stand to be in the same room with him for dinner, I could not handle to be married to him!" I exclaimed in a hushed tone so that the other ladies in the temple would not listen in, however I was sure the tears on my face would create curiosity just as quickly.
"Shh, dear Isabella, everything will be alright," Celia whispered to me and I shook my head in reply.
"No, no it will not. I cannot marry him. I wanted to marry for love, what of my happiness? Am I supposed to give it up for the rest of my days?" I asked in a slightly hysterical voice. Alice's demeanor suddenly shifted and she gave me a stiff look.
"Do not ever tell me you are giving up your happiness. There must be a way to salvage this situation, I'm sure of it. Let me sleep tonight and I shall tell you what I see. I have a feeling that all hope is not lost, and tell me, have I ever gone wrong with my feelings?" she asked me with a slight smile, reaching up with her free hand to wipe away the tears that had fallen down my cheeks. I shook my head, taking a deep breath to calm myself.
Alice had always had an uncanny ability to sense things in the future. She was usually never wrong about something once she gathered a strong feeling about it.
When I had finally calmed myself down, I felt embarrassed about my outburst. Traditionally I was much better at withholding my emotions until I was alone. Alice patted my hand while Celia gave me a small smile however it quickly turned to a frown.
"You must tell her, Alice," Celia said quietly and I raised my eyebrows.
"Tell me what?" I asked quickly, not letting the comment pass by. Alice looked slightly unsure as she bit her bottom lip and looked down at her lap. Her free hand picked at the gossamer tunic.
"I've been having violent dreams lately… All of them have involved members of our family. First it was only our Uncle the Emperor, and then it continued on to your father and our parents. Last night was the first time you appeared. I woke with a cold sweat covering my body. Isabella, the dreams… they were not the normal ones I've had… they all involved violent ends to the lives of those in our families. Very violent. I don't know what to make of them as of now, but I am cautioning you to be careful in the future. The temple walls protect Celia and myself, but you must take care to not put yourself in dangerous situations," she gave me a grim look, "I have a feeling that certain members in our family will be dining with Pluto in the underworld much sooner than any of us have anticipated."
I could do nothing but stare at Alice. A shiver ran down my spine as her words replayed in my head once more. Even my own thoughts ran through my head again.
Alice was never usually wrong about something once she gathered a strong feeling about it.
I now wished that she had not spoken to me about any of this at all. It left me with an uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach.
"What are your plans for the rest of the afternoon?" Celia asked as Alice looked at the other ladies laying delicate twigs onto the fire.
I scrunched up my nose in distaste as I recalled my plans, "I am required to attend the games with my father and our Uncle."
"Oh, how can you stand to watch those games? They are barbaric," Alice frowned in disgust.
"That is exactly why they are popular, sister," Celia replied with a slight smirk.
"Indeed. Will Delos and Rosalia be joining you? I have not seen them in such a long time," Alice commented, ignoring her sister's remark.
"I'm not sure, however having Rosalia with me would certainly make it more bearable," I replied.
Delos and Rosalia had been married for almost two years now, and they were as close to our family as Alice and Celia were. Delos had been my best friend as a child, and our fathers had also known each other since they were young men. He had gone everywhere with me and had taught me a thing or two about handling a wooden sword and we had spent hours running through the streets of the Forum and the market place, but never in the Subura. That was forbidden.
"Isabella, we must tend to the fire again, but you must come back soon and tell us of your life. We cannot stand not to hear from you for so long," Alice said as she rose from her seat. I nodded to her and embraced her and Celia once again.
"I promise to be back again soon," I told them and they both smiled at me before I turned and walked back out of the temple into the afternoon heat. The market had cleared out a small bit and I was able to make it back to the house without trouble aside from the harassment of the same vendors I had passed earlier.
As I entered the house I found my father in the atrium speaking with a tall man with light brown hair and a petite woman with long blonde hair.
"Delos, you're early!" I called with a smile. My childhood turned and his tawny eyes landed on mine, a smile on his face. I hastened my steps to him and we hugged briefly before I turned to a smiling Rosalia and embraced her as well.
"I'm so glad you are joining us," I said to them both with a pointed look. Rosalia stifled her giggle behind her hand and Delos hid his small cough and a smirk, "Why are you here so early?"
"We were invited by your father for lunch before the games," Rosalia smiled at me, which I returned. Since her marriage to Delos we had become almost like sisters. She was older than me by four years, and she we well versed in the knowledge of men. We were no strangers to the courtyards in both of our homes and I was positive that the Gods knew all of our secrets that we had whispered during out times together.
My father led everyone into the dining room. He sat at the head and I took the seat to the left of him while Delos sat across from me and Rosalia on my side.
Immediately our lunch was served to us. It consisted of a bottle of wine, a large mixture of salads, and a plate of freshly baked bread with a bowl of olive oil for dipping in. We all served ourselves, the men talking excitedly of what they might see today at the arena while Rosalia and I ate in a comfortable silence.
Finally she whispered under her breath, "Delos and I have spoken of having a child," she said to me.
I dropped the dining utensil in my hand with a clatter. Both my father and Delos looked at me questioningly while Rosalie pushed her food around her plate.
"I'm sorry, I swallowed something oddly," I lied, hopefully convincingly. To prove my point I reached for my cup of wine and took a small sip. This seemed to ward off anymore questions and they both returned to their previous topic. I picked up the fork again and began to eat as if nothing had happened.
"When?" I whispered under my breath, breaking off a piece of bread at the same time.
"Last night. It did not end well. Delos stormed out last night and did not return until the sun had almost risen. I cried for so long I'm sure I have no more tears left," she whispered to me in a slightly broken voice.
I frowned at my food. I did not understand Delos's point with this.
Rosalia was a beautiful woman. Many men in Rome had wanted to marry her, or at least have the chance to court her. She was a naturally maternal person and I knew that if she had a child, she would be the happiest woman that had ever lived, and yet, Delos had firmly made his opinion known that he did not care for a child. Even one that might carry on his name.
I thought perhaps he was afraid of what taking care of a child might entail, but I have also seen him interact with my cousins when they had only been three years of age, and he had been splendid with them. It just did not make any sense to me.
"Do not dwell on it for now. Just enjoy today… If that is at all possible," I muttered under my breath. Rosalia gave a delicate shudder at the idea of the games. She hated them almost as much as I did.
"I do wish I could just stay home," she murmured. I nodded in agreement and then finished the lunch. Eventually everyone was finished and my father spoke up.
"We should start to move, the crowds will be thicker if we wait too long," he said, eyeing me carefully. If he believed for a moment that I had accepted what he had told me, he was certainly mistaken.
Delos walked with my father in the front and Rosalia's arm looped through mine as we fell into step beside each other.
On our walk back down the streets we talked of little things. Nothing of consequence could be spoken out of fear that others might over hear it in the street and spread it as rumors. It was better to speak of newly purchased dresses and the unfavorable weather.
Just as my father said, the crowds were thick and loud as we approached the enormous amphitheater. Dread was beginning to build in my stomach and I felt that I might be physically ill if I had to sit and watch one man be slaughtered by another.
Together we made our way through the throng of people and in through one of the archways into the giant structure. People had already found their seats and thousands of voices floated on the air and sounded like a giant humming. I held tight to Rosalia's arm as we walked to the Emperor's podium. I could clearly see that my Uncle had already been seated and as we got closer I could see that he was dressed in a scarlet colored robe, a golden circlet around his head. My heart seemed to be beating in my throat and Rosalia gently patted my arm in reassurance.
The podium was decorated with a silk covered golden chair for the Emperor whom we all bowed to upon arrival. My uncle's eyes remained on my face for a little while longer than the others. While two of his servants fanned him with large fans made of ostrich feathers he turned to his brother.
"Caius, so wonderful you could make it. And you, Isabella, you are looking as lovely as ever," he said to me and I could not help but feel a lump in my throat. I felt the need to run away and hide from his penetrating gaze.
"Thank you, Uncle Aro, for the invitation today," I managed to choke out the words out of courtesy of speaking to him. He nods in acknowledgement and then spots something over my shoulder and his face breaks into a wide grin. I turn slightly and look over my shoulder only to wish that I hadn't.
Standing behind me was Michelangelo and Tonina. Michelangelo had known my uncle Aro for quite some time, and likes to brag about the fact that he has become the Emperor's most trusted confident. He was a power hungry man, just like my Uncle, and it wouldn't surprise me if he was trying to overthrow him. His wife, Tonina was beautiful. Anyone would be a fool not to think so. She had long hair that was a reddish gold in color, the same that some women tried to achieve through dyeing their hair. Her features were delicate and her body was slim and curved, however her heart was uglier than any I had ever encountered. She was a vain, horrid creature who wanted nothing more than the money and power of a high ranking title.
For the past few months she had been seducing the Emperor. Rumors around the Forum told that she was trying to become pregnant with her child. Everyone knew that the Emperor would have to marry her out of wedlock and take the child in. And while this would solve my problem of becoming my Uncles bride, it would also mean that Tonina would become the Empress, and nothing could be worse than that.
"Dear Emperor, Aro! How good to see you again, everything is going well I trust?" Michelangelo asked with a slightly secret smile for his friend. Aro nodded.
"Yes, everything is calm for the time being. Tonina, you're looking as ravishing as ever, how have you been, darling?" he asked, not hiding the way his eyes roamed over the woman's body shamelessly. I looked away to hide my blush.
"I have been terribly lonely, Aro," Tonina pouted while her oblivious husband smiled at the Emperor like an idiot, "I had hoped you would throw another feast in the near future? I do love feasts."
"Then it seems that we will be having a feast extremely soon," Aro smiled at Tonina who grinned as if she had just won a crown. Perhaps, in a way, she had. Suddenly she seemed to notice that we had been standing next to her.
"Oh, Isabella, I did not see you there. What brings you here today?" she asked, although her tone clearly let me see that she did not care to hear the answer.
"My uncle graciously invited us to join him," I replied, knowing that all eyes were now upon me. It would not do well to tell her not to pry into business that did not concern her.
"Isn't that wonderful, you are so generous, Aro," she smiled at the Emperor again who gave her a nod, "I hope we may see more of each other, Isabella. I would truly enjoy the chance to become more than just passing acquaintances."
I had nothing to say to her. She had known me since I was only a little girl. Surely she had had opportunities to become better known to me in all that time.
"What a splendid idea! Isabella, Tonina would be an excellent friend for you," Aro decided to step in at that moment. Apparently, I was wrong.
"Yes… Excellent," I murmured, trying to give my uncle a smile. I was positive that it looked nothing like a smile. There was a beat of silence as everyone soaked up the previous conversation.
"Let's take our seats, Isabella," Rosalia whispered into my ear. I nodded, in a somewhat dazed state of mind as she led me over to our seats that were directly next to the Emperor's podium. I had a full view of the sand filled arena that was almost twenty feet below us. We were given a limited amount of shade due to the overhang above the Emperor's chair that intruded into our section, but we were certainly not complaining.
I was about to ask Rosalia how she had been, for the last time we had talked she spoke of possibly being with child when suddenly the blare of trumpets invaded the air. The ground beneath my feet shook with the roaring of the crowd in the arena.
From out behind a tall gate came two lines of at least twenty five men, their heads encased with shining helmets. The crowd raged around the stadium at the sight of their gladiators, but I could not fight down the ill feeling in my stomach.
The men all walked toward the podium that I sat next to, their heads held straight as they walked straight toward their death. When they had reached the center of the arena they turned toward my Uncle and all spoke in unison.
"We who are about to die salute you."
The words were met with the approval of the crowd however an icy shiver ran down my back. These men were about to die, murdered in front of all these people. Condemned for crimes that have not been properly justified, or perhaps they have. The death of these men were about to be celebrated. They were about to be met with the cheering of a crowd, waiting in earnest to see their blood be spilt upon the sand.
I have never before felt more disgusted with the people of Rome.
The Emperor stood up and nodded to the gladiators who stood below him. The trumpets began to play again and I knew that the games were about to begin.
I was startled when I felt Rosalia's hand grasp onto mine. I looked to her curiously.
"You are not the only one who despises certain customs of Rome," she whispered to me, almost silent. For some reason I took comfort in her words. I knew that I wasn't alone in thinking that the sport of men killing each other was barbaric.
The first to come out and fight were the Bestiarus, the gladiators that willingly fought against exotic animals.
The first man stepped out into the stadium just as a large cat was let loose from the other side of the stadium. The cat looked extremely angry as its hackles rose and it growled menacingly. The bestiarii hesitated, and then attacked with full force, his spear trying to jab at any flesh it could reach. I jumped as the cat pounced upon the man within only a minute.
The shouting in the arena was deafening as the lifeless body of the man lay underneath the cat that continued to tear at his body with its sharp claws. The sand now had a scarlet puddle lying on it. It was the first of many.
Over the course of the next hour, four more men had died at the claws of a great beast. As another man approached an enormous, gray skinned animal with a horn on top of its nose I turned to Rosalia.
"I feel so horribly for the animals," I told her. Delos clearly had overheard and let out a loud laugh.
"Oh, Isabella you are so amusing. You have been watching men die because of these beasts and yet you still take their side?" he asked me with a curious look. I merely shrugged and reached up to push a wayward strand of dark hair out of my face.
"Those men already knew they were going to die. Those animals have no idea what is going on. They are probably scared, and confused, and they are only acting out of instincts!" I countered against him. He gave me another odd look and then shook his head, settling back into his seat. I thought I heard him mutter something about the softness of a woman's heart. I huffed and settled into my own seat, averting my eyes just as the gladiator's spear lodged itself in the side of the animal.
Finally the animals were put back into their cages and eight or nine men stumbled out of the gate and into the arena, all very slight of build with neither anything in their hands to defend themselves nor any padding on their body. Surely my face could betray the horror I felt. Delos quickly leaned towards us and whispered, "They are only noxii, the slaves that have been condemned to die today. They aren't here to fight."
"And yet they are still going to die," I cut him off harshly. Delos did not look surprised by my comment and merely shrugged.
Suddenly the gates opened again and two horses stormed out into the arena. Their riders held spears aloft in their hands.
"This is so horrible," I whispered with wide eyes as the slaves all cowered together, trying to protect themselves. The men on the horses were obviously gladiators and they herded the slaves into a tight ball within only seconds.
The first man threw the spear and immediately killed one of the slaves. My heart began to pound in my ears as the rumble of the crowd grew larger and larger. It took only moments for the men on the horses to kill off all of the slaves, their bodies lying on the sand in pools of their own blood and the blood of others mixed together. Bile rose in my throat and I had to fight with the urge to purge my stomach of its contents.
The gladiators disappeared and the other slaves hurried into the arena to gather all of the bodies of the fallen me.
"I hope there will be an actual fight soon, these matches are horridly boring to watch," Delos sighed as he watched the bodies be dragged away. His wife looked at him sternly, however said nothing about it. Delos was just like any other citizen of Rome. Always ready to watch the spilling of another man's blood and murder as long as it turned out to be an interesting duel.
"Ah, here we go. A Dimachaerus against a Murmillo, this should be interesting enough," Delos said with a grin as he leaned forward to get a better look. I turned my eyes away from his gleeful face and stared down into the arena, only to lose all of my breath.
The Dimachaerus, held both of his swords aloft in a ready position, however he had minimal padding on only his forearms and shins, his tanned chest was left bare. From my spot I could see the shine that his sweat left, and most curious of all, I could see his hair. It was the strangest color I had ever seen. It shone under the high noon sunlight and was the exact color of polished bronze. My hands twitched slightly and the urge to touch the shining hair swelled within me.
Where on earth had that feeling come from? It was totally ridiculous.
I gathered my bearings again and watched the other gladiator, the Murmillo, step towards the bronze haired man. The Murmillo was more heavily armed and his helmet obscured his face from the word. Without warning, the two gladiators lunged at each other, the harsh sound of metal scraping and clanging against each other was drowned out by the roaring approval of the crowd.
My heart leapt into my throat without warning as I watched the two men attack each other in earnest. The bronze haired man had two swords on his side, but his opponent was clearly better armed. The swords crashed against each other, suddenly the Murmillo's sword nicked the bronze haired man's arm however this only seemed to make the bronze haired man attack more fiercely.
His blows to the other man were strong and knocked the Murmillo back a few paces with each clash. I found myself leaning forward to the edge of the balcony, my eyes locked on the scene in front of me. When the Murmillo suddenly gathered his strength he placed a well aimed kick on the Dimachaerus's chest and sent the bronze haired man to the sandy ground. I felt my breath leave my chest with a whoosh and I could not help but stand up to watch.
The bronze haired man quickly turned over to avoid the strike of the Murmillo's blade, and spun his legs in a way that tripped the Murmillo from behind, sending him to the ground also. The crowd cheered loudly, but the only thing I could hear was the beating of my heart. I watched as the bronze haired man quickly stood and then, without mercy, plunged one of his swords into the Murmillo's chest. I gasped and started at the vicious display, but I could not stop myself from feeling relieved for some reason.
What was happening to me? I should feel disgusted by what that man had just done!
And yet, I could not bring myself to feel that way. I was comforted by the fact that the bronze haired man was the one that the crowd was cheering for.
"That is how a gladiator should fight! Fantastic! Absolutely amazing," Delos stood up and began to shout as the rest of the crowd was. I felt my legs stand me up and I rested my palms on the balcony railing. I stared at the bronze haired man who neither waved at the crowd nor made any moves to collect his winnings that were being offered to him.
He only turned toward the Emperor's podium and bowed in respect. I watched my uncle Aro nod in acknowledgement, although I was positive that the bronze haired man could not see it from his spot. Without another glance, the bronze haired man walked back towards the gates, both of his swords hanging in his hands. From my spot I could not help but admire the broad expanse of his shoulders and the definition of the muscles of his arms.
"See something you like, my dear?" Rosalia teased me from her seat, seemingly unfazed by the bronze haired man's performance.
"Of course not," I said hastily as I gave her a pointed look, thankfully neither her husband, nor my father had heard the comment. I turned my eyes back to the arena however the bronze haired man had disappeared into the shadows that lay beyond the gate. As the crowd settled I sat back into my seat and new gladiators were brought out into the sunlight, but I could not focus on them at all.
My mind was still preoccupied with the bronze haired gladiator. I could picture how the lean muscles in his arms and back would move, or how his bronze hair would become disarray in the wind during the summer. I shook my head to clear it.
These were foolish thoughts. A gladiator was no better than a criminal. I should not delude myself into thinking that I would ever see the bronze haired man as anything but a murderer in the arena.
Besides, he's probably ugly. Oh yes… He most definitely had an unsightly face. And his mind was sure to only be full of thoughts of murder and blood.
Not even a shiver went through my body. Even I didn't believe my words, but there was no reason not to.
"Are you feeling alright, Isabella?" my father's worried voice broke through my haze. My wide eyes met his and I shook my head with a jerk.
"No, just a bit shocked with the brutality of it all," I murmured quietly. I could see a knowing look upon Rosalia's. I ignored it expertly.
"Perhaps we should leave early? You are looking flushed," my father continued while his brow pulled together.
"No!" I cried out hastily. Everybody gave me a curious look. I bit my lip and scrambled to cover up, "It would be disrespectful to Uncle Aro if we left early. I was very generous of him to offer seats in his box today. We couldn't let those go to waste," I quickly spoke. This seemed to appease everyone, and the men melted back into watching the fighting.
Rosalia searched my face.
"Yes?" I asked slowly. She shook her head.
"Nothing, my only suggestion is that you try not to be so obvious with your ogling," she smirked at me. I rolled my eyes at her comment. I was most definitely not ogling… Perhaps only a little bit. Either way, I suddenly found myself content to sit in the seats in the heat of the afternoon if it meant that I might catch another glimpse at the bronze haired fighter.
The day continued and I was slowly losing the hope that I would see the Dimachaerus with bronze hair again. I slouched in my seat, my hands rubbing absently along the material of my sola. My hair had fallen out of its intricate design and more than half of the strands were hanging around my face in gentle curls. The crowd began to cheer loudly again and I rolled my eyes at them. Didn't they ever get tired of cheering for death?
Rosalia tapped my arm frantically.
"Isabella, look," she whispered urgently. I sat up straight again and felt my heart swell in my chest as my eyes locked on the same head of bronze hair. My bronze haired gladiator!
No! Not mine.
How could I even think something so foolish?
Despite my internal thoughts raging war on each other, my eyes did not leave the gladiator as he faced off with another called a Secutor who carried a shield as well as a sword. The duel began just as violently as the first however I could see the flaw of the Secutor who continued to throw all of his weight into every slash. The bronze haired gladiator struck him in the side, and then parried out of the way as the Secutor moved to strike. The bronze haired man moved behind him and slid one of his swords through the Secutor's body while the other one quickly cut the head off of him.
I was utterly speechless.
The man's head rolled on the ground as his body dropped heavily onto the sand. I covered my mouth with my hand. I was going to be sick, but not because of how awful the gladiator was. It was the sight of the blood squirting out of the dead Secutor's neck that made my stomach twist with illness.
Everyone in the amphitheater stood and roared at the bronze haired man.
The Emperor stood up from his seat. I watched with wide eyes as he walked over to me and held out his hand.
"Rome would like to see their new Empress giving the champions their prizes," he said to me with a smile that seemed to make me feel just as queasy as the killing.
I knew I had no room to deny him. Taking his cold, veined hand, I stood and walked with him down into the arena. As we walked onto the sand I noticed that the other victorious gladiators had joined the bronze haired man. My heart pounded at a great speed within my ribs as I got closer and closer to the bronze haired man.
From several meters away I could see him much more clearly, and my heart began to sink. He most definitely did not have an unsightly face.
The Emperor stopped a few feet away from the line of men, who all bowed respectively. A slave I had not noticed before suddenly appeared on my right with a silver tray that held six palm branches upon it. My uncle let go of my hand and looked to the fighters as the Coliseum went quiet, everyone wanting to hear his words.
"You all have fought valiantly. Your lives have been spared for another day. I present your tokens of victory," he called out. The crowd began to yell in encouragement. I had managed to keep my eyes trained on my feet, however my uncle touched my arm gently, "Isabella, would you do the honor?" he asked me.
My mouth went dry and my eyes widened. Surely he was joking.
The look he gave me clearly said that he was not.
I slowly stepped forward toward the victors, the slave with the tray stayed to my left and slightly behind me. I stepped to the first man and reached for a palm branch with a shaky hand.
"For your victory," I said with a small nod, my eyes never meeting his. The man took the palm as I moved on to the next man.
On the fifth man I felt my hands begin to tingle. The bronze haired man was only a step away from me. As I gave the fifth man his branch I moved in front of the bronze haired man. With a deep breath I moved my eyes up from the ground.
I followed the tanned feet bound in leather sandals, up to firm, and tan thighs, obviously well muscled. His hips were lean and thin and his bare chest showed his chiseled abdominal muscles that were covered in sweat and sand. His broad shoulders led into a strong neck and a sharp jaw. Slightly cracked lips with a small amount of blood on them, high cheekbones and a straight nose and finally his eyes. Oh Gods, his eyes were beautiful! They were a stunning shade of green that reminded me of the leaves in the summer and his dirty and messy bronze hair was wet with perspiration.
Heat surged through every part of my body. It felt as though I had been lit on fire.
He was beautiful! Surely he was a God. No mortal could ever hold such perfection!
"For your victory," I said in barely a whisper as I reached for the palm and held it out for the man to take. His eyes burned into mine with an intensity that left me breathing heavily. Never had anyone had this kind of effect on my body.
"Thank you," he whispered, and his voice was just as sweet and rich as the honey I'd had this morning. His large, dirty, and calloused hands reached for the palm and took it from my hand, slightly brushing the skin of my fingers. I could not stop the humming and buzzing sensation that occurred in the same place his skin had touched mine.
His eyes searched mine, as if he was trying to find something.
What are you looking for? I wondered to myself.
I realized I had just been staring at this man, and I quickly turned and found my place next to my uncle again who quickly took my hand in his own once more.
The crowd shouted and roared in approval as the victors bowed and waved to the crowd, but not the bronze haired gladiator. Instead he kept his shining green eyes trained on my face, and I could not help but look back at him. There was something in his eyes that made me want to believe that he was better than the condemned criminal society had made him.
This man was not who he appeared to be.
"Come, Isabella, I must return you to your father," Aro said to me in a slightly harsher voice than before as he tugged my hand and pulled me away from the gladiator.
As we walked out of the arena, I could still feel his spring colored eyes on my back.
Once we reached the Emperor's podium I found Rosalia and gripped onto her arm tightly. She held onto me just as tightly, knowing exactly what I was thinking at that moment.
I blushed at the idea of anybody knowing what my thoughts were right now.
Images of the bronze haired gladiator's muscles rippled in his back as he pulled off a tunic, his arms flexing as he swung his swords with the accuracy of an expert. His neck taught and his jaw clenched as he concentrated. His green eyes dark with emotion as he poised himself above me…
No! I should not be thinking things like this about a man who will die within the next week… But still, I had seen everything in such detail that I found it hard to bring myself back to the bustle of the Coliseum.
"Let us get you home," Rosalia whispered to me reassuringly then turned to the men, "The heat has gotten to her, she must rest."
I had never been more thankful for my friendship with Rosalia. She understood the value of keeping a secret and this one surely wasn't to be told to my father.
Delos asked if I needed help to walk. I shook my head, not daring to use my voice because I knew it would shake as my hands still did.
We walked through the mass of people out into the streets again. The Forum was positively filled with people although the sun was starting to set. Rosalia guided me through the people until we had finally arrived at the house.
Without another word I detached myself from Rosalia and walked silently to my room. I did not care if I missed supper, for I was positive my stomach would not hold any contents with the afternoon's images fresh in my mind.
The only thing I seemed to be capable of was thinking of the bronze haired gladiator. The one that seemed so beautiful, he must have been a God.
I stripped off my stola and dropped it to the floor, taking out the pins in my hair as I walked over to the vanity. My shoes were also taken off and I slipped under the cotton blankets upon my bed. The setting sun came in through the archway that led to the balcony. The light was golden and red and it fell upon my blankets in warm rays.
My thoughts stayed on only my gladiator.
Only of how he had seemingly awoken more feelings inside of me than any other person I had ever known and I had barely spoken a word to him. I had never seen this man before, but for some reason, it felt as if I had known him since birth. He gave off such a masculine vibe that for once I felt delicate and womanly and beautiful from the way he had stared at me with such clear eyes.
I was not sure how long my thoughts went one.
I had no idea when my eyes had finally closed because my dreams were also filled with the man with bronze hair. However, these thoughts were wicked, although they did not seem so wrong when they involved him.
His skin against mine.
His hot breath in my ear, on my chest, against my lips.
His hard muscle against my soft curves.
Calloused warm hands entwined with delicate, small ones.
Our bodies moving in tandem, his weight felt delicious atop my body, and the feelings he pulled from my flesh felt heavenly. I felt wanted, and beautiful, full of passion, and safe.
Alas, it was only a dream…
A/N: And thus, Gladiatorward is born :) I hope you all enjoyed it and there weren't too many mistakes *crosses fingers* Please don't forget to review, and if you have any criticism, please be gentle. This is my first fanfic and I am certainly not claiming to be perfect. I'll most likely update on the weekends, cause frankly, this chapter was fucking long and my hands fucking cramped up Several Times. Also… I may just put a lemon in the next chapter if this story gets a lot of feedback… Alright… That's about it… I'll see you…. Later?
~Artemis Psyche
Terminology for this chapter:
Stola – a long tunic that usually reached the ground, could either have short sleeves or be sleeveless.
Forum – The market place for upper class citizens of Rome, also a place to see plays and other entertainment.
Subura - The part of Rome where the poverty stricken population lived, usually very unsafe, especially at night.
Noxii – A slave condemned to die in the arena.
Bestiarii – Gladiators that fought against wild animals.
Murmillo – A gladiator with a helmet that had a fish-like crest, and was heavily armed.
Dimachaerus – A gladiator that held two swords. (nicknamed "Provocator" which meant "challenger")
Secutor – A gladiator with an elaborate helmet, an oblong shield, and a sword.
