A/N: This is my first story, so I hope it's okay! It might be a little bit slow starting but, I'm just introducing things.
Disclaimer: I do not own Glee.
Saying that Rome was one of the greatest empires that the world had seen, was an understatement; in my opinion, it was the greatest empire ever. And I stay true to that belief even after what it did to us, well, what he did to us. And who's 'he'?
Emperor Nero Claudius Caesar Augustus Germanicus, that's who, or as we called him, just plain Nero. He's dead now, suicide, but that doesn't mean what he did disappeared, it had a lasting effect on our lives, and none of us will forget it in a hurry.
It was the year I met Jeff that everything changed. I sometimes wonder how different my life might have been if we'd never met; I wonder whether I'd be here at all if it wasn't for him.
I can see him now, smiling at me, and that's when I'm reminded that despite all that we lost, we still have each other.
The city of Rome was the centre of the Roman Empire, with a population of over a million people; it housed the seat of the government and the Emperor himself. From here the Romans looked out upon their world, stretching as far as they could imagine.
The heart of daily Roman life was in the Forum, where markets selling anything that the inhabitants could ever desire were held, and also where the world came to greet each other. The sheer noise of this place was overwhelming, as vendors announced their wares and citizens called to their friends.
The din of the Forum was added to by the constant clatter of cart wheels over the cobbled streets that criss-crossed the city and the sound of shop shutters swinging in the wind. In fact, if Rome ever fell silent, it would be a dark day for the city and the empire itself.
Across the city, the temples of the gods kept watch over all of the people. From the Temple of Apollo on the Palatine Hill to the Temple of Jupiter, citizens passed by as they did everyday, the occasional worshipper entering to pay their respects or leave an offering.
In the streets themselves, the citizens went about their daily morning business. Men hurried to greet their patrons, while shopkeepers dealt with their first customers. Children and animals played in the streets, narrowly avoiding slaves who had been sent out on early morning errands.
It was average day for most of the population of the city, but for one household it was the day in which their lives would be changed forever; affecting not just them, but the people around them as well.
Nick was bored.
He'd been woken up early by his mother in her insistence that he thank the household gods as soon as the sun rose just because it was his birthday. He was sure that nobody else had that sort of ritual in place, but if he was honest, his mother had probably done more out of the belief that he was being lazy of he didn't get up, rather than her desire to please the deities.
Ever since he'd been little, Nick had known his mother to be the way that she was now: cold and condescending. She seemed to hold the belief that children were raised better if they had almost no loving contact; the only love Nick had ever really known had been from his nurse when he had been very small. For the past few years, he was being shaped into the man that his parents wanted him to become.
The man his parents wanted him to become.
Nick loathed even the thought of it. His parents had a lot of expectations of him; they wanted him to become a soldier, then a senator, all while settling down, marrying and continuing their family line. All of his life, his decisions had been controlled by his parents, and he wanted to break free, to be his own person for once.
Nick's greatest dream was to become a poet. He'd read all of the works of the greatest Greek and Roman writers, and ever since his teacher had commended him on his literary skill, he'd been composing his own pieces.
But today was a great milestone for him; it was his seventeenth birthday, and the day in which his father was judging him to be old enough to be a man. But was he a man, yet? Nick certainly didn't feel like an adult properly, and a part of him still longed for his childhood, and the feeling of being so young and carefree.
He'd spent the majority of his childhood playing in the streets surrounding his home with Sebastian and Wes, whose fathers were also senators like his own father. The more Nick thought about it, the stranger his friendship with Sebastian seemed. In fact, if they hadn't been forced to be friends in the first place, Nick reckoned that Sebastian wouldn't have even spared him a second glance.
Sebastian's father was one of the most powerful men in Rome, second only to the Emperor himself, and he'd raised Sebastian on the belief that their family should be superior to every other one. If Nick was honest, the first time he'd met Sebastian, he'd had to restrain himself from loudly declaring, as four year olds do, that the other boy was the meanest person he'd ever met. And since Nick's first memory of Sebastian was of the older boy kicking him in the shins and telling him that he was better at everything, Nick imagined that if he hadn't have gotten to know Sebastian properly, then he would still hold the same opinion as his four year old self.
He and Sebastian had a bit of a love-hate friendship. When Nick had excitedly announced to Sebastian on his fourteenth birthday that he had finally grown three inches, Sebastian had replied:
"Congratulations, at this rate you actually might be taller than whoever your parents have you marry."
To which Nick had grinned, thanked Sebastian profoundly, and then remarked that at least he would never be mistaken for a meerkat.
Nick's friendship with Wes, however, was of an entirely different genre. Wes was three years old than Nick, and the pair had met when the older boy had defended Nick from a group of bullies who had been taunting him in the street.
Ever since that occurrence, the two had been close friends, Wes' protective and calm nature providing a balance to Nick's quick temper and more impulsive nature, while both of them counterbalanced Sebastian.
The three of them made a nice little team, in Nick's mind, one that had only been strengthened by the subsequent appearance of David, who had quickly been asserted as Wes' right hand man.
Nick knew he shouldn't be so ungrateful for his life and his family, both his parents were alive and he had a house to live in, with slaves and an abundance of money. There were people in the world with so much less than him, Nick knew that, but he couldn't help feeling as though something was missing completely in his life. If anyone had asked what it was, he wouldn't have been able to tell them, but it just felt like something was wrong and incomplete.
Little did Nick know that the missing something, or somebody, would be making an appearance in his life very soon.
Jeff didn't know how long he'd been on the boat; it could have been between a few hours and a few days for all he could guess. He'd slept intermittently ever since they'd first boarded, but he had no idea how long he'd been asleep nor whether it was night or day.
He wanted to roll over and sit up, maybe stretch a bit to soothe his aching back and legs, but every time he tried, he was rewarded with the reminder that he was attached by a chain to the man next to him.
Then, he'd remember why he was onboard this voyage in the first place and he'd feel tears brimming. But he couldn't cry, not in front of all these other people, he couldn't appear weak at all, otherwise everything would be worse for him.
He almost laughed aloud when that thought occurred to him. How could anything get any worse? He was lying alone on the cold wooden floor of a Roman slave ship, waiting for the moment that the slave dealers would drag them all up to the deck and into the port.
Never in all of his seventeen years could Jeff have ever imagined that he'd be being shipped off to Rome as a slave.
As a slave.
Jeff still hadn't got his head around the fact that he was no longer a free person; it was a concept he'd never had to deal with before. Coming from a small agricultural village in southern Italy, he'd grown up with freedom practically at his fingertips, and now he was struggling to imagine a life without it. In fact, it had been a concept that he'd always believed in, he remembered his mother always saying to him:
"Freedom isn't a choice, Jeff, it's a right, and no one can take it away from you."
Jeff almost laughed aloud at that thought, how wrong his mother had been, and how ironic it was that she'd said it to him that morning. The morning that they had come…
No. He wasn't even going to think about that now. He was going to focus on the positive memories that he still had. No one could take them away from him.
When he thought about it, his earliest memory wasn't at all clear; it was more a distinct smell that he could remember. Ah yes, the smell of his mother cooking fresh bread after the harvest.
Harvest had probably been Jeff's favourite time of year. It was the time when everybody in his community had come together to work in the fields, and Jeff enjoyed that feeling of belonging to something.
He'd been five years old when his father had first let him join the rest of the men in the field, and he'd probably been a complete nuisance. When he wasn't needed to run errands, he tagged along behind his older brother, trying to keep up with the older boys, even when they told him to go away.
Jeff had never minded the fact that the older boys didn't want him around, in fact, he'd never minded not having many friends at all. He'd stayed at home a lot, helping his mother when his father didn't need him, and, when he was younger, playing with his brother in the fields. No, Jeff had never found that he'd needed friends, maybe that was for the best, because he'd have to be leaving them now anyway, wouldn't he?
No, he'd told himself not to think about that. Happy memories, that was what he should be thinking about, like the summer that a group of traders had passed through. They'd come across from Alexandria, via Greece, carrying exotic animals for Rome that had been bought in Egypt. The animals had been nothing like any of the ones that Jeff usually saw, and although he couldn't remember what any of them were called, he would always remember the way that one of them had growled menacingly at everyone who came near it. It had become a sort of game for the children, to see who could get the closest to the animal before it growled at them and scared them away.
In retrospect, Jeff realised, he had won that game. He'd actually found it quite therapeutic to sit and talk to the strange animal, and after a few days, the animal stopped growling at him, and just regarded him sadly.
Nobody ever believed him when he'd told them that, but when had they ever believed half of the things that he said?
"Jeff made that up."
"Jeff has an overactive imagination."
Those were just a few things that he'd heard people saying about him the past. His parents had always fervently denied any knowledge that people had that sort of opinion about him, but he knew that they were just trying to protect him.
They'd always been trying to protect him. But from what? Jeff knew now, they'd been trying to protect him from the reality of life itself, the trials and the tribulations that he'd have to face. He'd always been regarded as the fragile child in comparison to his brother, but Jeff had never really felt fragile in any way, he knew in his own heart and mind that he wasn't fragile, but he'd never done anything to dispel the illusion.
Why was he thinking about this now? He was only supposed to be remembering the good memories. But why try and shy away from these thoughts? They were the truth after all.
And, for the first time since he had boarded the ship, Jeff considered the possibility that life in a city would be good for him.
A/N: Please review and tell me what you think!