I entered a fic into the Twelfth Precinct Halloween competition underneath the same name, but I had to cut it quite dramatically in order for it to fit into the word limit. Now that the competition is over, I'm reposting it with all the scenes that I wanted to include but couldn't because of time constraints. So many of these scenes will feel familiar, however, bear with me because many have had minor extensions, and there are some new scenes all together.
This is pretty radically different than the stuff I usually post, but please, give it a chance :)
A massive thank you to AnniexMuller, without whom, this idea never would have been coaxed out of my brain, and for being a constant source of wisdom and encouragement (and the occasional catty DM over Twitter), and to the lovely Tadpole24 for being my grammar Nazi.
Just a little bit of context before we begin.
Samhain was the ancient Celtic celebration of the New Year. It was believed on this night that the veils between this world and the Otherworld (the supernatural world) were thinnest, and the dead could make contact with the living. This celebration was Christianised, and eventually became the modern holiday Halloween.
Aquae Sulis is current day Bath in England. Historically, I don't know that Romans ever banned the practice of local religion (if anything, I think it was encouraged), but can we please ignore that minor detail in favour of the plot? ;)
I've Celtised the names where possible... Meaning Kate's full name is Caitlin, Johanna has become Siobhan, and Papa Jim is now Seamus. Castle has also been Romanised to Castus (and yes, I do know it means chaste... I saw the irony, okay?)
I fully confess to owning NOTHING!
Something was afoot. It was nothing that anybody could put a name to, but the entire town of Aquae Sulis was buzzing with tension. The city was at fever pitch, and Kate could feel the pressure as she wandered the streets.
"We must celebrate Samhain!"
Kate froze. She spun on her heels, and looked into the face of one of her dearest companions. "Kevin!" she snarled. "Are you trying to get us both killed?"
Grabbing him by the ear, she pulled him off the main street into an alleyway. "Kevin, you know as well as I do that Brutus has forbad us from practicing," she growled, barely suppressing a shiver. The Celts and Romans had lived in peace for generations, until Titus Cornelius Brutus had been granted leadership of the town from Rome. His first action as governor had been to prohibit the practice of Celtic spirituality. Kate's mother; the chief druidess, had been beaten and quartered in the town square for casting lots and reading what the bones foretold.
Samhain hadn't been celebrated in three years.
"The people are on the brink of madness, Kate. If we do not appease our Ancestors, I fear they will raze the town to the ground," Kevin warned her.
Kate sighed heavily, "And what can I do about this?"
"Kate, we all know you've been sneaking away to contact your mother every Samhain's Eve. You're our druid. Do your duty and stand up to Brutus."
"Attempting to contact my mother," Kate muttered. Her lips twisted into a wry grin. "I haven't been gifted with the Second Sight."
"None the less, Kate. You've made your offerings to the Otherworld. Your family is safe. The rest of us are not so lucky," Kevin looked at her with wide, imploring eyes. "Go to Brutus. Make him see reason. We must celebrate, or the town will burn."
"The man hates me," Kate warned him. "But I will do what I can," she promised.
"That is all we ask," Kevin answered. He mussed her braided hair, before she dug her elbow into his ribs and led him back onto the streets.
"Now, what exactly does a returned war hero do in a time of peace?" Kate asked teasingly as she wandered through the markets, gently fingering delicately woven cloth and smiling at the local artisans.
Kevin puffed his chest up, his lime bleached beard glinting in the sunlight. "They drink mead and drag the prettiest girls into their bed, of course."
Kate rolled her eyes. She knew as well as the whole town did that Kevin only had eyes for his wife, a petite and pale little thing, whose belly was made round with Kevin's child.
Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted him. Lucius Rabirius Castus. A poet, Roman born, having made his way to Aquae Sulis by roads of Port Magnus, Gaul and Cornwall. A look across the town square was all she could afford him. If Brutus were aware of their clandestine romance, Castus's head would be cleaved from his shoulders before she could say Minerva.
A high-pitched wailing echoed through the air of the town. Women frantically grabbed their children, men's hands dropped to the hilts of their swords, and Kate heard more than one townsperson mutter the word "banshee".
Ignoring the chaos, Kate stepped forward to investigate. Alexis, Castus's beautiful, sweet daughter, loved by Romans and Celts alike; was curled into a ball, tearing at her hair and scratching her arms, keening hysterically and begging for it all to go away, all the while pleading for her father.
Behind her, Kevin swore loudly. "Kate, she has the Sight," he hissed.
Kate hastened forward. The girl's fit would do nothing to allay the townsfolk, especially so close to Samhain. They would all see it as an attempt from the Otherworld to break into theirs.
Kate looked over at Castus, who was frozen in shock. She shook her head, indicating silently for him to turn tail and run home. "Child!" Kate addressed her comfortingly, desperately trying not to show her haste, or any sense of familiarity. "Child, you must calm yourself." Kate grabbed the girl, wrapping her arms around her from behind, crushing the girl's slight frame to her own. Kate shushed her quietly, whispering to her soothingly in the rolling tongue of the Celtic people. "Come on," she whispered, as the girl's breathing slowly reduced to shuddering gasps.
"Please, take me to my father," Alexis pleaded.
"Of course. Come along," Kate directed.
Kate could feel the eyes of the entire town on them as they made their way toward the Roman quarter of the town. She was mere steps away from the door to the Castus homestead when she heard bellows from Roman soldiers.
"Keep walking, Alexis. I'll fend them off," Kate whispered fiercely, shoving her towards her doorstep. She turned to face the centurions, wishing she'd strapped her dagger to her hip rather than to her ankle. "You will not touch that girl," Kate growled.
"The girl was practicing sorcery. You know what the punishment is," The centurion answered.
"You have absolutely no proof of that," Kate responded; stepping into the middle of the footpath, ready to face off with the soldiers. She was roughly shoved aside, her head smashing against the cobblestone path. The last thing she was aware of as she faded into unconsciousness was Alexis being dragged away by her long red hair, Castus's screams ringing in her ears.
Kate came to with a groan. She gingerly touched her hairline, her nimble fingers inspecting the damage to her skull. The gash wasn't that deep.
"Castus, I am so sorry."
Castus ceased his pacing. He knelt before the chaise where Kate lay, his face white.
"Don't apologise," He soothed her. "It was foolish for Alexis to wander the town alone so close to the New Year."
"I should have protected her," Kate insisted.
"That wound on your head suggests you did all you could," Castus argued.
Kate brushed her fingers through his hair, nibbling on her lip. "Why didn't you tell me she was a Seer?" She eventually asked.
Castus sighed. He pressed a kiss to her cheekbone. "Her mother was Cornish," he began.
"Explains that red hair," Kate interjected, trying desperately to say something to smooth the crease on Castus's brow.
"Indeed," Castus agreed, fiddling with one of the beads woven into Kate's braids. "She died in childbirth four years ago. My son, too. Soon after, Alexis had her first vision. It scared the life out of me," Castus explained. "We came to this town because of you. Alexis had a vision that involved you," He ran a hand through his hair.
"So you just packed up your life and moved?"
"Alexis was insistent. She was adamant that meeting you would change the course of history."
"And then you arrived, nearly four years ago to the day," Kate murmured, shifting to sit up, ignoring the wave of nausea that hit her as she moved.
"I did. And I fell in love with you the second I saw you,"
Kate rolled her eyes. "Liar," she teased. She leant forward, pressing a kiss to his lips. "Even if I manage to free her, there's no way you can stay here. You have to leave."
"Kate, no. We'll find some other way," Castus argued.
She rested her forehead against his. "Castus, there is no other way. I will not allow that man to take your daughter from you," Her voice hitched. "Besides, you've met me already. I'm sure history will still be changed," her hand slipped through his hair. "Don't worry, I'll still let you write me those poems from the other side of the Empire," She teased, referring to the epic tales he wrote of a Celtic woman-cum-goddess, whom Kate insisted seemed a little bit too extraordinary to be real. She let her eyes slip closed, trying to grasp the threads of an idea and pull them together into a plan that might actually be achievable.
"Castus, I have an idea," Kate announced.
"What do you need me to do?" Castus demanded.
"Nothing." Kate pressed a finger to his lip, silencing his protests. "Castus, for this to work, you must have nothing to do with it. If I'm caught, it will be justified as the rebel Druid helping a fellow sorceror. They must never know that I'm only helping her because I'm your lover."
"Kate, please," Castus begged.
Kate shook her head and stood up. "I cannot tell you. Just trust me, please." She bent over and kissed him. "I have to go."
Kate knelt before the large oak box at the end of the bed. She hadn't dared touch a thing contained within for three years. She had known since she could walk that one day she would become the Druid leader of her people, but she'd certainly never anticipated that such an honour would be bestowed on her in the midst of such violence. Brutus's iron thumb had meant she'd never truly had to step into her role as a leader, but it was high time she stopped neglecting her obligations and stood up to the Roman invaders.
Kate opened the trunk.
She carefully pulled out her mother's clothing.
Kate shed her own dress, laying it aside with her cloak. She stood nude, shivering slightly in the cool air. She twisted her hair free of the complicated braids that marked her movement into adulthood. Kate moved to stand by the blazing fire, dipping a cloth into a bowl of hot water. She scrubbed herself top to toe, using liberal amounts of soap.
She redressed, pulling on the dress that denoted her status and carefully rebraided her hair, weaving beads into the tresses. Kate made certain to put on every piece of her mother's jewellery. She wanted her family's wealth clearly on display, as well as marking herself unquestionably as a proud Druid.
"Katie girl, I hope you know what you're doing."
Kate turned to look at her father, leaning against the doorframe. A war hero, Seamus's body bore all the marks of battle; proud stature in a broken body.
"I am tired of Brutus's reign of terror," Kate replied primly, slipping rings onto her fingers.
"Katie, I might be old, and I might spend more time at the tavern than is respectable, but don't think I'm blind."
"I have no idea what you're talking about," Kate responded, desperately hoping her father was waxing lyrical after too much mead.
"Do not delude yourself into thinking I don't know about what is happening between you and Castus. Caitlin, you know the law better than anyone," Seamus grizzled. His pale eyes bore into Kate's. "Brutus already sees you as a troublemaker. Do not give him a reason to take your head too."
"I am doing my duty," Kate insisted.
"Do not mistake duty with weakness for the man you allow to warm your bed," Seamus snarled.
"He is far more than that, Father," Kate finally snapped. "I love him. I love him the way you loved my mother." She felt tears well in her eyes, but she refused to shed them. "Don't think she didn't tell me the stories. Her father didn't want her marrying a warrior. She was expected to wed within her own class. She refused. So don't lecture me about marrying within of my own standing. You hardly set the example." She draped her speckled cloak around her, knotting it with a brass buckle.
"I am going to stand for my people."
"You must let the people celebrate Samhain," Kate growled as she crossed the threshold into Brutus's villa.
"Must I?" He sneered. His shock at seeing Kate dressed in the traditional garb of a Druid couldn't be censored.
"Have you walked the streets? The town is on the brink of insanity. If you do not allow them to honour their ancestors, they will burn the town to the ground."
Kate rested her hands on the arms of Brutus's chair, moving so her face was inches from his. "Do not make the mistake of believing that because the Romans seized control of this town that we have been broken. We are a warrior people. Any one of my kind would sooner tear open your throat with their teeth than pay tribute to Rome."
"Do you really believe that hollowing out turnips and throwing bones on a bonfire will keep you safe?" Brutus scoffed.
"There has been no edict from Rome prohibiting traditional worship," Kate snapped, suddenly grateful that her mother had insisted she receive a Roman education. "The people of the town you govern will raze the village to dust if you continue to deny them liberty. How will that reflect on your record in Rome?"
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