A Thousand Laughs and Tears
Commodus was not always bitter. In fact, he used to be one of the kindest souls that Rome ever knew. He loved deeply once, laughed as if there was no worry in all the world. His tongue was sweet and tender, not cold and harsh. This is the story of Commodus and Augusta, and their doomed love that would change him forever.
Chapter One
"Tell me, dear Augusta, if it has been longer than a thousand years since we met last."
It was half a question and half a statement, told by a voice of water and sand. Commodus smirked jokingly at his own words. It was for his wordplay that he was admired, but he saved some of his most clever words for Augusta.
"Has it truly been longer? To me it feels like a millennium. When you left me yesterday I could have sworn I grew older. I spent all that time outside, in the sun, and when the sun sank over the horizon, I basked in the equally sweltering heat of the moon."
When Augusta's lips stretched into a smile, Commodus kept going.
"And look at me now, browned and burnt! I really must have spent a millennium waiting for thee; that is longer than an era of rulings in the Empire! Oh, Augusta, it has been an eternity since I could look upon thy face."
Augusta laughed warmly. "Yes, my lord, it has for me as well, your Augusta." She secured his face in between her hands. His cheeks were hot from the sun, but she knew Commodus produced a heat that was all his own.
Commodus lapped her hands with his tongue.
"Never call me that," he whispered.
He continued to place kisses on her hands.
"You know my name."
And, moving her fingers on top of his lips, he mouthed it for her to feel.
Commodus.
"Commodus," she corrected herself, and she felt a surge of emotion. "But you are the heir to a great ruler, Marcus Aurelius."
"Yes, my girl, but alas, the love I have for him does not replace- and can never replace- the one I have for you."
He pulled her head on his broad shoulders. He closed his eyes, and, mustering all the love he had, asked:
"Do you love me?"
Augusta, lacking any doubt, answered:
"I love you, with more love than my heart can hold."
At that, Commodus swayed in happiness.
"Do you deny me, Commodus?"
The prince shook his head. "No, on the contrary, I know that you speak the truth." His voice was muffled, as he had buried himself in her robes.
Clasping his arms around her waist, he kneeled in front of his lover. He pressed the side of his head onto her chest; like a wounded child he begged for comfort, for relief. "Is something the matter?" said Augusta, weaving Commodus' thick black curls through her fingers.
"No."
He grinned up at her. "I was only wondering…if ever my father loved me."
There was a silence.
"And you…I think you have shown me more love than my own father. What is a prince, if he desires the simplicity over royalty? His name over his title?"
"Your father does love you, I am sure of it. And you are a prince who loves a woman, that's all."
"A very regal woman at that," Commodus added.
He laughed. It was a deep rumble that resounded from his throat. A laugh that washed away all pain, all grief, and filled the cracks of sadness with joy. A laugh so pure, so innocent, that all plagues were forgotten. And the Gods envied him, for this handsome mortal had been born with the ability to make them swoon.