A/N: I apologize for the wait. It's been been a busy week, and I probably already devote more time to fanfiction than I should. To Sanguiopsaurum, who anonymously reviewed, I wanted to say I appreciated your little nerdy moment, haha. While I am familiar with the vocative case (been taking Latin for over seven years now lol) it didn't register that Jane was the vocative form of Janus when I decided to use it - so look at that. Jane actually is a Latin word after all ;)


Chapter IV


Maura watched the beams of sunlight shimmer against the stone floor as the light filtered in through the bedroom window. Her gaze rested ahead, her eyes unblinking, her form unmoving, as she had been for the past few hours. Her body ached with an insatiable exhaustion, as if her energy had been permanently drained. It was an ugly sort of hopelessness that ate away at her, one that made her long for the determination she had once stubbornly held on to. But with so little less to fight for, she found herself wasting away into uselessness.

She heard a gentle knock at the door, though the noise did little to rouse her. Her eyes remained heavy and motionless, her body sunk deep into the straw mattress, as if a solid rock pinned her down. The door creaked open, yet she still did not respond, watching as a pair of sandaled feet shuffled into her line of vision.

"Maura." The voice held a hint of familiarity, and she felt her body sink deeper into the straw filled mattress as the woman sat on the edge of her bed, letting out a heavy sigh. Maura's breathing remained slow and shallow, her eyes watering slightly when she became conscious that she could not remember when she had last blinked.

"Are you hungry?" the woman tried again. Maura curled her fingers around the blanket every so slightly, slowly coaxing her stiffness away. She blinked a few times, keeping her eyelids shut for a moment before she heaved herself up from the mattress, her head pounding as the blood began to circulate once again. Feeling dazed, she blinked a few more times, curling her knees to her chest as she turned to face the woman.

She appeared to be around her own mother's age, with bits of grey beginning to sprinkle her caramel brown hair and wrinkles beginning to crease around her eyes. She was dressed modestly in a coarse woolen stola and a pale brown palla draped over her shoulders. Maura looked down at her own attire, a light, silky stola that was wrinkled from the handful of days she had worn it without changing. It smelled faintly of sweat, as did her hair, which she noticed as the fingered the matted tendrils, realizing just how desperately she needed to bathe. The effort seemed so great, and she wondered why she couldn't bring herself to care.

"I'm not hungry." The words sounded strange as she spoke, her voice vibrating through her throat. When was the last time she had spoken? She had answered her mother when necessary, but her days had been filled with pensive silence. She no longer drew countless facts out of her mind, eager to share her knowledge of the world around her. Her eyes no longer lit up when she could apply the endless information she'd read and studied to the world around her. Her spark of ingenuity was gone, and instead she felt content to waste away.

"You should eat." It was not an argument but more of a gentle coaxing. Maura's eyes darted to the woman's lap, noticing a tray with a small assortment of food.

Maura brought her hand up to her face, tracing her gaunt cheekbone. She wondered what she looked like right now, her body emaciated from neglect. She curled her knees into her chest, tracing her tongue against her lips. The woman held up a slice of pita bread, gently nudging it in Maura's direction. Maura accepted it after much deliberation, letting the small weight of the bread rest in her hand. She still did not eat.

"Did your mother tell you why she brought you here?" the woman spoke, her eyes creasing with worry.

Maura looked down at the bread in her grasp, tracing the coarse texture with her thumb. She nodded. "We received word that my father encountered trouble with one of the British chieftains. He feared for my safety, so my mother brought me here," she spoke carefully. The situation had come about so suddenly that Maura had not had any time to protest their departure, and her mother's elaboration had been sparse. "How do you know my mother?" she questioned suddenly, curious about the answer her mother had failed to provide.

"She did not tell you?" the woman spoke, and Maura could not tell if she were surprised or not.

"She only told me that she intended to bring me somewhere safe. I know that she grew up in Ostia, but I did not realize that she still had ties here." Maura let out a small breath as she finished speaking, her jaw feeling slightly sore from use. It had been months since she had engaged in a conversation this extensive, and she found the effort tiring.

"Eat your bread, and I will tell you," the woman spoke encouragingly, waiting until Maura brought it to her lips. She chewed softly, the bland taste sticking in her mouth as she forced herself to swallow.

"Your mother and I suckled from the same breast – I was born just three days before her, so my mother was chosen to be her wet nurse," the woman began as Maura continued to eat, feeling the bread settle into her empty stomach. "I was given to Constantina as her personal slave, to tend to her every need. I fixed her hair, helped her dress, accompanied her to the baths – we grew up as close as sisters, despite our differing social standings. Though your mother was upright and proper, she was free-spirited. She thirsted for knowledge and craved companionship - and though I was not a friend, we had inevitably become close.

"Your mother, she loved art more than anything, as I imagine you know very well. She was quite skilled at sketching and painting – and when she had to opportunity to sculpt, she made exquisite pieces. But your mother did not always wish to paint a garden or a city street or perhaps any scene deemed appropriate for a high born lady," here the woman paused, her cheeks turning a little pink. "She often had me shed my clothing so she could paint me. I was always vulnerable, but she taught me confidence as she longed to explore the feminine form in her artwork – I'm sorry," she apologized, her cheeks still pink. "You don't need to know all these things, but I suppose I got caught up in the memory of it all. It has been years since I have seen Constantina, and seeing her last night reminded me of a life I'd almost forgotten about."

Maura, intrigued by hearing about her elusive mother's youth, had clung onto every word, almost disappointed when the woman ceased her tale. The bread in her hand was nearly gone, and she found herself eyeing the plump grapes that decorated the tray, her mouth dry from the sour bread. "If you were her slave, then why did you remain here in Ostia?"

The woman smiled fondly, continuing on, "When I was sixteen, I fell in love. He was only a poor blacksmith's son, destined to follow in his father's business, but I saw him often when I shopped in the forum. I never believed anything would come of it – I believed I would marry another slave and bring up my own children in same manner that I had been raised. But Constantina was not oblivious to our courtship – she was a hopeless romantic herself, a believer in the passion and love she read about in stories and myth. She was due to wed around the same time, and before her wedding, she granted me my freedom, giving me the chance to pursue my love."

Maura smiled, marveling at the woman's words. She had rightfully described her mother as upright and proper, which was the side Maura had always seen of her, and though she knew her mother was a strong-willed, passionate woman, Maura herself had never been a personal benefactor of those qualities.

Maura scooted closer to her on the bed, hesitantly reaching for the grapes. The woman smiled, gladly offering her the dish. "I hardly tell anyone about your mother," she admitted. "Only the people who knew your mother's family or knew me as a child – I did not even tell my own children of my upbringing." Maura watched her eyes darken, a sudden pain coming over her.

She sighed, continuing on, leaving the question on the edge of Maura's lips unasked. "However, your mother did come to visit me once – her father had passed away, so she came for a brief visit while she was in Ostia. You were with her, but you were so little that I hardly expect that you remember coming."

They were silent for a moment as Maura savored a few more grapes, letting their tart sweetness refresh her dry mouth. "Thank you," she spoke quietly. "Thank you for telling me what my mother did not."

The woman smiled, her eyes creasing in the corners with genuineness. "I'm sorry that the circumstances that brought you here are not ideal. I hoped I would see you again – you were such a pretty child, even at such a young age, and I hoped I'd get to see you blossom."

Maura smiled appreciatively, placing the remainder of the grapes back on the tray, her stomach already beginning to hurt from the sudden influx of food her body was not accustomed to.

"Would you like me to show you more of the house? Or one of our slaves could escort you to the baths if you'd like?" she spoke encouragingly, but Maura had already begun to retreat once again.

"Perhaps later," she spoke softly. "I'd rather be alone right now."

The woman nodded, balancing the tray in her grasp as she appeased to Maura's request. Once the door clicked shut, Maura curled up against the blankets again, a world-weary sigh escaping her lips. She had never believed she'd sink low enough to let another person's influence destroy her life. Maura had always been independent and self-reliant – she had learned to cope with loneliness by filling the emptiness with knowledge and discovery. What she had never banked on was finding a person who cared for her and one she cared so deeply for in return. The lack of companionship and love throughout her youth had never affected her detrimentally – how could she miss what she had never had? But upon finding that long sought after desire, upon discovering love as a feeling and not just a word – the pain of having that snatched away had not been smothering.

She let her eyes flutter shut, welcoming the blissful slumber she knew would momentarily dull the ache.

XXX

The bright sun pulsed against Maura's back as she tried to take in the crowded docks all at once, her senses on overload as her eyes darted around, counting more people than she had ever seen in one place at a given time.

"Maura!" Her mother's voice snapped her attention away from the bustling crowd, and she scurried on her small legs in attempt to keep up with her mother. "We haven't go much time," she reminded her, reaching for Maura's hand in an uncustomary manner. She let her hand settle into her mothers, a small smile breaching her lips as the unexpected contact left a warm feeling in her belly.

Maura, not quite five yet, had been born in Britannia and had never imagined – let alone seen – what life was like outside of the isolated province. She did not fully understand why her mother had brought her to the shores of Ostia, something about a grandfather she had never known passing on, but Maura had been much too eager at the prospect of traveling to let the reasons fully sink in. She toddled along beside her mother, disappointed that she had so little time to take in the sights around her.

They came to a humble home not far from the docks, and her mother seemed somewhat hesitant as she knocked on the door. A slave greeted them, nodding them in, instructing them to wait in the atrium as he went to fetch his mistress. He returned moments later, followed by a heavily pregnant woman, who's face twisted into an expression of pleasant surprise upon falling on the pair.

"Angela, how lovely to see you," Constantina greeted, taking the woman's hands in her own. "You look well, and it seems as though you are in good health. And I offer my congratulations," she further added, her eyes falling on her rounded abdomen. Angela touched her belly, unable to contain her smile. "I'd wager this is not your first?"

"No," Angela laughed lightly. "I have one other, a daughter. I lost a baby a few years ago, so we are very blessed that this pregnancy has gone well. The baby seems strong, and Franciscus is praying for a son," she added. "I see you have a little one of your own," she smiled down at Maura, who hid behind her mother's legs just a bit bashfully; her experience interacting with others beyond her family and her household slaves was very limited.

"Yes, this is my little Maurcella," she touched Maura's honey blonde curls lightly.

Angela smiled. "My daughter is not much older than she is – she's out in the garden, if she'd like to go out and play with her," she offered, watching Maura's shy expression break out into an eager smile.

"Yes, I believe Maura would enjoy that," Constantina spoke, touching Maura's back lightly as she followed Angela out into the garden. "There is a matter I'd like to discuss with you, if you have a moment," she spoke carefully.

Maura left the two women to their conversation, stepping out into the small, enclosed garden. The plants were much brighter and vibrant than the small variety of shrubs they had in their own garden, the harsh weather in the north making it hard to keep a proper garden. Maura admired the flowers, almost forgetting that she was to meet another little girl out here until she heard a voice.

"Hey, who are you?"

Startled, Maura wheeled around, trying to pin the source of the voice.

"Up here," the voice called out again, and she glanced up to see a face peering out between the leaves of the pear tree. The girl had wild, dark hair and wide brown eyes that seemed startling on such a small face. Maura, who had never climbed a tree in her life, looked up at the girl with admiration, her mouth hanging agape.

"You just gonna stare?" the girl laughed, hopping down to the branch below her easily. "Wanna come up?"

Maura looked down at her prim stola and her clean hands, slightly hesitant. It was not at all the behavior that was encouraged of a Roman girl – and even at such a young age, Maura's mother had taught her to abide by societal standards, especially in the presence of others.

"Come on, I'll give you a hand," the girl grinned sympathetically, dropping herself down to the lowest branch as she extended her hand. "It'll be fun."

Maura stepped toward the girl, planting her hand securely in her grasp, smiling immediately upon the contact. "Just step right there onto that little nub, and I'll help pull you up," the girl encouraged, and Maura obediently followed her command, struggling a little to heave her body up onto the branch. "There you go. Let's go a little higher, if you're not too scared," she dared with a wolfish grin.

"I'm not scared," Maura finally spoke, her voice confident and clear.

The girl laughed. "I was beginning to think you didn't talk. My name's Clementia, by the way."

"I'm Maurcella," Maura answered, feeling just a little dizzy the higher they went, but she was not about to make her fear apparent.

"So what are you doing in my garden? Do you live around here?" Clementia finally asked.

"Oh, no, Mater and I came to visit. I live across the sea," she stated, remembering the long journey they had taken by ship.

"That's too bad. There's not a lot of kids around here to play with – I was hoping we'd have more adventures. I like you," the girl sighed a bit wistfully.

"Perhaps Mater and I can visit more often," Maura spoke hopefully as well, trying to climb to a higher branch, equaling her height with the girl's.

As she reached for the branch, her foot slipped. She let out a small yelp, and her heart dropped to her stomach in her rush of panic, images of her small body slamming against the ground assaulting her mind. They were quickly canceled by a strong grip around her wrist, and as she regained her footing. She peered up at the girl, feeling a little queasy, and she did not let go, even after Maura had steadied herself.

"You okay?"

Maura nodded, huddling against the girl. She wrapped her arm around Maura's waist, and Maura graciously tucked her head into the crook of her neck, listening to the girl's erratic heartbeat. "You gave me a scare," the girl spoke softly. "And nothing really scares me."

"I'm okay now," Maura spoke softly, her breathing returning to a steady rate. She took the girl's hand in her own, letting their fingers loosely intertwine, hoping it would be ages before her mother appeared in the garden to fetch her.