A/N: Finally, an update! I'm sorry to everyone that this was a long time coming. I moved from the USA, to the UK and back again.. And then got married ect. so t was probably the most busy I've been in my entire life. It's taken me a while to get back into this but I really enjoyed sitting down and working on this chapter. I hope you don't hate me too much for taking so long and hopefully, updates from here on out will be steady now the crazy is over.

I hope y'all enjoy this and please review to let me know I'm on the right track with the flavor I'm trying to create. Thank you so much .ox


Chapter 5: Venus

July 30th, 79 AD

Brittany had always had an interest in plants. Though the area she lived in the city of Oplontis was relatively poor, Gardens were always pretty plentiful. There was always something about the beauty of nature that made even the poorest, darkest of souls that little bit lighter. Plants were at the heart of the delicate balance of the universe – that much Brittany had picked up from the passing conversation of scholars.

Though the night just past gave her more eventual rest than any others as of yet, she was still constantly tired. The plants, though they didn't provide her with much intellectual company like another human would, gave her a sense of serene calm. The air in the courtyard was clear, crisp and a world away from thoughts of Santana and her overbearing father.

She was alone here.

It had only been three days since she last saw her parents, but it felt like another lifetime. Brittany missed them so dearly. Advances of Master Loukas aside – her new clothes, living quarters and food to eat was great. Pompeii was a world and a half away from where she had come from, and so were the luxuries that came along with it, even for a slave.

But there was such thing as a mothers' touch and a fathers' love that couldn't be replaced with anything else in the world.

Brittany's father had been poor, but he loved as though he was the richest man in the Roman Empire. Brittany and her mother were his riches, and he treasured them above all other. She had never seen him frown – not once. He was strong and proud, despite the hand the Gods handed to him.

Aelia was a wonderful, selfless woman. She cared for Brittany as though she was her own flesh and blood, even if she didn't necessarily know a thing about her or her life before this house. She helped bathe her, ensured she never missed a meal and did her very best to make sure she was comfortable when they returned for the night. It didn't mean that Brittany didn't miss her mother because of it, but she was grateful all the same. At least she had some small sense of home.

Brittany's attention was immediately caught by the sound of booming voices echoing around the pillars of the courtyard. Her Masters' voice was already one she could pick out from a crowd, even though she hadn't known him long. It was unmissable, and filled her with a great deal of unease since that night. He didn't call for her last night, but the way Aelia cared for her, Brittany knew it probably wouldn't be a one-time thing.

As a slave-girl, she had to get used to it.

"..-and the people of Pompeii can be easily persuaded, you mark my words," The words were much clearer as Brittany lifted her head, peering through her hair at the company that wandered into the Gardens. Master Loukas, adorning his usual extravagant tunic, golden sash across his chest, was followed by three other older men who seemed to hang onto his every word. Brittany assumed they much have been fellow politicians or other worldly leaders on men, their attire complimenting her Masters'.

As his gaze fell to her, Brittany ripped her eyes away and instead, stared intently at the shrubs she was trimming. She hadn't seen since the night he had taken her innocence, and the last thing she wanted to do was get on his bad side. She would be what he needed her to be, but sticking her nose where it didn't belong or being unruly wasn't part of her nature. After all, it didn't seem to end well for the girl before her – as Gaius had described.

"She's a fine one, isn't she?"

Brittany knew in an instant that the words from Master Loukas were directed towards her. She could almost feel his leer, and the leers of his acquaintances, boring into her body. The tunic she wore was lengthy and covering, but the flimsy material had never made her feel more naked before. It were as though all pairs of eyes could see right through to her skin.

"Golden hair, virgin. A man would have to pay an extortion for that in the city. I tell you – I have gotten my finest women from smaller townships."

As the men murmured in agreement, Brittany's face burned a deep shade of blood red. The way they talked about her - a human being – was like nothing more than one of her fathers' goats. She was an object that could be bought, used and shown off like a hunting trophy.

She had always assumed that the great, powerful men she used to watch go about their business in her home town measured their wealth in architecture, gold and art. From what she had seen, it was very much the case. Even Master Loukas had his fair share of beautiful home additions that would be the envy of many other men, she was sure. But this?

Were all the noble men as vile?

"My wife would have disliked this one."

The final words stuck to Brittany's mind. She had assumed that there was no lady of the house, but she silently cursed herself for not coming to the conclusion sooner. Santana must have had a mother somewhere down the line. After all, she was flesh and blood – just like Brittany. Had she passes on? Would she have disliked her because of the Masters' advances?

xXx

Being on her own for a few hours had allowed Brittany to relax away from those vile gazes. In the grand scheme of things, Brittany really hadn't been able to experience all that much in her short life, but nothing else had ever made her that uncomfortable.

She felt a great deal of sympathy for animals in the market.

Though the midday sun had been hot, burning into her pale, thinly skinned cheeks, the evening was upon Pompeii. With the sun relatively low in the sky, the garden was illuminated in the most beautiful of light. The shrubs and small trees were trimmed to perfection, casting long shadows over the stoned pavement and Brittany smiled to herself as she pruned a rosebush from where she sat on a low, decorative wall. Though the day had been long and her stomach ached with coming hunger, she was momentarily content.

Plants truly did have a magical quality.

The sound of footsteps made Brittany jump, instantly regretting she had allowed herself to be lulled into a sense of calm. She hoped dearly that they belonged to a fellow house-slave. With her nerves getting the better of her, Brittany stood from her resting place and moved behind the large bush, using it to shield herself from the origin of the footsteps and peered from behind the leaves.

Head downcast and buried into a leather bound book, the gorgeous image of the tanned young woman caused Brittany's breath to hitch in her throat. It had been an entire day since they spoke for the first time, but it seemed like a lifetime away. Brittany could remember the tone of her voice so clearly in her head – the way her mouth moved and her eyes steadied on her with interest. It was as clear as the sky was blue, but she needed it again. Brittany had never before thought it would be possible to crave a person like food or water, but she did for Santana.

As though she was instantly aware that she had spent the last few minutes spying on the Masters' daughter through the branches of a bush like a villain, Brittany stood up and continued her task of trimming and pruning. Santana wasn't a threat to her and oddly, she felt her best when around her, or looking at her. She felt light – excited to be near her aura. Peering up from beneath her lashes, Brittany kept allowing herself to steal peeks at the woman, who had come to lean against a pillar, her eyes never once leaving the textured pages of the book.

With her eyes steady on Santana, Brittany reached for another branch of the bush and felt a sharp pain run through her thumb, slicing open her skin with a harsh stab.

"Oww," Brittany yipped, her yelp filling the courtyard before her teeth could mute the noise. Ripping her hand away, Brittany spied a blood accumulating in and around a small gash. In her neglect to concentrate, Brittany had caught herself on a thorn. It wasn't serious at all, or any cause for alarm, it was just a minor momentary inconvenience.

"Are you alright?" The voice sent a tingle up Brittany's spine. She didn't have to look up to know from whom it was coming from.

"Yes. Yes, I'm fine. I just caught myself, is all," Brittany reassured, peering up and letting her eyes dart around Santana's expression. The creases on face were a tattoo of genuine concern – the book that had captured all of the beautiful woman's attention was lying flat on the ground by the pillar Santana once was.

"You should be more careful," Santana breathed, the relief breaking out like an instantaneous reaction through her entire body language. Brittany couldn't help but feel a warmth run though her at the thought that Santana cared about her that much, even if she didn't know her. Aelia cared for her, as did the other house-slaves. They were a family and treated Brittany as such, even though she was a new arrival. Compared to Santana, Brittany was nothing. No more than something the Master of the house could use to show off to his wealthy friends.

But Santana seemed to care.

For her.

Nodding in response as she fought away a smile at the thought of Santana seeing her as more than just another body around the house, they fell into a pregnant silence. Brittany wanted to desperately to open her mouth to say something, but it wasn't her place.

"I'm sorry,"

The simple apology took Brittany by surprise. She wasn't sure where it had come from, and for what, but the uneasy look in Santana's dark orbs was enough to tell her that it wasn't something that happened very often.

"I didn't mean to frighten you yesterday, when I scolded the male slave," Santana continued, her eyes darting to her feet. She reminded Brittany of a child who had done wrong, and was forced into paying their dues by their parents. It was quite the picture. Quite adorable, for what of a better word. "I'm quick to get angry, and I do not mean to. I definitely didn't mean to make you think ill of me. I don't get to talk to people often. At least not people I enjoy the company of, house-slave or not."

Santana continued to apologize and Brittany felt the butterflies in her chest, beating their wings to escape and fly free. This beautiful, graceful woman deemed her important enough to owe an apology to, and Brittany had never felt more important. She could tell that Santana was almost humming with the anxiety of Brittany finally saying something back in response to her apology.

"Did you know that a rose has many meanings?" She questioned Santana, a small simper etching on her lips as the blonde turned her attention to the vibrant, red flowers she was previously attending.

After a moments' skipped beat, Brittany could feel the brightness flowing back into Santana's face. She was grateful that the house-slave had decided to accept her apology wordlessly, seemingly knowing that it made her uncomfortable. "You don't say?"

Brittany nodded, continuing my work. "Legend has it that there was an incredibly beautiful maiden named Rhodanthe. Her beauty drew many suitors who pursued her relentlessly. Exhausted by their pursuit, Rhodanthe was forced to take refuge in the temple of her friend Diana. Unfortunately, Diana was of a jealous nature and when the suitors broke down her temple gates to get near the beloved Rhodanthe, she became furious. Enraged, Diana turned Rhodanthe into a rose and her suitors into thorns."

"I have never heard such a tale before," Santana replied with a thoughtful deepness after Brittany gave her time to mull it over. It was something Brittany had overheard at the market once, and though it was simple and strange, it stuck with her. If there was such thing as fate, she would have believed that it stayed in her mind just for the chance to tell it to Santana at that moment.

Brittany shrugged, "Do you know why you have roses painted on the ceiling of your dining room?"

The blonde could see Santana's smile turn into an amused grin as she shook her head. "I'm guessing you do?"

"They say Cupid offered a rose when trying to bribe the God of Silence to hush Venus's amorous escapades. It's a symbol of secrecy. The paintings in dining rooms reminds all guests to keep secret what had been said during dinner," Brittany had stopped my pruning and instead, retired to letting her finger graze over the velvety softness of the flowers. She could feel Santana's eyes on her as she finished her rambles, and she found it hard to pull my eyes away from the plant. Brittany had been told many times by her mother that she talked a lot, and had the sinking feeling that she might have done so out of place.

"You are very smart, Brittany," The words sent a warmth to Brittany's cheeks and her eyes darted up to Santana's face, bright with a gentle smile. "Where did you learn any of that?"

Brittany knew Santana assumed that, being a slave-girl, she didn't have access to books. It wasn't a mean judgement to make, because it was very true. She learned everything from overhearing and nosy curiosity. When life didn't give her what you desired most in the world, Brittany had learned very early on that she had to go out on her own to get it.

"I hear things or see things, and I always remember," Brittany shrugged again, half embarrassed that Santana was complimenting her so openly. Everyone always just assumed she was stupid because she was poor. Santana saw right through it.

"I know one thing about roses," Santana spoke softly, stepping towards Brittany and letting her fingers resume the petting of the flower the slave hadn't even realized she had stopped. Brittany let my eyes bore into the Mistresses face, but she kept her own steady on the blood red petals, the hunt of a smirk pulling at her mouth, making Brittany's stomach leap.

"They symbolize Venus," She stated simply. Brittany noticed the way she swallowed and let her tongue run over her plump lips before she continued. "Beauty, sex, fertility, prosperity, desire.. And love," Brittany's eyes instantly darted to her mouth as her lips and tongue framed the last word with such delicacy, it were almost as though it was a poem. Her chest ached and her palms heated, burning as they dampened.

Santana's eyes flickered to the other girls' as she smiled shyly, and Brittany's heart stopped. This proud, beautiful woman was so instantly bashful, Brittany had the need to hold her. Hold her and never let her go – in front of the Gods' and everyone to see.

Brittany wasn't sure why she had the idea to move and pluck a flower from the bush, not even considering the consequences of destroying such a noble plant, but she did. Santana's deep eyes watched her curiously. Feeling the bravery run through her, Brittany took a step forward to run her fingers gently through Santana's soft, raven locks – ignoring the confused knit of her eyebrows, and slid the rose into place behind her ear.

As she pulled back, Brittany watched the woman exhale and her face suddenly light up. Her eyes sparkled as she silently thanked the girl, dimples creasing as she beamed.

Though Santana turned around to collect her book and head inside the villa just before sundown, Brittany could see the bashful grin adorning her pretty face.

Brittany swore, if she could make her smile like that every time they talked, she would be happy here.