Title: Cold Sky Of Memory
Author: Amy Fortuna (peacefulpassion@hotmail.com)
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Max/Ci
Disclaimer: Cicero is not mine. I can only dream.
Warning: Slash.
Archive: Anywhere that wants it, just keep this header on it.
Series: Sequel to Fateful Night.
Spoilers: Yes, for Gladiator.
Summary: What was Cicero doing while Maximus was off gladiatoring?
Feedback: Tastes smoother than the average alcoholic beverage, but produces approximately the same effect.
*******************
I travelled with the army to Ostia, where they would stay until the new Emperor thought up some campaign; as for me, my days in the army were over.
Emperor Commodus had appointed a favorite of his, Gaius Catullus, to be general of the army. I was left alone, unmolested, except for my few friends.
I carried your figurines in a small bag next my heart. I had been able to save little enough from what was yours.
From Ostia, as spring came creeping over the lands, I went north to Rome. The new Emperor was then preparing for games of some kind; there had never been such crowded roads on the way to Rome.
Walking under the sunny sky on the road, I found time to think of you, Maximus, and to remember, and to miss you.
Oh, the days when we fought together as equals, before I saved your life at the cost of my fighting skills, and became unfit to do anything more than serve you.
It had been a battle axe, flying toward you, murderous hate behind it, and I had seen, and the universe had slowed down, and I had stepped in front of you, taking the dull edge of the axe on my jaw, that had crippled me.
I could not speak for weeks after, and to this day I speak with an effort only. My devotion to you was certain; my very speech bore the marks of my love.
And other battles. I had taken so many blows for you, cuts to the thigh and arm, bruises to the face, that you began in jest to call me your shield.
It was then, in our youth, my face still unmarred, that you took me as your lover. You, my Maximus, rising young soldier, took me, the private who would never rise above that position, to be yours in heart and bed.
You were not yet married then, but the marriage had been arranged. She was, you told me, of Spanish descent, her family wealthy farmers. And no, you'd never yet seen her, so how could you love her?
Well, duty to your family is duty, Maximus, I had said to you. But Rome will not let you leave her wars for long and I will be here when you return.
And that was true enough. Somehow, love sparked between you and your wife, but it was a love I did not need to be jealous of, for you soon returned to the army and to me, eyes bright with the hope of a son on the way.
Things went on just the same until I nearly died that day for you. I was certain, dim with fever and pain, that you, who loved beauty, would never want me now. You disabused me of that notion with a kiss to my healing face, in front of all in the tent. I think if I had not been in so much pain, I would have blushed.
After that, never fear the gossip's tongues, you took me home. And the woman I dreaded meeting turned out to become a friend, laughingly calling me her "brother." You were in love with both of us, Maximus, and those were some of the happiest days of my life, slowly learning to kiss and speak again on your Trujillo farm.
And now you, and beautiful Selene, and your young boy, were dead. My instincts had been right; the praetorians were bound for your home.
Of all the terrible things I had seen or imagined in my life, that must be the worst.
So many happy days were spent there. And when we were preparing to return to Rome's army, you asked me a question I had not dared to consider before: did I wish to fight again?
At the very idea of fighting, my mind was overcome with terrifying images of pain. I mutely shook my head and you seemed to understand.
"Well, dear Cicero, my shield, I do seem to be in need of one thing."
My eyes asked what that could be.
"Be my servant. You will always be my equal to me, but you may now shield me in other ways in this."
I smiled assent, and you kissed me. Truth to tell, I would have done anything just to be near you.
Back at the army camp, things did not go so smoothly at first. Your second in command, Quintus, began to be condescending to me, and some of the other soldiers, resenting my closeness to their General, began to refer to me as "Maximus' dog."
Trapped in slow speech, I could not settle the matter in words, and did not wish to use force -- there were too many of them anyway.
So I bore the insults with patience. And all too soon they let themselves be trapped in their own folly; they taunted me, not knowing that you were within hearing inside the tent.
You roared out, love, like a tiger protecting a kit. I have never felt so happy to be allied with you.
They trembled, and slunk away like the dogs they were, proverbial tails between legs. You drew me inside the tent and proceeded to devour me, as I arched into your touch, begging helplessly for more of you, all of you.
That day of all days was my happiest.
And that had been nearly three years ago. The world had changed since then, and you who I had always loved, lay dead.
I looked up to see the walls of Rome ahead. With your love to be *my* shield, and our history of devotion, how could I fail in my task?
*******************
Coming soon: No Easy Way Out
Don't forget to send feedback! peacefulpassion@hotmail.com
Author: Amy Fortuna (peacefulpassion@hotmail.com)
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Max/Ci
Disclaimer: Cicero is not mine. I can only dream.
Warning: Slash.
Archive: Anywhere that wants it, just keep this header on it.
Series: Sequel to Fateful Night.
Spoilers: Yes, for Gladiator.
Summary: What was Cicero doing while Maximus was off gladiatoring?
Feedback: Tastes smoother than the average alcoholic beverage, but produces approximately the same effect.
*******************
I travelled with the army to Ostia, where they would stay until the new Emperor thought up some campaign; as for me, my days in the army were over.
Emperor Commodus had appointed a favorite of his, Gaius Catullus, to be general of the army. I was left alone, unmolested, except for my few friends.
I carried your figurines in a small bag next my heart. I had been able to save little enough from what was yours.
From Ostia, as spring came creeping over the lands, I went north to Rome. The new Emperor was then preparing for games of some kind; there had never been such crowded roads on the way to Rome.
Walking under the sunny sky on the road, I found time to think of you, Maximus, and to remember, and to miss you.
Oh, the days when we fought together as equals, before I saved your life at the cost of my fighting skills, and became unfit to do anything more than serve you.
It had been a battle axe, flying toward you, murderous hate behind it, and I had seen, and the universe had slowed down, and I had stepped in front of you, taking the dull edge of the axe on my jaw, that had crippled me.
I could not speak for weeks after, and to this day I speak with an effort only. My devotion to you was certain; my very speech bore the marks of my love.
And other battles. I had taken so many blows for you, cuts to the thigh and arm, bruises to the face, that you began in jest to call me your shield.
It was then, in our youth, my face still unmarred, that you took me as your lover. You, my Maximus, rising young soldier, took me, the private who would never rise above that position, to be yours in heart and bed.
You were not yet married then, but the marriage had been arranged. She was, you told me, of Spanish descent, her family wealthy farmers. And no, you'd never yet seen her, so how could you love her?
Well, duty to your family is duty, Maximus, I had said to you. But Rome will not let you leave her wars for long and I will be here when you return.
And that was true enough. Somehow, love sparked between you and your wife, but it was a love I did not need to be jealous of, for you soon returned to the army and to me, eyes bright with the hope of a son on the way.
Things went on just the same until I nearly died that day for you. I was certain, dim with fever and pain, that you, who loved beauty, would never want me now. You disabused me of that notion with a kiss to my healing face, in front of all in the tent. I think if I had not been in so much pain, I would have blushed.
After that, never fear the gossip's tongues, you took me home. And the woman I dreaded meeting turned out to become a friend, laughingly calling me her "brother." You were in love with both of us, Maximus, and those were some of the happiest days of my life, slowly learning to kiss and speak again on your Trujillo farm.
And now you, and beautiful Selene, and your young boy, were dead. My instincts had been right; the praetorians were bound for your home.
Of all the terrible things I had seen or imagined in my life, that must be the worst.
So many happy days were spent there. And when we were preparing to return to Rome's army, you asked me a question I had not dared to consider before: did I wish to fight again?
At the very idea of fighting, my mind was overcome with terrifying images of pain. I mutely shook my head and you seemed to understand.
"Well, dear Cicero, my shield, I do seem to be in need of one thing."
My eyes asked what that could be.
"Be my servant. You will always be my equal to me, but you may now shield me in other ways in this."
I smiled assent, and you kissed me. Truth to tell, I would have done anything just to be near you.
Back at the army camp, things did not go so smoothly at first. Your second in command, Quintus, began to be condescending to me, and some of the other soldiers, resenting my closeness to their General, began to refer to me as "Maximus' dog."
Trapped in slow speech, I could not settle the matter in words, and did not wish to use force -- there were too many of them anyway.
So I bore the insults with patience. And all too soon they let themselves be trapped in their own folly; they taunted me, not knowing that you were within hearing inside the tent.
You roared out, love, like a tiger protecting a kit. I have never felt so happy to be allied with you.
They trembled, and slunk away like the dogs they were, proverbial tails between legs. You drew me inside the tent and proceeded to devour me, as I arched into your touch, begging helplessly for more of you, all of you.
That day of all days was my happiest.
And that had been nearly three years ago. The world had changed since then, and you who I had always loved, lay dead.
I looked up to see the walls of Rome ahead. With your love to be *my* shield, and our history of devotion, how could I fail in my task?
*******************
Coming soon: No Easy Way Out
Don't forget to send feedback! peacefulpassion@hotmail.com