Lucilla woke to a sensation not unlike that of someone wiping her face off with a warm washcloth.
She blinked. In return, she nearly recieved an eyeful of the "washcloth."
A puppy was standing next to her head, enthusiastically licking her face. At that precise moment, Lucius's voice rang softly from the corridor. "Amatricis?"
"If your Amatricis happens to look like a puppy, I believe she's here," she called back, lifting the canine off the bed and fetching a soft cloth from the side of the bed to wipe off her face. Lucius came trotting in, coming up to the bed to pick up the puppy.
"I think she ought to look like a puppy," the boy noted speculatively, his expression mirroring that of the canine's: pleased, subtly gleeful. "She is one. You promised I could keep one if I found one I liked, Mother..."
"I wasn't planning on breaking the promise." Lucilla set the cloth aside to smile at her son and his pet. "You've named her Amatricis?" Lucius nodded solemnly. "It suits her." Indeed, the puppy looked as sweet as her name deigned -- the ample off-white fur, dark brown eyes, huge paws and ears, the short legs and overall round appearance. Endearing.
"Mother. I saw another dog that I liked." Lucilla looked thoughtfully at him, nodding for him to continue. "Could I have... two pets?" A smile stole onto his face. "I even have a name picked out."
"And what would that name be?"
"I want to name him Felix!" he declared, looking up at her expectantly, the smile still present.
Lucilla's heart nearly seized up at the proposed name. Felix. Lucky. The name of Maximus' former legions. In the following moments of silence that passed, Lucius waited, beginning to look a bit apprehensive. "Mother? Is Felix a bad name, then?" Amatricis wriggled and sniffed in his arms, oblivious to Lucilla's frozen expression.
"It's a fine name," she managed after the inner turmoil of setting her battered heart back to rights, at least externally. "But let's see how you are with Amatricis, and then we'll decide."
// Or do you think me heartless? //
Lucius nodded and left, puppy still grasped in his arms.
---------------------------------------
Commodus was pacing his room. Not angrily, not sadly. Just... pacing. His shoes brushed lightly over the floor, which he stared hard at, hands linked behind his back under his white cape.
He was dressed in full battle glory again, though it had all been clean and what could not have been washed out of blood had been replaced hastily. The white Lorica segmentata creaked softly as he turned at the end of the room and walked the oth er way again; the cape floated out a few inches behind him.
A deep, thoughtful frown creased his face, though it disappeared with a wince of pain as the expression pulled the skin tight over his injured nose, though it was not that that was bothering him.
Rumors had erupted in the servants. Something about his nephew and a canine he wanted to name Felix.
His blood boiled. How could his dear Lucius betray his uncle like that? Wanting to name a dog Felix. It saddened him deeply. And Lucilla... Lucilla had lied to him. To be merciful, he would spare her life, and Lucius'. But only for a little longer, if they didn't please him. They had hurt him so much... Surely they must know that without their love, his life would be worthless.
// A frightful dream... Life is. //
As he thought, paced, he felt more at peace. After only a few moments more of striding back and forth, he slumped into the nearest chair -- overstuffed, new, huge -- and closed his eyes.
---------------------------------------
The days passed. Lucilla grew hesitantly more at ease in life once more; she had not had any more angry encounters with her brother. Indeed, he had seemed unusually subdued, sympathetic. Both she and Commodus had grown fond of Amatricis, and the puppy could often be found slipping and sliding across the polished floors with Lucius running along behind her. Perhaps the gods had decided to give her true life back, be benevolent. She prayed to them for her son's safety.
// I remember you in my prayers... //
Nearly two weeks after Lucius' decision to keep Amatricis, any measure of peace she had disappeared.
Lucius came to her before dinner, troubled and worried. "Mother, I can't find Amatricis anywhere... I've looked all over, and I've even had the servants help."
"Perhaps she went and hid in a corner somewhere. It wouldn't be too hard for her to do that," she comforted him. "I will help you look for her." He accepted that, and their meal went as planned, except for the fact that Commodus failed to attend.
When she returned to her room afterward, all of her life-learned control went into keeping herself from either retching in horror or screaming in the same.
Lying at the foot of her bed was a cream-colored puppy, limp and lifeless, head and chest lying in a pool of blood on the stone floor. Lying next to Amatricis' body was a red satin cushion, casually propping up a dagger.
On closer inspection, the dagger's hilt bore her brother's trademark insignia of inlaid gold, and she knew: this was Commodus' tacit reminder of his power, over her life, and her son's.
// Or I shall strike down those closest to you... //
The servants were hard at work that night, removing all traces of blood from the tiled floor.
---------------------------------------
She blinked. In return, she nearly recieved an eyeful of the "washcloth."
A puppy was standing next to her head, enthusiastically licking her face. At that precise moment, Lucius's voice rang softly from the corridor. "Amatricis?"
"If your Amatricis happens to look like a puppy, I believe she's here," she called back, lifting the canine off the bed and fetching a soft cloth from the side of the bed to wipe off her face. Lucius came trotting in, coming up to the bed to pick up the puppy.
"I think she ought to look like a puppy," the boy noted speculatively, his expression mirroring that of the canine's: pleased, subtly gleeful. "She is one. You promised I could keep one if I found one I liked, Mother..."
"I wasn't planning on breaking the promise." Lucilla set the cloth aside to smile at her son and his pet. "You've named her Amatricis?" Lucius nodded solemnly. "It suits her." Indeed, the puppy looked as sweet as her name deigned -- the ample off-white fur, dark brown eyes, huge paws and ears, the short legs and overall round appearance. Endearing.
"Mother. I saw another dog that I liked." Lucilla looked thoughtfully at him, nodding for him to continue. "Could I have... two pets?" A smile stole onto his face. "I even have a name picked out."
"And what would that name be?"
"I want to name him Felix!" he declared, looking up at her expectantly, the smile still present.
Lucilla's heart nearly seized up at the proposed name. Felix. Lucky. The name of Maximus' former legions. In the following moments of silence that passed, Lucius waited, beginning to look a bit apprehensive. "Mother? Is Felix a bad name, then?" Amatricis wriggled and sniffed in his arms, oblivious to Lucilla's frozen expression.
"It's a fine name," she managed after the inner turmoil of setting her battered heart back to rights, at least externally. "But let's see how you are with Amatricis, and then we'll decide."
// Or do you think me heartless? //
Lucius nodded and left, puppy still grasped in his arms.
---------------------------------------
Commodus was pacing his room. Not angrily, not sadly. Just... pacing. His shoes brushed lightly over the floor, which he stared hard at, hands linked behind his back under his white cape.
He was dressed in full battle glory again, though it had all been clean and what could not have been washed out of blood had been replaced hastily. The white Lorica segmentata creaked softly as he turned at the end of the room and walked the oth er way again; the cape floated out a few inches behind him.
A deep, thoughtful frown creased his face, though it disappeared with a wince of pain as the expression pulled the skin tight over his injured nose, though it was not that that was bothering him.
Rumors had erupted in the servants. Something about his nephew and a canine he wanted to name Felix.
His blood boiled. How could his dear Lucius betray his uncle like that? Wanting to name a dog Felix. It saddened him deeply. And Lucilla... Lucilla had lied to him. To be merciful, he would spare her life, and Lucius'. But only for a little longer, if they didn't please him. They had hurt him so much... Surely they must know that without their love, his life would be worthless.
// A frightful dream... Life is. //
As he thought, paced, he felt more at peace. After only a few moments more of striding back and forth, he slumped into the nearest chair -- overstuffed, new, huge -- and closed his eyes.
---------------------------------------
The days passed. Lucilla grew hesitantly more at ease in life once more; she had not had any more angry encounters with her brother. Indeed, he had seemed unusually subdued, sympathetic. Both she and Commodus had grown fond of Amatricis, and the puppy could often be found slipping and sliding across the polished floors with Lucius running along behind her. Perhaps the gods had decided to give her true life back, be benevolent. She prayed to them for her son's safety.
// I remember you in my prayers... //
Nearly two weeks after Lucius' decision to keep Amatricis, any measure of peace she had disappeared.
Lucius came to her before dinner, troubled and worried. "Mother, I can't find Amatricis anywhere... I've looked all over, and I've even had the servants help."
"Perhaps she went and hid in a corner somewhere. It wouldn't be too hard for her to do that," she comforted him. "I will help you look for her." He accepted that, and their meal went as planned, except for the fact that Commodus failed to attend.
When she returned to her room afterward, all of her life-learned control went into keeping herself from either retching in horror or screaming in the same.
Lying at the foot of her bed was a cream-colored puppy, limp and lifeless, head and chest lying in a pool of blood on the stone floor. Lying next to Amatricis' body was a red satin cushion, casually propping up a dagger.
On closer inspection, the dagger's hilt bore her brother's trademark insignia of inlaid gold, and she knew: this was Commodus' tacit reminder of his power, over her life, and her son's.
// Or I shall strike down those closest to you... //
The servants were hard at work that night, removing all traces of blood from the tiled floor.
---------------------------------------