Disclaimer: I don't own any of this, that's why it is called a FANFIC, geez! I would like a little piece of Maximus to put on my fireplace, though. Please, pretty please. With cherries on top.
Today is my wedding day. The day I commit myself and the rest of my life to a man I have exchanged but a few, brief, formal, words with. I do not know him. All that I know is that my father chose him for me because our marriage will "strengthen the bonds that hold Rome together."
I am supposed to be happy. Overjoyed, I fact. In love. I am none of these. The only feelings I hold are those of great sorrow. My servant, friend, rather, Nicola is brushing my hair. She gently puts rouge on my lips and cheeks to accent my "beauty," and perfumes my hair. It is time for my dress. It is the color red, a bright red, like the color of a rose blooming in the middle of winter and sticking out of the snow, calling for any random person taking a stroll, to look at it, and admire its elegance and beauty. The traditional color of a wedding dress. It is to give the bride an appearance of a frail, but beautiful red rose, needing a husband to nurture it. And the rose, in turn, is ready and wanting to serve her husband the remainder of her time on earth.
Gold rings are placed in my hair to show my royal status, and rings on each finger. The gold feels like lead weights dragging me down to my horrible, painful, death. It is time.
I walk towards the man who will rule my life. There is music being played on lyre and red flower petals, on which I walk upon, but I am oblivious to all that. I block out everything. I can only feel the beating of my heart, I only feel me. I only know me. And I know I do not wish to be here. As I walk to Lucius, it feel as if I am not even here. My body is here, but my soul and mind are flying free in a far away place. My heart tells my legs to run away from all this, but I cannot. Each time I place one foot in front of the other, I am taking a step toward my own death. I will die in this union, I know that. My body will live, only to produce heirs for a throne, but my heart, my free living self, I think, will die today.
I am not even thinking about walking, but my legs are still moving, as if it is automatic. My legs mindlessly, thoughtlessly, carry me toward my fate, despite my soul screaming, and pleading, for another path.
I see my husband's face, a face of a man I must learn to love, but I do not. He gives me a smile of approval. And as he places his hand in mine, the door closes, my freedom is lost, my heart is broken, and I become a prisoner.
In the corner of my eye, I see an open window, and the breeze flows in and out at its ow desire. Now, I know what I must do to survive, and who I must become. I am like the wind. I made a choice today, and with my heavy chains of bondage, comes great power. I will be his wife, and a faithful one. My body will be in those chains, losing its liveliness and beauty, for his "heirs." Despite all of this, my soul soars, and will continue to. As an Empress, I do have power. And I hold my father and my husband by the neck. I have a great power, and I must acknowledge it, and use it. I am like the wind, soothing and cool, on a hot summer's day, furiously cold in the winter forests of Germania, and causing disaster at sea. The palace will be my world, and I will wreak havoc when I choose to. And my husband, my father, and my brother, must accept that and learn to weather the storm.
I am the wind. I am strong. And I am free.
Today is my wedding day. The day I commit myself and the rest of my life to a man I have exchanged but a few, brief, formal, words with. I do not know him. All that I know is that my father chose him for me because our marriage will "strengthen the bonds that hold Rome together."
I am supposed to be happy. Overjoyed, I fact. In love. I am none of these. The only feelings I hold are those of great sorrow. My servant, friend, rather, Nicola is brushing my hair. She gently puts rouge on my lips and cheeks to accent my "beauty," and perfumes my hair. It is time for my dress. It is the color red, a bright red, like the color of a rose blooming in the middle of winter and sticking out of the snow, calling for any random person taking a stroll, to look at it, and admire its elegance and beauty. The traditional color of a wedding dress. It is to give the bride an appearance of a frail, but beautiful red rose, needing a husband to nurture it. And the rose, in turn, is ready and wanting to serve her husband the remainder of her time on earth.
Gold rings are placed in my hair to show my royal status, and rings on each finger. The gold feels like lead weights dragging me down to my horrible, painful, death. It is time.
I walk towards the man who will rule my life. There is music being played on lyre and red flower petals, on which I walk upon, but I am oblivious to all that. I block out everything. I can only feel the beating of my heart, I only feel me. I only know me. And I know I do not wish to be here. As I walk to Lucius, it feel as if I am not even here. My body is here, but my soul and mind are flying free in a far away place. My heart tells my legs to run away from all this, but I cannot. Each time I place one foot in front of the other, I am taking a step toward my own death. I will die in this union, I know that. My body will live, only to produce heirs for a throne, but my heart, my free living self, I think, will die today.
I am not even thinking about walking, but my legs are still moving, as if it is automatic. My legs mindlessly, thoughtlessly, carry me toward my fate, despite my soul screaming, and pleading, for another path.
I see my husband's face, a face of a man I must learn to love, but I do not. He gives me a smile of approval. And as he places his hand in mine, the door closes, my freedom is lost, my heart is broken, and I become a prisoner.
In the corner of my eye, I see an open window, and the breeze flows in and out at its ow desire. Now, I know what I must do to survive, and who I must become. I am like the wind. I made a choice today, and with my heavy chains of bondage, comes great power. I will be his wife, and a faithful one. My body will be in those chains, losing its liveliness and beauty, for his "heirs." Despite all of this, my soul soars, and will continue to. As an Empress, I do have power. And I hold my father and my husband by the neck. I have a great power, and I must acknowledge it, and use it. I am like the wind, soothing and cool, on a hot summer's day, furiously cold in the winter forests of Germania, and causing disaster at sea. The palace will be my world, and I will wreak havoc when I choose to. And my husband, my father, and my brother, must accept that and learn to weather the storm.
I am the wind. I am strong. And I am free.