Mars

Chapter 7: Guilt

He spent that night with her as well but the grounds of the sex were not of passion, but of guilt. He felt ashamedly guilty that his selfishness was the cause of her pain and threats on her life. As he moved on top of her all he could think of in his head was the fact she could have died and it was his fault - how many times did she risk her life for him? A nauseating feeling built up in the pit of his stomach, but he refused to mention anything for fear of her thinking he was nauseated about doing some work in the bedroom for once and actually seeing her face during it.

He lay beside her once they had finished and turned his head away, refusing to look at her. He felt dirty and evil, although he never wanted to hurt anyone - all he wanted was to love and be loved, but he could not accomplish either task. Commodus the ignorant.

She sensed a change in his attitude and so leaned over to him and kissed his cheek. He winced as if burned, deeply offending her.

Again it was he who was first to wake as he did not even sleep. He dressed himself and left a note telling her to remain in his chambers where she would be safe - he would see to it. He walked nervously over to his gazing window and let the contents of his stomach empty upon the roads below, much to the citizens dislike, which burned the back of his throat. He would have to end it, he knew.

He decided to spend the day alone in the study where he poured over old texts telling him of his ancestors and the gladiatorial games and stayed in there until the bright blue sky was covered with a starry navy mantle. It was then he took his cue to leave, not bothering to say anything to the people he passed as he rushed to his room nor stopping to eat, which he did not even notice he had forgotten to do.

Lucilla, however, spent her day with Lucius, teaching him the ins and outs of writing on parchment. He thrived in the joy of growing in wisdom and every time he managed to get something right he was awarded with a hug and kiss from his mother which he returned with a toothy grin to show his enjoyment.

"How do you feel now you have managed to write your own story?" She smiled stroking his hair.

"I wish I could write more." He sighed.

"There's time." She kissed his cheek. "We must take this to father's study - it will be safe there and preserved for future generations."

"Can I show uncle?" He begged, pulling at her dress.

"Of course. Do you know where he is?" She rolled up the story and handed it to her beloved son.

"He's in the study. I saw him running in there this morning - I haven't heard him come out." He never seemed to care when bad things were happening.

Lucilla's face grew grim as bleak realisation that her brother had slipped into one of his frequent bouts of depression set in. Whenever he spent the day locked in the study, it was because he was terrifically troubled and was searching for the ways others dealt with problems of a similar nature. She grabbed her son's hand and began to walk quickly to the study, him being unable to keep up.

"What's wrong mother? Why are you dragging me?" He tried to resist her pulling.

"We just have to see what's wrong with your uncle - he'll be desperate to read your story." She opened the door and to her dismay - he was gone. He had obviously realised it was night. "Oh, he must be off to bed." She faked joy and picked Lucius up. "Let's put this on one of the shelves." She walked to each row searching for a space for the small piece of literature the small boy held. Eventually they found a space amongst her father's philosophical works and Lucius placed it gently there.

"Is there anything wrong with you mother?" Lucius asked as she set him down.

"No, why do you ask?" She kneeled to look at him at face level.

"Uncle Commodus looked worried when I told him you cried." He looked away.

"How do you know I cry?" She didn't like the idea of her son seeing her at her weakest.

"I hear you." He placed a hand on her cheek to show he cared about her.

"I just miss your father." She pulled him into a hug and kissed his forehead afterwards. "Now let's get you off to bed."

Commodus had just left the study twenty seconds before Lucilla entered it. As he reached his door he stopped, hesitant about entering and cursing her more with his immense bad luck. He turned away instead and sat cross legged on the floor like a boy staring simply at the threshold.

"Why are you on the floor?" Asked Lucilla stooping behind him and laying a hand upon his tense shoulder.

"I am thinking." He replied.

"You are always thinking. It will give you a headache." She teased.

"It doesn't matter." She sensed there was something wrong within him.

"Ignorance is bliss, brother." She kissed his cheek much like the way Amorina did, which seemed to warm the whole side of his face; making him smile slightly. He was a million miles away and still he could not shake the feeling of disgust and blame that had been haunting him throughout the whole, long day. His isolation returned along with his nail biting and he wished himself dead.

"What have you done?" She was troubled.

"Why do you always assume I have done wrong?" He inquired.

"Because that is always the case when you sit on the floor and I know you." She told him.

"You know me." It made him laugh very slightly. "But do you love me?"

"I will always love you, you are my brother." She assured him.

"So you love me because you have to." It shattered his illusions of company.

"I love you because I love you - how can there be an ulterior motive?" She was always the wiser of the two. "Now, go to bed."

"I love you." He looked at her. "You are the light."

"And I love you - you are my strength." They both stood and said goodnight with a hug, leaving Commodus to enter his room.

Amorina lay sleeping upon the bed, completely innocent with her blonde waves flowing behind her. He smirked, walked over to her and climbed into the sheets next to her, wrapping his arms around her. She was freezing cold, freezing cold and lifeless.

His breath caught in his throat and he jumped back, pulling her over onto her back. Her once bright blue eyes stared grey and emptily at the world beyond his. Bruises lay across her neck and he darkened. A sudden eruption of tears exploded from his eyes as he howled in a lament to the only woman who ever said she loved him, despite the fact deep down he knew he did not love her. He kissed her lips trying to awake her but to no avail, so he simply closed her eyes and cradled her stiff body until the sun decided to return once more, if it ever would.