The Day Ash was Snow
Disclaimer: I do not own Gladiator nor any of the characters there within.
Lucilla looked to the gray sky where the ash of the battle was falling in a steady pour. Southeastern winds stirred the heavens and Lucilla smiled. She tried to forget, if only for a moment, the battle that had just taken place. She yearned to imagine that the chill in the air was not just from the lingering smell of death in the valley before her but the chill that gave way to a flurrying storm of white. Long had it been since last she had seen the sweet, pure snow of the mountains.
What a war this has been, she thought, shaking off the effects of the two week journey she had shared with her only brother, Commodus. Her brother, she deemed, only seemed to make the voyage longer for her plotting and scheming how much longer it would be until his rule. He continued on with all of the plans he had had in that sinister mind of his and she had begun to feel fearful. Her brother was too anxious for the passing of their father. How could he be so callous?
Finally having heard enough of Commodus' endless prattle, she exclaimed "Peace" to him. An immediate guilt seized her as her brother fell to an abrupt silence. The journey must not have been easy on the either of them and she had momentarily lost her cultured lenience for her brother. He came to her in humility, resting by her side. She allowed him to revert for a moment to his childlike innocence of when they used to hold each other when he became frightened or depressed. But unlike those younger years, there was something dangerous in the air surrounding her younger brother. Something twisted; something sinful. Lucilla found she was unprepared to react. Just as the atmosphere in the tiny transport began to constrict in suffocating realization the voyage ended; and not a moment too soon.
Commodus departed immediately for the battle grounds, while she returned inside the wretched cage they had traveled in to clear out items unneeded.
Never would she have dreamed of seeing Maximus again that very same night. There he was, speaking to her younger brother as she stood spying like a young school girl at the boy she was head over heels for in adolescent love. Though she knew many a thing had passed between them and they should become nothing more than just the aspect of old friends, she could not help the flutter of her heart at the sight of him. He was still as handsome as blazes, if not more so.
So much older, so much wiser…He has changed. Have I?
"If only you had been born a man."
Father entered the tent, gazing at her with all the love a man could ever possess for his daughter. She sauntered over to him.
"Father," she murmured, kissing the both of his sodden cheeks gently.
"I wonder; would you have been just?"
"I would have been what you taught me to be." She answered in all honesty.
"Oh." He nodded smiling, moving forward as he went. "How was your journey?"
Lucilla sighed inwardly, recoiling at the all too prominent recollection, but she knew she could not lie to her father.
"Long, uncomfortable. Why have I come?" her curiosity getting the better of her as she gazed curiously over at her father.
"I need your help, with your brother."
"Of course!" she laughed, trying desperately to broaden his ever waning smile.
"He loves you, he always has. And he will need you now; more than ever." He turned to her, the dark circles under his eyes suddenly glaring with age. She wished to embrace her father and never let go then and there.
"Enough of politics. Let us pretend, that you are a loving daughter and that I am a good father." He whispered, as if speaking of such a pretense aloud would make the statement false. He pressed forward again, as she followed watching his every gaze. Keeping all distress from her voice to the best of her actress' abilities replied—
"This is a pleasant fiction, isn't it?"
Father, always the gentleman, escorted Lucilla to the flap of the tent. She turned to inquire of his means, but he silenced her with a finger to his lips.
"I must speak with the daring General of our most…victorious army."
Lucilla smiled warmly to him as he reentered the tent. With a slight spring in her step to accompany her pace as she strolled merrily to her tent, she had not felt so elated in years.
Maximus was due to pass her and she would be there, quite conveniently, to catch him.
Lucilla peered out of the tent avidly just in time to spot the General in his fine furs and imposing armor. He was pacing as agitated as a prodded lion would in a cage. Something father must have said has distressed him.
His back was turned to her and Lucilla seized the opportunity to step around the tent wall to lean gently back on the support. Maximus turned back again, this time spotting her and he stopped dead in his tracks.
That had always pleased Lucilla. So as to hide her appreciative smile, she dipped her head to speak to him.
"My father favors you now."
"M'lady." He bowed respectfully. Oh how formal! She glowered in a simpering silence. We are more than just acquaintances Maximus…
"T'was not always so." She allowed the disdain in her voice to be heard.
"Many things change."
"Many things," she agreed, tilting her head slightly, his gaze dark and cold as the bitter air around them. "Not everything." The General barely seemed to take that into consideration before he bowed again and turning to leave. Not wishing Maximus to run out on her just yet, she hailed him.
"Maximus, stop!" she followed him, the haughty stagger of a Roman princess had returned to her step. He halted abruptly. "Let me see your face." The command did not go unheard. He turned, avoiding her gaze it seemed, for all he was worth. "You seem upset." She murmured softly.
"I lost many men."
She sighed again inwardly, his eyes were colder, more hardened to the hardships of adulthood than what once had been in their youth. Her gaze fell once more, before she forced a smile to her lips.
"What did my father want with you?"
Her curiosity paraded her once again. He looked up at the sky, searching for any possible excuse. Nothing answered him but the soft sighing of the wind through the brittle trees and the silent fall of ash from the sky.
"To wish me will on the journey home." He smiled wistfully and turned again, urgent to leave the princess to her own thoughts, but she was not yet finished with him.
"You're lying." He could hear her smile. "I could always tell when you were because you were never any good at it."
Suddenly he rounded back on her, returning the cool smile.
"Well, I never aquired your comfort with it."
Now it was Lucilla's turn to frown. "True," she agreed coldly, "but then you never had to. Life is more simple for a soldier," she paused, stepping toward him, "or do you think me heartless?"
Maximus stood rigid again, not meeting her gaze. "I think you have a talent for survival." He tried away again, but failed at Lucilla's bitter laughter.
"Maximus stop!" He halted once again, forcing his anger to a calm, nonchalance.
"Is it truly so terrible seeing me again?" She could see she had pierced him at last.
A guilt rose in his breast causing his heart to beat with uncertainty. Lucilla was not his enemy, or at least, not the enemy that sought his life.
"No," he answered truthfully, "I am tired from battle."
Again Lucilla could see through his façade. "It pains you to see my father so fragile." She always knew…No turning back now. Maximus nodded. "Commodus thinks he will announce his succession within days." She continued softly, thinking ill of her poor little brother. "Will you serve my brother as you served my father?" she gazed at him then, tearing through his carefully laid walls ruthlessly. Their time together as children lent itself to her rather innate ability to read him. Her eyes searched; seeking his ever evasive truth.
"I will always serve Rome." He replied, his tone thick with some unidentifiable emotion.
"Do you know, I still remember you in my prayers." Sensing his shock, she reinforced her afore statement. "Oh yes, I pray."
The two fell silent for a moment, an unusually uncomfortable silence. Perhaps they had apart too long, living separate lives, growing up too quickly.
"I was sorry to hear of your husband's death." She glanced up at him, her discomfort and pain mounting. "I mourned him."
Lucilla's pained gaze fell once more, crashing to the rocky ground. She bit her lower lip awkwardly. She had so hoped that this subject would remain, quite literally, buried.
"Thank you." She murmured softly, at a rare loss for words.
"And I hear you have a son."
Lucilla gave him a fleeting look; beaming at the image and close memory of the son she held so dear. "Yes, Lucius." The name of her beloved son fell sweetly from her lips, lifting a weight of depression from her mind. "He'll be nearly eight years old."
Maximus also seemed to glow with pride, something Lucilla had not seen for a very long time. It pleased her greatly to see Maximus so pleased.
"My son is also nearly eight."
Ah yes, Lucilla thought, Father had told me of his son.
Another moment of silence ensued, but not so terribly uncomfortable as the last, for some common ground had been found at last. Maximus drew his gaze to the sky as Lucilla drew hers to the ground.
"I thank you for your prayers." He said, his voice softened gently, the truth behind his words surprised her. He retreated; finally, to his thoughts. Lucilla released him from her presence, daring not tempt herself to halt him yet again.
She could do naught but watch his receding back diminish over a hill. With the General no longer in her sight, her eyes drew back up to the graying skies. The ash continued to fall lazily on the wind, but for this moment at least, she would let herself not see ash, but snow. She allowed herself a small smile as a ray of sunlight streamed warmly through the clouds. But perhaps this would be enough.
Fini
A/N: This is one of my more favorite scenes that I believe deserved a little illumination on my part. I could only imagine these two teasing each other as children and poor young Commodus suffering somewhere in the background…
But I digress, I hope everyone enjoyed the story and will review!!!
Blackfire 18