A/N: Because I became tired of providing translations and worrying about their accuracy, I'm making any major translations (i.e. things that cannot be inferred for meaning / whole sentences) translated right into the text from now on. In effect, I'll tell you when someone is speaking a different language, and it'll be rendered in English but will be italicized. Hope that description made sense. If it doesn't I'm sure you'll make out what I mean later on. I apologize for the sincere un-slashiness of this chapter, compared to the others. I will redeem myself later!
Disclaimer: I disclaim.
Love, Requited
Chapter Four: The Town and the Boy
Early the next morning, before light, with the sky still a hopeful shade of indigo, Nechtan creeped across the camp's dewy grasses to the tent of Marcus and Esca. Gingerly, he lifted the tent flap and peeked his blonde head inside.
"Wakey wakey, lovebirds!" he said, cheekily smiling at the couple, who were wrapped tight against each other in the same fur bedroll. Esca squirmed at the sound of the Brigantine accent, but Marcus awoke first. His senses still slurred by the rude awakening, Marcus didn't fully process Nechtan's greeting.
"Whoozair?" he asked groggily, trying to sit up, but the tightly-wrapped fur prevented him from doing so. He floundered hopelessly for his gladius, which lay behind him, with his free arm.
Nechtan reached his hand into the twilit tent and grabbed Marcus' forearm before it sought purchase on the gladius. "Stand down, centurion," Nechtan said, in his best semblance of a Roman accent. "It's just me, Nechtan!"
Marcus settled and placed his arm back around Esca, who stirred again, but didn't wake (as far as Marcus knew). Marcus, coming slowly out of his sleepy state, smiled to Nechtan. "Don't scare me like that. Had you given me one more second you probably wouldn't have that arm any longer."
Nechtan chuckled. "You two had better hurry up. I've taken a look at the directions and if we get going soon we should arrive in Lucus Argentus by midday. Be ready in ten!"
"Alright, we'll be out in a second," Marcus replied. Nechtan winked cheekily, as he had done last night, before closing the tent flap and returning to Lucia and Aelia, crunching across the grass.
He can't think that we would possibly... Marcus' thought dropped off as he felt Esca jerk again.
Esca spoke as he awoke fully, turning over in the bedroll. "Good morning, mo milis."
Marcus' chest felt warm and heavy and he smiled to Esca. "Today's the day when we start our new life together."
Esca leaned in and gave him a quick, chasté kiss. "Our life together began a long time ago."
It had taken nearly thirty minutes for Esca and Marcus to leave their tent, rather than Nechtan's prescribed ten, and Nechtan took on a combination of surliness and nervousness, his normal smile slightly falling. Esca and Marcus finally packed up their tent and belongings, loading them into their cart.
"We're nearly half an hour late!" Nechtan said, as he cracked the reins of this large, grey steed and they trotted along the road to the mountains in the distance.
Esca looked confused. "It's not like you to be impatient or worry," he said, calling forward from Tapaidh as he and Marcus trailed Nechtan, Lucia and Aelia.
"Just a bit of anxiety," he called back from ahead. "Dreams coming true, all of that, you know."
"The passive-agressive bit is new as well!" Esca called back, and Marcus chuckled.
The fivesome travelled along the road through the increasingly-hilly countryside as the autumn sun ascended in the sky. It was a very clear day, the crisp breezes of autumn blowing between the hills of wilting grass and flowerless heather. The mountains came closer and closer on the horizon as the hills they crossed became filled with trees, each more than the last. Soon it was a veritable forest, and the reds and oranges of autumn tinted the streaming sunlight at they moved along.
The warm light didn't match the air, though. The soft, chilling breezes became cutting gusts of wind, streaming down from the mountains ahead. Everyone pulled their furs tighter and little Aelia cried out against the cold. Her mother held her closer to her breast and coddled the little one. All eyes were streaming from the cold wind, from Marcus and Lucia's soft, warm browns to Esca and Nechtan's cutting grey and green. The horses shivered underneath them and smiles fell.
We'll be there soon, Marcus thought, Our new home, together. The warmth in his chest from that recurring thought was enough to keep him from breaking down with cold.
Marcus felt a touch on his numbing, red hand. He looked down, and perched atop his fingers was Esca's hand, as cold and red as his. He looked over to Esca, whom he discovered was already staring at him, and smiled.
Esca returned the smile with his own sly smirk, which lit up his face, contrasting with his reddened ears and watering, blue-grey eyes. Marcus took Esca's hand in his, and they warmed slowly as the wind howled in their ears and they slogged through the forest.
A strange feeling came over the group as they trundled on through the forest, with its cold winds in spite of the warm light. The same mix of anxiety, frustration, excitement and nervousness that had overcome Nechtan had blanketed all four adults. It had been nearly six hours since they left camp, and most of that time was spent riding through the forest they currently were in. It felt as though the forest was never-ending.
At every turn in the road, Marcus felt his heart clench and his breath catch, and Esca's grip on his hand tightened slightly, but every time the group was greeted by the seemingly endless winding tunnel of bark and leaves, snaking through the hills.
"We're never going to get out of here," he mused. The others chuckled softly, happy that someone had broken the ice.
"According to these directions, we're only a few miles out from the town," Nechtan said. Instantly, everyone smiled, relieved.
Nechtan and Lucia, leading, rounded a corner. Esca spoke up. "Finally, we're almost -"
But Lucia had cut him off, pointing straight ahead down the tunnel of trees. "The town!"
Marcus and Esca rounded the corner as well. Marcus hunched forward over Audaculus to look into the distance. Ahead lay a flat, straight expanse of road. Indeed, in the distance the whitewashed walls and red rooves of Roman towns shone in the full daylight, far beyond the forest, which was thinning.
In the forest that remained, for about two miles, the foliage slowly began to be dominated by one breed. Its dying, flame-red leaves were shaped like arrowheads, and the branches were coated in rough, grey, pearly bark. Silver birches. "No wonder it's called silver groves," Lucia said, smiling. Nechtan coaxed his stallion into a faster trot, and Marcus and Esca mirrored him. They doubletimed down the road to the village, and after a few minutes the sunbeams became stronger and stronger as the autumn canopy dwindled above them.
They passed the forest edge, and the scene of the Cambrian countryside spilled out before them. In the distance, to their left, they could just barely see the slighest lick of deep teal ocean, and to the right rose distant clouded mountains, regaled in reds, yellows and oranges. The sun warmed the group, chilled to the core by icy winds, slowly as they advanced to the town.
The air was silent, but filled with excitement as they approached the gated palisade, about twice the height of a man, with white walls and red rooves poking over it. Two men stood guard on either side of the wooden arch that breached the palisade wall, guarding the town entrance. They were of typical Roman stock; beefy, olive-skinned, dark-haired and in the full regalia of the Roman army. They held long halberds, crossed over the gate.
Nechtan slowed his horse as they neared the gate, and the two guards stared suspiciously at the group, of two Romans and two who looked suspiciously British. Nechtan turned to his wife, behind him, and the thought passed between them without words. It'd be better if Lucia spoke, as the guards would likely trust her more than he or Esca.
Lucia, nodding, handed baby Aelia, fast asleep, to Nechtan and slid off the grey steed. She opened her mouth but one of the guards beat her to words.
"State your names and intents." Marcus glanced forward at the guard's accent, or rather, lack of one. He spoke Latin perfectly, without the slightest twinge of an accent. These two must have come straight out of Rome. He looked into the guard's eyes, and they had none of the welcoming warmth of Lucia's or his. Marcus scowled slightly, his chest feeling stony. He didn't have a good feeling about these two.
"My name is Lucia Rubellia Cinnianus," Lucia said, "And this is my husband, Janus Nautius Aquarius." As she lied, she pointed to Nechtan, who nodded.
The guard laughed. "Husband? Not slave? This man is no Roman." Marcus felt his stony chest grow tighter.
Nechtan spoke now. "My mother was a Brigante and my father was a Roman soldier. He was killed in battle when I was young, so my mother raised me. I speak with an accent because of this."
Now both guards laughed. "Why would we let some half-breed slime like you into this fine Roman city?"
Marcus' knuckles where white against Audaculus' reigns, and he slid from his horse, his face twisted into a scowl. He reached behind his back and drew his gladius, and he could hear the strain of string as Esca cocked his bow. Not even respect for the fallen soldier... even if it was a lie, Marcus thought, teeth grinding. "You will let us pass," he said, walking to the still-chuckling guards, his gladius extended a foot from them.
Both guards looked a bit intimidated and clutched their halberds. "If you threaten us, the fury of Rome will be set upon you," one said, snarling.
"Do you know who you're talking to?" Esca asked, his clear, British voice breaking the tense air, his arrow pulling back further into his fingers.
"I am Rome," Marcus added. He considered his words before he spoke. He wasn't fond of the arrogant or manipulative but this situation called for certain measures of arrogance and manipulation. "I am Marcus Flavius Aquila." He needn't explain further.
The last vestiges of humor left the guards' faces, but they didn't back down. "Prove it," one said. Marcus lifted his tunic and showed him the deep gash in his leg, purple from cold and healing.
They gaped for a second, and glanced at each other. Then, the refuting guard bowed deeply and the other parroted him, and they uncrossed the halberds. "It is a great honor to meet you, sir," the refuting guard said. His voice was weak and humbled.
"Stand like Romans," Marcus said, annoyed at the dramatics, although they weren't unexpected. The guards stood tight at attention, as though Marcus was their commander. "You will not bother these four." Marcus signaled to Aelia in Nechtan's arms, whom they hadn't noticed. "You will let them pass unmolested and respect them as you would me. They are as Roman as you or I."
"Yes, sir," they said in stereo. "Welcome to Lucus Argentus." Marcus shook his head and remounted Audaculus, sheathing his gladius. The guards stood back from the palisade arch and the group trotted into town, the dirt road changing to a cobblestone street. Familiar Roman houses greeted them, and before long they arrived at the central square of town, where the forum stood, milling with the people of town, coming to talk of the latest news, inspect the artisan's wares or survey the grocers' stands, stocked with autumn fruits and greens.
"I'm no Roman," Esca said, and he playfully punched Marcus on the shoulder. Marcus smiled widely.
"I didn't hear you protest Roman town life with me."
"Being nonroman and enjoying Roman towns aren't mutually exclusive," Esca mused, taking Marcus' offered hand in his. Lucia and Nechtan, along with Aelia, had already gone ahead to browse the stands. Esca shouted something in Gaelic to Nechtan ahead, who nodded and smiled, waving to show he understood.
Esca turned to Marcus again and said, "I told him we'd meet back up here in an hour or two."
Marcus squeezed Esca's hand tighter. "Let's find our home."
Lucus Argentus, most likely for its newness, was a very empty town compared to others of the same size in Britannia. It was larger than Calleva, but the lots were more vast and spread out, with plenty of spaces for gardens. As he and Esca rode through the residential district of town, Marcus saw signposts along the road in front of most of the villas, inscribed with the name of to whom the villa belonged.
Unfortunately, Opulentus hadn't prescribed the location of their villa in his directions, so for nearly an hour Marcus could feel his heart beat quicker as he came past and read every signpost, but each one would yield the name of a stranger.
He and Esca were silent but the air of nervousness and excitement was shared between them as they trundled through the street. There was a fair bit of annoyance as well, though.
We've already been a whole hour from the forum, Marcus thought, remembering when they would meet up with Nechtan and Lucia. I wonder where they're staying, he thought, They can't have much money.
"Marcus," Esca said, pointing to a signpost along the bend they were passing, "What does this one say?" Esca still wasn't able to read Latin, and he too was growing worried of time.
The signpost was ten feet ahead, but what it said was unmistakable.
RESERVED FOR THE HONORABLE M. FLAVIUS AQUILA AND COMPANY
Marcus was silent for a moment, but an unmistakable smile filled his face, and his cheeks were growing red. Esca new his tell. "Is this it?"
"It is." Marcus looked to Esca, whose familiar smile filled his face as well. Esca slowed the horses and they turned into the dirt path just beyond the signpost. "This is the place where we'll be spending the rest of our lives together."
Before them, beyond the dirt path, lay an impeccable, sizable white villa, its red tile roof glowing in the sunlight. It was smaller than Uncle's in Calleva, but was more than they would ever need.
"Your uncle does too much for us," Esca said, thinking the same as Marcus.
"Nah, he's cheap. He figures this means no more presents at Saturnalia."
Esca chuckled at the joke. "And you said Romans respected their elders?"
"I was kidding." Marcus paused. "He'll expect twice the amount of gifts from us as well." Marcus humbled a bit when he saw Esca's stern but entertained face. "Jokes aside," Marcus gathered, "I appreciate this more than any gift from anyone."
They had entered the courtyard on the side of villa, and Esca slipped from Tapaidh as Marcus slipped from Audaculus. Marcus couldn't help but notice Esca's sly grin as he unlashed Tapaidh. "You appreciate this gift more than any other gift?"
Marcus remained silent, but cocked his head, confused.
Esca continued. "More than the gift from your gods and mine, of crossing our paths?" Esca led Tapaidh to a stables off the courtyard, and even with his back turned to Marcus, Marcus could almost see the cheeky smirk on his face.
"You know that's a trick question," he finally said as he led Audaculus too to the stables. "Sly bastard," he said, spotting Esca's stormy eyes over the wall dividing the stables.
Esca just laughed, and the two men tied up their steeds. They left the stables and turned to each other. "So this is it," Esca said. Marcus offered his hand, and Esca took it, and they walked together up the small stone path to the front door.
Esca pulled a key from deep in his tunic. "It was enclosed with the directions." The brass key slid into the hole in the mahogany door, and at Esca's turn, a deep but quiet thunk came from inside it.
Marcus nervously pushed the door open, and in front of them spilled the parlor of a fine Roman villa. The floor was decorated with colored tiles in beautiful designs, and the walls were painted with swirling accents in deep reds and blues. But the most shocking thing of all sat on a red couch on the wall beside them.
There sat a young boy, his eyes directed at the floor, swinging his legs aimlessly. He didn't seem to take notice of Marcus and Esca, who stepped over the threshold and approached him.
Marcus and Esca were washed out of their excitement, and confusion replaced it instead. "Hello there," Marcus tentatively said. The little boy stopped his legs and met Marcus' eyes, giving him a hard glare. His eyes were a mysterious hazel, poking out from just below a curtain of fine, auburn hair that almost skirted across his high cheekbones, where a smattering of freckles lay. His skin wasn't olive like a Roman's, but as milky white as Esca's. "Have we entered the wrong house?" Marcus turned to Esca, but Esca said nothing, and his lover's face wore a cryptic expression, as if he understood a truth Marcus had yet to grasp and Esca was refusing to hint at.
Marcus, Esca's expression not helping his confusion, turned back to the boy. "What do they call you?"
"Afon," the boy grunted. He suddenly looked a slightest bit fearful, but then spoke again. "My name Afon... is." His Latin was extremely rough, and his accent was reminiscent of Esca's, but offbeat and different and much thicker.
"Afon, are you lost?" Marcus asked. Afon's stony glare turned inquisitive as well.
A few second's awkward silence passed before Afon spoke. "Lost from my people." Marcus said nothing, and Esca sighed.
Something flew from Esca's mouth in Gaelic. "Are you from Caledonia?" Esca asked the boy. Apparently, the Gaelic didn't register with him, and he directed a stony, confused glare to Esca. Now he tried Cambrian. "Are you of the old tribes of Cambria?"
Afon's hazel eyes lit up, and his expression lifted slightly. "I am of the Silures." Afon paused. "Your Cambrian isn't too good. From which tribe are you?"
"I am a Brigante, from the north. My name is Esca. Cambrian's not my native tongue, of course."
"Esca, what's going on?" Marcus was still clueless. This boy is a Briton, but why is he in our house? he thought, desperately searching for a reason.
Esca switched to Latin. "This boy is a Silure. Do you know of that tribe?"
"Yes," Marcus said, slight guilt coming over him. "The Silures were one of the last tribes to hold out against the Romans during the conquest of Cambria." He paused and was still intensely confused. "But the Silures were defeated sixty some years ago."
"Yes, but there are still pockets of resistance."
"That bad man called you by your name," Afon said in Cambrian, to Esca. "Are you his slave?"
"What has he done to you to make you say he's a bad man?"
"All slaves resent their masters, even if in secret." Silence came between the Britons.
"Esca, why is this boy in our house?"
Esca folded his arms and answered Marcus. "He came with the house, Marcus." Suddenly, it clicked in Marcus' mind, and he glanced to Afon, whose stony hazel glare pierced him. A bit of cold embarrassment at his own stupidity trickled into his chest.
"I'm not having a slave in our house," Marcus said to Esca. "He deserves freedom like the freedom I gave you." But Esca cryptically shook his head and returned to Afon.
"That man may own you by law but in practice he will be your friend, not master, as I will also."
"Who is that man?" Afon asked, desperate for Esca's answers. "And why do you trust a Roman?" His eyes glowed with disgust.
"He is the bravest, noblest and most honorable man I have ever known, and we have saved each other's lives many times."
"You see what they've done to our homeland. Their acts are ignoble and dishonorable, and they are unworthy of any Briton's trust, lest he want a slitted throat."
Afon was pointing angrily at Marcus while he spoke, and some of their conversation, although in a tongue foreign to Marcus, seemed to register because of this. "Afon," he tried, although the same glare met him. "Afon, I will not hurt you or command you as a master does to his slave."
Afon spoke in his rough Latin again. "Romans only take and harm, never do they give mercy."
Marcus was at a loss for words, but glanced at Esca, whose face was twisted in frustration. He gathered his thoughts carefully before speaking. "This man, Esca, was once my slave. But served me faithfully, and never left my side until I forced him to. We trust each other more than anyone else in the Empire, and even when I freed him he refused to go." We are in love, Marcus thought, but he stopped the words before they came out of his mouth. That much was enough for the boy.
"Romans steal sons and daughters. Turn them against families, as you with him did."
"I stayed willingly, for I love this man." Esca's Cambrian was raised in volume a bit at the end.
"Then you shall have your heart broken and your throat slit in the night when the Roman leaves you."
"His name is Marcus." Esca's words were stern.
"I do not care. Romans cannot show love or mercy. They slaughtered my brothers like cattle and sold the rest of us as slaves."
"I feel your plight, and mine is the same. But Marcus does not kill innocent Britons. He is different."
"How do you know he will not betray you?"
"Because," Esca was nearly yelling now, "He had his chance! A dozen times he could have killed me or left me for dead, but he stayed by my side as I stayed by his. He could have easily defeated me if he wanted to, overpowered me and cut me clean open." Esca paused. "I gave him many reasons to hate me and turn his fist against me and murder me. But he is a much higher man than that. He is above that."
Afon's proud head dropped slightly. "Do you trust him, Esca of the Brigantes?"
"With my life." Esca's voice was normal and calm again.
"We were told legends of the bravery and wisdom of the Brigantine warriors. If you trust him..." Afon paused. "Then I respect your judgment and trust him as well."
Silence fell again, and the three men stood awkwardly in the parlor, but Esca's smile was telling. Afon's expression hadn't changed, but resentfully he put his hand out to Marcus. Marcus took it and shook, a bit bitter about being out of the loop, until Afon spoke.
"This is brave and wise man you love," Afon said, stumbling with the words. Marcus blushed slightly and then glanced at Esca, whose slight smile and raised eyebrow seemed to say What's it to you if he knows?
"He greatly puts trust in you," Afon continued in rough Latin, "and despite you are Roman, I trust you the same by his judgment, domine." Marcus twitched slightly at the last word, strangely ashamed.
Marcus spoke, and kneeled down in front of the couch, meeting Afon at eye level. "I promise you, Afon, I will treat you like the human you are, as an equal. I will not order you around and abuse you as countless other Romans would. But you shall follow this one order." Marcus paused. He hated giving orders. "You are to call me 'Marcus', not 'Master', or 'domine', or 'sir'. The same goes for Esca." Afon looked to Esca, who nodded.
"Very well, Marcus," Afon said. "You say that of Esca you once owned him as well. He served you well and you gave him freedom."
Marcus paused. "Yes, Afon. I did."
"Will that ever be done to me?" Afon's stony expression became a bit pleading as well, and both Marcus and Esca remained silent.
Marcus' head was swimming, and his palms were beginning to sweat. He turned to Esca, who seemed the same. What if he runs away if I say no? What is stopping him from running away now? He didn't know what to say, and was frantically searching for an answer.
Finally, Marcus' mouth opened, and Afon clenched his eyes shut, as if expecting to be punished with brute force. Marcus paused, and placed a reassuring arm on Afon's shoulder, though it didn't seem to help. "You are safer here with us, Afon, free or not free. If you were to leave..." Marcus' voice softened, tying hard not to offend the boy, "although I respect your bravery, I highly doubt you'd find the Silures again." The note of sadness and shame was heavy in his voice, and Afon seemed to pick up on it. "Even if you did, you'd likely come back to Rome, captured during a raid, as a slave again, and without our protection."
"Protection?" Afon asked, after a pause of resent. "Soldiers, you are?"
Esca spoke before Marcus found words. "This is Marcus Flavius Aquila, the man whose bravery, strength and perseverance, on his travels through Caledonia with me, is revered throughout the entire Empire."
Afon's eyes widened; apparently even he had heard of Marcus' deeds, presumably from overhearing his former masters. He opened his mouth to speak, but another Brythonic accent broke through the air, from beyond the mahogany door.
"Hellooo?" Marcus and Esca recognized Nechtan's teasing voice, as he and Lucia, holding Aelia, who suckled on her mother's breast, stepped over the threshold and into the villa parlor. "You were late, so we figured we'd find you!"
Afon looked confused, as did Nechtan when his cutting green eyes found Afon's misty hazel. "Oh, hello," Nechtan said, cocking his head. "What's your name?"
"Afon." He smiled to Nechtan. "Are you a brother to Esca? You look the same."
"No, no. But we're both Brigantes. My name is Nechtan, and this is Lucia and our child, Aelia." Afon smiled at the baby, jumping off the couch and hurrying over to the child. Aelia gurgled at his reddish-brown hair, reaching her tiny fists to inspect the locks, of a color she'd never seen before. Afon backed away a bit, laughing softly with Lucia, and turned to Nechtan again. "Can you speak my tongue as well?" he asked in Cambrian.
Nechtan smiled feebly. "Sorry... I don't understand what you just said." Afon looked crestfallen, but glad to have another Briton around.
"It's okay, Nechtan. Those two have been jabbering away for the past hour in Cambrian."
Nechtan smirked. "Typical Esca."
Silence fell for a moment, but Esca piped up. "Where will you two be staying?"
Lucia and Nechtan glanced to each other, and then Lucia spoke. "We were hoping to find a villa for sale in town... unfortunately the only ones not taken are the very most expensive, even with the generous amounts of coin we... collected from my father."
Esca answered immediately. "You can stay with us as long as you like."
Marcus nodded and turned to Afon. "Afon, how many bedrooms are there?"
"Three," the boy said, matter-of-factly.
"Perfect! One for Esca and I, one for Nechtan and Lucia and Aelia, and one for you."
Afon looked a bit taken aback. "But I am to stay in the servants' quarters. That is what they constructed for."
"I said you were my equal, Afon. I will not stop you if you wish to stay in the servant's quarters, but I insist you stay in a normal bedroom." Afon remained silent, but looked appreciative. "Why don't you show us around, Afon? You seem to know this villa."
"Follow me, then," Afon said, a stubborn smile pulling on his lips as he led Marcus, Esca and their friends through their new home, from the bedrooms to the courtyard, to the gardens to the small, private bath complex. Esca clutched Marcus' hand tightly the entire way, a deep, heating warmth growing in their chest. Nechtan and Lucia did the same. All of them were happy to find a home, together with friends and lovers.
A/N: Took me a long time to write this, and I have no idea why. I hope you liked it! :D I know, there were only like two slashy scenes. I'll try and make the next one more slashy! :3