A/N: Um, so, hi

First of all, this chapter is dedicated to 1ooowords, since I feel like I don't deserve such friendship

And I've adopted a political move from one of the books I've read (it's called the Captive Prince, it's a trilogy, it's awesome, and it's gay af), so credits to them.

It's been a while since I've written anything for this fandom, and I'm only getting my groove back for this pairing.

I know this fandom is like, dead but I'm hoping there are some survivors, or I'm just going to stop updating this piece once and for all.

A shame really, I really love this AU

He was only a boy when he met her.

He remembered how she looked like, and she hadn't changed much in terms of physical and mental appearances. Even then, she still had her hair braided, she still had that guarded look in her eyes everytime she conversed with someone, she still tapped the hilt of her sword with her thumb subconsciously everytime she was feeling nervous or had a distinct feeling that something bad will happen.

When he was first infromed by the senators of their situation where they would be working together for the next of their lives, one that was said by the Praetors themselves. He knew that she was one to be wary with, because no woman, much less child, in Rome would dare be in the same position with the men. She was only fourteen, and yet it was said she had buried fear and hatred inside the hearts of men.

"She is the legacy," One of the senators, Blandus was his name, told him as they made their way down the halls to meet with the girl. "A daughter of the Goddess Bellona."

"A demigod?" Jason questioned, his eyebrows shot up as he gave a glance to the old man. That would explain all the rumours then, if a daughter of Bellona was what she was, then it was no surprise that she was chosen as the next praetor in line. Though Bellona's spawns were scarce, they were known for their natural leadership and their excellent instinct in battlefield, as well as their dark wit and humour when planning said battlefield.

"Her mother is the goddess of war, yes. Intelligent, feet almost as swift as Achilles, and like her mother, she has the songs of war buried under her flesh," The old man gave a withered smile to the boy, the wrinkles at the corner of his eyes became more visible. "A demigod such as yourself, son of Jupiter."

Jason was quiet for a while, letting his feet guide him to the throne room, where she would be waiting. A legacy for the post, a daughter of the goddess, and yet, he had heard much about her. He was told he too was chosen to be legacy, but the Praetors, senators, as well as the centurions were so impressed with this girl, they decided to make both of them fight for the part, but not to the death. The winner shall be the one who would be next in line, while the other shall be what the winner desires, where the consequences of getting a position as respectful as a praetor or to be thrown down to be a slave would be vary.

He was thrilled at the idea of himself being praetor, but this was something he had to fight something for.

There was a chuckle beside him that pulled him out of his musings. "You seem worried," Blandus noted, nodding at Jason's fingers, where they were twisting the bronze ring around his pinky. He reluctantly stopped his fidgeting as the man continued to talk. "Worry not, her actions are just, only following what was told. You shouldn't be afraid, her loyalty is far more respected than any men that have walked on this land."

"You mean, she will not kill me out of spontaneous actions if she ever felt please," Jason clarified for him, the corner of his mouth raising a bit when there was a snort of amusement. "She can try, but I'd like to think that I have the upper hand of the situation for being male, no?"

Blandus clicked his tongue in what Jason assumed was pity. "Don't be vain in your abilities, son of Jupiter, when you have not even met her yet. You would be surprised how hard the sandy floors are actually are when she forces you to kneel, and how sharp her sword is even when it has yet to touch your flesh."

They turned around the corner of the hallway, seeing the large doors looming up at the front. "You sound as if you speak from experience, Blandus," Jason chuckled.

"I have seen many young men being treated such, I could almost feel their misery and shame from where I stand as I observe them, quite an amusement for me to see the men cowering in front of women for once," The words were said so simply that Jason couldn't help but chortle, immediately silencing himself once they were standing in front of the enormous doors.

Blandus turned towards him. "Remember, I'll introduce you, and you only answer the questions that will be directed to you." He paused, clicking his tongue once. "Praetor Michael would have a lot to say."

He rapped the door twice, and Jason straightened himself as the doors were opened, schooling his expression into one of passiveness as he could hear the murmurs of voices within the room. He smoothly walked in while looking down with Blandus walking slightly in front of him, the older man's toga trailing behind him as they went nearer to those voices. Jason saw Blandus stopped and nodded his head once in respect.

"Blandus," The sound of his praetor's voice was merry when he called out. "I'm glad that you and Jason could join us."

At the sound of his name, Jason looked up, and was stunned when he found the girl standing beside Michael was staring at them both, her eyes shifted from Blandus to him. She held his stare for a few moments, where he saw something in those orbs he couldn't put his finger on, before she settled on looking at Blandus instead as he began to speak.

"Praetor Michael," Blandus greeted, folding his hands in front of him. "I was informed by the consuls that my student would have a duel with Reyna," His kind eyes met the girl's, giving her a small smile where she politely nodded at him as acknowledgement. "For your position if any, ah, misgivings were to happen to you that an indirect heir of sorts should take over."

Michael seemed to suppressed a smirk when he heard the way the old man tried not to sound as blunt as possible. "Of course, of course, I was only talking to Reyna on how I wouldn't mind if she did take my place, as much as I thought that Jason would be my first choice in the first place. But, since the senators have seen her on how skilled she is in her place at the colesium in those months of entertainment, and was impressed as whole of Rome of how she could handle the sword, we would want someone as her in the role of Praetor," He cleared his throat slightly. "Even if there were some disagreements of sorts."

Jason couldn't help but feel something bitter rise in his chest as he heard Michael's words. Was he not good enough? Was he that unskilled that this girl would take his initial position as praetor? But, he didn't doubt Blandus' training, he knew his mentor was one of the best men that had fought in wars, who had even trained Michael himself. Granted, he could be harsh at times when Jason took a step wrong or handled the gladius the wrong way, but that was what they were drilled for as Romans, to be expectant in the horrors that would come upon them.

Especially if they were demigods.

"I mean you no offence, Jason," Michael interjected quickly when Jason started to shift the slightest bit. "I know your abilities as a warrior, and how grateful we are to have someone such as yourself to have you with us, but it's uncommon for Rome to accept a woman as a candidate."

Even if it was done begrudgingly, were the unspoken words that hung between them.

Jason nodded, understanding, but still chagrined. "Of course."

"Praetor, I would like some word with you, alone if you will," Blandus spoke. "Where it needs your approval."

Michael stood up. "Very well. If you please step outside with Jason, Reyna."

Reyna bowed her head, before swiftly leaving the room without so much of sparing Jason a glance or a word, and he followed her, closing the doors behind him silently.

The hallway was still empty when he turned to face her, and she was standing there while looking at him with casualty rested on her shoulders, none of the usual timidness or even wariness of a woman he would always see when they passed by him. She faced him with a cool gaze, those dark eyes sharp with challenge as if he was going to sneer at her like all man do when they face her.

"I'm not going to murder you." Jason went straight to the point.

She didn't seem phased by the sentence. "You have the chance now. There's no one here, and the guards wouldn't even stir if they find me dead."

The words she said were calm, collected, and that disturbed him.

"I'll cause a pandemonium."

"Lies aren't necessary, son of Jupiter," she said. "You'll waste your breath."

He knew that, he knew that everyone would rather have her dead than let a woman rule over them. Despite what Praetor Michael said of some people accepting her to take his place, majority of them, mostly the guards and soldiers of Rome, would refuse. They look down to her, they spat at her feet when they have the chance, called her a praetor's bitch behind their backs. Jason heard the insults, how they leered at her appearance of a growing woman but crowed at her position of becoming a successful leader.

"They hate me for I am, for what I can do," She spoke simply, as if this was a conversation she had encountered for many times. "In their eyes, I will always be another bitch," The wry of her lips was slight, humourless. "It doesn't matter if Praetor Michael approves, their outlook on me won't change."

Then, she looked at him, her expression carefully neutral. "You look curious."

He was. "Am I?"

"You're curious to why I want to become praetor."

She was right, and he didn't deny it. "Do you do it for the goddess Belona?"

"I do this for myself," she answered instead, again carefully, as if she was hiding something. "And that is all I ask for."

He wanted to ask more, to want her to tell him the real reason of her determination despite knowing the consequences of going through the progress. He was about to reply when Blandus walked out. "Jason, we must go," Then, he nodded to Reyna. "I wish you luck, daughter of Belona, may the gods give you their blessing."

She only nodded, before turning away and walked into the room again, where Praetor Michael would be waiting.

Jason waited when they were in another hallway when he asked a question, dropping his tone. "Is she...?"

Blandus looked at him sharply. "Do not underestimate her, Jason."

The words were spoken too softly that the boy had to strain his ears. "She's always-"

"She is everything but a pet," Blandus cut him off. "You don't see any golden metal around her wrists or neck, do you? And the clothing of a pet is almost as extravagant as their owners, do not be fooled from what you see of Reyna and Michael."

"But she was a slave."

"Her father was one of the best centurions in Rome, until he turned mad with grief when the goddess left him the second time after Reyna was born. A slave took her in when he died, and one of the guards took pity on her and decided to train her the moment she could walk. She was a natural, and she became a challenge between men. There was a dare between them all that who manage to beat her shouldn't be quiet about it, they have to sing about it."

Jason glanced at him in surprise. "She has an older sibling?"

"A sister, the same age as your sister."

"What happened to her?"

Blandus wrinkled his nose. "A pet."

Jason almost understood why Reyna wanted to become a praetor. "Whose pet? And does she fight?"

"Her mistress is a widow, and yes she does fight, she handles the sword as well as Reyna does, but Hylla didn't have the chance to grow like her younger sister, where she didn't have the help of the praetors to show her capability. She was captured when they found out that a woman dared wield a sword. She was sold as a slave, and was bought to make a pet," Blandus shook his head almost pitifully. "A wasted chance."

Jason knew of how the royalty, senators, and other people of high authority would take slaves as their pets. It was something to boost about. When a pet wore more accessories and paint, more people would look highly to their master, where their wealth is showed that way.

He always thought of it as revolting, since the golden cuffs and collar they wore would remind him of the animals they captured, and he saw the way how yielding those slaves were to their masters, how twisted the love they get from them.

The owner and the slave would always be the same gender, to avoid bastardy, even if it was almost common among them.

"Go rest, son of Jupiter," Blandus' voice pulled Jason out of his thoughts. "I will see you before you enter the ring, for now, you must sleep."

Jason nodded, and made a sharp turn to the right towards his bedroom.

The next morning, Jason woke up before dawn.

He got dressed, wearing his armour when there was a knock on the door, and he gave permission to enter.

Dakota popped in, and Jason couldn't help but let the grin stretch across his face as one of his close friends made himself comfortable on his chaise. "Dakota."

"Jason," Dakota mocked, raising an eyebrow as he propped his feet up. "Getting ready to be killed?"

"It's not a battle to the death this time."

"Shame, a lot of people would want to see a head being decapitated, because I know I do."

Jason paused. "Do you hate her?"

Dakota snorted. "Hate her? No. Dislike? Maybe. But for reasons other than her sex, is because she humiliated me by a duel."

"Are you here to give me some pointers?"

"Yes," The older boy answered idly, plucking a grape from the small table and threw it in his mouth. "She's very careful, her actions are not brash. Every blow was thought of before we would even think about the move," he frowned. "I could have beaten her."

Jason chuckled. "Did you smuggle some wine in your canteen again?"

Dakota only hummed, but the beam on his face gave him away. "Probably, and it was diluted mind you. But she's really good, I may have gain some respect for her in my drunken state. I think she would beat me even if I was fully sober."

Jason tried to keep that in mind. He grabbed his helm, sword, and shield, making his way towards the dining room for breakfast. "Have you seen Bobby and Gwen?"

"Probably eating right now," Dakota trotted after him, slapping a hand on his shoulder. "You'll do fine, Jason, just don't murder her and you'll be praetor."

Jason thinned his lips. "I should hope so."

The colesium was roaring with people. Jason could hear the way they shook the ground with every slam of sandled feet against stone, where men and women alike screamed their enthusiasm as they waited for the two fighters to make their appearance.

He readjusted the hold of his sword with his helm in place, waiting for the gates to open. When it did, where the sound of chain against metal screeched towards him, he was slapped with a blast of humid air the moment he stepped out, the sun glaring down on them all.

Looking up, he saw the people seated with purpose, they waited for this to happen as their faces were red with exhilaration. Sitting with ease and care on the middle of row of the colesium were the praetors, shaded under a canvas that were propped for them and the senators with their pets on either sides of them, muttering inaudibly with each other. Some slaves were feeding their masters, their golden bonds shining under the light. Jason tore his gaze away when he saw one of them kissed their master.

He focused his mind at task, meeting Reyna's dark eyes from the other side of the clearing with armour and weapon of her own, helm flashed brightly under the sun.

For the first time in history, a woman will fight for the position of the praetor.

She was at ease, as if this was a normal thing for her as he saw the way her shoulders were not as tense as some people would experience, where there wasn't any bellicose shown on her face. Her braid rested on her breast plate while she stood tall, never wavering at the shouts and spats people aimed towards her. Jason felt a spark of pity in his chest, how the people thought it was degrading to be a woman and a warrior at the same time.

There was a horn that blasted around, and for a moment, every person that attended was silenced, where the only thing that Jason heard was the sound of his own controlled breathing, the crunch of sand under his feet as he shifted his stance, arms tensed, sword raised.

And then, he ran.

The bellow of cheers ruptured again as sword met sword, where metal against metal rang between them as Reyna parred his attack, using both hands to resist his weight as he pushed down to her, where he had the advantage of being slightly taller than she was. Until, she whirled around, loosening the tangle between them, and started to attack.

As Dakota mentioned, her hits were as calculated as she was, where every swing, every jab of her sword had a destination on its own. But they were not meant to kill, it was meant for him deflect every blow she made, and if he wasn't careful, he could get injured.

Be as it may, her blows were not as innocuous as one might think. He could feel her hits that vibrated to his core, strong and swift that more times than not he had to tighten his grip on the hilt of his sword to prevent it from slipping.

He got her locked into another struggle, where her lips were pursed with strain as he pushed her down, her legs bent while she used a hand to push against the surface of her sword, palm bleeding from where it managed to slice her skin. With a heave, she pushed her sword onto him with force he didn't expect, causing their weapons to be free again. And then, she kicked him in the stomach.

He clutched his middle, hearing the outrage from the crowd as he watched her take a few steps back and started to circle around him, her eyes never leaving his.

He decided to get cocky.

"Are you tired already?" he called out, trying not to wince as he felt the dull pain. "You could rest, and we'll end this."

She didn't answer, merely continuing on what she was doing.

Without warning, she slashed out and nicked his shoulder, where a fine line of blood started to appear as he stumbled back in surprise.

She let a small emotion of victory shown on her face as she gave him a small turn of lips, and he felt some irritation at that while he pressed a hand onto his wound to apply pressure.

He ran for her again.

She expected it to happen when she slid to the side, letting him barge his way through like a bull. But he was quick to turn his body and gave another blow towards her before she could do anything else, and swords were slashing again.

He didn't know how long they were on the field, but his limbs were getting heavy as more cuts started to appear on his skin. He was proud to say the least that he did the same thing to her, where a cut ran across her bicep and her cheek as his small victory.

Reyna then landed a blow that was so tactless that it was different from her usual hits, causing him to be off guard as she slammed her feet into his chest, and with horror dropping in his stomach, Jason fell on the sandy ground.

His sword was thrown out of his reach, and he was about to get up when another sword impaled into the ground just beside his head, the blade grazing his temple that he could have lost an eye along with one portion of his brain if she was a real enemy.

Looking up, he saw her breathing heavily above him. Strands of hair escaped from her helm and clung onto her neck, her arms glistened with sweat as the sun shone behind her, making her look like the warrior she was meant to be.

The crowd was lapsed into shocked silence as they heard the way she yanked back her sword, allowing Jason to slowly stand up as he watched the way her eyes flickered towards Michael, who gave her a smile.

She didn't allow anything show on her face as she face Jason, and he watched an the way her eyes flitted around his face, as if she was searching for something. She opened her mouth to say what she desired, but in the end clamped it shut before giving him a nod too, whirling around towards the entrance she got in as the murmur started to rise among the people seated above them.

He looked up towards the praetors, where Michael was nodding to what Praetor Felix -a young praetor appointed two summers ago- was saying privately, and then, both of them stood up.

Jason watched as the senators and pets alike followed their leaders out, before jogging towards where Reyna had gone as he grabbed his sword on the way.

He had to blink to get used to the shaded space as he tried looking for her, and saw her disappearing around the corner as she stalked away.

"Wait!"

Running, he tried to catch up despite feeling the ache in his bones, taking off the helm as he settled his sword back at his waist, and hastened his pace.

Reyna was already making her way to the main building, and he managed to walk by her side just when she climbed up the stairs.

"I need to talk to you," Jason called out breathlessly, wiping the sweat from his forehead.

She didn't look at him as they arrived to the top. "What is there to talk about? It's over, you have no more business with me."

"You still have to tell me what are you going to do with me."

She glanced at him then. "It's none of your concern for now."

He huffed. "It's very much my concern, since it is about me. Are you going to turn me into a slave?"

"Hardly," She replied limpidly, turning into a corner as they passed by people, who had their eyes wide when they saw who they were. "You are too loved to be a lowly slave, and if I did that to you, the hate they already have for me would be more prominent than before."

He felt something cold pass him. "You would do that if you have the chance?"

Suddenly, she stopped in front of a door, and he managed to avoid bumping into her by manoeuvring to the side. Her look was unreadable as she faced at him. "Wouldn't that be a waste for Rome?"

"Jason."

He felt a flash of annoyance at being disturbed when he heard the voice, and turned around to meet icy blue eyes and pale blond hair.

"Octavian."