FrogNecromancer

Logan X female reader series:

Prequel // coming soon

Betting on a losing dog // ~38k finished

Sequel // coming soon

Caracalla X female reader:

sun-kissed apricots (Chapter 5/?)

Joaquin Phoenix Cinematic Universe:

Life sucks. But not when I'm with you. // Arthur Fleck X female reader

Help me get better (don't leave me alone) // Joe (You Were Never Really Here) X female reader

Other:

Chapter warnings: alcoholism, homophobia, Latin homophobic slurs, mention of violence and death, brief mention of suicidal ideation, brief talk about sex.

One late afternoon, a few very long days later, you were lounging on a lectus in your rooms, a glass of diluted wine in your hand, as the long golden rays of the sun warmed your skin. An almost content expression settled on your face, bordering on a smile, as you soaked in the delightful warmth. You had been able to convince Blandus to smuggle a jug of wine into your prison and you were forever grateful for the sweet distraction of intoxication. Thank the gods for wine.

In that very moment life was not too bad, or at least it could have been a lot worse. 

You had not faced Caracalla since that strange encounter in the gardens and as much as it pained you to admit it, it bothered you. Although you were not entirely sure why, in the name of Jupiter, you would miss the sickly emperor.

Sometimes when it was quiet at night with only the gentle sound of the wind keeping you company and when sleep would not find you, you would think back to his clumsy attempt at singing.

How he had not hit a single note.

How he had strung together words so helplessly that it had almost been endearing. 

Almost.

It was always in those quiet moments, that he seemed to worm his way into your skull.

You shifted slightly, getting more comfortable on the silken, padded surface, as you tried to shake the unwelcome thoughts from your mind.

The sweet effects of the wine overtook your senses as you took another deep drink. It left behind a pleasant haze. 

Were you actually developing some kind of endorsement towards the emperor, one of the men who was holding you captive like a bird in a cage? Surely that was just the wine talking. Obviously, the only plausible remedy for that was more wine.

Your eyes wandered lazily to Blandus, who was sprawled out on the lectus across from you, swirling around the red liquid in his own glass mindlessly, he wasn't wearing his helmet, he rarely did anymore when he was alone with you. His normally ever neat uniform was slightly undone. Your eyes lingered on the scar crossing his face a moment too long. Your mind drifted yet again.

“Have you ever had a lover?”, You asked suddenly curious, breaking the comfortable silence. The wine was loosening your tongue and heart, but in that moment you did not care in the slightest.

Blandus looked up, not offended by your blunt question. He glanced at you through his almost empty cup. The glass must have distorted your face quite a bit, for an amused grin tugged at his lips. The wine had gone to his head as well, it seemed: “Yes, a few here and there…” He trailed off as he, without a doubt, reveled in old memories. 

A moment and an awkward cough from you later he seemed to remember that the two of you were having a conversation, or attempting to at least: “But not at the present moment. And you, dear F/n?” He inquired. You lazily shook your head, holding the wine filled glass against the sunlight, the pinkish liquid sparkled like a ruby, rich and inviting. You took another long sip, before answering with a gentle shrug of your shoulders: “Love is such a strange thing… I can not imagine to fall in love, to be so enamored with someone that I forget about their faults and flaws…”, You went on and Blandus hummed lowly, considering your words as he stared at his own glass again: “It is strange indeed, but I promise you it is also a very pleasant feeling. To love and to be loved. To want and be wanted.” His voice was firm, determined even.

To want and be wanted.

You scoffed softly, remembering what Fortunata had always said to you in regards to the joys of love: “Litore quot conchae, tot sunt in amore dolores.” You quoted your deceased friend. A laugh broke from Blandus’ lips, surprising you, it was loud and boisterous, so unlike the composed soldier. He thought your friends’ words of wisdom were amusing, funny even, like a good joke. “What about this exactly do you find so hilarious?”, You inquired, a little offended now as he was still laughing, even though his volume had decreased significantly.

“You are an embittered person, dear F/n!”, He declared matter of factly, shaking his head in disbelief while wiping tears of pure amusement from his dark eyes.

You had already made your decision: “Do not insult me. Love is not something that will befall me, Fabius.”, You used his first name deliberately, catching him off guard.

Blandus had lifted his hand in a placating gesture, but it froze midair as he heard his name on your lips. He paused in his movement, looking at you, into your slightly foggy eyes, longer than he had ever looked at you, as if he was really seeing you for the first time. Then he quickly withdrew his gaze as if you had burnt him once again. You were used to this spiel by now.

Sometimes you wondered if he was only humouring you, if he truly was something like a friend, if he liked spending time with you, or if he only did so out of pity and the goodness of his conscientious heart. 

“You did not get to leave your home often, did you?”

Home, the word spoken by him so easily, echoed in your mind like the wail of a child. You looked up, surprised at his remark, a bitter laugh broke free from your lips, too harsh and loud for the softness of the warm afternoon. “Not when I was living in my appalling uncle Primus’ villa and certainly not now.”, You scoffed and if Blandus had been anyone else in that situation he would have flinched at the venom in your voice.

Blandus nodded softly, he genuinely looked like he felt bad for you and you felt the need to continue as soon as you had composed yourself: “I was not allowed to leave our domus often. Sometimes Fortunata would go out with me… to the market on the Forum or the therma or to make an offering at a temple. I remember those rare occasions fondly…” Blandus nodded slowly, his face turned to you, but you could tell that his eyes were focused on the Lararium behind you, the little flames of the candles danced in his dark brown irises.

“Fortunata was your servant, right?” There was something about his voice that you could not quite place, as if he wasn't telling you something but it was easy to blame the wine and you simply nodded.

“Can you tell me about her, please? If you do not mind, that is.”, Blandus had never asked about your familia, your old life, something you had appreciated in the past, but now you wanted to tell him about your friend. You wanted to tell him all about her. That is what friends do, right?

“Fortunata was… a gift.”, The word tasted sour on your tongue: “-from one of my uncle’s so-called friends, Claudius Lucro. He was the one who gave her that name… a cruel joke. And just as cruel he had treated her: like a toy.” You took a deep drink from your glass, your hand shaking ever so slightly.

Blandus listened intently, staring at his own hand now, there was a small burn mark there along his thumb, a light pinkish area that was a stark contrast to his dark skin. Perhaps from an oil lamp, you thought as your gaze rested on it. It had already faded. For a moment your mind wandered to the blasting inferno that took Fortunata from you. That took everything from you. It was weird, really. At times you could look at a flame without feeling anything at all and sometimes only a glimpse of a spark of amber would make you feel sick to your stomach as you were overcome with a feeling of dread so strong that you thought it would swallow you whole. 

As if you were back, trapped in that burning villa of yours.

“So you two would go out together?” Blandus asked, as he pulled you back to yourself, his voice weirdly flat but you barely noticed as you nodded, quickly wiping away a fallen tear from your cheek.

“Yes. Occasionally… whenever uncle Primus would let us. She always accompanied me, made sure that I did not get in trouble.” 

Your expression softened as you remembered one of those evenings on the Forum.

—

It had been a dreary December day. 

The air was dry and cold and the sky covered by light grey clouds. You pulled your thick wool palla tighter around yourself, repositioning the fibula on your shoulder. Saturnalia was just around the corner and the bustling streets of Roma were filled with a sense of excitement and merriment for the upcoming festivities. Fortunata was walking beside you, she too was wearing a warm cloak above her simple dress. The two of you were planning to visit the temple of Saturnus and make an offering. After that you would go to the market on the great Forum and perhaps buy some presents for the familia.

The broad streets were decorated for the holidays, wreaths of green leaves and dried flowers adorned the temples, administrative buildings and even simple houses.

Brightly coloured garlands and lavish fabric had been hung up between the columns of the great temple of the even greater Saturnus. The almost nauseating smell of incense and myrrh filled the cold air as you approached the place of worship.

You made an offering. The priests accepted your gift of money, expensive oils and a young bull that servants would deliver the following day. Surely this would please Saturnus greatly.

Your steps were light as you approached the market, a carefreeness in your heart like you had seldom felt it.

Fortunata guided you to a stall that was selling jewelry. Fine earrings and necklaces of gold and silver covered the silk covered display. You greeted the young saleswoman with a polite nod, but she could not have looked any more uninterested and bored as she twirled a lock of her red hair between her pale fingers. You let your eyes wander over her wares.

It was when the woman spotted Fortunata, that her entire mood and body language seemed to shift and a smile broke through the darkness as she beamed at your company. “Fortunata!”, She greeted her warmly, a fire in her eyes that mirrored her curly red hair. “Julia.”, Fortunata smiled softly, her brown eyes not as sad as you were used to. The saleswoman, Julia, turned to you, smiling now. “Is that…?” Fortunata nodded gently. “Yes, this is F/n.” Julia beamed at her and then at you: “Oh! How exciting! I've heard so much about you!” She excitedly reached over the counter to take your hands, shaking both in a rather awkward yet welcoming greeting. “It is so nice to finally meet you and have a face to your name!” You nodded, smiling politely, Julia seemed to sense your confusion and let go of your hands as she remembered who she was talking to. “Oh I am so very sorry, domina! I am Julia Pulka. I am… a good friend of Fortunata.” the words seemed to taste like ash in her mouth as she couldn't help but pull a face at her own words. But you shrugged it off, smiling politely. “I am very sorry Fortunata has yet to tell me about you. Nonetheless it is very nice to meet a friend of my friend.” Julia nodded, smiling brightly: “It is a pleasure, domina!” 

Julia was a bubbly person, short and curvy and smiling  all the time when she was not bored out of her mind. You found that she was pleasant company and easy to talk to.

After chatting for a short while, she got one of the neighbouring shop owners to watch over her stall for a while, as she brought the two of you to her home a few streets away from the Forum. 

A simple middle-class ground floor apartment in an insulae, small yet comfortable enough. Julia led you inside, asking you to sit with her and share bread and olives in honour of Saturnalia. You took off your palla, a small fire crackling in the oven, a luxury that came with living on ground level with walls of stone. The smell of spices used for spiced wine hung heavy in the air. Julia whirled around the room, fixing messes that you hadn't even noticed before finally returning with a small bowl of black and green olives and another bowl of moretum as well as some soft bread. 

It was good. 

After the small meal Fortunata and Julia seemed to exchange looks and you could swear you saw the former blush, although she kept her expression serious. “Please excuse us for a moment, F/n.”, Fortunata asked. You nodded and they left through the back, the wooden door fell shut behind them.

You waited for a while, enjoying the quiet murmur of the people outside on the street who were going on about their day. 

You looked around the room. Small windows let sunlight in. A few decorations for Saturnalia here and there, laurels of leaves and dried flowers. It was nice. Not the luxurious life you were used to — no hovering slaves and conspiracies. 

A simple life. 

Your eyes fell on the small lararium on the wall next to you. You let your gaze drift over the small figurines on the house shrine. You recognised the bare, beautiful Venus and Isis with her crown of horns and the little sistrum in her hand. An oil lamp next to them flickered gently.

Just when you began to wonder when Fortunata and Julia would return, there came a scream outside from behind the house as far as you could tell, a woman, no doubt. Her voice was filled with panic and anger.

You were just about to rush to the window to have a look, when the backdoor swung open. A man, tall and built like an ox, was dragging Julia by her arm over the threshold and into the small room. 

“You dirty fucking frictrix.”, He pushed her roughly to the floor, causing the wood to creak. He smelled of beer and wine and sweat. “Don't touch me! You stupid drunk!” She screamed, swinging at him, but he was too large, too bulky for her to do any serious damage. “I cannot believe I'm married to a dirty tribas! You think you can dishonour me like that?” He yelled, spittle flying everywhere. 

The sound of his hand slapping her hard across the face echoed in the small room. You held your breath, staring at the scene unfolding in front of you. So emotional and scandalous that it could have been a play in a theatrum. You were just about to open your mouth, when Fortunata rushed through the door, stumbling to the fighting couple. “Stop! It is my fault alone! Please stop!”, She cried and you had never seen her this upset. Julia's husband barely blinked as Fortunata fell to her knees in front of him. “Please do not harm her.” She begged, desperate like you had not seen her before. 

Finally the husband let go of his wife, Julia stumbled to the ground, her face angry, tears pricked at the corners of her blue eyes, as she held her throbbing cheek. A handprint was clearly visible on her freckled skin.

“My wife is fucking a dirty serva.” He exclaimed flatly to no one in particular, as if he could not believe his own words. A bitter laugh wrung from his throat. “You deceived me. You dishonoured me. You are a disgrace.” He spat and Julia would have jumped at him if Fortunata hadn't held her hand like a vice. He barely spared Fortunata a glance before he turned to you, you immediately straightened up your back, looking into his cold eyes. “You’re her domina?” He asked eerily calm. You nodded once, firm and unyielding, the strong smell of beef hit you, making you nauseous. “Your dirty slave fucked my wife. What will you do about it, domina?” He used the title like a slur. He was challenging you, but you stood your ground, at least you could have if the situation would have allowed it. You decided on another tactic: “I am very sorry for the inconvenience my slave might have caused you.” Slave…you had never called her that. “She misstepped and I will see to it that she is punished accordingly. This will not happen again.” You declared, with all the authoritative air you could muster in that moment. The husband stared at you for a moment, his expression unreadable. “I do not want to see that slave near my wife ever again. Am I understood?” He snarled and you nodded politely. “Yes of course. It won't happen again.” You had to force yourself to smile politely at him, when in reality you wanted to punch him for insulting Fortunata like this. He scoffed: “It better not.” 

Fortunata and you left the house soon after, hurrying back to the waiting litter. “Fortunata…”, You began as she walked beside the shaking litter. You felt cold all of a sudden and it wasn't because of the winter air. She shook her head, avoiding your gaze, you could see the tears burning in her brown eyes, her dark bun messy. “Let us talk later, domina, please”, She asked, her voice leveled. You nodded, accepting her request and understanding her need for a moment to herself..

“Please, you have to help her. She's not safe with that man!”, Fortunata was holding onto your arm, almost painfully so. “Fortunata. I am so sorry but I can not do that. I can not.” Her expression became dark, desperately so.  “I've never asked anything of you, domina.”, She spat the title like a poison, before she finally let go of your bare arm. The area hurt where she had grabbed you. “You are just as cruel as your uncle if you do not help her.”

Your heart ached.

“Primus would never allow it. I cannot do anything and that's it.”, You replied, your words final and you could see that she wanted to say more, to argue with you, but she simply shook her head in disappointment, which almost hurt more than any harsh words spoken in anger ever could.

You did not talk to Fortunata for a whole week after that. A week you spent thinking. How could you have not seen it sooner. You had known that Fortunata would sometimes sneak out in the middle of the night, going gods know where. Well now you knew.

—

Blandus was quiet for a moment, seemingly speechless. “Well-”, He began, his voice scratchy and careful, so unlike the normally stoic soldier. “How-”, He paused: “...unfortunate.” You scoffed, but there was no anger. “How unfortunate indeed.”

 Unfortunate, unfortunate Fortunata.

“The next time we visited the market was about a month later. We came to Julia's stall. Even from a distance we could see how she moved slowly and walked with a limp. She had a bruised eye and a split lip that was still healing. When she spotted Fortunata she hid her face in her hands and started crying before she rushed off.”

You hesitated, a pain in your eyes.

“I don't think Fortunata ever saw her again after that and neither did I.”

Blandus was silent again, as you finished your retelling of one of your memories with Fortunata.

“So, Fabius”, you used his first name deliberately. “Can you blame me for thinking that love is hopeless… that it does not help anyone. That it does not save anyone. Love does not change anything.”

Blandus’ expression was heavy with twisted emotions and conflict, a storm brewing within.

“This is love, Blandus”, You held up your glass in a mock salute, letting the light dance on its ornate surface. “Love from an amphora.”, You smiled sourly, no joy in your eyes.

“Well, I think you are wrong.”, Blandus finally said, voice weak, he would not argue with you, but he also would not let your depressing statement stand uncommented.

You shrugged noncommittally, taking another sip. 

The silence dragged on.

“When I was a small child my mother and father… They loved each other very dearly. Or at least through the eyes of a little boy they did.” Blandus finally spoke, letting out a huff of a laugh, pained and  mournful. He took a deep drink before he eventually continued

“He was a good man, for a while at least. No one can always be good, right?” Another bitter laugh fell from his lips. “He was a camp prefect with a passion for dogs. Gods, he loved those beasts. He… he bred them, trained them. Made them perfect guard dogs.”, He was almost smiling now, before all the glee vanished in an instant, replaced by deep rooted sadness and anger.  “Then he began to drink. And his moods shifted like the tides… But my mother, she stayed with him, she said she loved him. One day he set one of his dogs, his favourite, on her, said she had been cheating with another man. She died three days later. My father, sister and I moved back to Rome after that. He was never punished for what he did. Until recently.” You froze, realization washing over you like a tidal wave.

The dog. 

The dog Caracalla had made you eat. You remembered Asprenas’ words now… gods.

“So…I'm well aware that love is complicated and layered.”, He finished, his eyes burning with unshed tears. You had never seen the soldier cry before.

“Gods” you got out, unable to form even a simple sentence as your mind raced. But Blandus simply shook his head, his dark locks a mess. “Apologies. I am drunk and I said too much”

—

A while and some more wine later the tension began to ease little by little.

The two of you seemed to agree that it would be best to pretend that nothing had happened. That nothing had been said. That you hadn't shared the terrible stories of your lives.

You settled on playing a few rounds of mill together. Simple entertainment. Sometimes he won, sometimes it was you. You chatted about this and that, light topics that were more fitting for such a lazy day. It was easy to forget about lingering heaviness in your heart when the wine flowed freely and the words were lighter.

You were about to place a stone when it tumbled from your hand. It fell to the ground, rolling beneath Blandus’ lectus across from yours. “I got it.”, He announced, lazily rising to his feet to pick up the round stone. “You know, maybe we should get you a little Venus for your Lararium here. She might help with your troubled relationship with love”, He suggested playfully as his fingers curled around the object of his desire.

Suddenly the doors swung open, surprised Blandus hit his head on the ornate wooden frame as he tried to quickly straighten up and get on his feet.

Geta's face was red with anger as he strode into the room purposefully, his robe billowing behind him as his sandal clad feet struck the marble floor. His expression became even more sour and stormy when he spotted Blandus across from you, still half on the floor. His dark eyes seemed to tunnel in on him: “Soldier. Did I not tell you to not talk to her anymore? You're to protect her, not play mill with her or whatever you have been doing! Leave at once!”, He barked, spittle flying everywhere. Blandus' body had frozen in a rigid position. He saluted quickly, before hurrying out of the room. 

As soon as he had left, Geta turned his unwavering attention to you.

The emperor sneered: “What in Jupiter’s name do you see in that fellator?” He huffed, pacing back and forth in front of you like a caged lion, before crossing his arms over his silk covered chest as he strode further into the room.

He took a heavy seat across from you, where Blandus had been fumbling for a stupid mill stone just a moment ago. His gaze was intense, judging and disdainful. “Have you fucked him too?”, He asked bluntly, not a hint of a joke in his voice. You blinked, unpacking his words, but before you could even try to form an answer, he scoffed: “First my brother and now some scar faced soldier. Who will you seduce next, fuck next? The stupid monkey?”, The smell of wine hit you. Intense and rich. And for a change it was not only coming from yourself.

Oh. 

Oh…

You realised something then. By the way he was sitting there, holding himself, the tiniest bit unsteady. The emperor was drunk — or tipsy at the very least. You could smell the decadent wine on his breath, his stormy gaze just a little foggy. That little detail did not excuse his words, however it explained them. Geta seemingly did not actually care about your answer when he went on: “You seduce my brother just to reject him? Was that your revenge plan all along? To break his stupid heart?” He ranted and you could hear the frustration in his voice as he fumbled with the gold rings on his fingers. 

He cared about his brother, you understood that now. 

“How could I have broken his heart? There was nothing between us.” Geta looked up from his hands in confused annoyance. “You call fucking nothing?” He asked incrediously. You furrowed your brows in confusion, your voice deadpan. “We did not fuck, Caesar.” 

Geta was ready to yell at you again when he suddenly paused. “Do not lie to me, F/n. Caracalla told me you slept together”, He spat and you were not sure if he had ever called you by your given name before. “I am not lying, Geta”, you used his name, it felt foreign and wrong on your tongue. 

“But you slept together.”, He repeated and you nodded slowly: “Yes. Literally. He was curled up at the foot of my bed the whole night. Nothing else happened, I can promise you as much.”

Geta blinked slowly and he had the audacity to blush. Not from the wine or out of sudden shyness, but because he was embarrassed, sheepish almost. If the powerful Caesar could ever be sheepish. Which of course, he could not.

“He- he was so proud of himself when he told me he had seduced you…”, He muttered almost to himself, his expression softened. You had never seen him like this prior.

Finally he sighed deeply, his voice a solemn whisper: “My brother has a sensitive heart. Not necessarily gentle but all the more fragile. Don't break it on purpose…please.” If that last little word had not been, you would have thought it was a threat.

“So that soldier and you? You're just friends.” He asked. You nodded softly, barely thinking about your answer: “Yes, we are friends.”

—

Blandus did not return to guard your door after, instead another soldier you did not recognise took his place.

“Domina” you stared at the life sized statue in front of you. Caracalla's face, detailed as if it was him in the flesh, was staring back at you through eyes made of precious stone. The similarities were truly astounding, uncanny even, especially in your alcohol addled state. “A present from the emperor to you, domina”, The soldier explained, looking like he'd rather be anywhere else. You did not blame him. “How thoughtful of him”, Your voice dripped with sarcasm, while no less than four burly slaves manoeuvred the statue into a corner of the room, right in front of one of the red curtains. “You're dismissed”, You half expected the guard to argue but he nodded and took up his position right outside of your door, while the slaves silently left.

You emptied the rest of the wine carafe on your own. Your head swam as you stumbled through your room, in search of something to do. Briefly your mind flickered to the knife beneath your pillow. Only the gods knew how it had not yet been discovered. But you quickly discarded the thought. Instead. Your hazy eyes wandered to the statue of Caracalla in the corner of the room. You were thankful that he was wearing clothes, even if they were of an eye hurting bright purple that alone was probably worth more than your life. You could tell that the artist had taken some liberties concerning the emperor's physic. The man in flesh and blood did not have a muscular body like the stone one in front of you.

Only now did you notice the little round object in his pale hand. You almost smiled when you recognised it. An apricot, made of precious orange stone and gold.

He looked somewhat imposing standing there in his full size, if it wasn't for the adorable rouge on his cheeks and dreamy pale eyes.

Gods.

Oh no.

You blinked, slapping yourself across the face. It stung but not as much as you would have liked. You turned your attention to the painted marble again. Your mind was fuzzy and screaming at you the one thing and then the other, and without thinking you stepped forward and slapped the statue across the face. Your hand immediately stung but you did not care as you pressed your lips to the stone. His expression was soft in the light of the many lamps, yet his lips were hard and cold, so unlike the real thing you imagined. When you pulled back there was a smudge of wine on his mouth, shimmering red in the flickering light of the oil lamps. How embarrassing. He looked even more real now.

You stepped back, staring at the mess you had made, your hand stinging faintly.

Oh, Juno. Oh Jupiter.

What had your life become?

What was happening to you?

—

Blandus stayed missing, he did not return the day after either, nor the day after that, for that matter.

By now you were getting worried about your friend. Would the emperors do something unjust to him for the petty crime of talking to you? For keeping you company when no one else had?

To be fair, he had also neglected his duties — just a little. But it was not that terrible. He had still kept you safe and there had not been another attempt on your life that you were aware of. 

—

Four boring days later you decided to ask Asprenas. The Medicus wasn't visiting you regularly anymore either, which was…sad. But you understood that he was a busy man and you did not need that much of his attention anymore.

You asked a servant to call for Asprenas, 

“F/n” He greeted you with a kind yet worried smile, as he slipped through the wooden door, his greenish eyes filled with warmth. You couldn't help but smile. He hesitated barely for the blink of an eye, as his eyes fell upon the new addition to your room, the statue of Caracalla. He cleared his throat: “How charming.”, He commented, putting down his things on the table. 

“The servant told me your stomach is bothering you? Is it your monthly bleeding or something else?”, He asked, already rummaging through his leather bag. Your smile turned sheepish. He looked at you expectantly, lifting a dark brow. “Oh, F/n…”, He shook his head, huffing out a laugh. “You're terrible. Truly terrible. Deceiving me like that. I was worried.”, He exclaimed dramatically, then he broke out into a wide grin. “I'm missing cena with my lovely wife because of you, I hope you’re aware of that.” Your expression fell, you had not considered that. That he could have something better to do, as selfish as that sounded.

“Oh…gods…Asprenas I’m so sorry.” He shook his head, his short grey locks bouncing around his face. “She will be glad to hear you are well.”., He smirked and you sighed: “I would love to get out of the palace even just for one night… meet Anna… talk and laugh.” Asprenas’ expression softened: “I don’t think the emperors would allow that. For now, at least. But when the day comes Anna and I will be happy to have you.” You nodded softly, having expected that answer.

“Is it true that Caracalla freed her?”, Your voice broke the silence.  Asprenas looked at you in surprise, he wet his lips: “He did indeed. After I asked him to.” You nodded, so he had been telling the truth. “That was very kind of him…”, It sounded almost like a question but Asprenas nodded, smiling softly now. “That it was. He… he has a childlike heart. He can be very kind at times but he has his irrational, even cruel, moments too. But I suppose you know that best.”, He said softly, rubbing gently at his chin. You nodded. 

“That sickness of his… what is it exactly?”, the question slipped out before you could stop yourself. Asprenas sighed: “I’m not certain. He has these bouts of fever and confusion that come and go. The only thing that seems to help is his brother and a good night’s rest. I give him herbs that help him sleep but I can not figure out how to cure him. I have had medici come from all over the empire but to no avail. I am not sure if whatever is ailing him is curable at all.” 

Your heart felt heavy all of a sudden: “I see… and will it kill him?”

Asprenas did not answer.

—

Note:

Litore quot conchae, tot sunt in amore dolores. (As many shells as there are on the shore, so many are the pains of love.)

Yayyyyy sorry for the brief hiatus I have been so unmotivated lately… but I hope you enjoyed it nonetheless!!! Thank you for reading!