#commodus pjo

Apollo had been told that he was supposed to be paraded into Commodus' throne room as a testament to his humiliating capture so when he heard the word blindfold, he was unfortunately unable to stop the squeak of surprise that ripped out of his throat. Both of the Germani laughed at him.

-and then the one with the blindfold was hooking a particularly harsh and violent arm around his neck, pinning his head into immobility as a heavy, dark something was dragged over his face, obscuring his sight-

Oh, the cruelty. They weren't using a simple, dark piece of fabric to blindfold him. They were using one of the strapped, leather blindfolds that were for animals. Apollo snapped his head backwards and managed to score the Germani in the ribs, but his sight was already obscured and the only thing he succeeded in doing was convincing the blindfold to be strapped on about ten times more tightly than it needed too.

…oh gods. There was no way that he could be expected too walk into a room with Commodus whilst blindfolded - there was no way that was going to end well-

And as a fun bonus, he thought to himself panickedly as he heard the door open and the Germani grabbed him by the arms to shove him through, his hands were tied! Yipee!

The room was chillingly silent, and it was all Apollo could do to not shiver despite the decently warm air. Commodus had obviously hooked up with affordable heating if his guess to the size of his lair was anywhere near as large as it was. The British would do well to take notes from him. But this room in particular made him feel strange, an odd, clammy lukewarm that seemed to stab into his skin-

Ah. That wasn't the room. That was him! Silly Apollo.

"And who do we have here?" A voice said, snapping him out of his thoughts. It was llaced with pure delight.

Well, fuck me, Apollo cursed internally as he recognised Commodus. He had to be about… what? Ten feet away? Ten metres away? He wasn't good at measurements. Not too close though, he has to guess (thank the gods).

"Apollo, Princeps." The Germani sounded bored. They'd probably been expecting him to put up a better fight, but in his defence, he was tired. "He was attempting to retrieve the griffins with a sorceress."

"Did you capture the sorceress as well?"

"...no, princeps."

"Did the griffins escape?"

"...yes princeps."

"Really? That's such a shame." His voice sounded bored, but Apollo could sense the beginnings of his rage. "I suppose I'll have to make do with what I have."

What he had. Right. That referred to him. Commodus had him. That was bad, he reminded himself.

He could feel beads of sweat begin to build on his forehead, and twitched minisculely as he heard footsteps. Did Commodus have a throne, or had he been standing up? Who was he kidding, of course Commodus had a throne. He was Commodus.

The footsteps inched closer and closer. It echoed around the room - if Apollo had to guess, the floor was made of marble. He may have been bad at measurements, but over 4000 years of experience of being the god of music meant that he was very attuned to the sounds around him. He had to guess that he was about an arm length away from him - conveniently within strangling distance! Yipee!

"Now, Apollo." His voice suggested that it was closer than he thought it would be. "You've been been such a nuisance too the Triumvirate these past few weeks… did you think you could get away with it?"

The Germani tightened his hold on his arm. Apollo very stiffly and very reluctantly bit out a word. "Maybe."

Commodus laughed. The sound was loud and intoxicating, but he didn't feel like drinking. "Maybe? Oh, Apollo, you are so funny."

On any other day, he would have been very pleased with a pretty man recognising his comedic value. Alas, in his preferred day, the pretty man would not be his murderous ex boyfriend and would not be saying that too him whilst he was contemplating how to murder him.

He opted not to say anything, and instead focused on him, because he was a big believer of self care. The ropes around his wrists hurt, but it was nothing he hadn't experienced before. The blindfold around his head also hurt, he couldn't claim he was very used to that, but he supposed it was intentional. Anything else? Oh yeah, he was sweating, and probably would have collapsed had the Germani not been holding him up. He was… what was the mortal phrase? Not doing too hot.

"Guards?" Apollo forced himself not to startle a the sound of his voice. Gods, he was awfully loud. "What do you propose we do with our pet god here?"

The Germani didn't respond right away - perhaps taking a moment to think the question through. The one holding his right arm spoke first. "Kill him."

Ah yes. Murder. That was very within the Germani style.

"Hmm… I want something a little more… exciting, you know?" His tone was threaded with something he decided to ignore.

"You could let me go." Apollo attempted. "It would be funny-"

A warm hand wrapped over his mouth and he startled, attempting to struggle away. He couldn't move away. The Germani had his arms in a chokehold, and the only thing that he could do was to stand there and hope that Commodus didn't fly into one of his murderous rages. Which, he had to say, had a very likely chance of happening.

"Now, Apollo," his voice thinned ever so slightly. "Why would I let you go?"

Now, there were a thousand things that he could say, but there was the rather obvious problem of his hand still covering his mouth. A singular finger entwined itself in his hair and began to stroke.

"Should we let Apollo here keep the blindfold on during our rehearsal?" No, thank you!

"I think it would make him die faster."

"Oh no, we can't have him dying." Commodus sighed. He took it to mean that he currently had no plans to kill him which… didn't really make the situation better, because, well, it was Commodus. "That would be awful."

His hand remained sealed over his mouth.

Apollo had tried to hush Meg in a similiar manner before, but whenever he tried she always licked him or bit his hand. Apollo did not feel like licking Commodus' hand, his pride hadn't fallen that far, and he was so not biting him. He had a feeling he might get stabbed just a little bit. So he instead counted to five in his head, and slowly tried to exhale in a way that wasn't weird or noticeable.

Slowly, the fingers peeled off and he gritted his teeth in the attempt to not whimper. Commodus continued to talk to the guard like he wasn't there- no, he was very aware he was there. He talked to the guard with the knowledge that Apollo couldn't fight back. "I'll be generous. Take the blindfold off him before the rehearsal begins."

"And for now?" The Germani grunted. The action shook him a little and he grimaced. Something that was no doubt very visible to Commodus.

Something touched his chin and he jerked backwards, breath hitching. Commodus let out a peal of laughter - the type that left him with reddened cheeks and glinting eyes that were oh so pretty to look at. It returned, and he realised, with less panic, that it was just his finger stroking his chin.

"You are delightful to watch in a blindfold." He cooed. Apollo decided to ignore what that meant. "Marcus-"

"Sir, my name is-"

"-keep Apollo in the blindfold until the rehearsal."

Gods, he was very, very tempted to scream. Probably the only reason he didn't was because Commodus would probably enjoy it. How had it only been, like, three hours ago when he'd been happily annoying Calypso in that stupid Indianapolis zoo?

Calypso probably wouldn't stand to be put in a blindfold… but then again had Calypso been here Commodus probably would have just stabbed her or something. Apollo cursed. Why was he the only one or his friends that Commodus didn't want to kill? That was so unfair.