CHAPTER 1: 𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔅𝔯𝔬𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯𝔰' 𝔗𝔞𝔩𝔢
Caracalla x female!OC x Geta
How did the Emperors gain power? What was their past like? What made Caracalla a madman?
Lucia Galeria Aurelia is the forgotten daughter of Lucilla and Maximus. One day her life changes forever when her path crosses with the young Caracalla. She starts to take an active part in the life of Rome, captivating not only the Roman people but also someone fate condemned her to - certain red-haired rulers.
Warnings: english is not my first language(!), alluding to sex, suicide, mentions of concubines, alcohol, swearing
AN: I really dig through history with this one. One of Severus's quotes he actually told in real life, not gonna spoil it tho!
Trope: enemies to lovers (duh)
At night, the two young people were led to a large chamber, unlike the one little Lucia was used to. It was an almost-hall, which had been the chamber of imperial marriages since the time of Nero, with large windows and a beautiful vault depicting Eros leaning towards Psyche, who sees her husband for the first time, with fear and uncertainty but also love painted on her face. Something that Lucia wanted to feel very much. She thought quickly, on their way to the chamber she managed to imagine the next years, the future of Rome, which she had to start taking care of. She glanced at her new husband's father from one side and at her mother from the other. She did not look past her, even though she felt the eyes of everyone following her, 'guiding' the newlyweds to their wedding night. She felt bad, the worst. She could only look at the back of her husband, who was walking in front of her, he had a certain posture and broad shoulders, but there was something funny about him, too funny. She tried to find the humor in the situation, she smiled to herself. “That’s my husband,” echoed in her head. They stopped. Two praetorians and Severus entered the chamber. In the middle stood a large bed with silk sheets and velvet pillows on which lay the heads of great rulers. Lucia wondered if all the young Roman brides felt as she did.
-Listen, young ones - Severus broke the deathly silence - Today you begin your marriage. You also start to play your role, as husband and wife, emperor and empress, woman and man. The gods gave you the ability to give life. You are here because it was given to you, and you should not end it without giving it to the next generation. Such is your task.
Only now could the girl see the true, obsessive face of the ruler of Rome. A ruler who knew that his days were numbered, a ruler who wanted his family to survive, more than anything in the world. Even if he had to sacrifice his son's happiness, sacrifice himself. He wanted everything to happen quickly, preferably here and now. The strange thing was that Lucia was not afraid. She was not afraid of this older, red-haired man, who, despite the large wreath and the storm in his pupils, was not dangerous to her at all. He looked almost pathetic to her, his desperate efforts to keep the throne. But only to her did he look like that. When she looked to the side, the purest form of fear was drawn on her husband's face. Maybe it was because his father had his eyes fixed on him the whole time, as if the future of Rome, the world, rested on his shoulders. His lips, still slightly stained with the cherry color of Lucia's lip cream, trembled before that stern look.
- Do you understand, son? - he asked, grabbing the young man’s hair - Now is your time for this. You will give me a descendant of your own blood, you will maintain our family, right, son? - he pierced his son with his gaze, who could only nod slightly.
As he left, he locked them in the room alone, probably leaving the praetorians behind them. For the first time, she could talk to him. She opened her mouth hastily, but he did the same at that moment.
- Let's just get this over with - she whispered as they sat on either side of the bed. It took some time before she took off her tunic, stola, and palla. When she did, only her long curls, shimmering in the light of the sad moon, fell on her body. After a long, rather awkward moment, she touched his fettered face a little timidly. Caracalla was afraid, afraid of his father, afraid of Rome and afraid of power. Although he was never really afraid. Even during the wedding, he was not afraid, he was angry. Pissed to the bone, he devoured his barbarian father with his eyes, imagining him on the noose. His father, his whole life, had not treated him like this. He felt betrayed. Looking at his beautiful wife, he felt only regret. He only nervously bit his cherry lip, the color of which mixed with blood. She took his face in both hands as if she wanted to wake him up from this trance of emotions.
- Just do it, Geta - she whispered, hugging him
- Geta..? - his first word since the wedding rang out
- What? - she stopped the embrace to look at him
- Caracalla the Gladiator?
- What? - he said like an echo
- Geta was supposed to be the emperor..
- What are you talking about..
After another long moment of looking at each other, the girl burst into uncontrollable laughter. Caracalla, surprised by the whole situation, expressed perhaps a shadow of amusement, but with his whole body confusion. How could he possibly know how the girl found out about the twin rulers?
A while earlier, one day when she first snuck out of the chamber and found Macrinus, he showed her the gladiators' weapons. He presented her with each item and she absorbed the knowledge like no one else. She wanted to take one of the smaller swords, for warriors of smaller stature, but there were none. Maybe because of adversity, maybe because young Caracalla stole swords for his chamber, swords that probably fascinated him as much as Lucia.
- Sorry, kid. It seems like another young gladiator was faster than you. This little, red-haired one, Caracalla. I'm telling you, when I live to see his reign, I'll give myself freely to the hands of the Gods - Macrinus told her, laughing.
Lucia had heard stories about people waiting for a new ruler, who was supposed to be Geta. They hoped that he would end the tyranny and break the curse of his family. Maybe she believed in those fairy tales and maybe that was why she was so calm.. Until she found out that it wasn't her husband.
The laughter died down a bit, the boy continued to look at her with a blank stare, as if begging her to leave him alone or at least explain what was going on.
- Do you even want to be an emperor?
- Not with an empress like you.
- Ouch, spare me Geta - her innate cynicism was revealed for the first time as she leaned back on the pillows with playful eyes, now in all her glory as a beautiful empress. Caracalla was calmer, his fear diminished when he noticed he had no enemy in her. For the first time, he smiled, showing his teeth, some gleaming gold.
- Where did you even come from?
- I hatched from a shell like Venus - she giggled, stretching.
There was silence again for a moment. Caracalla liked to stare, piercing everything with his gaze. He looked silly to her, maybe even sweet. She wasn't sure if he had the face of the future emperor. They looked at each other, she turned her head slightly to the side, for the first time she actually saw him, without the shadow of his tyrannical father, just him, the 18-year-old boy Caracalla. After all, they were in this together.
- So…What’s it like to have.. a brother?
- I dunno.. I guess good, as long as your wife doesn't confuse you with him - the echo of a boyish chuckle spread through the large room. Lucia was curious about this, she had never met any peers, only heard once or twice about her brother, who was alive, but not present. Who probably didn't know that there was someone like her, someone who wanted to see him more than everyone else. The girl wanted to feel at least a drop of brotherly love, to hear about it.
- No, I'm serious. Do you love him?
- We do everything together. I'm condemned to him like.. To you
- Condemned? He's your only brother! - Her gaze was fixed on his now-turned head. A moment earlier they had covered themselves in their marital robes, the future emperor now curled up on the large bed, hiding his face in his hands. The girl probably wouldn't understand what he was feeling, even after reading all her grandfather's philosophical books and using up all of her intelligence.
- Don't you understand that I'm standing in his way? He won’t admit it, but it's true. I'll give you a child and he'll get lost in the shadows, forgotten. Do you understand? He's so.. good. An ideal emperor.
Caracalla was a child whose exceptionalism was acknowledged from an early age. People criticized him for his ridiculous attitude, but they admitted that he had bravado. Bravado that an emperor needed. The boy was not virtuous, he was against all virtues. He admired Commodus, Alexander the Great, heck, he ordered his statue to be placed in his room, he ordered a sword to be forged for himself with the date of the Macedonian ruler’s birth and death. Caracalla absorbed the history of wars and empires, he wanted to fight. When he was ridiculed for his small stature, his brother used to step in. Their relationship was, however, changeable, beyond understanding. Geta felt every resentment towards his brother, one could say from birth, for being the first to emerge from his mother's belly, for always being the first for no reason. Caracalla always had a certain difficulty with emotions. His love was obsessive, it came in waves, randomly. It changed. He couldn't talk about it. He was healthy his whole life, he didn't struggle with any illnesses, unlike his father. That was one of the reasons his father chose him as emperor, an ideal tyrant, leading conquests, winning wars. However, Caracalla fell into a spiral of debauchery. Wine and concubines tempted him from childhood. Maybe because his father surrounded himself with them all the time, and convinced him that he was an authority. Women could give the old emperor the power that he felt he was losing. Power over his sickly body, power over Rome.
Her warm breath tickled his ear. She embraced him, what a strange feeling. He never wanted pity, he didn't want to feel weak.
The door to the chamber was opened. A sonorous voice could be heard.
- You’re a noble pair, dear brother and sister. You look.. truly serious
Indeed, their faces did not express the bliss that the wedding night was supposed to bring. Lucia moved away from her husband, quickly and silently dressing. The tension was clearly felt between the brothers.
The taller red-haired boy with funny eyeliner embraced his brother in his marital robe, kissing him on the forehead. The kiss seemed brutal, full of brotherly rivalry. Everyone except Lucia guessed that this rivalry was about her. The moment of silence between the brothers looking at each other was interrupted by the praetorian entering.
- The emperor invites the couple for breakfast.
- That's what I wanted to tell you - Geta replied, watching Lucia dress from the side - the night passed quickly, didn't it?
Caracalla nodded again in a way she knew. It seemed the only thing that was weighing on him was the matter of this marriage. It looked like she had awakened an unusual side of him that no one but her had seen.
The table was huge, filled with all sorts of wild dishes, in honor of the newlyweds everything was soaked in wine, both bread and roast, and finally large carafes of drinks were brought which sparkled as poured into large goblets. Two places of honor at the end of the table were waiting for the young couple. All eyes were turned towards them, waiting for the feast to begin. Lucia also waited for Caracalla to stand up but his eyes wandered over individual people, not focused on the current moment. He leaned towards his brother to whom he whispered something. Geta waved his hand and patted him rudely on the shoulder. The boy stood up together with his wife, biting a piece of wine bread made of wheat as a sign to start the feast. Conversations immediately drowned out the solemn silence of the Golden House, you could hear a roar of clinking glasses and eating, laughter and shouting. The only people who seemed to be absent were, of course, the newlyweds. Lucia said nothing but listened attentively. Next to her sat Macrinus with the Senate, telling the wildest stories from the arena.
- Rome has something that the Egyptians, the Persians, and the Hindus have not achieved. We have a great Colosseum and games. We have honorable men for whom fighting is life, devoted to Ares, loyal to the Thunderer. Barbarians will never achieve what Rome has, we are the nation closest to the fullness of life, Socrates can laugh in his grave as much as he wants, but it is true.
- But aren't these honorable men brought from barbarian nations, from far across the sea? - a soft female voice broke through the applause of the older men, for a moment as if deafened by her interference.
- These matters should not bother your noble head in any way, dear Lady, I am sure that..
- She is right, Marcus, they are not Romans. That is why my task is to convert and train them, which as you can see gives me so much remuneration that today I am sitting right next to the future empress. - Macrinus interrupted the senator with a certain smile, glancing into the eyes of the clever Lucia.
On the other side of the table, however, the conversation was not going so smoothly. Caracalla was as nervous as ever. The pink powder on his cheeks was nothing compared to the blushes on his face, the blushes of anger and shame.
- Where the fuck is he? Isn't it time for one of his damned speeches? Besides, he’s sick as hell!
- He is celebrating in a brothel, as usual. Relax, brother. You have more important things to worry about. I'll send to look for him - Geta whispered with furrowed brows to his leaning brother, who nervously played with his rings, looking at the whole room with fear. He didn't know any of these people.
It was true that Caracalla was always the first to seek out his father when he was roaming around Rome with a hood covering his face. As has already been mentioned, he chased women. And his son chased after him. He woke him up, led him home, maybe in a way he looked after him, worried about him. Maybe that was why he was so concerned about his father’s every word. Because, after all, he was close to his father.
The Praetorians did not search for long, his father was walking with unsteady steps to the dining hall. When the large doors opened, they revealed a drunken Septimius Severus. Despite everything, the man had a hard head when it came to alcohol. Regardless of his lung disease, he maintained the form of a functioning alcoholic. Coughing mercilessly, he caught everyone's attention, standing exactly on the opposite side of the abundant table. Only a murmur of whispers remained in the hall because no one valued the emperor very much, certainly not as much as his sons. He raised a large, filled goblet.
- You see, you sent him to us - Geta said with embarrassment, raising the wine to his lips, trying to block out the humiliating sight from his field of vision.
- Sons! You are in the prime of life! Grown, handsome, your whole life lays open before you, like the legs of a cheap whore! - The murmurs died down as it seemed that the only thing that could be heard was the father's laughter and the son's gnashing of teeth. - So I have one last fatherly demand. Live in harmony, enrich the soldiers, and apart from that.. You can despise everyone. Just remember... remember the family - the old man's voice trembled uncontrollably because no one took him seriously.
Even the sons hid their faces in their hands, awkwardly glanced to the sides, cursing their father in their thoughts.
Maybe they subconsciously sent what was to happen to him. Severus was dressed in a long black robe, in which he demanded many pockets, so it looked unique and unusual. From one of the pockets by his hip, he pulled out a small sword, bearing small images of Caracalla and Geta as young twins embraced by their mother with her eyes closed. This old man stubbornly clung to his miserable life as a failed emperor, even when he knew that his years of conquest were behind him as if he wanted to fulfill some task. It turned out that the task was his sons and their rule. When it was fulfilled, he went to have one last night of fun, then returned in the morning to say goodbye to his loved ones. He quickly ran the blade across the fold of his neck, from which the soul of the old ruler flew away, whose body then fell onto the rich table, onto the great roast and onto the goblets of wine. People stood up as if scalded, women screamed as if they had been skinned, Emperor Geta stood up to run towards his dead father - and Caracalla, Caracalla was sitting, and in his eyes was smoldering the flame with the embryo of madness, which had been awakened by unbearable pain, the pain of death and everything he had experienced.
thank you all so much for your support! Comment if you want a continue
