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@commodusreigns
"She will never love you like I do."
“ do not say this again to me, ophelia ”
he is pleading with her. he knows such conversations leave a bitter taste of regret in his mouth. a desire to be with ophelia and only her. to be free of the chains of marriage to a woman he had never loved to begin with.
“ this conversation has no more words to be said ”
commodusreigns:
commodus was a god in every sense of the word. the gods looked down kindly upon him and even in moments such as these he had no fear. mars must have been compelling him with lust for blood and war because it was all he could think and feel in his bones as he stood on the other side of the door, ready to force james to his death. commodus did not wait, with one movement of his leg, he kicked the door open - showing the man on the other side. and now there was no calmness in commodus, no sweet nature in him that would tell willow to bury her face to his knee and not watch whilst he slaughtered men. no. all he desired now was for james to be dead and at the mercy of his soon to be wife. his bride of whose gown had been damaged by the foolish and clumsy hands of a man who did not understand she was devoted to commodus.
“on your knees” he is so firm with his order, as though he is still emperor despite the republic having been taken over. and james would do best to fall to his knees. despite how much fun commodus could have making him do so. he has taken out his sword already - pointing it at james as a threat to obey. but obedience would not get this man anywhere safe. for commodus had already passed his dagger to his lover. he knew her dress would be covered in crimson by the end of it. it would not be a sign of lost purity however in intimacy. or perhapd it was. perhaps it was a sign that her final ounce of innocence would be lost when she plunged the dagger into his chest. she’d be favored by the gods now.
she watched as her lover barged into the room with no qualms. there was a semblance of acknowledgment on james’ face, as though he knew well that he had committed a mistake in approaching willow as he did. he’d ruined the day of their marriage, their chance at happiness that she so yearned for. but willow was determined to see him do no more harm to them. it would be an example — a lesson to all who desired to cause them more inconveniences. they would come to see that they had to fear not only the wrath of commodus but now that of his soon to be wife. she will shed blood today, gleefully so, and all of rome would come to see why the two were perfect for one another.
james watched, blood spilling from the wound on his lower lip. he shook, hesitating for a moment before dropping to his knees obediently. there would be no way for him to escape with his life and perhaps he knew this well, as he seemed too prideful to refuse with words. willow watched, rage in her eyes as she lifted her hand, taking the dagger from commodus’ hand. “ hold him. ” she tried to control the tremor in her voice, the shaking in her hand as she wrapped it so firmly around the handle. she was frightened of who she might become after this. perhaps bloodthirsty, infatuated with violence just as her husband could be at times. she looked down at james intently, stepping up to grab a fistful of his hair. she tugged, forcing him to look up at them as though they were gods, at their disposal. “ you fool, ” she mumbled, trailing the dagger over his cheek as he had done her. “ may you look at us and remember that the gods have turned their back on you. ”
he has not seen her like this before. so full of inner strength and power. his eyes are focused upon her as he obeys her as obediently as james. after all she is his empress, she is a goddess to him no doubt. he is enthralled by her power. taken aback her beauty in every sense of the word. he held james by his shoulders, keeping him still for willow as she cut his cheek with the knife. he would be in a puddle of blood after this. he would be screaming for mercy and no one would give it to him.
this was deserved. he deserved to be hurt and killed. perhaps after his dismissal they would be free from anyone else interferring in their happiness. they would be happy from here on out. that was the delusion he was under. but it was one of hope and hope can be a dangerous thing.
“kill him.” an order - instruction. its critical. he wants him dead so that no one ever hurts her again. he wants him dead so they can begin this new chapter of their life without fear of anyone corrupting the dream they shared with dirty hands.
commodusreigns:
rage. it is all he can feel. it boils his blood to think someone else has touched her and without her consent. he wishes to hurt james in wahs that are unimaginable. to hear his screams throughout the night and to laugh as he begs for mercy. commodus was not merciful, and this he knew. this, he accepted. he can feel how tired his body is. he can only act with violence now. his soft and sweet nature has been replaced with a desire for blood. they cannot marry until james is disposed of. he will not rest nor call her his wife until such a vile man is out of the picture. james. what a grotesque creature. he would encourage willow to plunge his heart with a dagger and remove it as a trophy - a reminder of her strength. but he would also be glad for the man to simply die. for the man to simply be out of their lives for good. the gods were throwing another obstacle their way. why must they always be tested?
he takes her hand with his own ringed hand. heavy and weighted by the metal. but strong. his hands so much larger than hers. he would use such hands to pin james to a wall so willow could seek her vengence. no one touched his lover but he. and he waited five long years for her touch, only for it to be taken away from him by this thing.
a so called man. five years of pain that he had been forced to endure. he would encourage willow to give james those five years in five minutes. a lesson worth having is a lesson worth teaching. “ do not cry my little willow tree, your branches do not sway when the village burns ” he whispers to her, a reminder of the story he had told her so many years ago. his hand raises, if only to brush the tears away from her face. his other hand in hers, to be led through the palace. equipped with his weaponary. “ do not stop even when he bleeds ”
she wondered whether mercy would have been her answer to this five years ago. it had been a very different time and willow, a very different woman. it seemed that time apart from commodus had opened her eyes. she had seen all the ways that she had been complicit in time lost with her lover. it made her bitter and impatient. oh, how she longed to marry him — to feel the softness of his bare body against her own. and what if james had gotten away with his intended assault? what would that make of her and her prospective marriage to the former emperor?
to think that a mere man would dare try to strip them of happiness, of the dream they talked of so often, made her feel sick. she gripped tightly onto commodus’ hand, ignoring the whispers that flooded the halls as they both swiftly passed through. there was only one thing that could ease her now — one remedy to all of this. death. murder. perhaps she had only been acting at the moment, a dire need for revenge taking over her. or perhaps this was who she was now. a woman willing to fight to the bitter end for love. the woman could only nod softly, lowering her head so that her husband to be could not see her tears. an inner battle was occurring within. she was guided by anger and guilt, versions of herself both past and present. “ i cry only of anger. anger that the gods feel as well. ” no man so ordinary as james could ever be looked down by the happy eyes of the gods. perhaps anger too. shame.
they approached the room she new to be his and she could hear the rummaging from the other side, soft curses spilling past his lips. she looked up at her lover, nodding her head softly. hesitance. she could feel it now. she was no killer and yet it only felt correct in her mind to exact revenge upon him. he had tried to take advantage of her as he’d done so many lowly women before. but she was not alone and her company was far from ordinary. when commodus loomed over her shoulder, so did the gods. he protected her with his strength and resilience and he would also come to rejoice in the face of her revenge.
commodus was a god in every sense of the word. the gods looked down kindly upon him and even in moments such as these he had no fear. mars must have been compelling him with lust for blood and war because it was all he could think and feel in his bones as he stood on the other side of the door, ready to force james to his death. commodus did not wait, with one movement of his leg, he kicked the door open - showing the man on the other side. and now there was no calmness in commodus, no sweet nature in him that would tell willow to bury her face to his knee and not watch whilst he slaughtered men. no. all he desired now was for james to be dead and at the mercy of his soon to be wife. his bride of whose gown had been damaged by the foolish and clumsy hands of a man who did not understand she was devoted to commodus.
“on your knees” he is so firm with his order, as though he is still emperor despite the republic having been taken over. and james would do best to fall to his knees. despite how much fun commodus could have making him do so. he has taken out his sword already - pointing it at james as a threat to obey. but obedience would not get this man anywhere safe. for commodus had already passed his dagger to his lover. he knew her dress would be covered in crimson by the end of it. it would not be a sign of lost purity however in intimacy. or perhapd it was. perhaps it was a sign that her final ounce of innocence would be lost when she plunged the dagger into his chest. she'd be favored by the gods now.
Manipulation Starters
Have some manipulation starters from both the manipulator and the one being manipulated. Some can be normal and non-manipulative, but this is to be taken with the tone that it is.
Trigger and content warnings for abuse and implied gaslighting.
"I only want what is best for you."
"Have I ever done something that truly hurt you?"
"What's best for the people is what I say it is."
"Of course I would never hurt you."
"Stop making me feel like I am crazy!"
"You're just manipulating me for your own gain."
"I have done everything for you and this is how you repay me?"
"Trust me. I know what is best."
"You're just imagining things."
"It hurts me that you think I did this to you on purpose."
"I am not playing your games anymore."
"It's not my fault if you took it that way."
"If you just listened to me this wouldn't have happened. You only have yourself to blame."
"This is your fault!"
"You made me believe everything you did was for the best, but you only wanted what was best for you."
"They will never love you like I do."
"You were right."
"Stay here with me where it's safe. You'll only get hurt out there."
"I can't trust you anymore."
"You've just been lying to me this whole time!"
"If you really loved me, you would stay."
"I'm not going to let you do this to me anymore."
"You trust me, don't you?"
"It would make me happy if you did this for me."
"You're a monster."
"Don't pretend that you ever cared."
"I am not going to be used anymore."
"It will break my heart if you're lying to me."
"I only hurt you to teach you a lesson. It's for your own good."
"It's for my own good. They know what's best."
"I should have just done what they said."
"This is my fault."
"I'm sorry, I should know better."
commodusreigns:
james. a name he had no doubt grown to hate. he had not even seen the man and yet all his blood boiled with each mention, and now he had another excuse to hate him. he had laid hands on his bride to be. he had ruined the day that was meant to be so happy between them. commodus wished to marry her. his wife. and yet, now they were stopped once again. he could only think about what happened. how her gown was ruined. how distressed she seemed to be.
“ did he…?” he does not finish this sentence. did he assault her? had james claimed his wife before he had? five years of waiting ane now the man had touched her? he didnt know. bit it felt that way. it seemed that way. and he knew atter so many years of waitimg theu now couldn’t get married. not today at least. despite how he wore his garments and how proud he looked. he was not a proud man. not when his to be wife had been defouled. touched. played with like a toy.
he could not raise his voice when she turned her back, but he raised his voice for another reason : “ TELL ME!” a demand. he wanted to know. and yet he felt as though he were opening pandoras box. it was a catch 22. to find out would kill him. the mere thought that another man had forced themselves onto her. potentially planted a seed into her to grow.
his breathing is irregular. he is trying not to let himself seem upset. he needs anger to take over him now. it would be the only cure to survive these circumstances. “ willow, you lead me to him and you will kill him. i…we cannot wed until he is dead”
the mere thought of what those moments were like left a bitter taste in her mouth. or perhaps that had been james’ own blood on her tongue. she had tried to wipe her mouth with a wet cloth — to rid herself of the remnants of his lips forcefully kissing upon hers. she could remember it so vividly despite her better attempt not to think of such things. but it was there, large hands grasping at the fabric of her wedding gown, lips furiously kissing against her own. she had tried just about everything. for he had made his intentions very clear. to defile her — to take advantage of her. perhaps if she would ward commodus away if her to find out that she was to have a child with someone else.
she fidgetted with the wet cloth, raising it to her barely bleeding cut. it would leave a scar, barely visible to anyone who would look at her but all too telling of the brutish senator’s assault. there were tears in her eyes now as he asked the question. “ no. ” the truth. he hadn’t gotten to touch her in the way that he had wished. “ but those were his intentions, ” she could only shake as she spoke, trying her best to fight the tears that weighed so heavily in her eyelids. “ i bit him as hard as i could, ” she closed her eyes, allowing the tears to fall freely now. willow continued to dab at her face despite this. she needed to be strong for both of their sakes.
too much pain, too much heartache. she would have left it at that if it had not been for james’ avid threat to return — to hurt either her or her husband to be. it was enough to fuel her with the desire to hurt him back, to kill him. she finally turned to face her lover, to look him in the eyes. “ i see it now so clearly, commodus. people take advantage when you are too nice. when you show kindness. ” willow extended her hand for him to take. “ come. i know exactly where we shall find him. ”
rage. it is all he can feel. it boils his blood to think someone else has touched her and without her consent. he wishes to hurt james in wahs that are unimaginable. to hear his screams throughout the night and to laugh as he begs for mercy. commodus was not merciful, and this he knew. this, he accepted. he can feel how tired his body is. he can only act with violence now. his soft and sweet nature has been replaced with a desire for blood. they cannot marry until james is disposed of. he will not rest nor call her his wife until such a vile man is out of the picture. james. what a grotesque creature. he would encourage willow to plunge his heart with a dagger and remove it as a trophy - a reminder of her strength. but he would also be glad for the man to simply die. for the man to simply be out of their lives for good. the gods were throwing another obstacle their way. why must they always be tested?
he takes her hand with his own ringed hand. heavy and weighted by the metal. but strong. his hands so much larger than hers. he would use such hands to pin james to a wall so willow could seek her vengence. no one touched his lover but he. and he waited five long years for her touch, only for it to be taken away from him by this thing.
a so called man. five years of pain that he had been forced to endure. he would encourage willow to give james those five years in five minutes. a lesson worth having is a lesson worth teaching. “ do not cry my little willow tree, your branches do not sway when the village burns ” he whispers to her, a reminder of the story he had told her so many years ago. his hand raises, if only to brush the tears away from her face. his other hand in hers, to be led through the palace. equipped with his weaponary. “ do not stop even when he bleeds ”
“im supposed to believe this is an accident?” / @commodusreigns
an accident. it was the first word that had slipped past her lips when commodus came rushing in to find her in his chambers. but what accident could be made of the disheveled look about her? she had been trying to fix her appearance — to seem as though nothing had occured so that she may rush down the aisle to marry her lover. but she had no idea how much time had escaped her in the process. it seemed that the ceremony had been called off — that her absence had gone on for so long that commodus himself came to her rescue, only to find her in such conditions.
the fabric of her gown torn and a thin cut right above her cheek. a threat on james’ part. she could still feel the weight of his body against hers as he pushed her into the nearest wall. and his hands, forcefully attempting to touch her. he had attacked her, viciously so. his way of impeding upon her wedding. “ it was no accident, ” she stated the obvious, words escaping her lips in between ragged breaths. she could not look at commodus, her back turned to him. disrespect. she knew it would anger him. all of this felt oddly familiar, as though she were still a mere slave who did not want her master to make a show of her attack.
but willow could no longer cry or fret in fear. she was angered, exhausted with everyone who had continued to belittle them both. she would not sit and hide her eyes against commodus’ leg as she had meant to do all those years ago. she had already seen too much to cower in fear. “ j-james. he did this, ” she whispered out, finally turning to face her lover. “ i am so tired, commodus. ” disillusioned. angry. she could only grit her teeth together. “ i want you to … i want you to find him. and i will plunge a dagger into his heart myself. ”
james. a name he had no doubt grown to hate. he had not even seen the man and yet all his blood boiled with each mention, and now he had another excuse to hate him. he had laid hands on his bride to be. he had ruined the day that was meant to be so happy between them. commodus wished to marry her. his wife. and yet, now they were stopped once again. he could only think about what happened. how her gown was ruined. how distressed she seemed to be.
“ did he...?” he does not finish this sentence. did he assault her? had james claimed his wife before he had? five years of waiting ane now the man had touched her? he didnt know. bit it felt that way. it seemed that way. and he knew atter so many years of waitimg theu now couldn't get married. not today at least. despite how he wore his garments and how proud he looked. he was not a proud man. not when his to be wife had been defouled. touched. played with like a toy.
he could not raise his voice when she turned her back, but he raised his voice for another reason : “ TELL ME!” a demand. he wanted to know. and yet he felt as though he were opening pandoras box. it was a catch 22. to find out would kill him. the mere thought that another man had forced themselves onto her. potentially planted a seed into her to grow.
his breathing is irregular. he is trying not to let himself seem upset. he needs anger to take over him now. it would be the only cure to survive these circumstances. “ willow, you lead me to him and you will kill him. i...we cannot wed until he is dead”
commodusreigns:
he could have kissed her forever. the sensation of her lips against his own, their lazy touches. oh, how he wished for night to befall so he could make love to her as husband and wife should. this moment of ecstacy interrupted as he heard the knocking on the door. the clear reminder that they would now have to separate, and be forced to be without each others company until the ceremony. he tries not to feel anger at the disturbance. but he has wanted her for so very long. five years to be exact.
“ i think that is my hint to leave, ” his voice is low and husky. but he presses a final kiss onto her lips before he rises from the bed, leaving her sprayed across the messy sheets they had found comfort in. commodus’ hair is messy, dishevelled after being bed swept. the curls point in different directions, but it doesn’t matter. he’d be bathed soon, groomed, and then dressed for the ceremony later on.
reluctantly he opens the door, bowing his head as the maidens bow to him. their emperor - despite how he was no longer. they’d seen changes in him that only a woman could bring forward. a woman such as willow. he turns to offer a lovers look to willow before he is ushered out to be taken elsewhere, leaving his lover alone to be tended to.
they were meant to be separated once again. willow rested her body against the sheets, gaze following his form as he moved towards the door. he was so beautiful, even now with his head of messy curls. it was funny to her, the way he moped about because he didn’t want to leave her side. he could be so cute, so sweet when he wanted. she lifted her hand to her mouth, blowing him a kiss as he retired and left her in the care of the servants.
she waited a few seconds, watching as the young girls and women rushed forth to get her ready. willow stood from her spot on the bed, greeting the women before leaving them to care for her. she remembered her first night in rome, the way she had been covered head to toe in dirt and sweat. commodus had directed the women to clean her, to get her ready to sleep in bed with him for the first night. it was astonishing how far they had come, what a different woman stood in these chambers today.
it felt as though hours had escaped them. they had bathed her and dressed her in the finest white gown. her golden hair, blonde and flowing down her back so long now that five years had slipped past their grasp. and a veil, white and lovely. it was typical for a bride to be dressed by her mother and perhaps in those short moments, she couldn’t help but wonder what it would have been like for her to be accompanied by the one person who’d showed her a semblance of affection. she sighed wistfully, jolting at the sound of the chamber doors coming to an open. she turned, expecting to find commodus. instead, it was someone else. james.
he was groomed and washed by the servants as he was removed from the chamber with willow. his little willow tree. how weak he was for her. he wondered if she knew, but it was clear to anyone whom looked upon them that he would butcher an entire population just for her safety and happiness. dressed in the finest robes and garments, covered in red and gold, the emperor still wore his crown. he was but a man now, but there was speculation that soon the senate would be driven out. forced to give back the empire to the emperor. people were beginning to like the emperor after all, but trust him? that was still up for debate. he had done so much and caused so much agony. that could not be forgotten and many wouldn't forgive him either.
it was time to be wed and yet he heard the hushed words of maids and servants. willow hadnt appeared yet. they couldn't ask the emperor to await for the woman as of yet. they werent sure she had came out of her chamber yet. it caused commodus to be sceptical. worried. he knew she wouldnt have him wait like this. not since they had waited more than five years for this very moment.
commodusreigns.
“ with brittle bones and graying hair ” their dream. so simple and yet it was all he wanted with her. to live out the dream they had fantasised over for years on end. the fact they were to marry now was perfect. the day had finally come where he need not worry of suitors wanting to take her hand. no one could have her now, only him. she had been dedicated to him to begin with and now she always would have a ring on her finger to state she was a married woman. happily so.
his body welcomed her nearness, arms around her so he can pull her closer to his chest. he needs her close. how could he not? she was the very oxygen he breathed. her lips were the softest of silks and he needed her kisses constantly to soothe the ache inside of him. particularly because all he wanted now was to make love to her. to repeat their dream in her ear as she’d moan his name over and over again, making up for the past five years they had been separated and neglected of intimacy. “ if there is nothing to keep us apart, then why do your lips keep leaving mine?”
“ and yet you will be looking as godly as ever. mesmerizing me with those eyes of yours as you always do. ” she would always shiver under his gaze, so intense as though every single thought could be read. willow had always thought an anticipated future to be dull and pointless. but she now knew what her future with commodus would look like and she was all too excited about it. a life together after so much hardship and plunder. it was the least they deserved. her fingers trailed from his cheek up to touch over his brow bone admiringly.
“ is it wrong of me to wish to speed through the ceremony? ” her eyelids were hooded, all too lost in the ecstasy that came with being so close to her lover. “ i yearn for night to befall upon us so that we may be alone. ” her words were playful, hinting at their first night together as husband and wife. it was only ordinary for a woman such as herself, who’d come to know great pleasures in the company of commodus, to want to feel such things again. five years. it had been literal torture for her. “ you make a fair point, future husband. ” before any more words are wasted, willow leaned in and pressed her lips to his in a tender kiss. she could have lasted hours just like this, lazily kissing and touching commodus. but it seemed time had other plans for them, as it wasn’t long before they heard the rapid footsteps of their maidens.
he could have kissed her forever. the sensation of her lips against his own, their lazy touches. oh, how he wished for night to befall so he could make love to her as husband and wife should. this moment of ecstacy interrupted as he heard the knocking on the door. the clear reminder that they would now have to separate, and be forced to be without each others company until the ceremony. he tries not to feel anger at the disturbance. but he has wanted her for so very long. five years to be exact.
“ i think that is my hint to leave, ” his voice is low and husky. but he presses a final kiss onto her lips before he rises from the bed, leaving her sprayed across the messy sheets they had found comfort in. commodus' hair is messy, dishevelled after being bed swept. the curls point in different directions, but it doesn't matter. he'd be bathed soon, groomed, and then dressed for the ceremony later on.
reluctantly he opens the door, bowing his head as the maidens bow to him. their emperor - despite how he was no longer. they'd seen changes in him that only a woman could bring forward. a woman such as willow. he turns to offer a lovers look to willow before he is ushered out to be taken elsewhere, leaving his lover alone to be tended to.
commodusreigns.
how lucky he was to be loved by her. to be at her disposal. she would be his wife in less than a few hours, and he couldn’t wait. so excited to finally claim her in every sense of the word. to have her under his name and to warn anyone away who might desire her with the ring he would place upon her finger. since his arrival back after five years he had not made love to her. seemingly now awaiting until they were wed. five years was a long time to wait for intimacy but it seemed it was better this way and for this reason. he hoped he could still pleasure her as he once had. a stupid thought but he worried in some ways. he also wanted children with her. desperate for her to announce she was pregnant to him and for it to be real. how elated he would be. how happy he would be to have made a child out of their love.
“ soon the maids will be knocking on our door to separate us. to prepare you in your gown, and i in my robe ” his intense gaze upon her as he felt her stroke his cheek. so soft was she. so gentle that he melted into touch. he loved her so much. so very much. he sighed a little, arms wrapping around her tighter as though he wished that they would not be parted. although for good cause, he wished to lay with her all day. but they would have plenty of time for that soon once they were wed. before being led away to spend a few nights outside of rome, alone, where they could savor the cosiness of just being lovers. “ i hope you will not be the one to disappear this time. i don’t wish to be left alone at the alter ”
the day had finally come. they would be married within just a few short hours. to think that they would finally be together, fated to live happily ever after. it was almost too good to be true but willow didn’t seem to question the path they were on. perhaps the gods had grown bored of toying with them both, of seeing that despite their attempts they had always seemed to find their way back to each other. it seemed these last few years had been but a haze, an in between state so that she may be ready for the next steps of the rest of their lives. she was so eager, so determined to see him in his garments, beautiful as he always had been. “ such a shame, is it not? i wish we could get married here in bed, limbs tangled together. ” she smirked playfully.
willow instinctively pressed herself closer to her lover, allowing her lips to softly press against his for a few seconds. “ why would i disappear? there is nothing that stands in our way now. ” her words were reassuring, calm as always. she could not help but feel overjoyed by the prospect of finally being his wife. “ we will live the rest of our days as husband and wife. our children and their children will crowd over us as we lay together in old age. just like our dream. ”
“ with brittle bones and graying hair ” their dream. so simple and yet it was all he wanted with her. to live out the dream they had fantasised over for years on end. the fact they were to marry now was perfect. the day had finally come where he need not worry of suitors wanting to take her hand. no one could have her now, only him. she had been dedicated to him to begin with and now she always would have a ring on her finger to state she was a married woman. happily so.
his body welcomed her nearness, arms around her so he can pull her closer to his chest. he needs her close. how could he not? she was the very oxygen he breathed. her lips were the softest of silks and he needed her kisses constantly to soothe the ache inside of him. particularly because all he wanted now was to make love to her. to repeat their dream in her ear as she'd moan his name over and over again, making up for the past five years they had been separated and neglected of intimacy. “ if there is nothing to keep us apart, then why do your lips keep leaving mine?”
“i woke up and the first thing I wanted was you” / @commodusreigns
“ and i you, ” she murmured, still in the haze of last night’s sleep. the first in so many years in which she felt the comforting warmth of her lover. she had expected to wake up in the morning and be met with the harsh reality that this had all been but a silly dream. that last night was imagined in the depths of her mind — that she had been going insane. but it had been commodus who woke her, his soft touches on her face and words whispered against her bare skin. “ but i am here as i have promised you so. ” she would never leave and she could only hope that neither would he. she feared watching him stripped away from her grasp, to be pinned against the bed until he was dragged out once again.
“ you have me. ” her words were soft and gentle as her fingertips glided over his cheek. she looked up at him with so much adoration — with a kind of love that she would never regard anyone else with. “ and soon i will be your wife. ”
how lucky he was to be loved by her. to be at her disposal. she would be his wife in less than a few hours, and he couldn't wait. so excited to finally claim her in every sense of the word. to have her under his name and to warn anyone away who might desire her with the ring he would place upon her finger. since his arrival back after five years he had not made love to her. seemingly now awaiting until they were wed. five years was a long time to wait for intimacy but it seemed it was better this way and for this reason. he hoped he could still pleasure her as he once had. a stupid thought but he worried in some ways. he also wanted children with her. desperate for her to announce she was pregnant to him and for it to be real. how elated he would be. how happy he would be to have made a child out of their love.
“ soon the maids will be knocking on our door to separate us. to prepare you in your gown, and i in my robe ” his intense gaze upon her as he felt her stroke his cheek. so soft was she. so gentle that he melted into touch. he loved her so much. so very much. he sighed a little, arms wrapping around her tighter as though he wished that they would not be parted. although for good cause, he wished to lay with her all day. but they would have plenty of time for that soon once they were wed. before being led away to spend a few nights outside of rome, alone, where they could savor the cosiness of just being lovers. “ i hope you will not be the one to disappear this time. i don't wish to be left alone at the alter ”
commodusreigns:
is a man. james. a suitor. he stared blankly for a moment. what had he been suspecting? that she would not wait for him? that she would wait for him despite not knowing whether he was alive or dead? what a fool he was. “ have you kissed him? have you laid with him? ” words that bothered his weary head. he was bothered by the thoughts that had come into his head. she said it was to maintain her position, but how was he to loathe her? it was irrational. he should not be feeling pain. he should not.
“ you are thinking about marrying him. i cannot loathe you for that” but he felt uncomfortable. discontent at the idea that she was proposed to, and perhaps could have been married. he had wanted to marry her years ago. to have children and be husband and wife. but that seemed like a distant dream now. non existent. not possible.
“ you love me? even now, and yet, you have not kissed me nor given me even the softest of touches ” he breathed as though it hurt him more than her words. despite how close she is, he turns his head to the side. he does not look at her now. “ i have no right to be upset with you, this I know. five years are a long time to wait for a man, and a long time to still be attracted to someone ” his dark eyes look towards her, softer this time. he wasn’t anticipating her to still find him attractive. perhaps he wasn’t. perhaps he wasn’t as godly as she had once said to him. not as astonishing too, as she had once remarked. “ no one will love you as much as I, this I know”
he had wanted her honesty yet for a moment she wished she hadn’t uttered such words. she thought of james, a man much older than herself. his intentions were to make a dutiful wife of her. but that, she was not. not for a man like him. “ no. ” she couldn’t help but contort her face in disgust at the mere thought. she did not wish a man of james’ kind anywhere near her. a man who had likely conspired to kill the love of her life, a man who did not listen to her words. “ you do not listen, ” she scolded lightly, tapping her fingertips against his arm. “ i have no intention of marrying such a vile man. ” vile. they were words she’d used in her mind to describe commodus once upon a time. but there was something about james. something that scared her.
“ i feel no safety even when simply speaking to him from a distance. ” they were not just convincing words. perhaps warnings. now that commmodus was back home, she had every intention of marrying him. she just didn’t know how this would sit with the senator. if he was anything like what she thought him to be, he would not give up so easily. it was as though he’d staked a claim on her and would not shake. even now, three years after his initial proposal.
“ you speak nonsense, commodus. ” if only he knew what kinds of things she felt at the sight of him. weakness, desire. her heart feels as though it might burst with every tender touch or kiss. even now after so many years of solitude, her heart warmed at the thought of him. “ i do not kiss you because i think you too weak in these moments. ” he was sick, not quite healed and she feared she would kiss the life out of him. she leaned in closer, weight slightly pressed against him. willow’s lips hovered over his cheek, waiting for him to turn so that she may properly kiss him. “ my attraction for you knows no bounds, commodus. i am simply being patient — waiting for you. ” waiting for him, for his recovery. “ you would not speak such words if you knew what you do to me. ”
no safety. “ has he hurt you? ” his words are firm. he needs to know. the thought that someone has hurt her or threatened her or simply made her feel uncomfortable discomforts him. he should be there to protect her and despite being vacant for the past five years, he was now back to protect her. he would be here to protect her and keep her safe from any harm that might come her way. his dark intense eyes stare at the ceiling, whilst he's thinking about how much they had been apart.
for how long. he wonders what had changed and yet she reassures him, despite his fears, that she still loves him and still is attracted to him - something he cannot believe. albeit is scolded by the taps of her fingers against his arm, as though being punished for his thoughts.
“ i am never too weak for your touch. the gods have given me their strength ” he tells her with a quiet voice. his head only turning to meet her lips with his own. to kiss her as though all his energy and power had returned. he truly thought that the gods had granted him with such power. to have him live through such pain, and survive? they must have made him a demigod. equivalent to hercules no doubt, who he had already been likened to by the people, but now? even more so than before.
he kisses her with such adoration and love. he does love her and he has missed her kisses. her lips are like silk, and yet despite having kissed her hundreds of times before, he is kissing her now as though it is the first time their lips have met. it feels like the first time. the electricity is so clear between them he can almost see it if he were to open his eyes. his hand raising, to go to the back of her neck and hold her - to keep her lips against his own.
commodusreigns:
“roses.” he smiled ever so slightly at the sound of that. her little hands tending to rose bushes. and her, even now, seemingly seeking his permission despite the fact that he knew this was no longer his place to reign. he had softened and changed because of willow. but also because of the trauma he had endured for five years. he would be kinder and gentler. merciful even. but perhaps he would not be given the chance too. not when the senate was now in charge and the people seemed happy with that. they did not desire the return of their emperor. perhaps they were happier at the thought of his death. perhaps he should have truly sought death. if only to give them something he couldn’t give them when he ruled - happiness and peace.
“ you know this is not my place to rule anymore, willow. you do not need to entertain me with the idea that i am still an emperor instead of just a man ” just a man. that’s what he was now. simply a man. a man who had returned home but…to what home? to who had he returned to? it caused him to stir slightly.
“and…men. what of them? you…are not wed?” his questions held many answers and many things he wished to know. was she married to someone whom wasn’t he? in love with someone who was not him? was he simply an old flame now, and she only felt obligated to be by his side out of kindness? he also wondered whom had shared her bed whilst he had been gone. whom had kissed her lips and who had she whispered lovers words to, letting them coax her to an orgasm and moaning their name in the night instead of his?
it would pain his heart. but how could he expect her to be loyal to him for five whole years? he was opening himself up for pain. but he had been forced to be in solitude, alone, without affectionate, intimate, or comforting touches from a lover. his dark eyes watch her, focusing on her - intense gaze - he wants to hear every word that seeps from her mouth. he wants to see her reactions and the expressions she’ll give to him.
she nodded her head, forcing a small smile upon her lips. “ they are beautiful. i shall show you when you are once again up on your feet. ” perhaps the garden had been a happy distraction from her solitude in the last five years. her heart had been torn to pieces after commodus’ disappearance and she had been expected to recover from it — to continue as though he had never existed. it was what rome continued doing, forcing even the fiercest followers of the fallen emperor to put one foot before the next. and willow had pretended so well. she’d put on the facade of a woman who had found strength in her loneliness. it was not hard to believe, as even now, many believed her forced into marriage with commodus.
just a man. his words struck lightning in her chest. “ we do not yet know what the state of the empire will be, ” she countered softly, hoping to comfort him in his thoughts. he thought that to be stripped of his title would render him weak. but had he not seen his strength? it would take the strength only of a man blessed by the gods to endure what he had. “ you will never be but a man. people speak words of your godliness now. ”
she had not kissed him. was that why he suspected her to have moved on? perhaps it was the time that had escaped them. only a madwoman would wait five years. five years without the warmth of a lover’s body on her own. “ no, i am not. ” she spoke the words cautiously, as though she feared he would laugh in her face and speak of what a fool she was. “ i do not yearn the touch of a man who is not you. ” her words were soft, whispered between the two as they had done so many times in the past. but she thought about james, about the ways he would rush to pursue her now. competition with the former emperor and he would foolishly think himself capable of such comparison.
“ but there is a man. ” is. she tenses slightly. eyes averted so that he may not see the shame in them. “ a suitor named james. he has asked for my hand in marriage. ” she instinctively crept closer to commodus, allowing herself to be comforted by his warmth. “ i had promised to think about it. ” he had asked her three years ago and she had yet to accept. in fact, she would likely never have even if it were her waiting ten or fifteen years for commodus’ return. “ i did it to maintain my place here, a silent opposition to the senate. ” would he understand? would he feel angry?
“ i beg you not to loathe me for this, commodus. ” her voice tremored as she spoke, worry taking a hold of her features. “ it is you who i love. ”
is a man. james. a suitor. he stared blankly for a moment. what had he been suspecting? that she would not wait for him? that she would wait for him despite not knowing whether he was alive or dead? what a fool he was. “ have you kissed him? have you laid with him? ” words that bothered his weary head. he was bothered by the thoughts that had come into his head. she said it was to maintain her position, but how was he to loathe her? it was irrational. he should not be feeling pain. he should not.
“ you are thinking about marrying him. i cannot loathe you for that” but he felt uncomfortable. discontent at the idea that she was proposed to, and perhaps could have been married. he had wanted to marry her years ago. to have children and be husband and wife. but that seemed like a distant dream now. non existent. not possible.
“ you love me? even now, and yet, you have not kissed me nor given me even the softest of touches ” he breathed as though it hurt him more than her words. despite how close she is, he turns his head to the side. he does not look at her now. “ i have no right to be upset with you, this I know. five years are a long time to wait for a man, and a long time to still be attracted to someone ” his dark eyes look towards her, softer this time. he wasn't anticipating her to still find him attractive. perhaps he wasn't. perhaps he wasn't as godly as she had once said to him. not as astonishing too, as she had once remarked. “ no one will love you as much as I, this I know”
“roses.” he smiled ever so slightly at the sound of that. her little hands tending to rose bushes. and her, even now, seemingly seeking his permission despite the fact that he knew this was no longer his place to reign. he had softened and changed because of willow. but also because of the trauma he had endured for five years. he would be kinder and gentler. merciful even. but perhaps he would not be given the chance too. not when the senate was now in charge and the people seemed happy with that. they did not desire the return of their emperor. perhaps they were happier at the thought of his death. perhaps he should have truly sought death. if only to give them something he couldn't give them when he ruled - happiness and peace.
“ you know this is not my place to rule anymore, willow. you do not need to entertain me with the idea that i am still an emperor instead of just a man ” just a man. that's what he was now. simply a man. a man who had returned home but...to what home? to who had he returned to? it caused him to stir slightly.
“and...men. what of them? you...are not wed?” his questions held many answers and many things he wished to know. was she married to someone whom wasn't he? in love with someone who was not him? was he simply an old flame now, and she only felt obligated to be by his side out of kindness? he also wondered whom had shared her bed whilst he had been gone. whom had kissed her lips and who had she whispered lovers words to, letting them coax her to an orgasm and moaning their name in the night instead of his?
it would pain his heart. but how could he expect her to be loyal to him for five whole years? he was opening himself up for pain. but he had been forced to be in solitude, alone, without affectionate, intimate, or comforting touches from a lover. his dark eyes watch her, focusing on her - intense gaze - he wants to hear every word that seeps from her mouth. he wants to see her reactions and the expressions she'll give to him.
five years. five whole years he has been missing. he vanished, into thin air, before they had arrived at rome. in the night, drugged and dragged away from his lover and taken. taken elsewhere for five years. a victim of his own carnage that he had caused. a victim of a war he had caused and created out of pain. his pain. but it had caused many other people pain. loved ones lost. pain that had been felt and people were mad. all were mad. and the pain others felt had caused them to act out, to take the emperor. he had been searched for but not found. a funeral was held for him despite his body not found. rome had turned to a republic as a consequence. it was what the people had wanted. what the senate had wanted.
torture. so much torture he had endured. whips to his back, and beatings daily. sometimes hourly. he prayed constantly for the gods to bring him mercy but none did. they never did. he was left to feel as though he would never see the sun again. never roam in fresh air. remain beneath the ground, to be punished for his actions. sometimes he begged to be killed but he never was. he was never killed. he was left to remain being pained, tortured, both physically and emotionally. he wondered of willow often. their dream of marriage and children. he needed her. he needed her comforting touch but it never came. for five whole years it never came.
it was on one night he had found himself to escape. he had ran so fast - so far. his breath was so heavy. panting. he wore his robes, and there was rage on his face. pain. sadness. he needed to be home. and he ran as far as he could until he fainted - only rescued by a passing farmer who carried him on the back of a horse back to rome, having recognised the emperor.
and there was such commotion upon the announcement that the emperor was alive. but he was so weak. hair curly and messy. dirty. his face still golden, but pale. as though he was sick. he had not felt the sun for so long. when he arrived at the palace, all of the staff and senates gathered around the unconscious emperor. he was carried through, panicked whispers and voices coming from them - worried of his health, of where he had been, the blood on him, but also of what it meant for rome when he woke.
@darksct
a silent tear fell from his eye. five years. where had he been? should he tell the woman of all the trauma he had suffered? all of the pain he had endured and the weakness he had felt? he simply looked upon her, holding back any further sadness and pain that had delved itself into the depths of his soul. he couldn't stand it. he couldn't. “ that...that is for another time, my love ” another time. another life. he could not tell her of his beatings. of how much pain he had suffered. but she would see it. the scars on his back, the bruises on his body as the medics tended over him.
he did not care that they were in the presence of others. his focus, only on her. “ please do not cry ” he whispers to her “ please forgive me ” a guilt was in him. so deep. a guilt of having left her behind. of having been without her. he had left her. promised her a thousand fantasies only to leave her for pain and solitude.
he laid in the bed, his head turned weakly. he wished to sleep but he didn't want to close his eyes, in fear that he would awake and this would all be a dream. he'd awake and she wouldn't be there. he'd be alone once again. “ i have thought of you for so long, my little willow tree. i have endured hell and i...i have lived to tell the tale ” a living hell. he had spent months apart from her before and that had been incomprehensible. but years? five years? he couldn't even think about it. he had suffered so much. to be apart from her had been hell. living hell. “ i want to sleep. but i fear that you...youre just a dream, aren't you? ” weakness. he showed weakness with how his eyes seemed to well with tears. but he was emotional both due to exhaustion and the reality he was living. a hell. “ be here when i awake. the gods have punished me enough ”
commodusreigns:
a silent tear fell from his eye. five years. where had he been? should he tell the woman of all the trauma he had suffered? all of the pain he had endured and the weakness he had felt? he simply looked upon her, holding back any further sadness and pain that had delved itself into the depths of his soul. he couldn’t stand it. he couldn’t. “ that…that is for another time, my love ” another time. another life. he could not tell her of his beatings. of how much pain he had suffered. but she would see it. the scars on his back, the bruises on his body as the medics tended over him.
he did not care that they were in the presence of others. his focus, only on her. “ please do not cry ” he whispers to her “ please forgive me ” a guilt was in him. so deep. a guilt of having left her behind. of having been without her. he had left her. promised her a thousand fantasies only to leave her for pain and solitude.
he laid in the bed, his head turned weakly. he wished to sleep but he didn’t want to close his eyes, in fear that he would awake and this would all be a dream. he’d awake and she wouldn’t be there. he’d be alone once again. “ i have thought of you for so long, my little willow tree. i have endured hell and i…i have lived to tell the tale ” a living hell. he had spent months apart from her before and that had been incomprehensible. but years? five years? he couldn’t even think about it. he had suffered so much. to be apart from her had been hell. living hell. “ i want to sleep. but i fear that you…youre just a dream, aren’t you? ” weakness. he showed weakness with how his eyes seemed to well with tears. but he was emotional both due to exhaustion and the reality he was living. a hell. “ be here when i awake. the gods have punished me enough ”
she guided her thumb along his cheek, gently wiping away at the tear that rolled down it. his skin was so cold, so pale. it was as though he’d only been a shell of the man she knew then. her lover, the one she had adored so. but now he was broken, doing his best to keep his pains hidden. “ another time. okay, ” she hummed, nodding her head softly. she did not wish for him to relive those terrible moments. she could only imagine the kind of beatings he’d endured, the torture that he had been subjected to.
“ forgive you? ” she wept, closing her eyes as tears freely rolled down her cheeks. she could feel the heat rising to her face at his words. “ why would i need to forgive you, commodus? you’ve done nothing wrong. ” she could not believe he was apologizing in these moments, thinking of her with such selflessness. she wondered whether it should be her, apologizing for having left first all those years ago. it seemed that her initial departure had led them down a dark road, a string of punishments enacted upon them by the gods. “ i am just happy that you’re here with me once again. ”
she listened to him speak. he appeared so weak, so tired. and yet it seemed he was forcing himself to remain present. “ you are so strong, my love. risen from the ashes like a phoenix. ” she brushed strands of hair past his face before softly withdrawing her hands and placing them atop his. she kept ahold of him, now wondering whether she would ever be able to let go. “ no, commodus. i am truly here. in our home. ” a home that was no longer truly theirs. but she would pretend if only to soothe him of his worries. “ and i will never leave your side. not ever. ” willow’s brows furrowed, her thumb rubbing slow circles along the top of her hand. “ rest. i will be here when you wake. ” as she had been when he was poisoned. as she would always be.
he did obey her, he needed her permission before he closed his eyes and fell into a deep slumber that was no doubt needed. he had not slept properly for years, surviving on such little sleep. and the emperor did sleep for hours on end, until the evening. the doctors and medics tended him whilst he slept, and maids came in so they could wash his face and his hair as he slept so deeply - as though he might not ever awake. he did not even stir in his bed, simply slept, looking like a peaceful angel.
when he awoke, his eyes fluttered open - looking around the unfamiliar room that had once been so familiar to him. but now he could only sense panic - panic until he saw the woman before him. familiar face. willow. his dark gaze upon her, as his hand reached out to touch her cheek - to graze his fingers against her skin, feeling how soft he was. so soft. he had missed her for so long. he had wanted to touch her. he wanted to kiss her and feel her after so many years. hold her in his arms. but he was also so conscious of how she had been alone for five years. had she waited for him, for all this time?
“ you’re still here “ he whispered softly, pleased by the sight of her. she was still so beautiful. so very beautiful. a goddess as she always had been. and he was pleased that they were now alone. no doctors or medics or servants tending over them. just the two of them. “ my little willow tree, “ he breathes as he seems to use his fingers in that usual dominating way of his - to make her look at him by gently grasping her chin.
“ i thought of you day and night. for five years. in solitude. alone. please tell me you have happier stories to tell me over the past five years i’ve been gone - “ a plead. pleading that she had some better memories - things to tell him other than sobbing at his loss. “ i have heard that they thought i was dead. did you think i was dead, my willow tree? “
five years. five whole years he has been missing. he vanished, into thin air, before they had arrived at rome. in the night, drugged and dragged away from his lover and taken. taken elsewhere for five years. a victim of his own carnage that he had caused. a victim of a war he had caused and created out of pain. his pain. but it had caused many other people pain. loved ones lost. pain that had been felt and people were mad. all were mad. and the pain others felt had caused them to act out, to take the emperor. he had been searched for but not found. a funeral was held for him despite his body not found. rome had turned to a republic as a consequence. it was what the people had wanted. what the senate had wanted.
torture. so much torture he had endured. whips to his back, and beatings daily. sometimes hourly. he prayed constantly for the gods to bring him mercy but none did. they never did. he was left to feel as though he would never see the sun again. never roam in fresh air. remain beneath the ground, to be punished for his actions. sometimes he begged to be killed but he never was. he was never killed. he was left to remain being pained, tortured, both physically and emotionally. he wondered of willow often. their dream of marriage and children. he needed her. he needed her comforting touch but it never came. for five whole years it never came.
it was on one night he had found himself to escape. he had ran so fast - so far. his breath was so heavy. panting. he wore his robes, and there was rage on his face. pain. sadness. he needed to be home. and he ran as far as he could until he fainted - only rescued by a passing farmer who carried him on the back of a horse back to rome, having recognised the emperor.
and there was such commotion upon the announcement that the emperor was alive. but he was so weak. hair curly and messy. dirty. his face still golden, but pale. as though he was sick. he had not felt the sun for so long. when he arrived at the palace, all of the staff and senates gathered around the unconscious emperor. he was carried through, panicked whispers and voices coming from them - worried of his health, of where he had been, the blood on him, but also of what it meant for rome when he woke.
@darksct
a silent tear fell from his eye. five years. where had he been? should he tell the woman of all the trauma he had suffered? all of the pain he had endured and the weakness he had felt? he simply looked upon her, holding back any further sadness and pain that had delved itself into the depths of his soul. he couldn't stand it. he couldn't. “ that...that is for another time, my love ” another time. another life. he could not tell her of his beatings. of how much pain he had suffered. but she would see it. the scars on his back, the bruises on his body as the medics tended over him.
he did not care that they were in the presence of others. his focus, only on her. “ please do not cry ” he whispers to her “ please forgive me ” a guilt was in him. so deep. a guilt of having left her behind. of having been without her. he had left her. promised her a thousand fantasies only to leave her for pain and solitude.
he laid in the bed, his head turned weakly. he wished to sleep but he didn't want to close his eyes, in fear that he would awake and this would all be a dream. he'd awake and she wouldn't be there. he'd be alone once again. “ i have thought of you for so long, my little willow tree. i have endured hell and i...i have lived to tell the tale ” a living hell. he had spent months apart from her before and that had been incomprehensible. but years? five years? he couldn't even think about it. he had suffered so much. to be apart from her had been hell. living hell. “ i want to sleep. but i fear that you...youre just a dream, aren't you? ” weakness. he showed weakness with how his eyes seemed to well with tears. but he was emotional both due to exhaustion and the reality he was living. a hell. “ be here when i awake. the gods have punished me enough ”
Make me feel
Tears.
He did not wish to find her in this state but he felt as though he suspected it. These turns in her moods. These switches. His intense dark eyes upon her hoping that she might stop her tears. But they didn't stop. They were continuous and bothersome. Something inside of him unable to turn his back to her and return to his own room, pretending as though nothing happened. But he couldn't.
Instead he walked slowly to her and placed his hand upon her shoulder, “ My darling, ” his voice is softer than it has ever been. Perhaps it is because they are so equally tired. Exhausted because of many factors. “ Why are you crying, my busy little bee? ” A term of endearment he had once used to threaten her but now said with love and affection.
five years. five whole years he has been missing. he vanished, into thin air, before they had arrived at rome. in the night, drugged and dragged away from his lover and taken. taken elsewhere for five years. a victim of his own carnage that he had caused. a victim of a war he had caused and created out of pain. his pain. but it had caused many other people pain. loved ones lost. pain that had been felt and people were mad. all were mad. and the pain others felt had caused them to act out, to take the emperor. he had been searched for but not found. a funeral was held for him despite his body not found. rome had turned to a republic as a consequence. it was what the people had wanted. what the senate had wanted.
torture. so much torture he had endured. whips to his back, and beatings daily. sometimes hourly. he prayed constantly for the gods to bring him mercy but none did. they never did. he was left to feel as though he would never see the sun again. never roam in fresh air. remain beneath the ground, to be punished for his actions. sometimes he begged to be killed but he never was. he was never killed. he was left to remain being pained, tortured, both physically and emotionally. he wondered of willow often. their dream of marriage and children. he needed her. he needed her comforting touch but it never came. for five whole years it never came.
it was on one night he had found himself to escape. he had ran so fast - so far. his breath was so heavy. panting. he wore his robes, and there was rage on his face. pain. sadness. he needed to be home. and he ran as far as he could until he fainted - only rescued by a passing farmer who carried him on the back of a horse back to rome, having recognised the emperor.
and there was such commotion upon the announcement that the emperor was alive. but he was so weak. hair curly and messy. dirty. his face still golden, but pale. as though he was sick. he had not felt the sun for so long. when he arrived at the palace, all of the staff and senates gathered around the unconscious emperor. he was carried through, panicked whispers and voices coming from them - worried of his health, of where he had been, the blood on him, but also of what it meant for rome when he woke.
@darksct
commodusreigns:
five years. five whole years he has been missing. he vanished, into thin air, before they had arrived at rome. in the night, drugged and dragged away from his lover and taken. taken elsewhere for five years. a victim of his own carnage that he had caused. a victim of a war he had caused and created out of pain. his pain. but it had caused many other people pain. loved ones lost. pain that had been felt and people were mad. all were mad. and the pain others felt had caused them to act out, to take the emperor. he had been searched for but not found. a funeral was held for him despite his body not found. rome had turned to a republic as a consequence. it was what the people had wanted. what the senate had wanted.
torture. so much torture he had endured. whips to his back, and beatings daily. sometimes hourly. he prayed constantly for the gods to bring him mercy but none did. they never did. he was left to feel as though he would never see the sun again. never roam in fresh air. remain beneath the ground, to be punished for his actions. sometimes he begged to be killed but he never was. he was never killed. he was left to remain being pained, tortured, both physically and emotionally. he wondered of willow often. their dream of marriage and children. he needed her. he needed her comforting touch but it never came. for five whole years it never came.
it was on one night he had found himself to escape. he had ran so fast - so far. his breath was so heavy. panting. he wore his robes, and there was rage on his face. pain. sadness. he needed to be home. and he ran as far as he could until he fainted - only rescued by a passing farmer who carried him on the back of a horse back to rome, having recognised the emperor.
and there was such commotion upon the announcement that the emperor was alive. but he was so weak. hair curly and messy. dirty. his face still golden, but pale. as though he was sick. he had not felt the sun for so long. when he arrived at the palace, all of the staff and senates gathered around the unconscious emperor. he was carried through, panicked whispers and voices coming from them - worried of his health, of where he had been, the blood on him, but also of what it meant for rome when he woke.
@darksct
five years. five years without so little as a sign of her husband’s status. her husband, only in thought. she remembered the way he had been taken from her arms as they slept in bed. men, holding her back as she tried to reach out for him. she was left to imagine where he had been taken to, whether she would ever see him again. but days turned to months, months to years. the senate of rome had waited all but a month before assuming control of the empire. she had returned, only to be displaced of her future status. she was no wife of commodus, not officially. her life was turned upside down, fears becoming a reality. and their happiness, reserved only for those short moments between them.
but she held onto hope, ignoring all claims that commmodus had ceased to exist. he was rumored dead and the senate claimed to have no knowledge of his disappearance. willow knew better, watching as they had attempted to murder commodus for months on end. and while she had no claim to the country, while she could not stop it from becoming a republic, willow had remained firm on keeping her place in the palace. the people had come to know her one way or another, and she had firmly convinced the men that the people would suspect terrible things if she were simply tossed aside. strength, as though commodus was acting through her. but he wasn’t dead. she knew it so. her heart still yearned for him in the same ways, clinging on to the thought that he would someday return to her. oh, but he hadn’t.
it was an agreement that the senate seemed to find no trouble with. after all, she was but a woman. a former servant, incapable of rioting or demanding claim to the empire. but she was also a threat. her time with commodus made her dangerous to the status of the empire. so she kept her place, tossed aside yet very much present. she lurked, doing her best to hear the ushered whispers of commodus’ name. she longed for news of him or proof of a greater conspiracy to get rid of him. but she hadn’t. there were no signs, no ways of knowing.
“ the emperor lives! ” she could hear the words yelled out in surprise by a servant. the middle-aged woman, seeming to rejoice of such news, prompted willow to stand on her feet. she had been given a room in the far end of the castle but she ran eagerly, wisps of air falling from her lips as she approached the main hall. “ is it true? ” she quickly called out, pushing her hair from her face as she watched a multitude of medics walking into and out of the room. she did not wait for an answer allowing herself to eagerly move in that direction. “ commodus? ” she called out in a shaky breath, expecting to find him upright, golden and mightier than he had been when she’d last seen him.
commodus was tended to by medics. their words were only spoken in whispers, considered for the state of the former emperor. the man they had thought dead and yet, very much alive. he still looked strong and golden, god like, and that's how they were referring to him as. a demi god. as hercules had been to have survived such turmoil as he had and still awaken from a seemingly dead state.
five years and now he had returned. having ran all the way to rome, to where his home was, only to find himself greeted by hushed words as though he were a ghost. his body, golden but bruised. covered in bruises and markings, scars that were both from fight but also the torture he had endured. the beatings. relentless. he had seen their faces, imprinted in his mind. as they emasculated him and tried to deem him unworthy. but he wasn't. of course he wasn't.
as he sat there, being tended to, he was in a state of disorientation. so thirsty. so hungry. he was also in a state of disbelief that he had survived and was back in his home. but it wasn't his home. the senate had taken over, and although they couldn't tell commodus to leave, they had taken whatever power he had in the belief he was dead. now he was alive however and posed such a threat to them. he blinked. dazed. he heard a feminine voice - familiar - but one he thought he might be imagining.
“ willow? ” his voice is quiet at first as if he wishes not to be heard. as if his mind is betraying him as it often had over the past five years with dreams of her and of children. children they might have had once upon a time. in another world. but then he is looking towards her. she lights any room she is within. glowing. angelic. his heart is so loud. thumping so heavily at the mere sight of her. she's here. in the flesh. he cannot believe it. cannot comprehend it. but here she is. with him. “ come closer. are...do you not know to greet your emperor? ” forever trying to sound strong. authoritative even now. when all he wished to do was have her in his embrace. to feel that she was real. to comfort him from all his fears.
