Here’s a little drawing of a scene @emmacreatures and I came up with for our Gladiator AU in which my OC Aelius and Geta go into hiding in order to protect the young emperor from the rising tensions and civil wars within his own empire, partially instigated by his rivaling brother Caracalla. This temporary escape puts Geta into a vulnerable position he is not at all used to, and he has learn to be able to put all his trust in Aelius if he wants to survive.
Tonight, he was Nicholas Covington. One final reprise of the charade. Tomorrow, he would be extracted, finally to return home. Two decades away had felt like an eternity. But his mission had been an important one, as he had reminded himself every time he wondered what he was doing wasting away in Eorzea. All for the glory of Garlemald. He had long dreamed of the day his work would be complete and he could return. He was, admittedly, not looking forward to the bitter cold after he had spent so long in the Black Shroud’s milder clime. But he longed to see his nation, his family, his people. His wife. His son. Aelius was just a boy when he had left, but he would be a grown man now.
Selene was no comparison to his Caecilia awaiting him back home, but she made for a decent enough spouse on paper–good looks, a decent family lineage but just disgraced enough she did not think twice about accepting his proposal, enough gil attached to her family name for them to live comfortably before his own pay in this land had been worth anything, and she had even born him a daughter. Sure, she was vain and preoccupied with herself, but that lended itself to a sort of naivety he found convenient. She rarely asked any questions of him or his past, and never paid much mind to anything he did.
Faye was every bit her opposite, despite their surface-level similarities, and the two were ever at odds because of it. She’d grown into a strong-headed and sensible young woman who he was convinced took far more after him than her mother, but that savage blood in her veins was undeniable. He would be a fool not to make the most of it, however. Her innate skills with healing and magic were a boon not bestowed upon his own people, and he saw to it that her talents blossomed. She was the link to the aether he could never manipulate himself, and his only legacy in Eorzea.
A legacy soon to be cut short. He was quiet through dinner. That wasn’t unusual, though. Selene was busy fussing over Faye picking at her food. She had seemed a bit gloomy ever since Zularti had left, though he couldn’t be certain if she missed the boy, or just envied the independence he had found. After dessert, he excused himself to his study where he spent most of his time within the manor. But tonight was different. Tonight, he poured himself an extra drink before he settled into his armchair.
Tomorrow, everything would be up in flames. He knew exactly what he must do, and the plans were already in motion. No loose ends, no strings left attached, no evidence. The house, the family, every trace of his life in Eorzea would be razed to the ground, and as far as anyone would know, Nicholas along with it. He couldn’t dwell on it. It was simply what must be done. Factual. Inevitable. Inescapable.
He had downed half of his glass when he heard the door creak, cracking open just enough for a familiar face to peek through, pale and delicate. “Father?” She pushed the door open fully, standing in the threshold. “Is everything all right?”
Of course she had noticed. She was a clever girl. She had a way with reading people, even though he didn’t believe she had realized it yet herself.“Of course.” He mustered a small smile for her. “Don’t worry your pretty little head about it, my dear.”
She lingered a moment, doubt and concern weighing a frown on her features despite herself. She didn’t respond to him, only turned to leave and shut the door behind herself. He wasn’t certain what possessed him, but before she could close to the door, he found himself calling out to her before he could think better of it.
“Faye.” The sound of her name was enough to halt her in her tracks, and she turned back around to face him, the question clear in her expression. “My daughter. Do you know you are my proudest accomplishment?”
She gawked at him, puzzled, but she ultimately accepted those words. “I love you, too, Father.” Awkward, amused, embarrassed, confused. The words were restrained, but the emotions behind them were obvious enough. She quietly shut the door.
Tonight, he was Nicholas Covington. Tomorrow, not even Stanislas van Corinthius would be enough. Tomorrow, he would be the Blue Viper once again.
