It is interesting to wonder if Commodus would stop obsessing over Lucilla if he had another woman in his life 🤔 Like if he had an arranged marriage, would his obsession transfer over from Lucilla to his new wife or would he be obsessed with both, or not care about his wife? I'm kinda delusional so I believe I could have the power to end his lifelong obsession with his sister but canonically my self awareness tells that might not actually go well lol.
Let's be delusional together then.
Canon wise I think it would be very difficult to find someone who stopped Commudus obsession with his sister. Specially since more of an obsession I feel like it's the true belief that she is the only one "worth" for him (because they share the same blood and all that incestuous stuff from the upper classes).
But, I headcanon Commudus as someone who likes a good challenge and change (as long as it is under his control), so finding someone smart, kind of witty and entertaining to talk to could help making him to slowly change his mind and attitude.
He will start asking you to wear something that day, styling your hair in different way just because he wants to see you like that, gifting you jewelry that he wants you to put on...
Honestly knowing Commodus he's probably gonna make us start dressing like Lucilla 😭
Canon wise... probably... But I'm too jealous to believe that, so in my head he will slowly stop obsessing over his sister 🥴
BUT IT WOULD BE SO FUNNY if one day you and Lucilla find each other in the middle of a hallway, both greeting each others and she seems to pass away but suddenly stop, turns around and goes "are those my earrings?"
And at long it helps her not having to deal with him, maybe she evens give you some things she's not using anymore 😭💀
Me loves an evil man, but dammit it if it has been difficult to decide how he would act in a relationship. I just feel like everything felt possible. Here's my try tho, hope y'all like it.
NSFW under the cut!
A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex).
This is the time where you see his most gentle side. He softly caresses your cheeks with his index, kissing your forehead as he admires you, unable to do anythibg else but look at you with that little shine in his eyes that you never really know if it comes from desire, possessiveness or joy to be on your side.
He might just stay in silence and wait for any of you two to fall sleep or maybe make some chit chat about the day, just wanting to hear you talk.
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
He likes his eyes a lot. He is pretty aware of the effect that they can cause on other people, from frightening them to seducing.
When it comes to his partners, he can't help but being a boobs guy. Doesn't matter if they are big or small, he loves to touch them, seeing them, kissing them...
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
Anywhere you let him (or wherever is more convenient for him). Your chest, your abdomen, inside you, your ass cheeks, your mouth. He won't wipe it right away, taking a good look at it proud about it, asking you gently if you liked it, needing to hear that you like it. But why wouldn't you?
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
He loves to get his fingers suck, and sometimes he doesn't even ask you to do it, he just puts his thumb gently on your lips and waits for you to lick it. At the same time, he loves to taste you, so if he fingers you he will lick himself clean, tasting you there. He also will get deep with his tongue kisses and, of course, spend as much time as he feels like between your legs.
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
Doesn't seem like that he might have any lovers. Maybe he has tried a few things with concubines, but it didn't satisfy him. Once he gets your hands on you tho, he finally understands so much better why sex is such a big deal for some people.
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
My man is a romantic, missionary does not get old for him. He likes to put your heels on his shoulders and see your reactions to his thrusts. He will only suggest to do doggy style or any other position where he can only see your back unless there's a mirror.
If you get on top of him and ride him, he won't be able to stop pampering with compliments of how pretty you are.
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
He's too passionate to do anything else than enjoy you and adore you once it gets heated.
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
Clean and shaved everywhere, like the good Cesar's son he is.
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
He may start flirtatious and even tease you but he quickly gets passionate, going from a slow and sensual pace to however both of you need that day.
He holds you tight with his grip, so much that you'll find bruises from his fingers on your inner thighs or forearms. He does not always mean to do it, but he can't help to love seeing the marks show up after a steamy night.
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
Before you two finally were a thing, he started masturbating more frequently since he couldn't stop thinking about you, whispering your name over and over as he pleasured himself. He would even edge himself a little, wondering if you would do it to, his thumb caressing the slit of his head, teasing himself until he couldn't keep it up.
Once you are together, he may do it if he is far away from you for a long time, but that does not usually happens since he will make you travel with him if it's safe to do so.
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
If you are not careful, he will slowly introduce an obvious power play dynamic that will go both ways. He will start asking you to wear something that day, styling your hair in different way just because he wants to see you like that, gifting you jewelry that he wants you to put on...
He will enjoy it of you take a submissive role, but if show him that you can also toy with him a little, he will oblige as much as his responsibility allow him.
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
His bed is his favorite place in the world. It's big enough for both of you and he knows that no one will interrumpt.
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
Knowing that you want him as much as he wants you is one of the best feelings for him. It can be in a romantic, friendly or intimate way, but just be clear and vocal that you want him and he will only be able to satisfy your wishes.
He gets extremely needy if you just sit on his lap anywhere, specially if you do so as he is seated on his throne.
But if you want to make him drool, wait for him on your shared bed wearing only the jewels that he has gifted you. He will love the sight so much he might fear he is having visions.
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
He won't even think about the idea of threesomes or anything that means sharing you. He might put you in a situation where people can obviously see how you are only his, like making you sit on his lap in public (like a small party at the palace) and massage your thighs with his hand under your dress, looking at you satisfied to show you off, but never as an invitation so someone else could get into bed with you two.
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
He likes giving, specially when it takes you to the point of you pleading for more, or even for you to ask him to stop because of how overstimulated you are. Then, it's about how merciful he is feeling that day, making you repeat yourself over and over until he feels you did well enough.
When he is the one receiving he gets so flustered and exited that if you gag a little on him he will moan, bucking his hips into your mouth so you do it again. He will hold your hair with his hand and look at you eager.
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
He starts slow and sensual, focusing on how everything feels and once he finds the perfect angle he starts hammering you down into the mattress.
When he comes he likes to muffle his moan in your skin, maybe kissing your neck or hiding his face between your breasts.
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
Not a big fan. He wants to feel you and take his sweet time with you.
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
He is the one that usually introduces stuff: tying your hands, blindfolds...
And even though he usually takes the lead, he will gladly let you be the one in charge if you show interest into do so. That's how you find out how much of a pleaser he actually is, showing you how good he can be at everything you demand.
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
He can last for a good two long rounds. After that he needs some time if you still want to keep going.
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
Commodus, you would have loved long distance vibrators. He would make you put one and tease you all day long, sometimes making it clear if he didn't want you to come or encouraging to come as many times as you needed thought the day.
And about toys that there could have been at that time, he also would enjoy using them on you, but I don't think he would let you use some stuff on him.
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
I feel like he changes drastically depending on the role he positions himself.
If his feeling dominant he may tease you a little, draging his fingers over your skin, letting you know, without a word, that he can just do that and more if he feel like it.
But if he comes to you submissive, he will get so needy and straight to the point, pleading to know what you want, and almost whimpering when you flatter him with compliments.
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
This man is loud. He groans and pants and comes either repeating your name over and over or with a loud moan that sometimes he muffles as he kisses your neck.
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
Praise kink. 100% it's just so obvious.
Caress his hair as you make him lay his head on your lap, call him 'pretty boy', 'my sweetest' or something like that, and he will plea to let him suck on your nipples or eat you out fast and eager, to the point that it's animalistic. He will ask you over and over if its good, if he is doing good, if he is a good boy.
Once you come from his tongue, he will look up at you, his mouth covered in your pleasure, kissing your thighs as he whispers over and over how much he loves you and needs you.
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
Big but proportionated, neither think or slim. 9'5 cm.
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
He yearns for you continuously. Not necessarily for sex only, but just to be with you. He just gets a little to obsessed.
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
He likes to pamper you with kisses first and watch how you fall asleep, but if he is tired he will let you know and hug you as he drifts into his dreams.
~~~~~~
Again, thank you so much for the love in the other hc. If you have any suggestion or want me to write anything, please!! do so!! i have my ask box open!!
Here's some Commodus piece! right in time as Gladiator II is out. I started writing this imagine a while ago, in August which was a particularly rough time where I lost my grandpa, I needed to write about it, but it took time, time to start grieving as well. (so obviously TW death)
I dedicate this writing to my grandpa and anyone who faced or is facing the hardship of losing a loved one. Everything will be okay loves ❤️
Everything will be okay
You were taking care of flowers in the imperial garden; you had chased slaves and gardeners wanting to help you out. Your face was puffy and red, your eyes swollen and a headache splitting your skull. You were trying to keep your mind distracted, away from the brutal shock of the news, the pain filling your whole being. The blank state of your mind was soon interrupted by a rumbling of armors and quick steps, your heartbeat quickening, you knew who it was.
“Leave!” ordered the voice of Commodus, your husband, making any person leave the gardens, even his praetorians. Before you turned around his strong arms wrapped around you, squeezing you tight. You clenched your jaw, feeling your heart going wilder, your eyes turning watery, unable to say anything, you bit your trembling lower lip.
“I’m sorry Y/N.” he breathed, pain filled his voice too, as if anything that affected you, touched him too. He gently turned you around in his arms, cupping your face to meet your eyes. The moment he did, you let out a strangled sob, tears escaping your eyes. You wrapped your arms around him, squeezing him, desperately trying to suppress the pain as your tears wet his chest plate. Commodus let go of you, undoing the laces of his armor, briefly parting from you to take it off and just as quickly as you parted, his arms were around you again. This time you could feel his reassuring warmth, his quick breathing, and that is all you needed in that moment. Commodus remained silent; he knew there were no words enough to express the comfort he wanted to give you, how much he wanted your pain to go away, take it all so you could smile again.
“I planted new flowers, Damascus Roses, I…sorry for disturbing your day…” you spoke after some, time, parting from him to pick a few leaves from plants, a way to distract yourself, trying to stop crying. Your husband approached, resting his hand on the small of your back, understanding.
“They are truly beautiful; I have no doubt they shall blossom soon. And you did not disturb me, you are always my priority.” He reassured you, kissing your temple. You looked down at the leaves between your fingers, tearing them into small pieces.
“I never expected father to die so soon…he was healthy…I used to say he would live close to a hundred years old…and now…” you then spoke, silent tears streaming down your cheeks “I couldn’t even see him…talk to him…one last time…I had so much to say…so many hugs to give…” you sniffled, biting the inside of your cheek, wanting to stop crying, but you couldn’t, the pain was too immense.
“Y/N. He knows you loved him dearly; I have seen you send him the letters; you have done your best. But the gods…decided to call him to their side as he was worthy of them…please do not hurt yourself with these thoughts…” he tried, his hand keeping on rubbing your back soothingly, guiding you to a marble bench to sit. You instantly leaned against him, letting him wrap his arm around your shoulders. “I know how you feel. I had a different relationship with my father but for so long, I craved to hug him, to speak about how I felt, to tell him how much I loved him and what I would be ready to do for him…yet I never really could, only when I lost him, I let it all out and it was too late. But you my love, you have been a good daughter, I am sure that from the Underworld he smiles at you.” He soke softly, his eyes wet, sharing your pain, your distress.
“In my religion, there is no underworld, but Heaven and Hell...I hope he is in Heaven; it is similar to what you call the Elysian Fields.” You explained between sniffles “He deserves to be in peace, he was always good to us and trusted you blindly without even knowing you really.” You smiled through tears. “I wish you had met him; he would have liked you…” your voice shook again, struggling to speak those words. Commodus looked down, swallowing his saliva, his other hand reaching for yours, his fingertips playing with your wedding ring.
“It is not too late to pay my respects to him. I could…Y/N just say the word I will bring back his body to you.” He let out, taken by passion as always, unafraid of the challenges he could face. “I can bring him to you so you can embrace him one last time, bury him as your beliefs requires.”
You turned your head to him; not sure you had heard correctly. You met his eyes; he was terribly serious. He was offering you a way to grieve, to make your peace. You pinched your lips together, searching his eyes, amazed by the man you had the luck to call your husband.
“Say the word Y/N. You only need to command, and I shall be your hand.” he said again, confirming his intentions, bringing your hand to his lips and kissing it devotedly. You swallowed down, torn, in this hard moment you wished for Commodus to remain by your side, yet to bring back the one you lost eased your spirit, a final goodbye.
“Bring him back to me, my love…” you finally managed to say “Please…” you whimpered, your hand cupping his cheek briefly, sorry to make him leave. And even if his eyes showed signs of yearning, he spoke none of it and stood, placing himself in front of you before kneeling, putting his fist on his heart.
“Your word is my command.” He vowed, looking at you determined, taking your hand and kissing it with equal devotion. “I leave the Empire in your capable hands my love. I will bring back your father.” He promised, and stood, turning away, calling his scribes and guards, giving instructions as he put his armor back on, ready to ride to Gaul to get your father’s body. He instructed that a priest had the body to be embalmed or preserved until he arrived so he could process to the roman rituals for the dead to allow the soul to pass and not remain wandering in the mortal world. He instructed as well that word doesn’t come out that he left Rome, for your safety; to pretend he was sick and that in the meantime his wife assisted by his counselors would rule.
And just as fast as he had arrived by your side, Commodus had left, it would take about a week or a little more. Thankfully as Commodus had left, you inherited most of his workload, drowning yourself into letters he received, papers from the Senate and more. It distracted you, to the point you worked yourself to exhaustion, otherwise when night came you would cry yourself to sleep, it was normal after all but in those moments, you missed Commodus’ comfort more than ever.
As days passed you grew anxious, where was Commodus? Did he manage to obtain your father’s body? In which state? Would he even be able to bring him back? You stared at the sleeping city from your balcony, your tired eyes looking out for any movement, any singular event…
“Your majesty.” You were startled by a knock on your door, in the middle of the night, it was rather unexpected and even worrying. No one woke the lords in the middle of the night unless it was extremely urgent. Your pulse instantly quickened at that thought. You rushed to the door to open it, not bothering to cover yourself.
“Did something happen?” you asked, your eyes traveling between your chambermaid and the messenger, looking for any clues of bad news. The messenger bowed, averting his eyes at your light clothing.
“Forgive my presence so late in the night, highness. But I was required to reach you as soon as possible and by any means from the Emperor himself.” He apologized, your heart skipping a beat, your hands rolling into fists anxiously. “The Emperor is on his way to the palace, he should reach you before dawn. And whishes to inform you that he brings back your father with him.” He announced, slightly widening his eyes as you froze, your eyes glassy and tears starting to escape. Your chambermaid sent the messenger away, grabbing a warm shawl to cover your shoulders as you walked outside of the sleeping quarters. You couldn’t rest, you couldn’t stand still for as long as Commodus wasn’t standing in front of you.
And for what seemed like endless hours, you paced restlessly in the halls of the palace, your mind imagining the moment you would see your father, what state was he in? would you lose all sanity at the sight?
From afar you could hear the rapid footsteps of a dozen horses, so you rushed to the entrance of the inner court, ordering the doors to be opened. The group instantly entered, each carrying torches, except for one, Commodus, his horse was dragging a tiny carriage and on it…a silhouette, wrapped entirely in linens…your father.
“Y/N” you barely heard him call your name as he stopped close to you. Your eyes were fixed onto the cadaver of your father, your heart pumping into your ears, your body frozen in place, scared to approach, scared to touch the icy skin, scared to lift the veil and see his face…
“Y/N.” repeated Commodus louder, as he got off his horse, nearly collapsing on his knees in front of you, his fist on his heart, he caught your gaze to make you look at him. “I brought your father to you…I thank the gods proper care was done to preserve his body. Do not fear to lift the veil as he seems to be only sleeping.” He spoke with confidence to reassure you, it had to be done, to help you grieve properly.
“Thank you...” you murmured, your lower lip trembling as tears began to fall freely, blurring your vision almost entirely. Commodus stood up and came to stand by your side, one arm wrapping around your shoulders as he made you approach the corpse.
“I am here. Do not be afraid.” He murmured, licking his lips almost nervously as he tried to do a cross sign to accustom your beliefs and respect your father as well. Then, he approached his hands, carefully uncovering the face of your father. It was like sleeping as he described…but more pale, quieter…at least you were glad to notice his face didn’t show any traces of suffering.
“He didn’t suffer, the healers told me he was gone in his sleep.” Informed Commodus as if he had read your thoughts. He took a step back to allow you to come closer, your hands trembled and your heartbeat so fast that you felt breathless. This was real, he was really dead in front of you and yet it felt surreal, like a nightmare you would wake up from.
“Papa...” you cried out, your hand going to brush over his gray hair, soothingly caressing them. “I am so sorry…so sorry we couldn’t talk one last time…sorry I couldn’t hug you…sorry I couldn’t be there...” you sobbed, tears falling on his burial shirt.
You stayed there for an hour, maybe more, touching him gently, speaking to him; during that time, Commodus remained standing by your side, ordering a few things to his praetorians so you two were left alone in that painful moment. As your eyes had no tears left, a headache splitting your skull, you turned to your husband, throwing yourself into his arms, burying your face in his chest, his tunic absorbing the wetness of your face as he squeezed you tight, kissing the top of your head, soothing you the best he could for long minutes.
“I have ordered my praetorians to fetch a Christian priest. We will have him buried in their cemetery if you wish.” He spoke quietly. You squeezed your eyes shut, moved by his care “Thank you...” you murmured against his chest before lifting your head to look at him. Only then you noticed the bags under his eyes, the dust covering his skin and clothes, his shoulders weren’t as straight as usual, he was exhausted, probably pushing through his limits to remain standing; he had been so fast, he had surely ridden days and nights, without truly resting. That was something you had always loved with Commodus and yet it also worried you; when he had an idea in mind, he would lose sleep and hunger until he had reached his goal.
“We should go prepare for the burial, you could rest a bit, my love…” you murmured tenderly, so thankful he was there for you, so thankful you he had chosen you as his wife. You headed with your husband to your private quarters, taking hold of his hand, a comfortable silence between you.
“Bring me a warm water basin, and the necessary to wash. Also, black clothing for the emperor.” You ordered your chambermaid and removed his armor piece by piece, dust flying all around the room, the scent of sweat reaching your nose. You threw away his under-armor tunic and undergarments as well.
“Y/N you don’t have to do this…” protested Commodus, as he understood your plan. Not wanted to be a burden on your heavy spirits already.
“You brought my father back to me, all the way from Gaul to here.” You simply replied, dampening the washing cloth in the warm scented water “Besides, it distracts me. I need to think about something else for a bit, clear my mind.” You added softly, your eyes burning from too much crying every time you blinked.
“How could I face you again if I didn’t even have the time nor will to do this for you? I couldn’t bear it…then, I wanted to meet him properly.” He spoke softly as you washed his feet, soundly exhaling in relief, his muscles relaxing.
“Circumstance could have been better. But yes, he would have liked you, I think… He deeply valued ambition. He used to say I deserved a man who knew what he wanted and who wanted to reach the sky to provide me and my future children the best life.” You smiled softly as you thought of him, yes, he would have liked him. “Look at your hands my love...” you commented, referring to how callous they had gotten but especially the small cuts he had on his palms from squeezing the reins as he rode.
“Can you tell me what he was like? What kind of man? I know things of course from public knowledge but you know better.” He replied, letting you apply oil on his palms.
“He was such a clever man, a scholar from the beginning. He read much, Greek classists, some Roman ones too. He always said that you couldn’t understand the world you live in and its future without understanding the victories and defeats of the past. He was very strategic in his decisions; he had that broad vision over things…he would have been an excellent counselor to you or would have enjoyed debating with you...” you chuckled nostalgic, grabbing a dry cloth to dry his skin.
“So that is where your sharp mind comes from when talking politics hm?” you heard the smile in his voice, trying to cheer you up “Wrapped in the sweetness of your mother. Any emperor around the world would bend the knee.” He cooed as you looked up, gently cupping your face and kissing your forehead protectively. “I would have been deeply honored to discuss with him.” You closed your eyes, wrapping your arms around his waist and hugging him more, your face against his chest, listening to his heartbeat, that was so calm and steady even after that exhausting trip, it soothed you too, everything will be okay.
“Now, if you are ready, let’s accompany your father to his eternal resting place. Let us not keep the gods...your God waiting.” Commodus spoke softly, a little encouraging smile, telling you he would always be there.
English is not my native language, so I apologize for any mistake and if you can help me improve it, I will greatly appreciate it. I hope you enjoy it :D
The soft and warm breeze coming from the deserted Roman streets caused you, as was usual in your slightly anxious and nervous person, a strange feeling of restlessness that many could assimilate due to the strange cool gusts that arose suddenly and chilled anyone who was surrounded by them, but all assumptions disappeared when you stressed to yourself that the reason for your anxiety had begun not long after the sudden death of the former emperor of Rome. Marcus Aurelius, known for being a man as strong as Hercules himself or as wise as the ancient ancestors, had been a second father to you, a man who with his extensive memory told you even the smallest details of each of his adventures in the foreigner and the various conquests that he had managed to make and be victorious around Rome to make his empire one that he had managed to take to Africa, being discovered as a technologically backward continent and very little known by those who were around his Roman kingdom, turning out to be one of the kindest men to those who really knew him, having helped the most impoverished population through various laws and in dire situations, including slaves, women, and children.
That man had always taken care of you, he had made you feel protected under his attentive, loving, and proud gaze; He was the father you never had. Although you did not belong to one of the highest social classes, at least you did not belong to one of the lowest, and this, together with the fact that your mother took care of her children since the first of them was born, evidently your arrival into the world. It caused you to spend more time in the Roman palace where the emperor and his children were.
"As thoughtful as always," said a voice behind you that caught your attention, bringing you back to reality with a soft gust of fresh air that made you sigh. "Again, you find yourself thinking, even if you are in the safest place in the whole world, next to me."
That voice, which was usually distant from those who bothered him or showed irritability when directed towards less close people, was now soft and calmer than how you had heard it before. He had been angry before, your husband had been really angry, and now everything seemed more peaceful because he could see your wonderful ethereal figure next to the large balcony of your room.
“I find myself thinking about you, as usual,” you murmured, hoping to show him a little of the affection your heart held for him, slowly turning your body to turn your back to the beautiful view of the empire that loomed beneath your feet, facing the sharp and distant look of the man who had not moved from the main door of the room. "You know I always think about you. I worry about you, especially when you're awake when the moon is so high in the sky."
A soft growl, barely audible, came to you like the roar of a lion. You always liked to show your affection towards him, but you were also aware that he wasn't entirely used to receiving it from anyone other than his sister, even if he had shared his life with you since he was five years old.
Now everything was very different. Commodus was no longer the adorable boy who so often held your hand when he forced you to run with him through the palace corridors, trying to get you to keep up with him so that the guards wouldn't catch you in some absurd game that he thought that it had occurred to him and he would win for being the son of the emperor, even though that was only an excuse to be closer to you and explore that physical contact that he had heard so much about from the cooks; Commodus was no longer the charming boy who so many times tried to sweeten your ear so that you would ride a horse with him despite the various denials you gave him every time he proposed that activity that avoided being malicious, even if the only thing he wanted to feel was it was your arms around his waist. Although, despite all this, and even though Commodus had grown to become the man you know today, there was one thing that had never changed despite the years.
"I don't see the point in waiting up for me. Tomorrow you won't get out of bed until it's late and all I want is to share at least a little of my awakening with my wife's love," he scolded you, trying to be a little serious with you, even if the slight curvature of his lips denoted the opposite. "You do it every night. You wait until I come to the room, whether you long to rest in Morpheus's arms or not."
"You know that I don't like sleeping with light, and I'm aware of how much the darkness terrifies you," you told him, approaching one of the candelabras that rested peacefully on one of the pieces of furniture near your large double bed, ready to make the flames disappear that little by little were consumed. "I don't want you to feel afraid in a place where you should feel at home, much less after the great and important service you offer to Rome."
The emperor felt something strange inside him, he always did when it came to you. Your kindness and serenity, your understanding, and your sweet soul were the attributes that made you the perfect candidate to rule the great Roman empire with him, even if the latter was never to the liking of his late father; He had too many imperfections and had committed terrible acts that not even he would forgive himself if he had to judge himself, but you always seemed to see through it all to the person who was really hiding behind that same layer of grime and horror.
You had met a Commodus that no one else was able to see, or perhaps no one wanted to accept that he was there. He had always been despised, you had seen that with the constant rejections of his father as he was always chosen as his last option; He had always been separated and humiliated, being the laughing stock of the guards who were supposed to protect him so much when he was pointed out as a weak man for not being able to withstand the constant beatings when he was trained to be noticed by his own father; He had always been the outcast of his own family, only knowing love through her older sister Lucila and seeing her as the mother he lacked so much during her youth. All of this meant that the only thing he knew, as far as feelings were concerned, was bitterness and loneliness, even if he had you to vent in his moments of greatest weakness.
"As my wife, you are supposed to listen to me," Commodus said in an attempt to appear authoritarian with you, even though he was aware of your stubbornness and how much you didn't like him speaking to you that way, trying to make himself look more strong and imposing in your presence. He was obviously looking for a reaction from you and got it when you raised one of your eyebrows in question. "I can be fine in the dark, I'm not a child anymore."
"Did you stop being a child three days ago? Because remember, my dear Commodus, that three nights ago you were in bed hugging me as if something bad was going to be done to you, begging me for there to be a tiny little flame in sight or a light to illuminate your part of the bed," you answered with a soft sly smile, keeping you close to the last lit lamp that provided light to the room, putting more emphasis on that fear that you had never managed to figure out how to remove; Sometimes it was exasperating not knowing how to help him at times like this. "Your well-being is one of my greatest concerns and, if you do not feel well in the only place where you should by obligation feel comfortable, then it is my duty to do everything possible to make you feel protected."
Moments like those, in which you showed your genuine concern for him, could be very common throughout the days, but he always appreciated them as if they were the first time you said those important and strong words for him.
An attempt at a smile appeared on his face. He gently lifted the cheeks of his lips, which made you feel a little more relieved to see that the tension he had carried with him all day seemed to have momentarily vanished with your short speech.
You observed the way in which his tall body, muscled by the various exercises he performed throughout the week and which had apparently begun to deteriorate a little due to the obligation to continue doing other chores, let himself fall, exhausted and exhausted, to the edge of the large imperial bed that had belonged to you since he was crowned emperor, making it bounce softly at how soft it was, while the thin pillows full of feathers sank with their weight towards the defeated side, closing your eyes so that the Darkness slowly surrounded him, and it was only because his eyelids had lowered and not because the last light in his room had faded with the air coming from outside.
Small hands that he would recognize anywhere on Earth, as delicate as glass and as soft as silk, he felt as they were quickly placed on his sharp cheeks that, thinner than they had ever been, showed a slight deterioration in his physical appearance state due to stress. Your hands so loved and tender, gently cradled his face so that he would relax, causing his jaw to relax as he felt your thumbs tracing his bone and there were no longer any frown lines on his forehead frowning from him; Now everything was starting to be different at that late hour of the night.
"How do you do it?" He questioned himself, even though his words escaped from his lips and reached your ears. "How do you make him feel safe with your caresses, more than I could ever be in the company of the entire Roman troop?"
Your laughter flooded his ears in such a perfect way that he couldn't help but accompany your laughter with his own, as if it were an effect that you had on him, allowing you to attract his head towards your body, thus causing his face to be buried on your soft belly covered by a long white silk nightgown.
"I don't know, you answer that question for me."
His greenish eyes, always showing curiosity, slowly rose and drew your elegant dark and slightly moonlit figure to finally meet yours in that dark and dull room in which you were. And that's when he saw it, at that moment he was able to answer himself. Your eyes shone with love, with warmth, with a light so strong that it could guide him back to you if, at any point in his life, he felt lost wherever he went; because you were his light within his world of darkness.
warnings: toxic/unhealthy relationship dynamics(?) and mentions of specific gender roles (I don’t know how else to describe it)
summary: A retelling of the ‘frightful dream’ scene . . . Your husband Commodus requests some time alone while he reads scrolls from the senate. When night comes and he still has not sent for you, you take matters into your own hands; you find him fast asleep, but never at peace. // Reader stumbles upon her husband Commodus who’s been crying and offers him comfort.
author’s note: I never thought I’d write for Commodus again and I am so pleased that inspiration struck! A few things before reading: I am not trying to promote toxic masculinity or the idea that men shouldn’t cry or express emotion, but at the time, it would have been viewed as a weakness especially from someone of Commodus’ social standing. I wanted to delve into his mind a little and write a softer side to him that he surely has, but that we did not see too much of onscreen. His descent into madness intrigues me and I wanted to explore that in this fic somewhat. All seriousness aside, I just want to hold Commodus while he cries and writing this allowed me to do so, at least, in some form. If you read this fic, I hope you enjoy it.
Edited.
The emperor was midnight rain.
Winds rich with humidity blew through the open palace halls, carrying the pungent scent of fresh herbs, smoke from guttering torches and the heavy rains yet to come. Storms were brewing on the horizon and while the people of Rome slept, unbeknown to them, there too was a cacophonous melody playing inside of their Caesar’s tired mind.
It was far too late for you to be wandering the palace alone, but Commodus had bid you leave; he was to spend the twilight hours poring over scrolls from the Senate, as his father was apt to do in the past. The young emperor sought not to follow in his father’s footsteps, but be that as it may, some things cannot be helped.
You had busied yourself in the gardens earlier, when the light still stretched across the sky and plunged the Roman landscape in a vibrant orange glow that slowly faded until the wispy clouds high above your head twisted into a mesmerizing purple-pink majesty. You found solace amongst the flowers, watching idly as little bees busily buzzed from bloom to bloom.
When the light died and you still had not been sent for by the emperor, you took leave of the gardens and reentered the palace through the open doors.
Inside, you made yourself comfortable in the library for a few hours to delve into a book or two, devouring the words on each page like your mind was starved of food for thought.
Immersed in another world were you and did not pay mind to the bustling which took place beyond your imaginings.
Servants passed through the halls, completing their evening duties, lighting torches for ease of sight as the night set in, cleaning the already spotless floors, checking and rechecking stock to be certain there was enough of everything… Even the ghastly praetorians and their looming, statuesque figures faded while you were so captivated by ink on a page.
As the pitch black of midnight bled in through the outer walls of the fortress, the hustle and bustle of evening had dissipated considerably and the only prevailing sounds were those of the whispering winds through silk curtains billowing in the minor disturbance or a barely imperceptible clink or grate of armor as a praetorian moved from his post.
Still, no word from your emperor.
That fact disturbed you, though you knew he was safe. The palace would have been thrust into chaos had anything been amiss, yet it still gnawed at you that this was highly unusual.
Commodus was protective to a fault and rarely let you out of his sight for any length of time, but he had been pulled in many a direction for the duration of the week at hand and you had to find entertainment where you could. The Senate and the people of Rome needed him now; you could wait.
When Commodus became emperor, everything changed like midnight.
You put your book back in its place on the shelf and quietly crept from your sanctuary. Your guards, stationed at the door, fell into step behind you and trailed you down the hall like phantoms of night. It felt silly to be so cautious inside the palace, but it was Commodus’ orders; what was the use in listening to him if he was just going to forget about you?
Turning, you dismissed them and, with a shared, confused expression between the two of them, they branched off and left down a side hall.
It appeared that you were finally alone, but such was never the case in Commodus’ domain.
You forged ahead beneath the watchful gaze of praetorians you knew were there, but you could not see them. They were there for your protection, to diligently guard the palace and the emperor, but their strict stoicism and the serious air about them made you nervous. The unwavering loyalty between emperor and his personal guard was strengthened by one man’s resolve, though your Commodus had been plunged into manic paranoia until it became oppressive.
Your footsteps carried, heightened by the fact that there were no other movements or sounds coming from elsewhere to blend with yours.
You took yourself straight to Commodus’ chambers.
There were two guards posted at the doors that were still shut tight. All was as it had been when you left, except these guards were fresh and bright eyed, having replaced the two that had been there before.
You approached them and bid they let you enter, “I request that you allow me access to the emperor’s chambers,” you said.
“Caesar has requested that he not be bothered,” one of them spoke, unconvinced to let you pass despite your connection to the emperor.
“I can assure you that, should Caesar be displeased by my admittance, it will not fall upon your shoulders.”
They seemed uncertain, but soon relented, stood aside and allowed you to enter.
You did not want to disturb him and you did your best to keep any sound of your entrance to a minimum as you slid through the doorway and into the vast room.
The cold floors were contrasted by the wet winds that blew in from the open terrace. Night was well under way and you were worn, though your walk from the library to your emperor’s chambers had accelerated your heartrate considerably. It would be nice to relax with him, alone, if he had found himself at a proper stopping place with his scrolls.
Upon initial inspection, the room looked relatively unchanged. The desk was still covered with open scrolls, parchment and ink. His quill rested idly by and, though all appeared well within your initial inspection, the only thing out of the ordinary was that the emperor was missing from his workspace.
You cast a look over your shoulder, noting the miniature scale of the colosseum was unchanged, and your searching gaze landed on the bed. Commodus was curled in on himself tightly, his back to you, as he snoozed lightly on the plush mattress.
You smiled to yourself, reasoning that he must’ve gotten so absorbed in his work that he’d not realized the time, grown exhausted and retired for the night before he could send for you.
Odd as that may have been, it was plausible. Commodus had never been known to have forgotten you before, but things were different now. He made a conscious effort to please the Senate and that meant spending extra time revisiting scrolls, passing legislation and participating in, as well as negotiating, Rome’s politics with the dry old men your emperor had once been so critical of.
Commodus rarely slept, at least, undisturbed sleep was near impossible for him to achieve. Perhaps the scrolls kept him from thinking of it, you thought, and that was why he had been able to visit the land of dreams, but you were relieved that he had finally found peace.
Your fingers skimmed one of the jade marble pillars as you shifted about the room, uncertain of how you should bridge this gap. Torchlight streamed in from the carved stone latticework, coating half of the room in a spectacle of oddly shaped shafts of light, including the curtains which framed the imperial bed.
To avoid the embarrassment of awakening him, you swiftly removed your sandals so that the noise of you walking would not echo. You shivered as the chill of the marble floor penetrated your skin and sank deep within you – a pleasant reprieve from the humid air.
However, when the wind blew in through the open terrace particularly hard, you drew your yellow stola in closer about your shoulders. You noticed that Commodus’ own garb had been removed – his cape and armor lay on a table not far from the colosseum model – and he slept in just his tunic.
It puzzled you that he lay on top of the linens and your brow creased in thought.
Tentatively, you approached the bed, careful to remember to step up onto the raised platform; the thought of tripping and unceremoniously toppling onto the emperor of Rome as he slept was not a pleasant one, but the thought still made you smile. If something of that nature were to happen, it might make Commodus shriek in terrible fright and send the guards at the door into a frenzy, but once he realized it was only you, there would have been no repercussions, only gentle laughter as he pulled you into the bed beside him.
You had fallen in love with the young Roman prince, before he had become emperor, three summers ago when the heat of late August was not the only thing which left you feeling breathless.
There was nothing he would not have done for you then and that was still the same now, even if everything else was different.
You remembered fondly how he had courted you, eventually asking for your hand in marriage and how you had eagerly accepted. You were wed the summer before this; little did you know those few months would be the last time that things would ever be so simple.
You sank onto the bed and the mattress dipped beneath your weight.
Commodus murmured softly and folded in on himself a bit more, instinctively protective of his vulnerability. It pained you to witness his paranoia, even while he slept. The ever-present thought that at any given moment someone might burst through the door and try to hurt him kept him from ever letting his guard down completely. That, among other things, kept him awake most nights.
The torches and oil lamps still burned bright; the fuel had been replenished earlier by some servants while Commodus was busy with his scrolls. Your heart ached for the young man who never slept in the pitch black of night; he was afraid of the dark and maybe that was why he never would look in the mirror either, because that same darkness lived in him, too.
You were compelled to reach out and touch him, then, gently stroking your hand along the curve of his face and as you did, you gasped in surprise, almost drawing your hand away; his warm cheek was damp with tears.
It had not been long since the emperor had fallen asleep, cried himself to sleep, you painfully reminded yourself.
Why had he not sent for you?
Resisting the urge to wake him, you shifted your weight as you settled in behind him and draped an arm over him. Soon, the solid press of his back against your front eased your nerves and you carefully and deliberately reached up and combed your fingers through his dark hair. He cooed softly in his sleep, sniffling a little as he relaxed beneath your touch. The tension flooded out of his shoulders while you held him like this. Even in his sleep, he could sense that the comfort was yours, brought to him by his cherished wife who loved him more than his own father ever had.
His father.
Commodus had tried to be the son that the great Marcus Aurelius had wanted. He had tried to make his father proud, but nothing he had done was good enough and, what was worse, he did not know why. Why did his father not love him? Commodus did not know the reason, but in the end, it was clear: Marcus Aurelius had longed for a different son.
Since then, Commodus had tried to squeeze love from various sources but it never satisfied him.
Not until he met you.
“My love…” you whispered to him, careful to lift him gently out of his dreams, “please awaken and talk to me.”
Commodus moaned and for a moment you were not sure if he had heard you until he responded with a full-bodied stretch and the rustling of fabric met your ears as he turned to glance at you over his shoulder.
His eyes were green like freshly sliced limes and just as bittersweet; they were red-rimmed and tired, lined with dark circles that alluded to the many nights he had suffered through without sleep.
He said nothing, but turned over until he was able to wrap his arms snugly around your shoulders. He remained that way for a time, clinging to you while his body adjusted to wakefulness after the impromptu nap.
His heavy eyelids fluttered and his head dropped to your shoulder, “I’m sorry…” the apology was whispered into your skin and you almost did not hear him.
When he looked up at you with an almost childlike expression on his face, you cupped his cheek in the palm of your hand and stroked across it with the pad of your thumb, “Commodus,” you started, “is everything alright, my love?”
He craned his neck and kissed your palm, “it is,” he said, “now that you are here.”
Your hand fell away and reached for his, sliding your fingers into the spaces between his own thicker digits. He squeezed you tight, the ghost of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips before he looked away again, “I meant to send for you, but I was in such a state…”
He did not need to tell you more. He had been crying, that much was confirmed by the drying tear tracks upon his smooth cheeks and the redness in his eyes. Commodus’ emotions were often left unchecked; he felt so viscerally, violently and brutally and the tears would come, whether they were born out of pure sadness, or frustration and rage.
It was one thing to express emotion, but it was another entirely to witness it from the emperor of Rome.
The only time he could fall apart was when he was by himself.
He was supposed to be a fearless hero but instead he cried more than some women did and that was unacceptable.
At least, it had been for the stoic philosopher Marcus Aurelius, who had once grown tired of his son’s outbursts. Commodus doubted it would be any different now. The palace was his own, but this new life was not.
He did not want his servants or his guards to see him crying while asking after you; that was not an image he wished to paint for them.
While he waited for the tears to subside, he had relaxed on the bed until he succumbed to his exhaustion.
“That is alright,” you assured him, “I was reading in the library for a time because I thought you were still at work.”
“No,” he responded, the dulcet tones of his honeyed voice was indicative of sleep, the vestiges of which still clung to him like ivy on stone, “I finished with that some time ago. These senators demand more from me each passing day that I have no choice but to work as I do now, just like my father had done.”
That sentiment hit some nerve within him and was certainly the source of these tears and what had brought them forth, “Commodus,” you repeated his name but the sound of it did not reach him.
He was looking through you, unsettling as that was, he was prone to it. Often did you wonder what he heard and saw in these moments that were lost to the wind and rain. These elements were, too, present within the emperor who was waning into crescent, tearstains glittering like stars on his cheeks – this man was made of midnights and he was hauntingly beautiful.
Only, when the darkness had overtaken him, he did not reemerge anew.
You tenderly kissed his forehead; his skin was warm against your lips. He drew you closer through the barely imperceptible inhale as his nose rested at your collarbone and you tilted your head back, allowing him to find comfort where it was needed.
He had dropped your hand in favor of holding you while his full lips pressed bruising kisses against the bare column of your neck. Your fingers found his hair again, giving it a gentle tug of affection that made him groan appreciatively.
He lifted his head and leaned close, his sweet breath fanning across your face as he pressed his forehead to yours. His eyes flickered in the lamplight as he looked at you, “do you know what my father said once?”
You languidly chased his lips with your own, but he eluded your desires, resolving to let you capture and conquer him in his own time, when he was ready.
“I don’t,” you replied, “won’t you tell me?”
“He said that it’s a dream…a frightful dream, life is.”
You looked into Commodus’ eyes, but he was somewhere else. You did not have the courage to speak up until he asked you, “do you think that’s true?”
You hesitated, momentarily assessing how best to respond.
“Sometimes it is,” you settled on a half-hearted agreement for now and his shoulders slumped into you as though out of some sort of relief.
“And I have only you to share it with…” Commodus’ eyes brimmed with tears and he bit back a sob, “but I have no proper time with you now. It is all like some great nightmare!”
Your arms encircled him comfortingly and you rubbed his back to soothe him, understanding that his tender state was in part the fault of his father who had failed him as a child, but also because Commodus was just so tired. In his fitful sleep, it was difficult to reach him, but even more when he was awake because he could not escape his nightmares even during the day.
There was a slowly burning madness inside of him and soon it would boil over.
But, not tonight.
“Shh, Commodus.”
You held him close while he cried, shoulders shaking with the force of each painful sob that carried and reverberated off the palace walls and made it seem all the louder.
You pulled him in against you, your bodies flush to one another and you could feel his heart beating rapidly against your chest.
Commodus scrounged for love in every aspect of his life, searching for fulfillment in dealings with his guards, the people of Rome and occasionally even the senate. He desired love himself, but he also wanted to be the provider of love to his people because if they respected him then perhaps, they might love him, too.
It was you who gave him what he needed, only, it seemed that it was not enough.
He had an empire to run, scrolls to read, legislation to propose and citizens to care for; Commodus was meant to be an emperor first and a husband, second.
His sobs grew quieter and more restrained, changing from full-bodied cries to soft whimpers. Your cheek rested against the crown of his head, your hand still rubbing his back as you held tight to him.
Many times had you found yourself in this position, but few of them were like this.
The tearful emperor would have been perceived as weak by anyone who might have seen him like this, but not you. You knew what he was capable of, even if no one else did. The moon might only reflect the sun’s light back upon the shadowed earth, but there were things one could only dream of that lurked in the darkness that not even the light of day could brighten. There, too, were demons veiled by the emperor’s dark side and once in a blue moon they were revealed by the light.
He was quiet now, but he breathed deeply, dragging in oxygen harshly through his nose while his cheek rested gently against your chest. He could listen to your heartbeat in this position and his lips bore a marginal smile.
“You know I love you,” Commodus whispered to you in that unassuming, hushed tone his voice took on when he was calm.
His lips found purchase on your neck again and you released a pleased sighed, “and I love you, too.”
The storm had passed.
The drought had been the worst, but the rain was over and the clouds had begun to part; Commodus was returning to himself, and after the downpour, you both would flourish again.
When he was overwhelmed, Commodus had to purge the emotions that consumed him.
“Shall we ready ourselves for bed, darling?” you posed the question as not to disrupt him; he seemed comforted by your closeness, satiated and remedied now that you were in his presence once more.
You felt him nod once, “I think that would be for the best,” he agreed, lifting his head when the sound of rain suddenly flooded into the room.
Beyond your chambers, the sky opened and rain came down from the heavens like you had anticipated might happen into the night. The gods were crying with the emperor, watering the lands of rich, fertile soil for the flowers, plants and food that would grow here.
Commodus smiled wistfully as he gazed out to watch the droplets fall to earth, “What did you mean?” he asked.
The sudden question perplexed you.
“Meant what, darling?”
“That life is a frightful dream, only sometimes,” he clarified, “implying that it is not so all of the time.”
He had turned to look at you and your heart skipped a beat. Your lover’s eyes held their usual mischievous brightness that enchanted you, sparkling like springtime and full of icy vitality. His full lips parted as he waited for your response and you had to steel your imagination against kissing him instead.
Your fingers played with the hair at the nape of his neck that had grown long enough to curl a little, “well,” you began and felt him press even closer, if that were possible, as he hung on your every word, “life does often feel like a dream to me, but not always an unpleasant one.”
“Yes,” he appeared childlike as he agreed with you, “I suppose that for all of the unpleasantness, there are still good things.”
“Like you,” you said, “us.”
Commodus expelled a brief, lighthearted chuckle, “you are right about us, my love.”
That is a good thing. We are a good thing.
You heard the admission in his voice, he did not need to say it because you felt it. It was there, in all that he did. You were enough for Commodus and you always would be, even on days when he was pulled in different directions that did not lead to you; he would always come home.
The love was present in the way he held you, kissed you, made time for you, loved you.
If only Rome knew how much you sacrificed for them -Commodus x Reader Chapter 2
(This fic was strongly inspired by the fanart of an artist Kalizofanni-art) on instagram) After the final fight against Maximus in the Colosseum, you find Commodus’ body among the corpses of those dead in the arena, he had been carelessly tossed there as if he was no one. He is alive, barely, you decide to save him. But what will happen if he survives? Will he claim back the throne? Part 1 here
You didn’t sleep that night, not until very late, you preferred to watch over the fallen emperor, praying and putting a cool wet cloth on his sweaty forehead, giving him water to drink when he needed. And to be honest, you were growing worried about your future, would you be able to put him back on the throne? You were a nobody, you had no power, you knew no one in the high spheres of the Empire; those thoughts were starting to give you a headache, you sighed, looking at the window as the first lights of the day started to appear, Commodus was still soundly sleeping, it left you time to go get something to eat for breakfast. Quietly, you left your room, meeting Attia in the kitchen, already cooking.
“I’ll help you.” You said, putting the dates in a bowl, slightly coating them with honey.
“You have a really miserable face today…did you stay up all night?” She asked as she cooked.
You nodded with a sigh “Yes, I had to make sure he would go through the night…”
“And yet you insisted he was just a friend…” she teased you playfully.
“He is. It’s just that he is very important and not just for me, but I can’t tell you yet, it is a life and death matter.”
“If you say so, we don’t want trouble, so we’ll do as if your guy wasn’t there.” She agreed, “But promise me you won’t bring problems to our door?” she still asked, you were being very mysterious about this man.
“No I won’t, nobody knows he’s here, nobody even knows he’s alive.” you replied, trying not to give her too much of a hint “Okay, I’ll go back in my room to eat with him. I will bring you all grain tonight.” If that distribution was maintained, for that you really feared. You took a smaller bowl of dates and your big slice of bread; you didn’t have enough for two slices. You headed back inside the bedroom, the man was moving, slowly waking up from his very long sleep, he opened his eyes, so what happened yesterday wasn’t a dream…he heard someone enter, you, the girl who had saved his life.
“Good morning, your highness.” You saluted him, bowing your head at him and approached, sitting on a stool next to the bed “I hope you are hungry; you have to eat to recover.” He nodded and tried to sit but winced. “Oh here, let me help you…” you put the food aside and gently lifted him to put an extra pillow behind him.
“Thank you, Y/N.” he said, his first words of the day, and you gladly welcomed them. To say he was hungry was an understatement, the second you put the food in front of him, he took it all, eagerly eating “What is next for breakfast?” he asked, his mouth full of the honey dates, it wasn’t the tastiest but it was still good.
“I’m sorry but it is all that I have…” you answered embarrassed, yes that’s the only thing you could offer him.
“All?” he looked at you, you looked hungry, why weren’t you eating? “Where is your food Y/N?” he asked inquisitively.
“You have eaten it your highness, unfortunately today we don’t have enough food for one more person.” He looked at the piece of bread left in his hand, what a damn idiot he was, he wasn’t in the palace, his people could barely eat!
“My apologies…I have been foolish. Here take it, I will make myself forgiven, my lady.” You blushed, it was the first time he called you as such, with respect, it was very flattering. “I need my healer and savior to be in shape.” He added with the shadow of a smile.
“Thank you.” You blushed and took the piece of bread from his hands, your fingers brushing against his, it made you blush even more, touching the hand of an Emperor…and he was very handsome now that you took time to detail him. You quickly looked away as he caught you staring and quietly ate your bread.
“Why are you looking at me so much?” he asked, almost on the defensive, did you pity him?
“It’s not everyday that I get the chance to be so close to the reincarnation of Hercules.” you answered shyly.
“Are you not disappointed by my sight?” he pushed, thinking he might have looked so weak for an emperor.
“Not at all, your Highness. I am quite amazed actually…but I will say no more, I wouldn’t want to offend.”
You felt his fingers gently sizing your chin, yet you could feel he could hurt you if he wanted “Tell me.” He ordered you.
“The rumors were true, you trained like a gladiator, you are of very strong constitution, like Hercules. You held the sword and yet your hands are immaculate, and soft…and you have a beautiful face that could make Apollo himself jealous ....” You told him, hoping he wouldn’t be offended by your indecency. Commodus found himself taken aback, he could see when people lied to him and you seemed honest, not answering out of fear or to flatter his ego; he huffed, he was just pleased, it was amazing how so little could warm his heart, and it made him realize how much he craved to be complimented or even to receive affection.
“The Emperor cannot allow himself to be weak, he has to be ready to defend his own people by his own hand. As for my beauty…I can only say that if I am as beautiful as you say I should go make an offering to Venus to thank her for such a gift.” He smiled, and you looked at him as you ate, he had a beautiful smile, charming and yet boyish. You and the fallen Emperor looked at each other in the eyes, for too long perhaps, why? You didn’t know, somehow it felt nice, until you started to feel your face getting red again, he retained a chuckle, you were quite adorable.
“Tell me, my lady. When do you think I should be able to stand?” he changed the subject, getting a little flustered perhaps.
“Oh well I think you could stand right now but you wouldn’t need much effort to faint. You lost a lot of blood; you need to eat well and rest to recover better for at least three to four days. And then I will free you from this house.” You smiled, almost affectionately.
“I don’t have to complain about your treatments so those few days will probably be a pleasure. Not every man has the luck to be taken care of by such a lovely woman.” He complimented you and you swore you turned as red as the flag of the Empire, he wasn’t any man, and once again he was of a rare beauty.
“You honor me, your highness.” You bowed you head at him, internally freaking out. You didn’t know how to act around this man, you respected him, sincerely; but he was so different from what most people said about him, he was kinder, more charming, friendly and gentle. Perhaps the only thing that seemed true to the rumors was a childish spirit, he had a mischievous glow in his eyes and a boyish smile. And he was attracting you…no, you had to keep that for yourself, control your feelings! He was an Emperor of pure blood! You were nothing, you didn’t stand a chance except perhaps for carnal pleasure like a whore…but you would never lower yourself to such thing, you would keep yourself for your future husband, not by tradition but romantism. You pushed yourself out of your thoughts, you shouldn’t be thinking about this man in such interested way. “I am afraid I will have to leave you for a few hours, I have objects to sell, grain to get for the household and I would like to go to the news at the forum and see if I can answer any of your interrogations…who took power, what is going to happen…” you listed, determined. You saw the young man nod in approval.
“I would appreciate it. I am anxious to know what is going on. And what is said about me…” he admitted, briefly looking down, he seemed truly afraid to be rejected and hated. You instantly got up, eager to serve him, you bowed at him once again and were about to head for the door.
“Wait. I have a question…this seems to be your bedroom, if I slept in your bed and I thank you for that; where did you sleep? Did you stay on that stool? on the floor?” he was genuinely worried, he had been raised as a gentleman and he would hate to force a young beautiful lady to sleep on the floor because of him. But you didn’t understand it that way, you thought would get angry if he knew the truth.
“My apologies, your Highness. I laid in the bed by your side…you were unconscious, and I thought I could…I won’t happen ag-…”
“Oh good and it shall remain that way, I would never make an attempt on your virtue and I am convinced you would do the same.” You looked at him dumfounded, was he suggesting that you kept sleeping by his side even when he was fully conscious?
You swallowed down “Very well your Highness, it will be done so.” You agreed and he nodded, almost bowing his head at you, meaning that now you could leave for your day. “If you have any problem, call loudly, Attia is here all day along, she is the mother of a family who shares this house with me. She will bring you lunch, and I shall see you again this evening.” You informed him as you left, taking all that you needed for your day of labor and errands.
You had barely met this man, and you didn’t know him and yet as you went on your day, he never left your thoughts, you were intrigued and getting attached, something you had never allowed yourself to do before…as you sold the different items you had found the day before, you regretfully sold his armor, unfortunately it was too obvious to be kept but you didn’t sell his rings, they were worth a fortune but…you couldn’t do it for an unknown reason and instead you kept them securely around your neck on a necklace you had since you were a child, maybe you would give it back to him. Soon came the moment you had been waiting for, grain distribution, you were a bit late and hundreds of people were already gathered, the plague had increased the famine. Thanks to your small size you managed to go to the front, pretty much unnoticed, opening your jar to fill it, you hoped to get as much as possible, you and the family of Attia needed to eat, at least bread. Soon, the crowd went silent, eagerly waiting for the grain to be distributed, there was an atmosphere of fear all around, the stomach of the People of Rome were grumbling and soon they would be filled with rage…
A man finally came, escorted by guards, he wasn’t just there to give grain, he had an announcement to make. “People of Rome! The delivery of grain to Rome is not guaranteed anymore, for this reason, we have to preserve what we have in case of rough times! Grain will now on be distributed once a week!” he announced and instantly was followed by the angry screams of the crown, everyone was already hungry, how could you survive with even less! The senators and nobles never had to suffer hunger, they even vomited to eat more like Saturn swallowing everything on its way to destruction. As expected people started fighting when they distributed the grain, trying to get more, and to your regret you had to fight too, but this was survival, you had to; as soon as your jar was filled you ran out of the angry crowd, quickly heading to the forum, the atmosphere in Rome in the coming weeks as going to be chaotic again, it had been so peaceful under both Marcus Aurelius and Commodus, and to think he was alive…could he slay his opponents and take back the throne? Save you all? Maybe…
“Listen all! Announcement from the Senate! Announcement from the Senate!” said a man who told the news as always, you had never seen so many people gathered around him. You approached, already anxious about what he was going to say “The Senate declares: By the pathetic show he gave in the Colosseum, Commodus has proven himself a coward and shameful heir of the great Marcus Aurelius! He was also a murderer who attacked the real heir chosen by his father, the great General Maximus, dead as a hero! Maximus will be given grandiose funerals like he deserves.” started the man, everyone was silent, yes the show in the arena had been very entertaining but no one had expected the Emperor to die, and many were happy of his reign unlike the elite of that city. “The sister of Commodus, Lucilla is in this instant making sure the powers are fully transferred to the Senate, Rome is to become a Republic again!” he added and earned unhappy noises from the crowd, to the people it meant chaos, the Senate serving itself, privileges and more poverty “For all the harm Commodus has caused, the Senate has declared Damnatio Memoriae over Commodus, his name will be erased from public records and monuments and his statues destroyed!” to this people gasped in surprise.
“Bullshit! I have fed my family better under his reign!” screamed a man angrily.
“He brought peace with our enemies and secured our Empire!” said another, he was treated like Nero but he wasn’t that monster! He was the worthy heir of Marcus Aurelius! More people chanted in protest and you clenched your jaw, furious as well, he didn’t deserve to be treated that way, it was obvious the Senate didn’t like Commodus and did everything possible to ruin his memory. This wasn’t going to end well, a revolt as you thought since the beginning. You shook your head, you hated this city more and more, you were even feeling sick of staying at the forum, you just wanted to go home, to him, Commodus had no power anymore and yet, the idea to be by his side comforted you.
You had probably never walked so fast, feeling the tension, anger and worry grow in the streets. You were starting to think it was better for you to leave Rome, perhaps try to get a quiet life far from this mess…soon you reached your home again, you could hear a few giggles, it seems at least the children were having a good time.
“And I showed him my sword and told him that if he disrespected me again, he shall embrace someone dying of the Plague.” You heard the voice of Commodus say, making the children laugh again.
“Yes! Mom, later I will teach respect like Aelius does!” said Titus enthusiastic, Aelius? It seemed to be the name Commodus had chosen to protect his identity. As you entered you noticed the children sitting on the bed with him, Commodus was happily smiling, he seemed to love children and Attia appreciated that he entertained them better than her own husband.
“Good evening Y/N, how was your day?” asked Attia as soon as she noticed you. You approached and gave her the jar of grain and also some fruits and a cheese you had bought with the money you got from the items you sold. “Oh that’s perfect to eat with the fish Albus brought.”
You sighed with a sad smile “Tough day, and I fear tomorrow will be too…how is Aelius?” you asked, not wanting to tell her the details yet.
“Doing well, he is a big guy and he talks in a funny way, like a noble! You got yourself a very charming man!” she smiled at Commodus who chuckled, this woman truly thought they were lovers.
“Attia!” you turned red, looking at the man, sorry for her words.
“You flatter me Attia. I would be honored if Y/N gave me such compliments.” He smiled charmingly, making you widen your eyes, really!? Could he be a charmer too!?
“Huh…can I talk to you Aelius? privately?” you retained a stutter, trying to keep your face impassive, it felt strange to talk to him as if he was a friend. He nodded, keeping on playing his role as Attia took her children away and left the room, closing the door behind you both. You took a deep breath and approached, coming to sit on the stool next to the bed.
“So, tell me everything. You don’t seem to bear good news.” He stated, coming back to seriousness, of course it couldn’t be good news, but he feared how bad they could be.
“The free grain distribution is going to be only once a week from now on…” you sighed and at those words he clicked his tongue in disapproval, his index lightly brushing on his lower lip as he thought about the reason for that decision.
“My ‘death’ and the new person to power must displease the governors and maybe even generals. They don’t trust the new person in charge so they retain the grain supply…I had a lot of support from our provinces and maybe even some would like to take the place as Emperor.” He stated and you had to agree, it actually made sense, you had heard the loyalty of the provinces was often tied to the Emperor himself and not the Empire or some other reason. “That would be a good argument for my return. What else?” he asked then, he was hoping to take back power, but it wouldn’t be so easy.
“Well…I feel very uncomfortable to tell you this but this is what they said at the forum: they publicly insulted you, saying you never were an Emperor and…” you took a deep breath, you hated to tell him such thing “They declared Damnatio memoriae on you, your Highness.” You told him, looking down in respect before looking at him to see his reaction. He was looking in front of him, in emptiness, his jaw clenched, his lower lip trembling and his eyes wet, it was a shock for him, he had done a terrible thing but he had been a good Emperor! Once again, his hopes and dreams were crushed, the Senate wanted to erase him from History, but he was going to make sure History remembers him.
“Highness?” you called him, starting to get worried.
“I am no Highness anymore, haven’t you listened?” he replied harshly, it wasn’t against you but right now he didn’t feel well at all, his heart was racing, he felt like exploding, screaming his rage to the world. “Leave. Leave me alone now!” he ordered, almost yelling at you under the emotion, making instantly jump from the stool, you understood he needed time alone, he was terrifying in that state so you hurried outside of your bedroom, closing the door behind you and leaning against it, you didn’t know what to do, the truth was violent and maybe it could never be repaired.
Suddenly, you were pushed out of your thoughts by noises from inside the bedroom, at first you didn’t know what it was until you recognized whimpers and sobbing…Commodus was crying, his heart terribly hurt. No matter how hard he tried, there was always someone to break him more. Somehow, even if you didn’t personally know that man, you felt he had a deep wound in his soul, you felt him lonely, abandoned and you couldn’t leave him like that, so you decided to face his possible wrath and enter to bring him a bit of comfort. You quietly approached as Commodus completely ignored you, perhaps too lost in his tormenting emotions, curved into a ball and hugging himself. Slowly, you placed your hand on his shoulder, showing him he wasn’t alone in that hard moment; to your surprise, he reached out to your hand, but his grip quickly got stronger and before you could react he was pulling you to him, making you fall on the bed, you gasped in surprise, but soon calmed down as he wrapped his arms around you to hug you.
“Oh Commodus…” you couldn’t help but call him by his name, you were starting to understand how much he needed that sort of gesture; so you wrapped your arms around him, gently rubbing his back and pressing him against your chest, then caressing his dark hair. You could have feared he would get mad at you for being so intimate with him but clearly he wanted your comfort.
“Please don’t stop...please…” he whimpered, nuzzling against your breast, his hands clinging to your tunic.
“By the gods Commodus...what have they done to you?” you murmured sadly, this wasn’t a man child, was a man who had been broken since his childhood.
I'm back! still only at the start of my recovery but on the right track! And writing is my best and main distraction at the moment so I hope you will enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it!
This follows the moment when Commodus learns he won't be Emperor, but it takes a slightly different turn, he is not alone this time.
It was late in the night; you had decided to take walk in the camp before heading back to your tent for the night. And you hoped for Commodus to join you, but he wasn’t there, maybe he had gone to his father. Afterall since you had left Rome, the only subject he spoke of was being the heir of his father. You smiled as you thought about it, he was so impatient, he had always been a boy full of eagerness, eager to prove himself and you knew he would make a great emperor. How bad you wished you were of noble blood and not just a maid, you would surely be his wife now; you and Commodus had always been close and years ago he had even kissed you. Still, it felt like it was yesterday, you still felt the warm pressure of his lips on yours…how much you wanted it to happen and how much both you and Commodus restrained yourselves from doing so, Marcus Aurelius and even Lucilla would disapprove.
Without realizing you passed by the emperor’s tent, but you stopped as you heard cries, ones that you knew too well…Commodus was crying. What made him so upset? You couldn’t leave him like that, even with his father. So, you entered the tent, and discreetly you approached, trying to understand what was happening before showing yourself.
“I searched the faces of the gods…for ways to please you…to make you proud…one kind word…one full hug, while you pressed me to your chest and held me tight…would have been like the Sun on my heart for a thousand years…what is this in me you hate so much?” he sobbed, his suffering was clear in the tone of his voice and you resisted the urge to run to him and comfort him, what had happened to put him in that state? You watched as his father tried to shush him, as if he didn’t want anyone else to know the pain he inflicted to his son, who had been prepared to be emperor all his life.
“All I ever wanted was to live up to you…Caesar…Father.” It was what you thought, he had chosen another heir for the Empire, how much you understood Commodus’ pain, since the start you had witnessed that tormented and lonely boy, seeking the attention and love of his father…who had been traumatized by the loss of his brothers and yet had to wear the strong mask of the heir of the Empire, educated to be the heir and yet having it taken away from him.
“Commodus.” Said Marcus Aurelius in an almost strict tone, you saw Commodus squinting his eyes shut, trying to prevent the tears from coming out of his eyes, he felt so ashamed, humiliated, he had done is best and yet failed the expectations of his father. What more did he have to do to be loved and trusted by his father!?
“Your faults as a son, is my failure as a father!” he gestured for a hug, and in that moment, you saw something change in the eyes of Commodus, growing anger, once again Marcus Aurelius referred to himself, no comfort to his son. Commodus cupped his father’s face and came into his embrace, hugging him tightly and kissing his face as he sobbed, how bad he felt, how much he craved that embrace and yet…
“I would have butchered the whole world…if you had only loved me….!” Those words broke your heart, you knew how much he loved his father. You watched as he kept crying but soon you noticed his arms around his father tightened and tightened more, the man starting to struggle against his son, his screams for help muffled against his chest, far from earshot of the guards. Commodus was letting it all out, his pain, his frustration, his anger, all his hopes had just collapsed, right in front of him…no he had nothing more to lose.
You froze, and put your hand on your mouth, shocked at that act of raw anger, should you have intervened? And then what? Be killed by Commodus? No, he would never do that… worse if he got arrested, as is servant the both of you would be condemned to torture and painful death. So, you watched the terrible event, powerless, only witness of probably the biggest secret of the Empire.
Suddenly, the arms of the emperor where left without strength, his body going limp. You understood the great Marcus Aurelius was now dead, Commodus quickly let go of him, whimpering at the realization of his act.
“Oh…father…I…” he cried, looking down at his hands, and starting to think, he had to hide what happened, otherwise he was doomed, more than he already was. He effortlessly lifted the old’s man body and went to put it in his bed, doing everything to make sure, he looked like he had died in his bed, telling his last words and wishes to his son, his heir. But panic was obvious on his face, his body language, he couldn’t stop moving around, tears in his eyes, passing a hand through his hair.
“Commodus.” You called him, deciding to step out of your hiding spot, it was a risky move considering the state he was in. But you hated to see him that way, you had to help him and to your eyes, he was the legitimate heir of his father, he deserved to be Emperor. The young man jumped in surprise, clenching his fists as if he was ready to fight.
“Y/N” he tried to keep the tone of his voice unbothered, but it was slightly shaky. How much had you seen? Were you going to scream for the guards?
You lifted your hands in the air in sign of peace “Commodus, what are you going to do?” you asked, your voice slightly trembling. He didn’t answer, as if he was coming out of his trance and quickly looked at his father and then around, panic reaching him again “Y/N I…I don’t know…I didn’t…” he murmured, his eyes full of fear, like you had seen so many times.
Once again, you couldn’t resist seeing him in that state and approached him, putting your hand on his forearm and making him jump out of anxiety. His eyes searched your face, still trying to understand what your plans were. “Commodus…I belong to you; I pledges to serve you. And above all I…care about you, a lot…I want to help you.” You said softly, slightly blushing because you never mentioned your feelings so directly.
He looked at you with a threatening gaze, he didn’t want to appear weak, not even in front of you, not in that moment, he had to try “I am your Emperor now. Take my hand Y/N, I only offer it once.” Your heart skipped a beat, he was wearing that damn mask again, even if he knew it wasn’t effective with you, you knew how he felt inside and instead what he meant by that gesture; he was pleading you to not let him go, to trust him and support him like you always had with each other.
“I would die for you Caesar.” You replied, lowering your head and took his hand, kissing his ring with fervor, you always were by his side and forever you will be. You lifted your eyes as you felt his fingers squeezing yours.
“If…” he swallowed down, unable to keep his mask on with you any longer “If you lived for me it would be even better.” He said, his mask fully breaking down and bursting into tears, and before you could react, he threw his arms around you, hugging you tightly and sobbing on your shoulder. Without hesitation you wrapped your arms around him.
“Why…why!? I did everything…I followed him on the battlefield, I was a good son! I was brave w-…when my brothers died…when I had to accompany him to war, far from home…far from you…. Wisdom, justice, fortitude, temperance…why, why was it so important?! I told him, I told him who I am, ambition, resourcefulness, courage, devotion isn’t that virtues?!” he said frantically through tears “Why couldn’t he accept me as I am!? I could have made him proud…he didn’t even give me the chance…” you blinked away the tears in your eyes, all his life he had asked you those questions, trying to fit his father’s expectations, hiding himself, being alone.
“Hush Commodus.” You murmured, gently lulling him against you, your hands tracing circles on his back; you glanced at the dead emperor, he looked like he was sleeping, he had truly ignored how much Commodus suffered, instead he had grown attached to another man, that general Maximus…who had been like a brother to Commodus, a true stab in the back. “You have been the best you could-”
“But I wasn’t enough!” his yelling was muffled against your shoulder, his hands gripping your dress.
“Commodus, you have been the best. Any father would be proud of who you are…”
“But mine wasn’t! I don’t care about the others; I just want him…to be proud of me...” he sobbed again.
“Now, the only thing you have to do is prove him wrong, prove all of them that they are wrong. From his divine seat and to the gods, you will show your father you were worthy.” You murmured, trying your best to sooth his pain. The young Emperor whimpered, burying more in your embrace, his whole body trembling.
You held him in your arms for long minutes, letting him grieve his father, letting him vent all the pain he had inside. As he cried, you made sure no one came in to check on the former Emperor. You would keep this heavy secret for Commodus. Perhaps you were blinded by your love for him, but you will not leave him anymore. Maybe this was your chance for you and Commodus to be united after years of having to pretend like you didn’t care for each other.
“Commodus…come with me.” You whispered, gently massaging his scalp. The new emperor didn’t have the strength to protest, shocked over the decision of his father and of his own actions, it all felt like a bad dream. So, he followed you as you guided him to the bathing area of his dead father. You made him sit on his father’s chair and took a basin of fresh water and a clean cloth, kneeling in front of him to freshen up his face. You detailed his features, a light smile forming on your lips, you always found him incredibly handsome, much more than General Maximus who made all women crazy. Commodus’ traits were more delicate, a reflection of his inner turmoil and sensitivity, his soft lips that had kissed you once, the scar on his upper lip, a reflection of his wounded soul; his deep clear eyes which always seemed to be teary and yet which could bear the most frightening gaze. He equally detailed you as you dampened his face, never he had looked at a woman like he looked at you, not even his sister, softly and yet puzzled as if he couldn’t understand why he had such a beautiful and caring creature in front of his eyes.
“Why are you helping me?” he asked in a murmur, yet he was almost defensive.
“Because I vowed to loyally serve you.” You answered, briefly pausing from the cleaning.
“It can’t be just that. You are risking a lot. You could be rewarded actually if you denunciate me.” He said, his look inquisitive; he had learned that in the high sphere of Rome, he could trust no one, not even the slaves. You briefly looked down, a light blush covering your cheeks.
“Because I have a deep affection for you Commodus, I always had. And it only became stronger since that time when you kissed me.” You answered sincerely, not daring to look at him in the eyes, once again, you had never explicitly told your feelings for each other. After long seconds of silence, you felt the tip of his fingers on your chin, delicately lifting it to meet your eyes. His gaze had become soft again, full of pain and broken hopes.
“Then you must know I feel the same as you do. I did kiss you, not out of carnal desire but out of love, and I would do it again.” He said, taking your hand and fondly kissing it, your heart skipped a beat at his words but then what to do?
“Commodus you can’t…”
“I can’t what? Tell you that I reciprocate your feelings? That for years I wished to ask for your hand? No, I am Emperor now and I get to decide. My father won’t oppose me anymore and my sister owes me respect. I shall love you as I always wanted.” He replied fiercely, your saw in his eyes that passion, that ambition he always had and that you loved.
“But that can’t be the first decision you will take as the Emperor of Rome. I shall wait for you and remain by your side as always.” Your words brought him back to reality, you were right. Despite being a nobody to the eyes of all, in the shadows you had learned and observed how the ruling of the Empire worked. He remained silent for a minute, letting you take the necessary to shave him.
“The new Emperor has to make a good first impression. Therefore, you must be well shaven, dea- sorry.” You blushed as you almost called him by an affectionate name. It made him smile, his first genuine smile in a few days.
“When we are alone, you can call me as you wish Y/N.” he reassured you, titling his head to help you shave him. Carefully, you placed your fingers under his chin as a support as your other hand let the blade slide along his cheek, it had a been much time since you had been so close to him, you felt his pulse increase under your touch even though his facial expression remained the neutral. “And thank you. For…shaving me. You are right, the Emperor has to look perfect, even late in the night.” He answered, he wasn’t yet understanding the severity of the situation, it all felt unreal. He looked down at his hands, they had affectionately held his father and killed him, maybe he was much worse, maybe his father was right not to choose him as his heir. “You know about father’s list of virtues. And you know I don’t have any of them. Is it so important to be worthy to rule Rome?” he asked, now looking at you, needing advice, and perhaps to be reassured.
You remained silent at first, thinking about those virtues and those of the young Emperor. “No, it is not. Your virtues will make you accomplish great things Commodus. Your ambition will push you to do everything you can to make the People’s dream come true. And with your resourcefulness you will find new ways to keep the Empire in its golden age, no matter what enemies you might face, you will fight them, you will fight for the people and not to please the Senate. Finally, you will restore what the People always wanted, an Emperor who takes care of them. You are ready to accomplish your duty for Rome.” You said, not being able to hold back your passion and your love for him. You blushed when you met his gaze, had you been foolish? But a smile slowly formed on his lips, tender and amused.
“You know, I always loved you Y/N and for many reasons, but they forbade us, not just because of social hierarchy but because they are afraid of the power of our love, of what we could accomplish together. With your love I am invincible.” he looked at you fondly and slightly tilted his head to press his lips against yours. You retained a gasp at the feeling, how much you had dreamt it and yet it was happening again, when you thought it would never be a reality. You closed your eyes and cupped his cheek as he passionately wrapped his arms around your waist, smiling against your lips, he felt hope rise in his heart again, maybe he could make it all right!
“Let’s show Rome what a wonderful Emperor you will be.” You murmured, happily smiling, after all, maybe this was your chance for a new start, both for a slave and a new Emperor.
