The screech of the Hawk pierced through the air, snapping the mourners out of their meditative state on the burning pyre. Aemma raised her purple eyes to the sky, narrowing as she tracked the bird circling the camp before landing and perching on one of the Knights of the Vale. Exhaling through her nose to control her temper, she took hold of Benjicot’s hand and led them towards the knight.
Glancing at the bowing knights, Aemma removed her red veil to show her guarded face. “Ser, is this hawk yours? If so, it was pretty rude to interrupt a royal’s funeral,” she questioned.
The knight gulped at the princess’s words, glancing at Benjicot, who raised an unamused brow to the knight. With a dry mouth, the knight raised the small paper the hawk brought.
“This hawk belongs to Lady Jeyne. She usually sends them when she wants a letter to be sent fast… My lady has sent news from the Vale,” he stammered, not wanting to be burned by the princess. He shakily gave the letter to the princess, bowing, before shuffling back to a safe distance.
Aemma opened the letter, her eyes grazing the words, growing anxious about the news her cousin of the Vale brought.
The letter stated: “My princess, although I will not risk the ire of my queen, I felt obliged as her potential heir to let you know that your mother has commanded that the rest of your family be sent back to Kingslanding. I do not know what has caused your mother, my queen, to command such a risky move, but who am I to contradict her? We will be arriving at Harrenhal in two days. We shall speak more once we arrive.”
Your loyal servant,
Lady Jeyne Arryn of House Arryn of the Vale.
Aemma inhaled sharply, her mother commanded her siblings to be brought to Kingslanding, and in turn, her son. She has not received any news of Kingslanding being re-conquered yet. Even more, her son belongs with her, not in Kingslanding. What was her mother planning? Did her grandmother and council agree? Or was this a ploy from the White Wyrm?
Turning away from the knights, she watched as the last of the flames died down, her father’s body joining her ancestors. Looking at a servant, she motioned for them to come forward towards her.
“If you can, find a pot with a lid, please place the ashes in there. I wish to place my father’s ashes on our ancestral home,” she lightly commanded, giving the servant a small smile.
“Yes, my princess,” answered the servant, bowing her head and walking off.
Aemma sighed, turning. She smiled weakly at her husband, watching as Benjicot read the letter from the Lady of House Arryn.
Tsking Benjicot rose his eyes to meet his wife’s, furrowing his brows in confusion. He would never blatantly criticize his good mother and queen, but he did not understand the reason for bringing the most vulnerable of the family to Kingslanding. In his opinion, it was still too unstable, too risky for the young ones to be there, as Aegon’s supporters were still close by. Putting them in potential danger.
As if she read his mind, Aemma kissed Benjcot’s cheek, “I too do not understand my mother’s decision, come let us talk with Cregan and Alysanne on a plan on how we can keep the children with us. I believe the White Wyrm is still whispering poisons into my mother’s ears.”
Taking his wife’s hand and leading her to the most enormous tent, he agreed with her, “That Lady Misery is proving to be a thorn in our family’s side.”
Aemma hummed in agreement as they walked into the tent, and as she sat on a chair, she noticed her father’s urn had been placed there already. Bittersweetly, she looked at the vessel that would hold her father, her heart heavy knowing that Daemon died thinking her mother hated him.
Her thoughts were interrupted as Cregan, Alysane, and a few lords of the riverlands came in and each took a seat around the make-shift war table.
Straightening herself, she allowed herself to become stoic and pristine, to show off the strength of her houses.
“My lords and ladies, thank you for coming. A letter recently arrived from the Vale, news that the queen is going to take back Kingslanding and has requested the rest of my family to join her. However, I disagree with these decisions as I believe it is a dangerous action; Kingslanding is still too unstable for the youngest of my family to join her. I am planning to travel and help take back the throne, but also convince my queen to keep my siblings away from the conflict until we can assure Aegon is dead, and that the greens’ faction is fully halted.”
The Riverlords and of the Vale and North all nodded, agreeing with the princess’s assessment of the situation.
Cregan leaned in with gray eyes staring into violet, “Do you think she will agree to you keeping her youngest away from her? She seems dead set in her decisions, and if I may, Aemma, while she is your mother, she is foremost your queen,” he questioned.
Aemma thought for a moment, her head leaning to the side, taking note of Cregan’s concern, “I believe I can convince her, at least for Jaesys and Joffrey. I can use the fact that they are technically heirs to the Vale and Raventree Hall, so it would be unwise to keep them in Maegor’s Holdfast. I may have trouble with Aegon and Viserys, but if I play my cards right, she will listen.”
Alysanne nodded, “Where will Jaesys and Prince Joffrey take refuge, as we originally sent little Jaesys away to the Vale for the reason that the camp was also at risk?”
Benjicot turned to his aunt, biting his lip as he pleaded, “I was hoping, Lady Aunt, that you could go back to our homeland and take the two young princes with you. A wall is being built to separate Bracken lands from ours, and with two dragons, one grown and the other juvenile, the Brackens would be foolish to try anything.”
Alysanne frowned at her nephew. He was asking her to give up her spot in the war council to play nanny; she was no septa. She was a proud woman on House Blackwood, one of the few houses south of the North that still practiced the ways of the First men and followed the old gods.
Cregan looked at his beloved and saw her anger brewing. He understood her, but he also understood the privilege of keeping the rest of the royal family safe.
“How about we think about the safest options for the princes and Princess Rhaena later, and think about our following options.” He spoke, leading the conversation elsewhere.
In the Crownlands, the air seemed eerie. Alicent walked through the castle with anxious feelings. There has been no word from Aemond, not a word. Aegon and Maelor were still missing, and Heleana’s health had been deteriorating, locking herself in the Queen’s chambers. Alicent prayed to the seven that Rhaenyra could finally see sense, to see that she was not meant to be Queen, that women were to obey, and that Viserys spoke for Aegon, her son. As she walked through the halls of the castle, little Princess Jaehaera followed her grandmother; she was always forced to accompany her to the castle septs and spent the first hours of the day praying for her uncle, her father, and her little brother. She didn’t know what use prayer was, but she knew better than to voice her opinions; ladies were supposed to be silent and obedient, not be heard. Walking past a window, she paused, hearing what she thought was thunder and rumbling, but the sound was a bit different. Turning, she gasped at seeing two dragons, a golden one and a large brown one, with ships and soldiers holding blue and red at the horizon. Alicent too turned and paled; it was Rhaenyra. She had finally come for them.
Rhaenyra and Rhaenys inhaled as their dragons started closer to Kingslanding; they knew by the end of the day, it would fall back to them. Although Rhaneys was proud to support her queen, she worried about the mental state of Rhaenyra; she was becoming paranoid, accusing people of wanting to betray her, as her accusations had started with Daemon, Nettles, and even her own husband. If it were not for Baela's quick comfort, she feared how Rheanyra would have treated Corlys. She loved her husband, but he was a proud man, and if Rhaenyra had voiced her paranoia, he would have all but left and possibly pushed for Aemma to be crowned. Rhaenys exhaled, knowing she needs to be a strong anchor for the Queen, and Aemma will likely come to Kingslanding and support her mother. Seeing the Queen raise her hand, Rhaenys prepared for the attack.
Further away, Aegon grunted, being awoken from a jolt, letting him know that the carriage that was carrying him had stopped. Looking out, he saw that he was at a port, with House Massey colors flying in the air. He was close to Dragonstone. Close to ridding himself of his bitch of a half-sister. Larys limped to help his king hobble out of the carriage, hoping they could quickly board a boat before anyone could spot them. Seeing a second carriage, he sighed in relief, Prince Maelor arrived safely. The little boy all but ran towards the two men, wanting to hug his father, but was stopped by Larys.
“I apologize, little prince, but your father is still recovering from his injuries,” explained Larys as he moved Maelor away from Aegon.
The little prince looked at Lord Strong with confusion, and before he could look at his father, his hood slipped off, making his white hair apparent to the world.
“Oh, isn’t that the prince they are looking for!” someone shouted from a boat.
Larys and Aegon froze as more and more people walked closer, some curious, others angry, and others with a hungry look.
“I bet Rhaenyra or the greens would pay a pretty penny for them; we should take them.”
“Kill them, it's their fault we are in a war and are starving!”
Maelor whimpered as he pressed himself closer to his father; the crowd terrified him. Larys nervously looked around, finding the boat that was supposed to take them to safety behind the crowd, his body growing cold as he saw the captain nervously preparing to sail away. They needed to reach that boat before it left the docks.
As the crowd approached, they began to pull the men and the child, tugging and shouting. Maelor pressed himself onto his father, screaming as people pulled and pulled. Aegon paled, thinking that he and his son were going to die at the hands of smallfolk. As the tensions continued to grow, they heard a weak dragon's shrill. Everyone paused and stared at the sky. There was Sunfyre, tiredly flying to help his rider. People screamed and ran away. Even if the Dragon was injured, it could still do damage. There was an opportunity for the three fugitives to run. As Larys and Aegon hobble towards the boat, bumping into people, they run as fast as they could to the ship. Throwing themselves, they reach the boat on time as the crew quickly lifted the ramp to sail away.
“It seems the gods are in your favor, your grace. Just keep that beast in control; we don’t want to risk the ire of the dragons in Dragonstone,” sneered the captain of the boat, looking down at the crippled king. Raising his head, the captain narrowed his eyes and looked around the ship. “Where’s the dragonling?”
Aegon sharply inhaled as he searched for his son. Larys frantically looked around, dread filling him as they both realized Maelor was missing.
Back at the dock, Maelor was hiding under boxes as he cried, his whole body shaking as he saw the ship and Sunfyre sailing further away. He wanted his Muna, he wanted his sister, he wanted to be home. Sniffling, he whimpered when he saw boots stop infront of his hiding place. The owner of the shoes knelt, and Maelor gasped. A beautiful woman with violet-blue eyes and white hair smiled at him.
“You sure made a lot of commotion, little dragon. Although it seems you were left behind,” whispered the woman, stretching her hand towards him.
Maelor stared at the kind woman, someone who looked like his mother, yet was different at the same time. Still terrified of the people of the docks, he pushed himself further back.
“I won’t hurt you, you are a child, what faults your Aunt or father have is not connected with you,” she soothed patiently, waiting for the prince to come on his own.
“Kepa, he left, he left me…I want to go home,” he whispered tearfully.
The Lyseni woman snorted, “Your Valyrian is atrocious, little one. I can’t take you home, but I can take you to a place that will keep you safe and happy. A place where you can play and eat all the sweets you want. Do you want to come with me?”
Maelor stared. Although he wanted to go back home, a place where he could play and eat sweets, something his grandmother never allowed him, she was always strict. It tempted him.
He shyly asked, “No one will make me take boring lessons or yell at me?”
The woman’s gaze softened, “No, little one, no one will yell at you, you can just be a little boy…so what do you think, want to join me?”
Maleor nodded, crawling out of his hiding spot and raising his hands to be picked up. The nice Lyseni woman chuckled as she raised the young boy in her arms, walking back to her own ship, headed for Lys. She wondered if her grandmother, infamous Princess Saera, would be upset with the new family addition.
Wails turned to sniffs as Aemma held her father, hoping his eyes would open but knowing they would never will. Had she not suffered enough, she thought, why was her family constantly losing beloved members while the greens barely had one nefarious member pass? She would gladly switch little Jaehaerys for Aegon, Otto, Cole, and even the green witch Alicent. They only cause panic, pain, and imbalance in the realm. So why were gods so cruel to her family?
Benjicot could only hold onto his wife, letting her grieve in humid, damp Riverlands, understanding the pain of losing a loved one due to this war. Losing your father, the man who always swore he would be there to see you grow up, taken away from you by your enemy. By people who thought they were better than you in their selfishness.
Turning, Ben looked at his soldiers, “I need two men to take the King Consort to his chambers and ask the Silent Sister to come and prep for his funeral pyre.”
As Benjicot spoke the words, Aemma dry heaved as she held her father tighter, not wanting to allow the Blackwood men to take his body. Ben sighed, seeing his wife. He gently grabbed her arms to pry them away from Daemon’s body as he tried to comfort her.
“Sweet girl, please, we need to allow his spirit to enter your ancestors' realm. Let him be greeted by your brothers, Laenor, and stepmother, Lady Laena.” He whispered in her ear as she shook her head.
“No, please, Ben, please, he’s my Kepa…” Aemma countered, her purple eyes rimmed with redness from her sobbing as she pleaded with Benjicot.
Side-glancing, Benijcot nodded for his men to take Daemon as he carried his wife, walking away from the crowd. He gently kissed her forehead. His grip grew tighter as she tried to push away from his hold.
“My love, please don’t fight me in this. I know your heart is breaking, but we need to give his funeral rites; he deserves to go in the highest honor.” he gently explained as they entered their tent and placed her on their makeshift marriage bed.
Aemma allowed herself to sink into the sheets as she buried her face in her pillows and continued to cry, all her pent emotions from the deaths of Laenor, Aunt Laena, Viserys, Visenya, Luke, and Jace finally bursting from the cage she had in her heart. Making Benjicot furrowed his brows before shedding his cloak and upper clothing, leaving him in his underclothes, and lay next to Aemma as he gathered her again in his arms, nuzzling her hair and letting his beautiful, kind, protective dragon princess cry her pain away.
The princess finally tired herself out from sheer exhaustion. Falling into a deep sleep. Benjicot rose from the bed, looking down at her. Seeing her swollen eyes, tear-streak cheeks, and permanent pout made Ben’s heart squeeze with grief. Leaning down, he placed a tender kiss on her lips.
“I love you, sweet girl,” He whispered to his princess’s lips, rising and walking to the washroom, wanting to wash off the mud and the blood from his good father.
As he placed himself in the tub, his walls finally broke down. Trying to hold in his gut-wrenching heaving, he did his best to clean himself with his vision blurred. Memories of his father and twin came back to him. Daemon, in his short time, wedged himself into Benjicot’s heart. The King Consort had the same roughness but familial kindness as his twin, Davos.
“Fuck…” Ben whispered while he gasped, trying to steady his cries. He did not want to wake Aemma.
His anguish then became anger towards Aemond for causing Aemma’s biggest heartaches. Anger towards the Brakens for declaring for the Green’s Fat Whoremonger Cunt of a false king and taking his brother and father away. Anger towards the Hightower pretenders, who stole his good-mother’s crown and caused this idiotic war. Scrubbing his body raw, Benjioct hoped he’d get to see Aegon the Ursper; that way, he could fulfill the promise of cutting Aegon’s belly open and making him feel an ounce of pain he had inflicted his family.
Stepping out of the tub, he put on his trousers and returned to his room to find his aunt sitting beside Aemma, staring at the princess.
“Aly…” Benjicot whispered, watching Alysanne Blackwood raise her eyes to him, giving him a tearful smile.
“She needs to bathe… she’s covered in her father’s blood.” was the only thing she responded with.
Ben shook his head, walking towards the bed and taking a seat behind Aemma, watching her eyelashes flutter in her sleep, “No, let her sleep; she will need her strength for the funeral…” he whispered to his aunt.
Alysanne turned to face her nephew; his eyes were also rimmed with red, and his nose was pink. Seeing him made her realize how young the princess and her nephew are. How fast they had to grow up and conceive an heir. How they had to be placed as Heirs and Lords of their houses, with the weight of the war and being new parents pressed on them. Rising from her seat, she stood in infront of her nephew, taking his face in her hands.
Benjicot looked up at his aunt’s gray eyes, seeing something swirl in her eyes: sadness, sympathy, or was it understanding? In contrast, Alysanne inhaled sharply, staring at Benjioct; he looked even younger… showing his age; Benjicot would turn 18 name days in 5 moons. Which meant Princess Aemma was only 17 name days. They barely were of age, thrown into this cruel world of Game of Thrones. Oh, her sweet nephew, she thought as she kissed his forehead.
“Call for me once the princess awakes; I will help her prepare for the funeral. I will be with Cregan..” Alysanne whispered as she stepped back.
Benjicot opened his previously closed eyes, and with a stuttering breath, he asked, “How is Cregan with you? I have not had the chance to speak about your courtship with Lord Stark. Does he… Does he know about you and Sabitha Frey?”
Alyanna sniffed as she raised her head momentarily, remembering the woman that is Sabitha, “Yes… he understands what she was to me and how nothing can ever come from it…. Respected it… He’s a good man.”
Benjioct nodded, a small smile coming forth his face as he felt Aemma move in her sleep, with a soft whimper escaping her lips. Caressing his beloved princess's cheek, he answered his lady aunt.
“I’m glad… but are you sure about Cregan? I have nothing against him, but I am not pressuring you to marry just yet… Aemma and I will gladly have you stay at Raventree Hall.” assured Benjioct, giving his aunt a crooked smile.
“I’m sure Ben, he’s a good man; he isn’t like the men of the south…I cannot imagine any other lord but him,” responded Alysanne, returning her nephew the famous Blackwood crooked smile that their house was known for.
Benjicot nodded as he watched Alysanne walk out of his tent. Sighing, he looked back down, surprised to see Aemma awake. Although, he would have preferred for her to be asleep. While awake, she stared ahead, her eyes unfocused and dull. He hated that; her beautiful purple were always meant to shine like amethyst under the sun. Not this dull, without happiness, look to them. Lying behind her, he kissed her cheek, looking for any reaction; when none came, he gently placed his cheek on top of hers. Allowing and hoping his presence could provide some comfort.
Aemma gently closed her eyes again, feeling her raven lord’s body on top of her. It did provide comfort, but it wasn’t enough. She wanted her babe, her little boy; she needed an anchor in the madness, and her baby was far away in the Vale.
As she concentrated on Benjicot’s breathing, which started to even out, she again was lulled into the realm of dreams. Soon, she was greeted with a sight, a Castle that looked similar to Dragonstone but not quiet; it wasn’t dreary or cloudy. It was full of sunshine, the castle was whiteish, and more dragons were flying in the sky. Walking on the beach shore, she saw a group in the distance. Raising her hand to block the sun from her eyes, she gasped, her eyes widening.
There was her family, Aunt Laena, Jacaerys, Lucerys, Her grandmothers Alyssa and Aemma, grandfathers Viserys and Baleon, little Visenya and her fathers, Laenor and Daemon. As the group turned to the princess, Luke smiled at his older sister.
“Mandia !” Shouted Lucerys as he ran to greet his beloved sister, the other half of the moniker of the twin Pearls.
Aemma’s eyes welled with tears as she ran towards her younger brother.
“Lucerys…Luke! Oh Luke…” Aemma cried as she all but crashed into her brother, gripping him in a deadly grip as both siblings cried and held each other.
As the siblings, known as the Pearls of the Realm, continued to cry in each other’s arms, another body soon bombarded them; Prince Jacaerys bear-hugged his siblings, kissing Aemma’s crown. At the same time, the rest of the group walked to meet up with the young sea dragon siblings. All tears flowed freely.
Jacaerys cradled his sister’s face in his hand, tears flowing down his face, “Hāedar…oh hāedar, I’m sorry, I’m sorry I broke my promise. I wanted to come back..I -”
It’s okay… it’s okay, Jace…I know,” Aemma comforted, nuzzling her cheek to her brother’s hands. Her eyes shone bright with love.
Jace tearfully smiled as he kissed her cheek, Raising Luke and Aemma to their feet, “Come, I want you to meet a few people.”
Turning, Aemma cried, seeing her fathers smiling at their little girl. Laenor walked forward first, walking to his pearl.
“Papa!” cried Aemma as she threw herself into her birth father’s arms. Laenor sobbed, holding her.
“Oh, ñuha prūmia, How have I missed you so much… You have grown so much, my sea dragon; you are a mother!” Exclaimed Laenor as he stepped back to look at her from a distance.
Aemma smiled as she nodded; her father had missed so much since he left. She wasn’t the little girl who spent hours flying in the sky with him.
“Yes, my boy Jaesys…he has claimed Seasmoke…I hope you are alright with that?” questioned Aemma, biting her lip.
“How can I not be! My grandson is a dragon rider to my Seasmoke. My boy deserved more time with me; I felt terrible leaving him behind. But I rest assured that Seasmoke has bonded with Jaesys.” assured Laenor. His amethyst eyes were like his daughter's, bright with joy.
“Alright, Moved it, Laenor. I wish to see my niece too. I have also missed her, and her grandparents wish to see her.” Butted Laena, pushing Laenor away as she hugged Aemma.
“I have missed you too; Velma, Baela, and Rhaena have as well.” Aemma greeted her aunt, watching as Laena released a shuttering breath at the mention of her girls.
“My girls… tell Aemma that I am always near them and they are the best of me…You will tell them yes?” Laena pleaded as she played with her niece’s curls.
Aemma nodded, smiling at her aunt, “Of course, I will tell them...”
Stepping back, Aemma gasped; her grandparents, Princess Alyssa, and her namesake, Queen Aemma, smiled at their granddaughter. At the same time, Prince Baelon and King Visers shed tears at seeing her.
As Aemma tried to curtesy, her grandmother Queen Aemma shook her head. “No, little one, there is no need to bow. I never forced my Rheanyra. It shall be the same for you. I am honored that my sweet girl named her daughter after me… I left her too soon in her life.”
“She always spoke of you… and Daemon also spoke of you, grandmother Alyssa. Explained Aemma, watching as Alyssa laughed with delight.
“Oh my boy, I always wanted to give Baleon a daughter. I’m happy to see Daemon always cherished his daughters,” replied Alyssa as she hugged Aemma.
Once Alyssa released her, Prince Baleon walked forward, “You remind me so much of your mother; I loved my few years with her.” Baleon kissed her cheek as he looked at Viserys.
Aemma's smile faded upon seeing her grandsire Viserys; she felt conflicted. She missed him terribly, but the war started partially because of him.
“Grandsire…” whispered Aemma as Viserys shed tears, taking his grandaughter's hand and kissing it.
“My sweet Aemma, I’m sorry truly…I…”
“Please don’t… I.. do not wish to speak about them…” she pleaded.
Viserys nodded, “Please… don’t give up on your mother…you are her rock, you have always been her rock… fight for her…” he pleaded as Aemma nodded; she would fight.
Lastly, Aemma turned to the one that tore her heart in two. Daemon stood infront of his hatchling, holding baby Visenya, as the little princess cooed at her older sister.
Whimpering, Aemma tried not to cry as she stared at her Kepa and hāedar. Daemon reached out, calling for Aemma to come closer, which the young woman did. He brought Visenya up and placed her into Aemma’s arms before he engulfed his sea dragon. Aemma began to sob, her body shaking as she leaned into her father’s hold.
“My sweet dragon, you have been so brave… now that I am proud of you…” Daemon reassured as he swayed his daughter, kissing her crown.
“You left me… you… you promised that you would never leave us… you broke your promise…” Aemma whispered.
“No!... I have not left you… none of us have left you. We are all with you and our family. We are not physically there, but I will never abandon you.” countered Daemon, raising his daughter's chin and kissing her forehead.
Shuttered, Aemma closed her eyes, “I don’t know if I can continue in this war… I don’t know if I can be Muna’s heir…” she confessed.
Daemon shook his head, grabbing her shoulders. He spoke while staring into her eyes, “You can and are… you are Aemma Velayron of Houses Velayron and Targaryen. Dragon Blood flows in you; Old Valyria resides in you. You are a dragon raised by many dragon riders. My brother’s Half-breeds are no match for you because you are a dragon. You will make our house stand tall. Remember, you are Fire and Blood. Say it, Aemma.”
“Fire and Blood, I am Fire and Blood, I will bring Fire and Blood. I am a dragon.” chanted Aemma, feeling the spark ignite in her. She will not give up. Not until Aegon and the Hightowers paid for all the pain they inflicted in the Realm.
Laenor nodded to Daemon’s side, “Fire and Blood, and never forget it, Aemma.”
Aemma nodded, kissing Visenya’s head before putting her again into Daemon’s arms. She turned, seeing Jacerys and Lucerys extending their hands to her. Grabbing them both, the three dragons walked back to the shoreline.
Feeling that she was waking up, Aemma turned to Lucerys, hugging him with all her might. “I love you, sweet boy,” she whispered.
“And I, you, Aemma, Tell Muna I never blamed her. I died for her and would do it repeatedly,” replied Luke.
Nodding, Aemma turned to Jace, giving a bittersweet smile to her older brother. Jace returned a smile.
Jace played with Aemma’s curls as he pleaded, “Tell Ben, thank you for loving you… honoring me with your son. Jaesys will bring greatness to both your house; I know it…. Tell Baela… tell her that I love her, I will always love her. I will always be there for her and our daughter…”
Aemma gasped; daughter, Baela, and Jace’s child would be a little girl.
“Tell her also… she can still love me and open her heart to someone else… Allow herself to love someone else. He will be faithful to her and our daughter. He will love her like she was his own. Tell her, please, Aemma, she deserves to be loved.”
Aemma agreed, “Yes, I will, Jace…I promise… I love you both.” She said, hugging her brothers once more before they faded away. She returned to the Realm of the living.
Waking up, she felt Ben shake her shoulders.
Benjicot rubbed his wife’s back, seeing her starting to wake, “Love, you need to wake up. We need to do the funeral.” he pleaded, hoping she would not fight.
Aemma sighed; the ache in her heart was still there but not as deep as last night. Rising, she smiled briefly at her husband. Reaching to place her hand on his cheek, she leaned to kiss his lips. Ben returned the kiss before he nuzzled her neck, breathing in her scent.
After comforting each other, they slowly separated, “The bath is ready for you, Aemma. Do you need anything before I bring Aly?” Ben questioned.
“Can you ask Alysanne if she can find any red veil? A sheer one.” Aemma responded, walking to her chest of clothes and pulling out a black silk dress with golden accents.
Benjicot nodded, moving to leave before feeling Aemma grab his hand; turning back, he raised a questioning brow.
Walking to him, Aemma kissed his cheek and whispered, “Jace, thanks you for honoring him and loving me.”
Benjicot inhaled as he stared at her in shock; she, too, dreamt of her family as he did. Smiling, his gaze softened as he gathered her in his arms, kissing her passionately.
Aemma smiled in the kiss, looping her arms around his neck.
Leaning away, Ben placed his forehead on hers, staring into her eyes, Gray into purple, “I loved the minute I met you, and I continue to fall more in love with you each passing day, Aemma.
Smiling, she nuzzled his cheek as she responded, “I am the same; I knew you were meant to be mine the minute I saw you come to Sliverwing.”
Walking away, Aemma entered her tub as she heard Ben leaving to bring his aunt and a red veil.
After a quick wash, the dragon princess dressed herself in black, placing her hair into a loose half-up and down Valyrian braided look. She sighed as she waited for Alysanne and Bejicot to return, which thankfully was not long.
Coming in, Alyssane carried the veil as she expressed condolences, nodding. Aemma stood, hugging Alysanne in gratitude.
“Thank you, Aly. Can you help me place the veil on my head?” Aemma requested.
As the two maneuvered the red fabric, Benjicot noticed he had seen how Aemma had placed her veil before in the few books his maester could find about Old Valyria. Dragon riding women wore sheer red veils blocking most faces in an upside V shape that only allowed the nose and mouth to be shown. After securing the veil, Aemma searched for the tiara Daemon gifted her the first year he married her mother. Feeling ready, she commanded the Blackwood duo to follow as they reached the hill where Daemon's pyre was held.
The camp stared in awe at the visual, Princess Aemma regal in red and black, while Alysanne and Benjicot flocked her. As Cregan moved forward to begin his speech, Aemma stared forward, looking at her father. Promising that the greens would pay, Alicent will taste the bitterness of losing everything she holds dear. For she and Aegon were towers and towers burn under dragon fire.
As Cregan finished his speech, Aemma nodded to the Lord of Winterfell, walking forward and glancing at her beloved dragon. Sliverwing cocked her head to the side, letting out a soft shrill as she waited for her mount’s command. Exhaling, Aemma turned back to her father, taking a deep breath as she commanded her dragon.
“Dracarys Sliverwing,” Aemma commanded, watching her dragon breathe fire and light the pyre.
Benjicot walked forward, taking hold of his wife’s hand, and looked up in the sky, his eyes narrowing at a hawk bird that flew close by.
Staring at the flames, Aemma whispered, “They shall know Fire and Blood, I swear it to you, Kepa, as a Hawks screech echoed in the background.
The Dragon and The Raven Chapter 17: The Rogue Prince
Chapter Summary: Traitors are announced, and the battle above the god's eye is about to commence. How will Aemma and Benjicot overcome this obstacle...
tags: Short NSFW scene, angst, and mentions of a miscarriage
Masterlist
In Harrenhal, Benjioct and King Consort Daemon were finalizing the battle strategy to meet and defeat the kinslayer.
“Right. Once Vhagar is in sight, I want every archer to follow Lady Alysanne Blackwood’s lead in firing arrows at the she-dragon. Of course, this is not meant to harm, for dragon skin is too thick for a simple arrow, but it would provide a clear distraction and cover for Caraxes…. And should I need Sliverwing to have the upper hand.” explained Daemon, smirking as he watched every lord wholeheartedly agree to the plan.
Benijoct nodded, agreeing with his good father when he turned his head. Since unlocking the potential of warging, his senses have been enhanced. As such, he thought he heard the leather-like flaps of dragon wings in the distance. Turning back, he saw that Daemon, too, was listening to the noise coming from afar. All of a sudden screams from the camps made the council freeze.
“Dragons!” shouted a few men as many ran from the two grey-looking dragons soaring across the sky around the camp. Benjicot stood and quickly ran out, looking to see his wife’s dragon lowering to the ground. While the dragon he recognized as Grey Ghost landed farther down. Furrowing his brows, he saw the two Valeyron twins climbing down the grey beast. Ben quickly mounted his horse and rode to meet and greet the new arrivals.
As Aemma climbed down her dragon, she caressed one of Slivewing’s wings before stepping back and acknowledging Alyn and Addam walking towards her.
“Uncles… What brings you to Harrenhal? Is everything alright in Dragonstone?” questioned Aemma, her purple eyes filled with worry.
Addam smiled at his niece, trying to ease her worry, but in truth, he was anxious about how Princess Aemma and King Consort Daemon would take the news of the Queen accusing Daemon of having an affair. Also, the fact that they have now lost an ally and dragon to fight against the greens. Before either twin could speak, They were greeted by Benjicot Blackwood.
“You dragon riders sure know how to cause a stir among us regular folk.” Ben lightly taunted as he scooped Aemma in his arms. The princess giggled in delight, pressing a kiss to the corners of her husband’s mouth.
“Our men need to get used to it; we cannot have them screaming every time they see my Sliver lady or Seasmoke.” Aemma rebuttal, laughing as Ben rolled his eyes playfully.
“Good Morrow, Lord Blackwood…” greeted Alyn Velayron, feeling out of space between the princess, her husband, and his twin.
Ben nodded in greeting as he led the three Velayrons back to the main camp tent, where Prince Daemon and the war council were waiting for them.
Daemon smiled at seeing his daughter in one piece while raising a questioning brow at the twins. Walking forward, Aemma curtsied to her father.
“Kepa, how are the plans coming along?” Aemma pondered as she rose to place a chaste kiss on her father’s cheeks.
Daemon returned the kiss as he replied, “Well and done; I will explain them to you after supper. How are your sister and brothers doing?”
As they all turned, Daemon quickly explained that the twins should wash up and come later to supper, as he first wanted to spend time with Aemma. Motioning for Benjicot to follow them. The three left to Daemon’s chambers.
Alyn and Addam nervously watched the small family leave before reluctantly leaving, the weight of Princess Baela’s letter growing heavier by the second.
Back with Daemon, Ben, and Aemma, she finally answered her father’s question, “Rhaena and Joffery are fine, upset that we haven’t been writing more often, shocked that not only am I married but also a mother…. It's Aegon and Visery that worry me, Kepa,”
Daemon furrowed his brows in confusion, “what do you mean, are they ill?”
Aemma shook her head, reaching for Ben’s hand and placing it on her lap; she inhaled softly as she elaborated, “Aegon… Aegon believes to have been abandoned, asking if Muna cared about them or if she sent them to Vale to get rid of them… and with Visery… Visery forgets you both. He…”
She faltered, biting her lip. Daemon frowned, “He what, Aemma? What is happening with my youngest hatchling?”
Ben turned to her, watching as she carefully thought out her words, squeezing her hand to comfort her.
Feeling Ben’s grip, the young princess sighed, returning her gaze to her father, “He forgets who his parents are… He… when he saw me… he called me…” Aemma faltered, not wanting to upset her father.
Growling slightly, Daemon pushed again; with a shuttering breath, Aemma said, “He called me Muna; as he hugged me, he called me his mother.”
Daemon inhaled sharply as he closed his eyes, letting his daughter's words fully sink in. He and Rhaenyra were escaping their youngest’s memories. Cursing the greens, because of this blasted war, his family was fracturing.
Benjicot bit his lip as he stared at his good father, seeing the internal battle. He, too, would be upset if Jaesys started to forget who he and Aemma were. He can only hope this war will end soon so he may never have to experience becoming a stranger to his son.
Daemon rose, stalking to his wine cup, allowing the sweetness to flow down his mouth. “This war will be over soon. Once we get rid of Aemond, Kingslanding, and the whole of Westeros, we will be restored to your mother's hands, and our family will come together again.” He explained although it seemed like he was speaking more to himself than Aemma.
Seeing him upset, Aemma rose with Ben, stating they would retire to rest before supper. Both lord and princess bowed as they turned to leave the chambers. Aemma glanced back to see her father gripping his cup so violently that his knuckles turned white.
The princess and her lord husband had a quiet and somber walk to their tent. Ben caressed Aemma's knuckles with his thumb, leading her inside the tent. Once inside, Aemma sighed as she rolled her shoulders, unbuckling her belt, wanting to change from riding leathers to something more breathable. The humid air was making her skin sticky from the sweat. Ben stared at his wife before walking behind her, pressing his body to her, then his face into her neck, hoping to ease her stress. Aemma leaned back, allowing her worries to release and savor her husband's smell. Benjicot always smelled like a rainy forest to her.
“Was I too harsh… should I have worded better, Ben?” Aemma questioned as she turned her body to face him.
Benjicot stared at his princess’s purple eyes, bringing a hand to caress her cheek; he shook his head. “No, sweet girl, I don’t think you could have worded it any kinder. It’s the sad truth about your younger brothers. If I were Daemon, this would only motivate me to eliminate my enemies so my family could be whole again.”
Aemma nodded, smiling as she leaned forward, wanting a kiss. Ben snorted playfully before he leaned in as well. He will never tire of kissing his princess. After a moment in sweet bliss, the two separate as they decide to sit on their bed, leaning against each other.
Kissing her forehead, Benjicot asks about their son, “How was he when you left him?”
Aemma bit her lip, not wanting to process that her baby was far from her reach, “I fed him and ensured that he was sleeping. I did not have the heart to leave him while awake. I’m hoping that because he spent his first three moons with many people, he won’t have too many issues being in the Vale. Oh, but it was so hard to leave him, Ben… please, after we deal with Aemon,d can we bring him back to us? I don’t think I can handle him being gone for so long,” she pleaded, staring at her husband’s stormy eyes.
Benjicot smiled, kissing her pouting lips as he agreed, “Of course, love, whatever you ask of me, I will do my best to provide.”
Aemma smiled; before she felt mischievous, checking that they had enough time, she placed herself on Benjicot’s lap, running her fingers in his hair before lightly pulling his head back.
“Whatever I ask?” she teased, leaning to nip on his lips, causing the raven lord to growl, the heat in his stomach growing.
“Anything and everything, my princess,” he grunted as Aemma began to move her hips against his. Grabbing her bottoms and pressing them down on him.
Moaning, Aemma rose to strip herself, grin growing as she saw Ben follow suit. Crawling to be fully on their bed, she laid her body, allowing him to place himself between her thighs. Kissing her neck, Benjicot asked what she wanted.
“You, I want you Benjicot. I want your love; I need your cock inside of me,” she whispers, kissing his lips, sighing in bliss as she feels him slide inside of her.
“Warp your legs around me, sweet girl. I want to be as close as I can be with you.” he lightly commanded as he began to move in and out of her.
Moaning and grunting, the princess and lord danced the dance of their bodies joining together. Wanting to experience their love for each other, they both knew they would not last long. Although they could care less, they just needed each other.
Whimpering, Aemma felt her release climb out of her as she felt Ben stiffen on top, Milking his seed in her body, as she secretly prayed that another babe would take root in her womb. She knew she barely had Jaesys and barely made it three moons, but her body could not stop craving Benjicot’s. They were made for each other. As they both came out of their high, Aemma kissed his chest, pushing him off as she acknowledged that they had a short time before Daemon expected them back for supper.
Groaning, Benjicot rose, pulling up his trousers and a loose shirt, wrapping a blanket to cover Aemma before he ordered one of the handmaidens to prepare a bath for them. Aemma ran her fingers through her hair, thanking her maiden once the tub was ready, warm enough for her but not burning for Benjicot. As the two enter the bath, they quickly wash up, not wanting to push their limits with Daemon.
Dinner was awkward with the evident tension oozing from Alyn and Addam. Both brothers had their reasons for not feeling at ease. For Alyn, he hardly knew Aemma and less Daemon and Benjicot. He did not want to overstep or say the wrong thing. While Addam carried the tension of Baela’s letter, he had no idea how to approach the topic.
Unimpressed at the tension, Daemon finished his meal before clearing his throat. “Alright, out with it, what news have you brought that has you nervous? Surely, it is not urgent if you two did not say so earlier.”
Addam gulped, shaking; he took out the letter, “We come bearing a letter… from Princess Baela to Princess Aemma. She stated that Aemma had to read the letter. I’m sorry, Aemma, but… I’ll let you read it.
Worried, Aemma quickly took the letter and began reading it out loud, gasping as she read the horrid statement. “Sister, Muna is unwell; her grief has caused her madness, and with the poisonous words of Mysaria, Muna has been led to believe Kepa had an affair with poor Netty. The poor girl sobbed, pleading that those were terrible lies. I believed her because I know that Kepa would never betray our queen. I sent Netty and Sheepstealer to Essos. Hopefully, Muna will never find out because she would see it as a slight. When you can, please come to Dragonstone. I plead that you speak with her, she listens to you. Your sister, Baela.”
Crumpling the letter, Aemma's face darkens with anger, her eyes glowing bright, “That witch, just wait till I get my arms around her stupid neck.”
Daemon stood, his face too dark, as he thought he should have slain that woman the minute she forced a miscarriage of their child. As the three young men nervously looked at each other, another raven arrived. Benjicot reached to release the letter, as it read, “From Queen Rhaenyra, let it be known that Daemon Targaryen, Alyn, and Addam Velayron are branded as traitors to the true queen of the seven kingdoms. The Queen asks the traitors to return to Dragonstone to receive a trial before her war council, Signed Lady Mysaria, lady of Whispers.”
Aemma shouted angrily as she threw her cup to the wall, with Daemon slumping on his chair, his head in his hands. He could not understand how easily others were manipulating Rhaenyra. She knew how much he loved her and their family. He would die for her, but it seemed she inherited Visery’s trait of being easily influenced while in grief. Again, he was seen as an outsider due to another personal gain.
Upset, Daemon rises, “I will take my leave. Aemond is coming tomorrow, and I plan to show our queen who are the actual traitors.” Benjicot, Alyn, and Addam stood to bow to the King Consort, understanding his turmoil. Aemma stared at her father, upset that her mother would believe such lies.
“I should fly tonight to Dragonstone and cut the poisonous tongue out of that witch's mouth,” Aemma snarled.
Ben shook his head in disagreement, “No, Aemma, wait until we deal with the Kinslayer. That way, we have physical proof of your father and uncle's loyalty to your mother. Then we can deal with the White Wyrm. If everyone knows how the three fought for the queen, Mysaria's lies will be exposed.”
Aemma stared at her husband before exhaling, agreeing they needed proof of loyalty. “Fine, let us retire for the night. We all need to be on the highest alert for tomorrow.
The following day, it was tense around the camp. Everyone was preparing for the battle. Cregan and Alysanne instructed the archers on the plan and placed them in the correct position near the lake. Alyn joined Benjicot and the Tully Brothers in preparing the troops if Aemond brought an army. Aemma and Addam went to the skies with their dragons, who would signal the archers when to shoot at Vhagar. Daemon was alone, his internal storm brewing as he rose Caraxes in the air. Soon, everyone heard the clear thundering of large dragon wings approaching them. Aemma curled her mouth in disgust and anger as she saw Vhagar and Aemond approaching them. Soon after, they heard Caraxes's pitch screech as the Blood Wyrm attacked Vhagar from the belly.
Aemond yelled in anger as he commanded his dragon to start shooting fire. Rising higher, Addam and Aemma flew their dragons in circles, giving the signal to Alysanne Blackwood.
“Archers, notch…. Aim… shoot!” Black Aly commanded as she led the first arrow in the air, followed by hundreds of more arrows.
Aemond turned Vhagars body to block the assault. Cackling, he turned his eyes to the red and black soldiers, “Vhagar Drac-”
Before Aemond could finish, Vhagar screeched in pain as Caraxes bit the older dragon's legs again. Daemon laughed as he shouted to Aemond.
“Is this all you can do, nephew? It is no wonder your cunt of a grandfather never named you heir. You are not better than Aegon, weak, puny, Hightower spawn pretending to be true dragons.” Daemon taunted gleefully as Aemond yelled at Dracarys, but Caraxes was faster than ever to maneuver out of the way.
“You have lived too long, uncle; I will show you how much of a true dragon I am!” Aemond shouted as he pulled on Vhagar’s reigns.
Aemma watched from above, wondering when it was the right time to support her father. Looking for a clear indication, she saw when Vhagar focused on Caraxes, and there she flew down and commanded Sliverwing to breathe fire. As the Sliver dragon sent flames to the green dragon, Caraxes flew up and bit Vhagar’s neck. Aemma turned Sliverwing, hoping also to bite Vhagar, when she watched in horror as her father jumped up, with Darksister high above his head, yelling, “ A son for a Son!”
Aemma screamed in horror as Daemon stabbed Aemond’s remaining eye, watching as both green and red dragons fell toward the lake. She pulled Sliverwing’s reigns, determined to catch her falling father.
While Benjicot shouted in dread for Aemma to rise, the camp watched in sheer horror as three dragons seemed to be speeding toward the lake above god’s eye. Addam, seeing Aemma’s recklessness, pushed Grey Ghost towards the lake.
“Pull up Aemma! Don’t be reckless, please!” Addam pleaded, which, to his relief, Aemma reluctantly listened.
Sobbing, Aemma rushed back up, commanding Sliverwing to land on the lake’s banks as she watched Caraxes and Vhagar crash and sink, dragging Aemond with them. Jumping off her dragon, Aemma ran towards the lake, trying to reach where Daemon had crashed. Benjicot, seeing his wife run in grief, rushed towards her and grabbed her waist to pull her out of the water.
“No, NO! Ben, let me go, I need to save him… KEPA! PLEASE, Let me go.” the dragon princess sobbed, smaking her arms on his chest as he tried to comfort his wife.
“Aemma, please, my love, you’ll drown before you can reach him…” Ben pleaded as he struggled to keep her in his arms.
Shaking her head, she searches for any sign of her father, “I can’t lose him, I can’t lose another father, please Benjicot, please… Kepa!” Aemma shouted as she saw Daemon's arms pop out of the water.
Hearing Aemma's shouts, Addam flew down with Grey Ghost, using his legs to grab onto the body of the dragon prince and put him down on the banks.
Pushing Benjicot away from her, Aemma ran to where Daemon lay, with Ben and the army following closely behind.
Falling to her knees, Aemma grabbed her father’s broken body. Crying as she saw a large wound at the side of his stomach. Gasping in pain, Daemon stared at his sweet girl, feeling coldness spread around him.
“My little Sea Dragon… please don’t cry…” Daemon wheezed, although he was crying, too.
His daughters were his world, always promising he would defend them from harm, yet he was breaking that promise here. He knew he would never see Rhaena marry or Baela give birth to Jace’s child. However, what caused him more heartache was that he broke his promise to Aemma, the one he made when he married her mother. To always be her kepa, and that he would not do anything to cause him to make her feel abandoned by another father.
“Please, don’t leave me…” Aemma whispered as she cradled her father, rubbing his cheek against hers.
“My sweet girl, I will always be there, in spirit, for you and your sisters and brothers. Please tell them that I love them. Please, Aemma, promise me you will tell them.” Daemon pleaded as he started to see the world darken.
Aemma closed her eyes and nodded, “Yes, I will, Kepa. They know how much you loved all your children.”
“Yes, my daughters, my sons, my world. Ben… Benjicot, my son, I need you to promise… Promise that you will defend and fight for… Aemma.. Even if it means …. Giving you life… promise me son.” Daemon asked Benjicot, who was in shock at being called son by his good father.
“Yes, I will always defend her… I will gladly give my life, just like I pledged during the duel… don’t worry… I keep everyone safe, Kepa.” Benjicot responded, his tears flowing down his cheeks.
Daemon gave a bloody smile to the boy he came to call his son, happy that at least one of his daughters found a love match. Feeling his body lifting and eyes heavy, he spoke one last time.
“Tell your mother I have always loved her… I die… loving… her…”
Aemma wailed as she felt her father slump in her arms. As Benjicot gathered her and Daemon in his arms, the dragon princess and the rest of the camp grieved for the King Consort.
Everyone person and dragon kneeled, paying their respects to the fearsome Rogue Prince, their king consort, who gave his life for his queen, for her beloved wife, and her crown.
All the while, two separate people stared in the distance, two different knights watching before leaving camp, once towards a crippled king and clubfoot, the other towards his lady known as the white wyrm. Heralding the call, Daemon Targaryen has perished above the god’s eye.
I haven't abandoned this blog! Just busy with work, but I'm happy to share for those who haven't forgotten about my HOTD fanfiction! A new chapter of The Dragon and The Raven will either be out today or tomorrow morning!
Summary: Caracalla has always been a sickly child as an adult. Causing his family's fierce protection. Knowing the love Caracalla has for his brother and good sister, Empress Arabella, Tragedy strikes, leaving them shaken.
(Note: Arabella is the same character as in The Emperor and His Lady series. I used Heleana from HOTD because it fits the scene of this fanfic, but Arabella still has brown hair and brown eyes.)
Word Count: 1.8k
Tags: angst with comfort.
This song inspired this story, and I recommend listening to it while reading.
In the might of Rome, she was ruled by two emperors, Emperor Geta and Emperor Caracalla. Twin rulers who ruled Rome under a mighty fist, many called them crazed tyrannical rulers that no one could tame, much less themselves. Of course, that was before the Empress Arabella graced the lives of the two Emperors. Empress Arabella was brought into the twin rulers' lives when they were mere princes. A promise between a loyal Senator and Emperor Septimus Severus: at first, Prince Geta and Lady Arabella were indifferent to each other, knowing their duty, but they had no care or love for each other. Both knew what was needed from them and would proudly fulfill the duty without love. They both thought it was okay and did not need the comforts of love.
Caracalla, the younger twin, was always a sickly child, which caused him to be overprotected by both his mother and older twin brother. Both understood his fragility and, in their efforts to protect him, didn’t allow many people around him. So when the time came to succeed, their father, and mother left the plains of living. Geta took it upon himself to become his brother’s sole protector. There were times when this would cause complications between the brothers because Caracalla could not understand why there were certain days he couldn’t be with his brother during Gladiator fights, Senate meetings, or even enjoying the company of concubines. He wanted to experience the benefits of being the Emperor of Rome; He wanted companionship. That all changed once Arabella married Geta; while the couple tolerated each other and were only seen together in public, Arabella and Caracalla found solace in each other.
Arabella knew from her husband what the Older twin's restrictions on his family were like, so she could sympathize with Caracalla about their frustrations of not having certain liberties due to Geta’s paranoia. She noticed when both brothers grew tense with their different views regarding the empire. Felling the tensions, Arabella took it upon herself to take Caracalla away. She would always ask him to accompany her in the gardens, where the two would spend hours lounging. She would read numerous great hero myths to Caracalla as the younger emperor leaned on his good sister’s shoulder. Enjoying the comforts, something he missed from his departed mother. At first, Geta was weary of his brother and wife spending so much time together, thinking something nefarious would transpire, but it all changed when it came to their birthday celebrations that year.
Both emperors were happy in their celebrations, more Caracalla, because Geta eased the restrictions and even allowed the concubines to flock towards them. Arabella gifted Caracalla his most treasured friend, a monkey that he named Dundus. As Caracalla enjoyed the musing of the people in his feast and his new friend, he saw his brother stare at his wife in what seemed in shock before lifting her in joy and kissing her. It was later discovered the Empress was expecting a child, and everyone was overjoyed… all but Caracalla. He did not want to share his brother and sister; if they had a child, they would soon forget him and push him away into the shadows again. Who would comfort him when Geta was pressing down on his restrictions? Who would be his loyal protector and ensure he keeps his vow to their mother daily? Caracalla did not want the babe, but alas, he could not be angry when he saw both Geta and Arabella lean closer to each other. So much so that Geta dismissed the concubines, not wanting to risk anything or offend his wife. Even if Caracalla protested. Not when Arabella's stomach swelled, and tiny kicks could be felt whenever Caracalla and Geta pressed their cheeks to her belly.
Indeed, it was not when the new prince was born, screaming his lungs out to announce to the world that he had arrived. Seeing both Geta and Arabella's joyful tears as they welcomed their son. He was a perfect copy of his father except for the eyes; those were his sweet mother’s eyes opened and stared at his uncle—a lovely, chubby, cheeked babe who stared at his uncle with pure love and admiration. Caracalla, too, then wept as he held his nephew. That is when Caracalla understood the pain and effort Geta took daily to protect him. So Caracalla vowed always to protect his nephew, little Gaius. Much to everyone’s relief, Geta’s headache proved correct. Little Gaius always follows his uncle in creating mischief in the palace, only stopping when Empress Arabella catches them and lightly scolds them both. This always ended with a kiss on their cheeks as she whispered to her boys.
“What am I ever going to with you both, my troublemakers.”
Yes, life was good for the Emperors and their family… until it wasn’t.
It had been a cold winter, and many were sick from shivers and fevers. Unfortunately, not even the royal family was immune. No one knew who it was, but a servant who was ill went into Caracalla’s chambers long enough to infect the emperor, who succumbed to the sickness, leaving him tired and coughing in bed. As Geta again grew paranoid, he ordered healer after healer to heal his brother. Empress Arabella took the tool to accompany her brother, feeding, entertaining, and reading. Last but certainly not least, little Gaius, his messenger to the outside, came daily to report to his uncle about the news in the palace.
Today was no different. As Geta set out for the Senate, his wife and son went to greet and awaken Caracalla. Arabella and Gaius walked in as the chambers opened, allowing her son to break free as the little boy ran to his uncle’s bed. Smiling, the young empress walked to the window, pushing open the curtains to allow the warm sun of Rome to shine through.
Little Gaius climbed up the bed and gently shook his sleeping uncle.
“Uncle Cara, it’s time to wake! The Sun is shining!” exclaimed the little one, growing confused when his uncle did not stir.
Pushing his uncle with more force, Gaius tried again, “Uncle, it’s time to wake…”
Again, there was no movement. Learning to touch his uncle’s cheek, Gaius furrowed his brows. His uncle was cold. Turning, he faced his mother, who was tidying Caracalla’s desk from last night's activities.
“Mama… Uncle Cara… he’s too cold.”
Arabella swung her head at her son’s words, her breath hitching as she turned, her eyes filled with worry. As she quickly walked to her brother’s side, she gently shook his shoulder and leaned to kiss his cheek. Riling back from the shock of the coldness, she breathed heavily. Turning to her son, she smiled weakly before calling for his nanny.
“Take Gaius to the garden. Gaius, go with your nanny and pick some lovely flowers for Cara, please,” commanded the Empress.
Waiting for her son to leave, she then ordered healers to be brought and her husband to be called back. She climbed into the bed and gathered Caracalla into her arms as she rocked the stiff and cold emperor.
“Please, please wake sweet boy. Please, Cara, don’t do this… please.”
As healers rushed to assess the emperor, Arabella grasped Caracalla’s hand, pressing a kiss, whispering, pleading with the gods for him to wake. Unfortunately, the healer, finding no pulse, remorsefully turned to the empress, shaking his head. Arabella gasped, tears filling her eyes as she tried to deny the news.
“No…” she whispered, tears falling.
As her breaths grew shallower, she turned to her brother, shaking her head. She rose, gathering him into her arms and pressing her cheek to his cold one as her heart tore in two.
With a wail of anguish, she cried for her brother, “NO! Please, please… Cara, wake up! Please!”
Geta, who came back rushing, froze at his wife's screams as he too sharply inhaled before sprinting into the room, His love holding his brother, crying in despair as he too shouted.
“No, Brother! You are not gone! AWAKE! Cara… CARACALLA!” cried Geta, taking his brother’s face and shaking him. Arabella cried as she pleaded with Geta to be gentle.
The whole palace froze, hearing the grief vibrating through the walls.
Days later, the remainder of the royal family rode a carriage through the streets of Rome. Loyal senators convinced the royals to do a funeral procession around Rome so the empire could also express their grief to the fallen co-emperor. To show the people the humanity of the empire and bring them closer to it. Although Arabella initially pushed against it, hearing the Senator's plea, somberly agreed, as did Geta. Grasping her husband's hand with a deadly grip, the Emperor, Empress, and prince rode behind Caracalla’s body. As the Roman People watched their remaining Emperor and his family ride, they threw flower petals while shouting their support for the Empress and prince. In her grief, Arabella pressed her body to Geta, tears flowing down her cheeks as she raised her face toward the sky. Her veil covered her face as flower petals fell around her. She just wanted her brother.
The day ended when Caracalla’s body was placed in the pavilion, lighting the pyre that burned the younger twin emperor as his loved ones stared in worry, disbelief, and grief—thinking about what the future entails, a world without Caracalla.
With a sharp breath and cough, Caracalla awoke from his slumber. Turning, he noticed he was in his chambers, his desk a mess, and curtains close. Relieved from his nightmare, the emperor rose from his bed and ran through the halls towards his brother’s chambers. Bursting through his entrance shocked his brother and good sister.
“Brother! Worry not, I am-”
“Caracalla! What are you doing, brother? You are sick, and stepping through these cold tiles will only harm you.” interrupted Arabella as she scolded her brother.
Caracalla grinned as he saw his beautiful sister rushing to her, and he kissed her cheek.
“Sister! Do not cry for me yet… I am alive.” he comforted her, remembering her grief.
Geta and Arabella looked confused at the younger twin's words. Shaking his head, Geta responded by gathering his brother and leading him back to his chambers.
“Of course you are alive, brother, but you will cause me more headaches if you do not lie back down and recover from your sickness, at risk of getting worse.”
Lying his brother down, Geta smoothed the younger twin’s hair as Arabella placed the sheets on top of Caracalla.
“Where is Gaius? He needs to see that his uncle is alive, and I wish to see my nephew, " Caracalla ordered.
“He is still sleeping, Cara. I will bring him later. Rest now. I do not know what you dreamt, but you are very much alive. But remember, you are sick, and we need you to get better.” Arabella comforted as she kissed the emperor’s cheek.
Smiling, Caracalla snuggled in the warmth as he watched his brother and good sister walk in arms out of his chambers, perplexed by the events. He was alive.
I haven't been to TikTok for a WEEK! I was too busy writing my Emperor Geta Fanfiction. I opened it up today and I see Emperor Geta edits! 🤭 they know me so well… and to top it off edits of the man, the legend, who started my obsession with crazed emperors, Joaquin Phoenix’s Commodus! That man has a hold on me. Lol 😆
Edit: I want to share the videos! You need to see what I mean lol
I haven't been to TikTok for a WEEK! I was too busy writing my Emperor Geta Fanfiction. I opened it up today and I see Emperor Geta edits! 🤭 they know me so well… and to top it off edits of the man, the legend, who started my obsession with crazed emperors, Joaquin Phoenix’s Commodus! That man has a hold on me. Lol 😆
Edit: I want to share the videos! You need to see what I mean lol
To all of you out there writing long ass...carefully cultivated...painstakingly characterized...thoughtfully written fanfictions...I see you and I appreciate the everliving shit outta you.
Summary: Arabella and Geta flee from the Chaos that Macrinus and Caracalla placed in Rome. Lucius fights for the dream that is Rome, and new beginnings blossom.
Arabella placed herself before Geta, “Uncle, please, We seek refuge…”
Arabella’s uncle, the eldest of the two brothers, never had the chance to marry. So, he used his brother’s children to gain control of the family. Arabella was their last chance for glory; he would not give up easily.
“My dear, you are confused… come, there will be an emperor at the end of the day, Caracalla or Lucius… they will need an empress, and you…”
Growling, Geta pressed Arabella to his body, “Choose your next words carefully; I can still find ways to get rid of you!”
Arabella watched as her uncle staggered back before forming a weak smirk: “With what army? I can yell and have Caracalla arrest you or wait until Lucius takes back Rome, and you will still lose Geta. Come, Arabella. You have done wonderful with him, but it’s time to move on.”
“No….” she protested, walking away from Geta. She glared at her uncle.
“No… what nonsense are you speaking, stupid girl? I said, come.” commanded her uncle.
Tired of all the stress from the day and tired of being used for men’s gain, Arabella’s face darkened, “I said NO! I am done being used as a pawn for your and my father’s gain. I have always done everything you commanded of me since I was 11 years old. You pushed so much to become Geta’s empress; what did you expect that I do not love him? I will not leave him. I love him and our child, who is growing in me. Caracalla nor Lucius would let me keep my babe, and I would rather die than lose another son. So go ahead, try to force me away from Geta, but you will only have a corpse to use or a girl so damaged she will be useless to you. I will make sure I cannot conceive another child if you force me. I want to live peacefully with the man I love and my child. So what will it be? Uncle, choose now, and I will make my choice.”
Geta and her uncle froze their blood cold at Arabella’s words. Geta’s face hardened as he placed his hands on his lover’s stomach, glaring at her uncle. In contrast, Arabella’s uncle could only stare. All for naught, he thought, exhaling as he backed down.
Arabella and Geta watched as her uncle's shoulders dropped. Shaking his head, he made eye contact with Geta as he spoke, “You would have made a wonderful, kind but fearsome empress; such a shame you never were made one.”
Geta gulped, feeling the guilt returning to him; her uncle was correct. His Arabella would have been the best empress, but he was too selfish to make her one. After a beat, Arabella and Geta could finally breathe as Arabella's uncle led the two lovers to a Villa that belonged to her family—one that was away from the main areas of Rome but still close.
Once they had arrived, Arabella’s uncle said they should relax while he returned to the palace. An emergency Senate meeting was to occur; he would return with news after the meeting. Leaving the two on their own, Arabella sighed, rubbing her belly as she calmed herself, hoping all the stress would not take a toll on her or her child. Turning, she watched Geta sit by the hearth, staring at the fire that the servants quickly lighted.
“Geta… my love? What bothers you?” she whispered as she knelt before him, taking his hands into hers.
Geta took a moment before turning to stare at her, “Your uncle is right. You have been a wonderful empress… I… I was too paranoid to allow it… I was too jealous; I wanted you for myself…Would it have changed what is happening now if you were my empress?”
Shaking her head, Arabella sat on his lap, cradling his face as she spoke, “It is not good to dwell on the past or what could have been. Hush, my love, take comfort that we are alive, the three of us, and take comfort that I will never… never leave you.”
Leaning down, Arabella kissed Geta, taking his arms and wrapping them around her. Geta deepened the kiss, pressing her body to his as they comforted each other from the hectic and terrifying night. The two stayed awake for another hour to see if any news came, but once they heard nothing, they decided to retire for the night.
The following day, Arabella’s uncle returned with a haunted look. As she led her uncle to the dining area, she watched in suspense as he placed his head in his hands.
“Uncle… what has happened?” she asked, watching Geta enter the room and sit beside her.
“Caracalla… he… he placed two new senators to his consul… his monkey Dundus and the second Macrinus. He gave the throne to Macrinus.” Her uncle explained, closing his eyes in disbelief.
Arabella and Geta inhaled sharply at the news, realizing that Macrinus used both Geta and Caracalla to get to the throne.
As her uncle raised his sight, he gave her a look, telling her there was more. Arabella gave a worried brow as she silently urged her uncle to speak.
“Your father…he has been sentenced to be killed along with the senators who conspired to usurp Geta and Caracalla. They will be killed along with former empress Lucilla,” he spoke, massaging his brow.
Arabella softly gasped, “But he wasn’t part of the coup… why would he be sentenced.”
Her uncle smiled contemptuously, “He denied your hand in marriage to Caracalla. He also denied knowing your whereabouts. Macrinus convinced Caracalla to kill him, saying that your father was deliberately offending him. I’m sorry, my girl, I could not save him.”
Arabella sniffed, having lost both fathers in her life in less than 24 hours. As Geta placed a soothing hand on hers, she proudly spoke, “My father was a servant to Rome, and he will die knowing what he did was for the betterment of Rome.”
Arabella’s uncle agreed before stating he needed to leave for the Colosseum, promising the pair that he would return after the events.
At the Colosseum, the crowd was anxious, not knowing who or what the cause of the games was for that day. The Senators shifted as many of their own were at stake, including the former empress. They knew if they killed the empress, Rome would eat them alive; they could only hope the gods were merciful.
As Caracalla walked down, he noticed his people cringe before him. They looked at him in disgust or fear, and he wanted to weep. He always had his brother to protect him from the wolves. Now his brother was gone… and he was alone, with no one to defend him, and Caracalla thought, “I made a mistake…”. Macrinus, seeing the hesitation, gently pushed the emperor into his throne.
The Gates opened, and the people gasped in outrage as they saw a cart of senators walking out with their beloved Empress Lucilla standing at the top.
“Lucilla! Gods have mercy on you, empress!”
“Empress Lucilla, she is innocent!”
“Release her! Release the empress!”
Caracalla whimpered, hearing his people shouting in outrage. It wasn’t supposed to be this way.
Marcella looked at the royal box, smirking as Macrinus, a fool, looked like he already had won; little did he know. As the plan started, Lucius came out fighting the guards one by one, making sure to stall to give the impression he was desperate to save his mother; as he reached the top, Lucius again asked Marcella if she wanted him to save her.
“No, my emperor, I need to die. We need the people of Rome to fight against Macrinus and Cara-” Marcella gasped as an arrow shot through her chest.
“NO!” shouted Lucius, being caught unprepared as he turned to glare at Macrinus.
As Macrinus lowered his bow, he relished at the chaos ensuing, the people screaming and rioting as the Senators ran away. Leaning towards the young emperor, Macrinus threw his arms around Caracalla’s shoulders.
“Well done, my imperator. You have won, but unfortunately, it's time you step down. Not to worry, Rome will be in good hands, my hands.” He sneered as he took a pin out and stabbed Caracalla.
As Caracalla shouted in pain, he felt blood gushing out his ear as his vision began to blur. Feeling coldness roam over him, Caracalla thought of his brother, his protector. He regretted killing his brother… for Geta truly did love him. Then his mind to Arabella, sweet and beautiful Arabella. Caracalla knew his love for her was not romantic but of a brother and sister. His problem with her was that he was jealous that Geta and she were in love, leaving him behind. He had no one like they had each other. He felt regret for tormenting her all those years. He wished he could have been kinder. Finally, as Caracalla left the realm of the living, a riverboat greeted him. Terrified, Caracalla looked around when he heard someone calling for him. Seeing at a distance, he saw a woman he recognized as his mother.
“Caracalla, come, my sweet boy!” shouted his mother.
Grinning, the young emperor walked up to the boat and waved to his mother as he crossed the river Styx.
Macrnius smirked at the dead emperor, staring at the floor. He saw Luicus’ glare and decided he needed to leave. Lucius, seeing Macrinus running, began to pursue the man. He would not leave Rome alive.
At the outskirts of Rome came Lucilla, leading a horde of Roman soldiers waiting to meet their enemy. At a distance, she saw two horses coming towards them and another group of soldiers. Gasping, she saw Lucius jump from his horse, tackling Macrinus to the ground, and the two men began sparing. As Lucius tripped into the river, he held his breath and reached for his dagger. Macrinus blindly stabbed him, trying to pierce through the armor. Seeing an opening, Lucius shouted as he rushed up from the water, slicing Macrinus through his stomach. Breathing heavily, he watched as Macrinus slowly sank to the river's bottom.
As Lucilla and Lucius took back the throne and ensured the people of Rome were calm and safe, they began to assess the damage in the Palace. Lucius, noticing his mother searching through Emperor Geta’s chambers, the gardens, and, lastly, another chamber, finally asked her what or whom she was looking for.
“A maiden named Arabella… was my companion for many years. I grew to love her as a daughter. She was with Geta… before he was killed. Senator!” Lucilla ended shouting, seeing Arabella’s uncle walking.
“My empress, Imperator, what can I do for you.” bowed the Senator.
Lucius squirmed, not being used to being greeted as a royal for many years, and answered for his mother.
“A girl, Arabella. My mother is wondering if you have seen her. " Lucius pondered, growing nervous, seeing the Senator's remorseful look.
“I know not what happened to my dear niece. She was with Geta when Caracalla killed his brother. I fear... I fear the rumors are true; my niece threw herself to her death rather than becoming Caracalla’s empress. I am so sorry, Empress Lucilla. I knew how much she meant to you.” Arabella’s uncle lied, bowing as Lucilla began weeping for her little girl.
“Thank you, senator. I am sorry for your loss,” consoled Lucius, who found it strange that the Senator was not distraught like his mother.
Six months passed, and Rome began healing from the injustices she suffered. The people were healing and beginning to thrive. Lucilla, although still grieving the loss of her daughter and husband, provided excellent support for Lucius in ruling Rome. To rejoice, The Senate decided to throw gladiator games to celebrate the six-month mark of Emperor Lucius’s reign. Although Lucius was against it at first, he was later convinced by his mother that it would be a good idea.
As the two walked to see the gladiators, Lucilla noticed Arabella’s uncle bringing supplies to a specific group of men. Knowing that he was never a Senator who paid interest in the gladiators or had any military knowledge, she walked towards him curious. As she walked closer, she heard the conversation that made her freeze.
“How is my lady, Senator? I bet her belly must be huge by now! And Gano? How is he fairing?”
“My niece is thriving through her pregnancy while her husband panics about everything; it is quite charming to see, " the senator laughed. His laugh, however, was cut short once he noticed Lucilla.
“Senator, six months ago, you told me Arabella killed herself; I am now shocked to hear not only is she married, she is expecting her first child,” questioned Lucilla, growing upset with her surrogate daughter’s uncle.
As the Senator gulped, he nervously tried to deny it, but Lucilla would not be deceived again.
“You will bring her to me; I wish to see my girl healthy with my own eyes,” Lucilla commanded, walking away from the Senator.
At a nearby Villa, Arabella walked towards her husband carrying a refreshing drink. Rising from his papers, Geta smiled as he greeted his wife.
“Wife, I am sure I heard the healer tell you not to be on your feet so often," he asked his wife, kissing her lips quickly and taking the drink from her hands.
“Walking to my husband does not count, Geta. My back starts aching after laying down so much.” Lightly complained Arabella, rubbing her round belly as she pouted.
Geta grinned, placing his hand on Arabella’s, his smile growing as he felt his son kick against his hand.
As the two kissed, a servant girl told them the lady’s uncle had urgent business to speak with them. The two separated, sharing a confused look as they greeted the visitor.
“Uncle, you were just here? Has something happened?” questioned Arabella, allowing Geta to lead her to sit down.
As her uncle sat beside her, he grabbed her hands, “Ara…Empress Lucilla knows you are alive. She has commanded me to take you to the palace. I’m sorry, niece, but I can’t go against the empress.”
Arabella's brows rose in shock. She had hoped that Lucilla never found out about her whereabouts. Looking towards Geta, she saw her husband furrow his brows in confusion.
“Why does Empress Lucilla want to see Arabella? Does she want to marry her to Lucius,” growled Geta, jealousy blooming in his chest.
Arabella held a hand to her husband’s chest, hoping to calm him from his anger.
Arabella’s uncle shook his head, “No, Emperor Lucius is still adamant about not taking a wife. The empress wishes to see you healthy with her own eyes. She has missed you so much, dear girl. Please pay a quick visit to ease her and then return to your life here.”
Nodding, Arabella agreed to visit her lady; unfortunately, Geta was still paranoid about the reason for the visit.
Geta grunted, grabbing Arabella’s hand as he commanded, “I will go with you.”
“Geta, you are still wanted in Rome. I am not risking my husband getting arrested by the emperor; stay here, " Arabella countered, annoyed that her husband was trying to be difficult.
“I wasn’t asking Ara… I’m going. I don’t believe the emperor just wants you to visit.” argued Get, narrowing his eyes.
Like times before, the Lady and her Husband continue their battle through their eyes, each equally stubborn trying to win against each other.
Arabella’s uncle chuckled, having gotten used to the young lovers' antics. “Niece, you know him better than anyone. You know he will not stay behind. He will go as he is known outside, Gano, and we will dye his hair dark brown. Hopefully, the emperor doesn’t remember how much Geta looked like, and we can quickly visit and let it be done.”
Arabella sighed in defeat, sending a quick glare as her husband smirked, feeling like he had won the argument.
As the three walked through the white floors of the palace, Arabella and Geta could not help but feel nervous about their visit to the emperor and his mother. Geta looked around and saw how much his former home had changed in under six months. Nothing of him and his brother were shown or left in the palace. Sighing, he walked behind his wife somberly, missing his twin. As husband and wife entered the feast chamber, Lucilla gasped in delight, seeing her girl not only healthy but practically glowing from her pregnancy. Standing from her spot next to Lucius, Empress Lucilla greeted her daughter.
“Arabella! Oh, my sweet girl, I am so happy you are well and with a child. You are glowing!” exclaimed the empress mother, gathering Arabella into her arms.
As Geta stood back with his hood covering his face, he stood nervously, feeling paranoid at being close to Lucilla and Lucius. Emperor Lucius smiled at his mother, who was reuniting with his surrogate sister. Turning to face his sister’s husband, he could not help but narrow his eyes and recognize the man.
“Empress, it's good to see you again.” greeted Arabella, bowing only to be raised by Lucilla, who waved her off.
“None of that bowing, especially with you so heavily pregnant. How far along are you?” questioned Lucilla as she toyed with Arabella’s curls.
Smiling, Arabella rubbed her ever-growing bump, “In a week, I will be seven months. I’m counting the days until my child rests in my arms instead of kicking every second of the day, more if he feels his father's hands on my stomach.”
Laughing, Lucilla took a turn to rub the young lady’s bump, “Lucius was the same way; nothing could soothe him until a lullaby was sung.”
As Lucilla turned her sight behind Arabella, she noticed the man who she assumed was Arabella’s husband.
“Sweet girl, why don’t you introduce me to your husband? I assume he is the father, yes?” Lucilla requested, growing confused as the young man twitched and lowered his head to hide his face.
Arabella, growing nervous, gulped as she stared at her husband. Opening her mouth, she felt tongue-tied, “Yes, this is my husband-”
“Hello, Geta… I’m surprised you would be willing to step back into the palace,” interrupted Lucius, who was walking towards his mother and sister while glaring at the young man.
Geta raised his eyes, glaring back at Lucius; it allowed his hood to fall off. Lucilla gasped as her face paled like she saw a ghost, turning to Arabella, who furrowed her brows with worry. Arabella placed herself between the emperor and her husband, not wanting a fight to ensue. Geta took the opportunity to grasp his wife’s waist and pull her body to press against his.
“Hano… ah, I forgot it’s Emperor Lucius, now is it?” taunted Geta, smirking when Lucius growled in annoyance.
“Geta, enough,” commanded Arabella, shaking her head at her husband’s antics.
Lucilla and Lucius were both surprised to see how easily Geta backed down. Lucilla, wanting an answer, turned to Arabella.
“How… everyone in the Senate said they saw his head… Caracalla and Macrinus showed it off?” questioned Lucilla.
Arabella sighed as she began her tale of how they evaded being killed by Caracalla and their current life situations. After the lady’s tale, Lucius shook his head in disbelief before turning to the former emperor.
“You know, in any other situation, I would have had the guards arrest you against the crimes you did on my mother and stepfather, but I grew to care for Arabella because of my mother. I know how much my sister has sacrificed for Rome and my mother. Consider yourself lucky, Geta, that I am a forgiving man. I will pardon you injustices…” started Lucius.
“I have two conditions for his pardon…” continued Lucius, watching as Geta and Arabella nodded.
“One, Arabella, do not call me imperator. We are siblings; call me brother. Second, Geta is banned from ever joining the Senate. I will be gracious and not place the ban on any nieces or nephews, but you can never step foot in the Senate. Do I make myself clear?” said Lucius.
Arabella and Geta nodded, feeling grateful; while Geta did not mind being banned from the Senate, it was never his passion. As the couple left, Lucilla asked Arabella to visit often and to keep her updated on her pregnancy, expressing her desire to be there during Arabella's birthing. Agreeing, the couple left for their Villa peacefully, excited and nervous for the future.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Screaming could be heard from a room as Arabella pushed with all her might. Collapsing on her bed, Arabella tiredly exhaled as she tried to catch her breath, preparing for another contraction to hit. Lucilla, holding her daughter’s hand, soothed the tired mother.
“There, my sweet girl, you are doing so well. Just a few more, Ara… you baby wants to greet you,” she consoled the young woman.
Nodding, Arabella took a deep breath as she pushed all her might, feeling sweat fall down her forehead. Taking another breath and pushing again, wishing her child could just leave her body.
Outside the room, in the living area, paced Geta, growing nervous with each scream coming from his wife. Lucius watched in amusement as he watched a man feared by Rome be reduced to a nervous wreck. Turning to the floor, he ruffled a tuff of ginger-colored hair. Gaius, who just turned four, raised his head from his toy soldier to playfully glare at his uncle. Lucius chuckled. His nephew looked so much like his father, but that glare was all his mother. A smaller wail joined the air as another yell broke out, making Lucius rise and Geta freeze.
Lucilla came out with a bright smile: "A beautiful little girl with the same face as her mother and her father’s fiery locks.”
As the men sighed, their relief was short-lived. They heard Arabella let out another yell, with the midwife exclaiming that another babe was on their way. Lucilla turned and quickly returned inside to help the young mother. Fifteen painfully long minutes passed before a little boy let his arrival know with a loud shout.
“He has a pair of lungs,” commented Lucius, watching as Geta held his daughter, watching her as if she were the world's most precious jewel.
Arabella smiled as she caressed her youngest son. They were perfect. While her daughter followed suit like her older brother in having fiery locks. Her youngest held brown curls much like her own. Gaius was in his grandmother’s arms, looking at his young siblings. Scrunching his nose, he sniffed and looked at his mother: " They are too pink.”
Laughing, Lucilla kissed the young boy, “They just came out of your mother. You were as pink as them when you were born, my love. They will soon change after a few days.”
Lucius grinned as he kissed Arabella’s forehead, “How are you, sister?”
“Tired, but I would do it all over again for them….that does not mean you can touch me, Geta. You will wait another four years before you touch me.” Commented Arabella, playfully glaring at her husband once she saw his mischievous smile.
“Do they have names?” questioned Lucilla.
Arabella nodded, “Yes, our daughter will be named Carmella Julia, and our son… he is Marcus Maximus…”
As the twins' names were spoken, both children opened their eyes to stare at their parents. Geta’s throat dried up as tears welled in his eyes. His daughter had the brightest blue eyes, just like Caracalla. Kissing his daughter, Geta nuzzled her tuff of ginger hair.
Lucius and Lucilla smiled tearfully as they stared at the youngest of the three. Soon, the Emperor and Empress left the family of five. As the three youngest slept soundly, Geta scooped up his wife and kissed her neck. Arabella giggled at being tickled, returning a kiss.
“Thank you, my love,” Geta whispered as he nuzzled his face to his wife’s neck.
“For what, my love,” pondered Arabella, caressing her husband’s cheek.
“For loving me, for fighting for me… for never giving up on me, on us… I truly don’t deserve you,” confessed Geta.
Arabella smiled, cradling her husband's face; she kissed him before whispering on his lips, “I was always meant to be yours, your lady. No matter where or whichever life, I will always come to you, My Geta.”
Summary: Betrayals are ramped. Lucilla and Marcella unite to save a lady dear to them. Leaving Arabella to give Emperor Geta one last Ultimatum. Which will he choose?
After an hour, Arabella and Geta saw Caracalla finally calming down and his eyes starting to droop with sleep. Both helped up the younger twin and led him to his chambers. Geta took the liberty of placing his younger brother on his bed and covering him up. In a moment of vulnerability soothed the ginger’s hair.
Sighing, he leaned away from his brother, turning back to Arabella, who stood at the front of the chamber door. Walking towards her, Geta grasped her waist, pressing a chaste kiss on her lips.
“The sickness from his loins has started to travel to his head… every day, he seems to worsen, Arabella; I don’t know what to do with him,” Geta whispered, turning to watch as Caracalla snuggled further into his sheets.
Arabella stared at the younger, feeling pity for his deteriorating health. Turning back to her emperor, she rubbed his arms and kissed his exposed chest.
“Just keep doing what you have been, my love, showing him compassion and patience. It's all we can do to keep him comfortable,” she replied, sincerely smiling.
The two lovers left to return to their chambers, not noticing someone in the background waiting to implant more of his poison.
Macrinus crept into Caracalla’s chamber, watching the younger tossed and turned before noticing the older man.
“Ah, my imperator, apologies for disturbing you after a hectic night; I just wanted to check on you… especially after I heard your brother struck you.”
Caracalla sat up, notching his head to the side. “Yes, but Arabella was lovely to me and defended me from my brother… I miss the times when she and I were close.”
Macrinus nodded, sitting on the bed, pondering before turning his attention back, “You two were close before, yes? What Changed? Once she started paying more attention to Geta? Poor girl, spending many years yearning for someone who always kept her at a distance… Where here you were always willing to be hers… Did you not notice that once you seemed more interested in Arabella, Geta came and swooped her from your grasp?”
Caracalla nodded with wide eyes; what Macrinus had spoken about was true. He and Arabella were closer during their younger years… and Geta constantly humiliated her. And yes, after he showed interest that he wanted Arabella, his brother suddenly reciprocated the lady’s love. Why? Did Geta do it on purpose?
Macrinus smirked, seeing his words taking root, “I bet if Arabella had experienced your love, she would all but forgotten about Geta. Everything has always been for Geta, but what about you… what about Caracalla? Think about it, my emperor… I shall leave you to think… pleasant dreams.”
Macrinus bowed before leaving Caracalla alone in the dark, his mind racing.
As the next day came upon the room, the mood seemed somber. Knowing what today entailed, Arabella did not have the energy to rise from her slumber. As she awoke, she quivered before nestling herself further into Geta’s arms. Wishing the embrace from her lover would take away the pain from her heart. Unfortunately, it did not; as Geta rose, he knew her predicament and decided to leave her in the palace. The healer stressed Arabella needed to remain calm for their child, and he did not want to be the cause of any distress.
As the emperor prepared for the day’s games, dressing in colors inspired by Apollo, he shook his hands to steady his nerves. Turning back to his bed, he saw his love lying on his cushions. She looked like a goddess. Walking to her, Geta raised her head, making the young lady stare at each other's eyes.
“I’m sorry, my love, but it has to be done.” he apologized, hoping she understood why he had to execute her surrogate parents.
Arabella closed her eyes, allowing a lone tear to fall as she nodded, knowing even if she protested , she knew that nothing could be done to change his mind.
Geta smiled and deeply kissed his lady, “I love you, my sweet girl.”
Eyes filled with tears, Arabella returned a smile to Geta, “and I adore you, My Geta.”
Her words encouraged him as Geta pressed one more kiss and left for the Colosseum.
Arabella shakily exhaled, rising from the bed to change into a gown. As she slowly combed her hair, Marcella entered the room, giving her a small smile as the older woman prepared her.
“How are you, sweet one?” asked the handmaiden.
Arabella gulped, trying not to cry, “In torment, the man I love is signing the death warrant on the two people who cared for me all these years. I should hate him… but I can’t … I adore him, Marcella; it is why I kept my distance all those years; I have always loved him.”
Marcella paused her work, staring at her lady with sympathy; she embraced the young woman’s shoulders. “Oh, my sweet girl, I wish I could help you save them…alas, General Acacius was kept under the Colosseum; he is to fight a group of guards and then a gladiator named Hano.”
Arabella's eyes shook as Marcella’s voice blended into the background as she realized Lucius was not aiming for her or the emperors; he wanted Acacius. Lucius was going to kill the man she considered more her father than her actual father.
Turning, Arabella questioned, “and Lucilla, what awaits for her?”
Marcella shook her head, “I do not know yet. All I know is that she must watch Acacius’s death beside the emperors.”
Nodding, not knowing what else to do, Arabella allowed her handmaiden to finish her work. All day, Arabella worried for her lady and for her emperor. Her mind pounded as the two sides of her heart fought. Sighing and rubbing her head, Arabella jumped when she heard a commotion outside the palace. Walking towards the window, she watched in shock as the people of Rome began to riot.
Walking away, she peeked into the hallways, seeing nervous servants and concubines run around. Noticing Marcella running towards her, she reentered her chambers.
“What has happened?” She whispered, growing more on edge with the people’s shouts.
“The people are rioting; Hano did not want to execute Acacius, so Geta had him shot to death. Hano then gave a speech about how Rome treats its heroes. The emperors should be on their way back. Arabella, you need to flee, it’s not safe.”
Arabella shook her head, “No, I need to stay here… I need-”
“No, I understand you love him, but please, for your survival, you must leave him behind, sweet one. Do not throw your life for him.” Marcella countered.
Arabella pushed herself away. “No… I can’t… I’m…Marcella. I’m with a child, Geta’s child. I cannot abandon the father of my child,” she whispered, tears falling down my cheeks.
Marcella eyes softened, “Oh my girl, what trouble have you placed yourself in… If Lucilla were free, she could have helped you.”
“But she is not Marcella. Please save yourself…thank you for helping me all these years.” Arabella thanked Marcella, kissing the older woman’s hands.
Marcella shook her head, “Please, Ara, come with me…” she pleaded.
Arabella denied her again, “No… I must stay… Now go, quick…”
Sniffing, the handmaiden kissed her lady’s cheek as she ran, leaving through the servant's path to flee the palace. Seeing the crowd angry, trying to break from the guards.
Marcella thought of a way to save her lady. Lady Lucilla would be given up as a sacrifice, a last stitch to make the people heel. Rome needs Lucilla to lead them on the right path. Lucilla has always protected Arabella. Making her choice, the servant ran to the Dungeons, hiding as she saw Macrinus laughing as he walked away from Lucilla.
“I will make Rome my own… and you will be nothing by forgotten history.” Macrinus taunted as he left to continue his plan to take hold of the power he thought rightfully belonged to him.
Marcella sneered at the thought; walking towards the chamber, she broke the lock and opened the door.
Lucilla, hearing her chamber open, turned to see a servant.
Bowing, Marcella said, “My lady, I am Lady Arabella’s handmaiden. I have come to release you from your prison.
Lucilla smiled and thanked the woman, “My Arabella… is she safe?”
Marcella shook her head, causing Lucilla to panic, “Caracalla and Macrinus are plotting against Geta; she will be in danger… We need to help her.”
Lucilla bit her lip, “There is an army outside of Rome, waiting for my husband’s command… I will go in his place to take Rome back from Caracalla and Macrinus. I know Arabella will survive; she is smart, but I cannot leave right now. They will be coming for me tomorrow.”
Marcella nodded, “I know, my lady, that’s why I am here… I am taking your place. Go now. Assemble your army. I will die in your place… just please promise me you will do everything to keep Arabella safe.”
As Lucilla and Marcella switched clothes and places, Lucilla confirmed Marcella’s wish, “I will always protect her… Thank you, Marcella, for keeping my sweet girl safe all these years. Thank you for helping Rome.”
Marcella, through tears, smiled, bowing to the former empress, “I will do it again and again, for Arabella… for Rome… and her child.”
Lucilla gasped but nodded, understanding the severity of the situation. She rushed out to meet Lucius before leaving for the army, who anxiously awaited their command.
Chaos remained in the palace as servants, nobles, and guards ran throughout. As Arabella inhaled and exhaled to relax her breathing, Geta rushed into the chambers.
Arabella turned and ran towards his arms, “Geta! Oh, I’m so relieved. I was afraid something might have happened… where’s Caracalla?”
Geta wrapped his lady into his arms, kissing her forehead. “He has gotten worse, my love; I had to walk away, or I would have done something I would regret. I understand he is scared, but he is becoming too erratic…”
Arabella furrowed her brows in confusion about Caracalla’s behavior; something must be causing it.
“Who is he with my love? Surely he's not on his own right now?” she questioned.
Geta shrugged, “I think Macrinus was close by… why?”
Arabella contemplated before she froze. Caracalla had been closer to Macrinus, and ever since that man, Caracalla’s behaviors had worsened. Could he be the cause? She thought.
“Geta… Macrinus, what if he is-” Arabella was interrupted as an Actor burst into the chambers.
Geta, gathering Arabella into his arms, sneered at the actor dressed similarly to him.
“What are you doing in here? You are not allowed to enter my chambers-”
“I apologize, Augustus, but I had to warn you… that man…Macrinus is poisoning your brother towards you… I heard him speak words conspiring against you… you must flee!” warned the actor.
Geta shook his head, not wanting to believe, “No, My brother and I have always been one. He would never-”
Arabella pulled Geta’s arm, interrupting her lover defending his brother.
“Geta, I have a bad feeling; we need to flee, please my love…”
Geta pushed her away, shaking his head, “No, Caracalla is a loyal brother. He would never…”
Everyone in the room froze as Caracalla’s and Macrinus's voices came closer.
Arabella pulled Geta into a false wall, pressing him into the wall as she flushed her body to him.
Caracalla entered the room, searching for his brother and lady. Seeing only his brother, he raised his dagger. “Brother, you lied. You said we would always be one… that our empire would be ours, that the people would be ours, but you lied to me, brother.”
“Geta”, shook his head, “I have never lied, Caracalla… I have never once conspired against you, brother. Please...”
Caracalla growled, stalking towards “Geta” with Macrinus close behind, “Yes, you lie! You replaced me with Arabella! You do not even love her! You always were cruel to her, keeping her at a distance. I love her, and you selfishly took her from me! You always take from me, even in the womb!”
Arabella closed her eyes, pressing further into Geta’s body as her lover shook, hearing such hate come from his brother’s mouth.
“No, Caracalla, it's not tru-” gasped “Geta” as Macrinus led Caracalla to slice his neck, blood gushing as both men hackled off “Geta’s” head from his body.
“He can no longer hurt you, my emperor,” Macrinus watched in fascination.
Caracalla numbly looked at his brother's head, “What about Arabella?”
Macrinus hummed, searching the room for any sign of the girl.
“Worry not; I shall find her and bring her to you. She will be your empress. She will see your kindness and mercy by making you her empress. She will not deny you,” soothed Macrinus, raising the younger twin.
“Now, let us call a Senate meeting; we need to make several changes…” commanded Macrinus, leading Caracalla out before turning and taking “Geta’s” head.
Arabella slowly peeked outside the false wall, seeing both men gone, and sighed in relief before stepping out. Geta followed, numb from what had taken place. Gagging, Arabella turned away from the body as she stared at her Geta, who had tears flowing down his cheeks.
“Oh, my love… I’m so sorry…” She whispered, walking towards him.
Geta shook his head in disbelief. “I have always defended him… how can he despise me so easily?”
Arabella shook her head, grabbing his arm, “I do not know, but we can’t stay here; he thinks you are dead and wants to make me his empress… we need to leave.”
“No, I need to get my brother back, bring him back to reason… we are twins, Arabella… we can’t…”
“Geta, you said so yourself; Caracalla’s sickness is harming his mind… that is not your brother anymore… please Geta, come with me.”
Geta stepped back, watching as Arabella's face fell, tears falling down her cheeks. “I need to Ara…”
Arabella felt 15 again, pleading for her prince, no, her emperor, to choose her. She felt again being pushed away. Taking a deep breath, she decided it would end here.
Emperor and Lady, at an arm's distance from each other, stared at one another. Arabella gave her lover her final plea, her final ultimatum: “Geta… My Geta, I am going to ask you one last time. I cannot do this again. Please, my love, choose me. Choose our child. Choose our love. Come with me… I will not ask again… I will leave. I will protect my- our baby with or without you.”
Geta closed his eyes. His emotions mixed, and he felt powerless, but as he opened his eyes and stared at his lady, he made his choice… he chose her… he chose their child.
Geta nodded as Arabella sobbed in relief, walking into his arms. Arabella kissed her love, pouring all her passion into the kiss. After a minute, she separated her lips from him.
“Quickly, take some gold and treasures and follow me. We will use the servant's pathways.”
The two quickly filled a bag with valuables and left the chambers, trading their fine clothes for servants' clothes and sneaking out of the palace. As they crossed the pavilion, One Senator stepped into their path. Halting, Arabella whispered in shock and worry.
“Uncle…”
Arabella's Uncle stared in shock… his niece was with the supposed dead Emperor Geta.
I don’t like leaving comments cause internet anonymity. But your latest story with arabella and geta has me on edge. I hope you continue writing it. ITS SO GOOD, I’m literally crying my eyes out! I live for the angst.
Thank you! I will definitely finish; I feel a little bad because I had my HOTD fanfic waiting, but my hyper-fixation went full throttle on Gladiator 2. Get ready for more angst.
PS: to my HOTD Fans: I have not abandoned Benjicot and Aemma. Once I am done with Arabella and Geta, get ready for more angst for HOTD
PSS: I will probably also write more Gladiator 2 fanfiction. Caracalla needs love, too!
Summary: Arabella and Geta's reconnection brings more changes, leading to tensions from the Gladiator games and impending betrayal. Both Geta and Arabella are unsure of their future.
If the court thought Emperor Geta would become softer after reconnecting with Arabella, they were wrong and right. While there were times when Geta acted kinder, those times were shown as more patience for the servants and towards his brother. As well as pushing away his previous concubines, for Geta had no use for them anymore, not when he had his lady ready to please him whenever he wanted her. Even with his softness, Geta was still ruthless in the Senate. Just yesterday, Geta threw a vase to a Senator who suggested his granddaughter as a potential empress—shouting that he would not be told when he and his brother should marry.
At the end of the day, Geta always returns to his chambers, where Arabella greets him with a kind smile that reaches her eyes and shows the dimples on her cheeks. Allowing himself to shed the burden of being an emperor, Geta would gather his love, pressing a firm kiss on her mouth—the night ending with the two in bed, their bodies connecting again. The lady kissed her emperor sweetly on his mouth after the nightly activities, whispering affirmations of her love to him as her emperor would draw patterns on her shoulders.
Soon, the time came for the games to recommence, and the buzz was for the water battle scene to be presented to Rome's people. As Geta prepared himself, he watched Arabella’s handmaiden, which he recognized as his old concubine, Marcella, ready her lady. He puffed his chest with pride as he saw his lady's garments for today; he had commissioned a particular piece for Arabella. He wanted her to match him at the games perfectly. To shine just as bright as he would, as he placed his golden laurel crown, he watched his lady place her veil on. Feeling she was not yet adorned enough, Geta walked to his chest at the corner of his chamber, rummaging through the tressures until he found the one he was looking for. Grinning, He rose, turning back to his lady as she stared curiously.
“Place this on top of your veil.” Commanded Geta as he placed the golden tiara on Arabella.
Arabella reached up to steady the tiara and gasped, recognizing it; it was his late mother, Empress Julia Domna’s tiara.
“Geta…my love, are you sure?” she asked, knowing what people would assume should she wear it.
“Yes, I want everyone to know your place at my side,” affirmed Geta, leaning down to kiss her neck.
Arabella shuddered at being tickled by his kiss, nodded, and pinned the tiara in place. Standing, she turned to her emperor.
“As my Geta wishes of me, I shall follow,” she announced, intentionally changing the title from imperator to his name, kissing him at the corner of his mouth.
Grinning, Geta extended his arm, leading them out to the courtyard, where they would meet Caracalla down by the chariots.
Seeing Arabella, Caracalla widened his eyes. Turning to his brother, he asked Geta, “Isn’t that mother’s tiara?”
“Yes, brother, what a keen eye you have.” Geta taunted cooly, staring at the younger twin.
Worried about a possible fight, Arabella moved past her transgression to Caracalla and smiled at him.
“Your monkey looks wonderful today, Imperator. What is his name?” she softly asked, happy that both brothers snapped away from their internal battle to face the lady.
Caracalla gave her a broad smile, bringing his monkey in front. “Isn’t he just wonderful? His name is Dundus, the magnificent!” exclaimed Caracalla, showcasing his monkey.
Arabella smiled back, “Yes, quite magnificent.” looking back at Geta, who snorted, rolling his eyes at his brother’s antics.
Kissing her cheek, Geta pushed her onto his chariot, waiting for Caracalla to climb into his own as the three rode off to the Colosseum.
Again, a crowd was waiting for the emperors to arrive in their box; Lucilla and Acacius worried, not having seen Arabella in weeks. Their worries briefly subdued seeing her walking with the twins but then growing cold seeing what was on top of her head. Senators and concubines, too, stared in shock at Arabella. Her uncle and father shared a mischievous smirk. Growing shy from the attention, Arabella lowered her eyes, not wanting to make eye contact with her surrogate parents. Macrinus, looking at the people’s reactions, decided to be the brave one and ask the question everyone had at the tip of their tongues.
“Emperor Geta, Emperor Caracalla welcome… my, my Concubine Arabella-”
“Lady Arabella… she is to be addressed as Lady Arabella, Macrinus.” Sneered Geta, growing annoyed at the man’s blatant disrespect towards his lady and, in turn, him.
“My apologies, Augustus, Lady Arabella…that is a lovely tiara you have on today,” Macrinus commented, inclined his head to the right as he took in the young lady’s appearance.
After feeding his monkey, Caracalla answered Macrinus, not realizing what his words meant, “Yes, it was my mother’s tiara...”
The crowd quietly gasped as they stared at Emperor Geta and his lady in his arms. Not wanting to explain, Geta walked down the steps, seating Arabella behind him before continuing to his own.
As everyone realized no clear answer would be provided, they, too, entered the royal box, with Lucilla sitting on the far right, away from Arabella. Arabella raised her eyes, trying to make eye contact with her lady and the general, but she was ignored. Feeling a flash of hurt, her eyes filled with tears as she shakily inhaled, bringing her eyes to her hands on her lap. She felt conflicted; on the one hand, she was finally happy to reconnect with Geta and enjoy his love…. On the other, she felt like she was disappointing the two people who she always strived to make proud. She felt like she was losing her parents.
Once the battle began, Arabella raised her sight, trying to distract herself. As the boats clashed with each other, being led by Lucius, Arabella started to feel ill from the stench of blood mixing with the water. The crowd cheers rang in her ears; Arabella closed her eyes, stifling a gag as another gladiator was slain. Geta briefly turned back, seeing her looking unwell. He wanted to check on her but did not want to show his vulnerability.
“Arabella, bring me more wine... " he ordered, hoping his lady would follow without a fuss so she could be near him.
Inhaling, the young lady rose with a jug of wine and a cup. Walking down the steps, she crouched between the two brothers as she poured for Geta. Geta, leaning towards her, was about to ask her what was bothering her when someone shouted, “Watch out!”
Everyone turned towards the battle, and all seemed to be moving slowly. They saw Lucius or Hano turn to the crowd and notch an arrow with his crossbow. While to many, it looked like he was aiming for the emperors, Marcus Acacius knew it was aiming for him. Moving Lucilla behind him, Acacius watched in horror as a gladiator shoved against Luicus, causing the young man’s arrow to change from heading towards him to Caracalla’s throne, right where Arabella stood.
“No!” Shouted Acacius as Arabella's eyes dilated with fear.
Geta turned to grab his lady, pulling her roughly on his lap as she dropped the jug of wine, causing it to spill all over them. Then, moving at the speed of light, the arrow landed at the golden post of Caracalla’s throne as the younger emperor screamed in horror. Terrified, Arabella looked at Lucius, who looked remorsefully at her but glared at Acacius; the arrow was meant for him.
“Praetorians!” shouted Geta as he stood, holding Arabella in his arms. Lucilla, shocked at what happened, turned to Acacius and then to Arabella, worried that the arrow might have grazed her surrogate daughter. She gasped, seeing the young lady’s face sickly pale. Geta, Arabella, and Caracalla quickly left the royal box, safely entering deeper into the Colosseum. Arabella, feeling sick, lightly pushed Geta away from her, walking away from the crowd; she crouched into herself, gagging as she tried to calm herself. As Caracalla and Geta finished shouting their orders, Geta turned to find Arabella leaning on the wall. As he walked towards her, he froze as he saw her gag one more time before throwing up. Worried that the wine might have been poisoned, he gathered her in his arms. He commanded his guards to return them to the palace and for a healer to be brought into his chamber. Both emperors hastily left the crowd as they all stared at the lady with fear. Should she perish, they feared what Geta would unleash on the realm.
Once at the Palace, Geta continued to carry Arabella toward his chambers, placing her gently on their bed as he allowed the healer to assess the young lady. After a few minutes, Arabella woke to see Geta pacing. The healer saw the lady awake and smiled at her as he leaned away.
Horsely, Arabella called for Geta as she raised her arms to him. Hearing his name, the emperor turned, running to her arms as he took off the tiara and placed it beside them. Once he saw no physical damage to her, he turned to the healer.
“Well… what caused her to become sick and faint?” questioned Geta.
The healer, the same one from years past, smiled at the lady, feeling a sense of deja vu, but only this time he was sure the outcome would be different.
“The stress and blood of the games caused strain on Lady Arabella, but do not worry; everything is perfectly well. I suggest my lady take it easy these next few days, as it is still early. We must not place too much stress on your body, lest it harm your babe.” concluded the healer.
Arabella inhaled, shocked as she touched her current flat belly. Geta choked on his saliva as he processed the words.
“Are you saying… Arabella is carrying my child?” He asked, looking down at his lover’s stomach.
“Yes, Augustus, our lady is once more carrying the heir to the throne. I congratulate you both, but I must urge you to be extra careful this time so there will be no stress for the lady.” stressed the healer as he rose, bowing to them and leaving the expecting parents alone.
Arabella, although fearful, allowed a smile to grow on her face. A baby, she was to be a mother again. Lifting her eyes to Geta, she caressed her lover’s face, causing him to face her.
“Geta…are you upset?” she questioned, worried Geta would not be happy with the news.
Geta snorted at the ridiculous notion, “How could I be upset, sweet girl? You are making me a father again; this time, our son will be welcomed alive into this world; I will not let any harm come to him or you.”
Geta leaned to kiss Arabella, who turned her face away, causing the emperor to growl in annoyance.
“Geta, I threw up; you should not kiss me.” she gently explained.
“I care not.” he countered, firmly taking her into his arms and passionately kissing her. As the lover kissed, Geta, allowing himself to be vulnerable again, whispered promises to his lady.
“I shall marry you… you will be my lawful wife… my empress… our child will be the beloved prince.”
His promises made Arabella's heart swell, shedding tears; she deepened the kiss, pouring all her love into the kisses. The remainder of the day saw the emperor and lady shed their clothes as they again connected their passion through the dance of their bodies. Ending with each other's embrace into slumber. Alas, their sleep was cut short, for guards began pounding at the door. Quickly, Arabella threw on a robe to cover her modesty, as did Geta, before opening his door.
“What has possessed you to”
“Imperator, there has been a conspiracy found against you and your brother, a means to usurper you!” shouted the guard.
Geta's body grew rigid, the shock of the news leaving him speechless before he quickly turned to Arabella.
“Arabella, come, " he ordered before turning to the guards. “Bring me my brother, and bring the traitors to us.”
Arabella quickly pressed herself to Geta as the two left his chambers and entered another chamber. Only wearing his bedsheet, Caracalla soon joined them as Macrinus walked in.
“My imperator, pardon my intrusion; I have discovered and brought the traitors to you,” Macrinus said, explaining while guards brought the person in.
As the hood was pulled off, Arabella gasped in horror, looking away and pressing her face to Geta’s chest. There, in his glory, knelt General Marcus Acacius.
“General Acacius, you treachery shall-”
“Please, Emperor Geta, Torture me if you must, but do not lecture me.” scolded Acacius as he silently watched his surrogate daughter sob.
Geta grew angry, not only because he was interrupted by the General but also because he was causing grief to his lover. He knew how close the two were, and seeing his lady’s reaction, he knew she was as shocked by the betrayal as he was.
Caracalla shouted, grabbed a sword, and ran to stab the general, exclaiming how they would crucify Lucilla. Geta, releasing Arabella, rushed to his brother, stopping him from committing a drastic act. Pulling him away, he ordered the guards to remove the general and arrest Lucilla. Arabella stayed behind while Macrinus followed the emperors.
“Wait, Praetorians!” shouted Arabella as she walked forward.
The guards paused, inclining their heads in respect. Arabella, looking at Acacius, ordered the guards to walk a few feet away and turn their backs. The guards followed the orders of the future empress.
Once Arabella was sure no eyes were on her, she knelt infront of Acacius; touching his cheek, she opened her mouth to ask a question… but no sound came.
Acacius, knowing her torment, shook his head. “Whatever outcome comes, little one, know that I always have and will care for you like you were my daughter, and I cannot fault you for your actions to protect yourself. All I ask is that you continue to think of your survival; do not allow yourself to be blinded or lead to your doom.”
Crying, Arabella nodded her head, not entirely sure what his words meant. She leaned to place a soft kiss on the general’s cheek, and she apologized.
“I’m sorry, papa, I could not save you,” she whispered.
Acacius, too, let tears fall from his eyes. “No, do not apologize, my dear. I hold no grudge against you. Protect yourself, my daughter, even now. Go to the emperor, but slap me before you go so that no one can use this interaction against you.” he pleaded.
Sobbing more, Arabella nodded, kissing her surrogate father goodbye; she stood, riling her hand back, and slapped the general’s cheek with all her force. Just as Geta came back looking for her, watching the interaction in shock.
“Praetorians, take him to the dungeons…” She ordered.
“Yes, empress,” shouted the guards as they took the disgraced general away.
Turning away, Arabella inhaled to control her breathing while rubbing her belly as Geta met her, pulling her into his arms. Geta kissed his lady’s crown as he led her towards where Caracalla was still trashing. Flinching at the younger twin's tantrum, Geta released her, grabbing his brother.
“Calm yourself, brother, let this episode pass,” grunted Geta as he struggled with Caracalla’s trashing, forcing him to drink a cup filled with wine and a sedative to calm him. Caracalla grew angry and tried to bite his brother, which caused Geta to become upset and slap Caracalla.
Arabella drew a sharp breath before scolding her lover. “Geta!”
Walking to Caracalla, Arabella no longer saw a 24-year-old man cowering but the fourteen-year-old prince who welcomed 11-year-old Arabella to the palace all those years ago. A shy 14 - 15-year-old boy who used to call her sister before becoming cruel and began tormenting her. She saw the boy she thought would become her closest ally to play pranks against Geta playfully. As Caracalla held his cheek sobbing, he watched as Arabella knelt before him, reaching to caress his cheek.
“Hush, sweet boy, he did not mean to strike you; he is just as nervous and upset by the betrayal as you. Shh, brother, don’t take it to heart.” She soothed the younger twin.
Being reminded of when his mother used to comfort him, Caracalla placed himself in Arabella's arms, sniffing.
“Sister, why does Geta hate me so…?” he questioned.
Arabella glared at her lover, who lowered his eyes in shame for striking his brother. “Hush, such nonsense, sweet boy. You know that Geta does not hate you; sleep now.” She soothed, allowing the younger to take liberties with cuddling into her embrace.
Geta, allowing himself to relax, knelt next to Arabella, gathering her in his arms as the three embraced, wanting each other’s comfort… fearing and wondering what tomorrow might bring.
ellievsbear
yousharknotpass
dailybridgerton
tangentwithtanner
