Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/12969627.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence, Major_Character_Death, Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      One_Direction_(Band)
  Relationship:
      Antinous/Emperor_Hadrian, Emperor_Hadrian/Alexander_the_Great, Emperor
      Hadrian/Damianos, Auron/Destruction_and_Chaos_lol
  Character:
      Emperor_Hadrian, Alexander_the_Great, Auron_Aelius, Antinous, Marcius,
      Martin_Guerin, Liam_Payne, Zayn_Malik, Harry_Styles, Louis_Tomlinson,
      Azazel, Harlock_Lawson, Jenner_Cromwell
  Additional Tags:
      Vampires, Ancient_Rome, Historical_References, plus_-_Freeform,
      Historical_Inaccuracy, French_Revolution, Dacian_Wars, Death, Smut,
      Violence, sometimes_hand_in_hand_lol, Betrayal, Mental_Instability, Loss
  Series:
      Part 4 of Love_Endless
  Stats:
      Published: 2017-12-10 Updated: 2018-02-09 Chapters: 5/? Words: 31992
****** Love Endless (Bridge to Barbarity) ******
by wubwubnparmaham
Summary
     We all know now what happened in the 70's, but what about before?
     Long, long before that? Have you ever wondered what Hadrian's life
     was before Alexander? After Alexander but before his return as Louis?
     Even Alexander has pondered these things; after all, Hadrian could be
     quite elusive regarding his past. As anyone would.
     Come with me one last time as we dive into the other side of the
     journal entries, the other side of the world, the other side of our
     known timeline. To a period when Hadrian's greatest love went only by
     one name, to the beginnings of his familiar friendships, and the loss
     of his eternal light.
     Hadrian will experience a great many hardship in his unpredictable
     life, some you've only briefly heard of, but now you'll see them
     all—live them all alongside him. Pay witness to the rise and fall of
     Hadrian and his brother Auron again and again and again as the one
     left behind seeks to destroy the other in the greatest, most
     emotional battle of history—until they reach end we all know their
     path leads to—but that won't change shit in this present time, will
     it?
     Love Endless
     [Book 4/4]
Notes
     If you're here right now, you're a TRUE fan of the Love Endless verse
     and I appreciate you more than I can say. Welcome back.
     I didn't even know if I could put this in the 1d fandom. It certainly
     won't be read by random directioners, that's for sure. This is just
     for you guys. Hope you enjoy this last run. I know I will, I just
     need you to be lenient with me again. I promise it'll be worth.
     SO YES, ya gay boy's back. With more gay shit. But with this comes a
     few warnings?
     I did put underage in the warnings. This is because of Hadrian at 16.
     You remember what Louixander and him fought about in the Jerusalem
     alley? No? Accusations were made, I have here the real-time actions.
     Try to remember Roman boys were adults at 15 if that helps. All
     society is subjective constructs. Anywho, main character death is the
     most obvious thing on the fucking planet. We all know who dies. I
     WISH HE DIDN'T HAVE TO, BUT I DID THIS TO MY CHARACTERS IN THE FIRST
     PLACE.
     Don't expect fast uploads. I have about 5 chapters right now as of 9/
     12, but this isn't any kind of New Year's Resolution. It's not gonna
     be out that fast lol. Don't expect anything of me other than
     finishing this saga getting this entire volume out at some point. I
     used to be so fucking on top of my shit, where did that Jackson go?
     Aha, I'm sorry.
     I love you all, and it's really it this time. See you next time.
See the end of the work for more notes
***** What's Wrong With my Brother? *****
“Whatcha lookin’ at, Hayway?” Auron asked, dropping down to sit on his heels as
he peered over his brother’s shoulder into the pond he was so intensely
studying. In their eight years of life, soon to be nine, Hadrian had always
been the one to find the most fascination with silly things, and this was no
doubt another example of that trait.
“Swimming frogs,” Hadrian answered, sniffing incessantly from his outdoor
allergies and pointing to the little creatures skittering across the calm
water’s surface.
“Why?” Auron giggled, teasing his twin by almost pushing him straight into the
water before pulling him back further onto the pebbled shore.
“Auree!” Hadrian cried, fending off his bully of a brother and then whining
when he found his water froggies had left in a hurry from all the sudden
movement. “Look what you did!” he accused, angrily crossing his arms and
putting on his best pouting face; a face that had never gotten him anywhere to
date, but he wouldn’t ever give it up until it did.
“They’ll be back,” Auron reasoned, tucking a strand of matted hair behind his
ear as he clumsily sat down on the tiny stones beneath them. “We have to go to
the feast, remember?” he asked, revealing the details of his mission in that
one question. Auron was constantly asked where his brother was, and because he
was the only one who ever knew where to look, he always knew just where to find
him. The adults depended on him for it, and this very conversation had occurred
a countless number of times.
“I don’t even know why I have to go. You’re gonna be Emperor, not me,” Hadrian
sighed, throwing himself backward until he was sprawled out like the very water
frogs he enjoyed to study, squinting his eyes from the harsh sun that burned
into them.
“Because you’re my brother!” Auron said, flattening himself out on his stomach
beside said twin and allowing himself just a few minutes of relaxation. “You
know I can’t do anything without you,” he added, scooting closer and finding
great comfort in just touching the sides of their legs together.
“You’ll have to do a lot without me,” Hadrian said, cracking one eye open to
look over at his disappointed brother and then flipping over to console that
expression. “I love you, Auree. You can do this,” he encouraged, smiling
brightly and patting his brother on his sun-kissed back.
“I know I have to...but sometimes I wish you would be Emperor,” Auron
confessed, knowing he’d be so much happier if he could just support his brother
in his place and not have to worry about the whole Empire being in his hands.
Hadrian thought that over and frowned, giving a sidelong smirk at Auron until
he noticed it and then attacking him with merciless tickles.
“Hayway, stop! Stop, please!” Auron begged, the both of them laughing like
loons as they struggled and wrestled around in the gravel for dominance. Auron
already knew it was hopeless; Hadrian was much stronger than him; so he gave up
early, making a clear surrender to end the fight. “That’s why you should be
Emperor. You’re so strong,” he said breathlessly, pushing himself up and
holding out a hand to help Hadrian to his feet.
“But you’re the smart one,” Hadrian said, fearless to readily admit he couldn’t
read or write like Auron could (he could, but not with such sophistication),
and he certainly didn’t understand the first thing about philosophy. “So you
could plan battles better. I’ll just fight for you—”
“No!” Auron said, swinging around to block Harian who had begun to diligently
walk back to the city walls. “I don’t ever want you to fight in a war under me.
You’re too important. I can’t let anything happen to you ever. You can’t fight,
you—”
“Auron, I’m going to be a soldier,” Hadrian persisted, in quite an
unquestionable manner, taking Auron’s wrists and forcefully removing them from
his shoulders. “Even if you are the Emperor, the council won’t ever let me live
without seeing battle. I’m the best of the trainees, and I’m your brother. I
could be a general. I'm going to be a general,” he said, groaning at the teary-
eyed look Auron suddenly possessed. “Please don’t cry, Auree. I’ll be so good
when we grow up, you’ll never need to worry about me at all. Trust me,” he
said, lacing his fingers with his brother’s and resuming their walk home.
“You better be,” Auron sniffed, trying to hide his face even if there was
absolutely no point to it. He didn’t like how emotional he got, especially in
front of his younger, more resilient brother, and that was a shame he simply
couldn’t overcome, no matter how comfortable they were with each other.
“How are you?” Hadrian asked to change the topic, not to a much better theme,
but something that fit the theme of the earlier one. “Have you been sad again?”
he asked, both boys painfully aware that the thing they pointedly hadn’t been
talking about probably required some attention.
“Not like that again, or you would know,” Auron sighed, letting go of Hadrian’s
hand to hug his arm as they walked instead. He hated thinking about that night,
and he hoped the feeling from then never returned—it had been a waking
nightmare.
Hadrian was just as on edge; he’d seen his brother scream and cry like Pluto
himself was tearing his limbs apart, and nothing in the world could console him
for a handful of wretched days...not even him. The monster had been not of skin
and bone, but inside Auron’s mind, tormenting him in a way that had seemed so
permanent and inescapable at the time, but had disappeared one morning when he
woke up.
Thing is, when he woke up, then it was the sadness. A deep, sorrowful sadness
that one normally only sees with the death of a comrade or family member. It
had been a seemingly incurable episode of woe that nearly had the power to blow
flames from candles and suck everything close to its core into darkness, and
Hadrian didn’t appreciate that core being his brother. It hadn’t been right.
Hadrian was a generally optimistic boy, but he’d be telling an untruth if he
said he wasn’t constantly wondering if it would ever come back. Would it stay
for good the next time? It couldn’t, of course, the Gods would not allow an
Emperor to endure such toil, but...he just...wondered sometimes.

---

“Auron! Hadrian! There you are,” Domitia Paulina, their mother, predictably
chastised, grabbing both of their hands and hurriedly walking them down the
grand hall of Palatine toward the triclinium to partake in the Emperor’s feast.
The Emperor, Trajan, was a maternal cousin to their father, Publius Afer, so a
lot hung from the balance of their behavior. It had to be good, or else.
“He was hard to find this time,” Auron lied, giving his brother a wink that
forced Hadrian to hold back laughter.
“I very much doubt that,” Paulina grumbled, looking over her shoulder at her
sons and tutting in judgment. “Would you just look at you two, you’re dirtier
than a pig’s pen. Have you been out by the pond again?” she asked, knowing at
the very least that the pond was one of Hadrian’s patterned hiding places. You
just never knew which cycled location he would be at any given time...
“No, the southern gardens,” Auron said, attempting to keep their special pond
as unsuspecting as possible. He didn’t want the grown-ups learning to go there
first, or it would lose its importance to his little brother. So far, their
mother had only found them there once, and he’d like to keep it that way.
“Well kindly don’t venture anywhere where you’ll attract dirt when you know you
have responsibilities,” Paulina sighed, turning back around and increasing her
pace to the triclinium.
“Yes, Mother,” the twins said in unison, smiling to each other and trying to
act serious as they were led through the heavy doors and into the loud event of
the Emperor’s feast. It was the same chaos it always was. The men of Rome were
laughing and cackling like fools, clinking goblets of wine together and
stumbling to and fro. The spillage of meats and bread littered the floor,
creating a mess the slaves would no doubt be put out to clean, but even they
looked happy on the sides of the room. It was a good day.
The long table covered with platters and dishes ended with Trajan at the head,
his council and closest advisors right after him, relatives to him, the most
notorious military leaders, and then those luckily invited taking up the rest
of the space, including scholars and even lowly but valued blacksmiths. Their
father was somewhere in the middle, with two empty spots beside him saved for
his sons.
“Afer,” their mother called down the table, catching many diners’ attentions
but luckily their father’s was included.
“Boys!” their father called, wiping the crumbs of bread from his lips as he
stood with open arms. “Come here, little Romans.”
Their mother gave them each a pat on the back and shooed them off to the table,
happily retreating to the wives’ tablinum where she could sit in peace from the
racket and enjoy mature conversation, especially with Plotina Pompeia, Trajan’s
wife and Empress of Rome, who happened to be her closest friend. Have fun in
the jungle, my darlings.
Auron hated every second of this, and Hadrian knew that well, so after running
up to the table and taking their seats, he held his hand under the table where
no one would see, giving him pats and strokes as the inevitable conversations
began.
“Where’ve you been, lads?” Afer asked, belching from the strength of the wine
and giving a sheepish smile.
“I went out hunting for snakes,” Hadrian said, leaving his water frogs where
they belonged in all his secrets so he wouldn’t be perceived as soft. He wasn’t
soft. He could fight and he could fight well, he just also enjoyed taking care
of and admiring the small and defenseless things in life. Can’t a warrior do
both?
“That’s my boy,” Afer laughed, along with the soldiers who had overheard
Hadrian’s confession. “Did you catch any?”
Hadrian shook his head. “No, Rome is safe,” he said, acting like his father’s
rough pats on his back didn’t hurt at all.
“Already on missions to eradicate danger. He will make a fine General, I can
promise you this,” Taepius Acilius vowed, the words from such a powerful Roman
official sending a blush to Afer’s cheeks.
Acilius was Hadrian’s personal mentor, who had begun meeting with him and only
him three times a week to help further his studies. It was a huge privilege to
receive such attention, and though Auron got the most lavish of it from even
higher up officials, Acilius taking responsibility for Hadrian did not go
unnoticed. The twins were treated like Gods.
“What would you know of his strength or skill?” Marcius guffawed from a few
seats down the other direction, also across from their side on the table. “I
know more than anyone how mighty of a force Hadrian will be in our military.”
“Such words for my son—I thank you,” Afer said gratefully, dropping his arm
around both his sons and pulling them in close.
And they were such words. Quintus Marcius Turbo was a prefect of the Praetorian
Guard, and Trajan’s closest military advisor, not to mention a close friend on
top of that. Both Marcius and Acilius’s words were gold, and Afer had never
looked jollier.
“Well someone unbeatable has to protect Auron when he takes the throne,”
Marcius reasoned, gnawing on a chicken bone to get the last of its meat off.
“Only fitting it be his twin brother. I hear that’s a tight bond.”
“I’ll protect everyone,” Hadrian vowed, making their section of the table laugh
with pride and pat him on the head if they were close enough.
“My fellow Romans!” Trajan called, enacting silence at once out of respect and
standing from his chair to be seen down the table. “Our expansion is seeing
more and more success. Our enemies cower, and run from the waves of our blades.
Soon, we will pass Bithynia, then we shall sweep Mesopotamia, and Babylonia,
and who’s to say the Parthians will stand any chance?” he cried, slamming his
goblet down to be filled and then holding it up for a toast as his company
hollered and cheered.
“Sweep the world!” a voice yelled in celebration, starting a chain reaction of
similar statements to billow back up the table.
“By the time the life in me is all but gone, I swear to you now I will have
stretched Rome as far as it can go, and after me, Auron shall stretch it
further still. Rome will not slow until we cover every speck of land in this
world! We will never shrink! We will never fall!” he bellowed, thrusting his
cup forward and only losing a tiny bit of sloshed wine before he and the other
adults inhaled theirs as well.
Auron sat proudly in place and watched the action, putting all his faith into
Trajan to do the very things he spoke of so that by the time his rule came
around, he wouldn’t have much to do in the case of expansion. He didn’t want to
have to fight for dominance, he wanted to have it unchallenged already. He
wanted it to come with his very name. I will never make anyone bow to me, he
thought in his almost nine-year-old head, reaching forward to take a filled
goblet and steal a small sip to demonstrate what he hoped looked like maturity.
They will never need to be asked. They just will.

---

Hadrian woke up to the sounds of wreckage; what kind of wreckage, he couldn’t
be sure, but things were definitely being broken. He snapped his eyes open and
sat up as quickly as his muscles would allow, feeling for Auron beside him in
their bed and getting a cold chill when he found his spot empty. So Auron was
behind the breaking, then.
“Auron?” he called, his ears guiding his gaze into the corner of their
cubicula, even if it was impossible to see in the darkness. In the corner of
their room was a small table that held an intricate vase and other ceramic and
gifted tokens they’d received just for being alive, but it sounded like neither
the table nor anything it supported were in one piece anymore. “Shit,” he
hissed, feeling around for the candle he knew was close by when their mother
busted into the room with her own lit torch, their father right behind her.
“Auron!” Paulina cried, pushing the torch to Afer and then carefully sliding on
her knees to grab a hold of Auron and stop him from hurting himself with the
ceramic shards.
Because apparently that was what he’d been doing—breaking things so he could
hurt himself with whatever jagged pieces he created.
“Don’t touch me!” Auron screamed, shoving Paulina back and holding out a sharp
piece of vase as if he would actually use it if she advanced...and maybe in
this state, he really would.
“Let me, Mom,” Hadrian begged, fitting his small hands around her shoulders and
pulling back to get her out of the way. His father walked over and finished the
job, helping her up with a hand around her elbow and taking two wide steps
backward.
“Auron, please—can you put that down?” Hadrian asked, kneeling to the dusty
ground to try his hand at calming his current calamity of a brother. He could
not believe it was happening again. Again. This was a lot like last time, and
Hadrian could no longer delude himself into thinking it had been a one-time
thing...and he didn’t know what that meant for them all. “Auron…”
“Get back—now!” Auron growled, changing his defensive tone and holding the vase
shard to his own throat instead. “I’ll do it, I swear!”
“Jupiter, help him!” Paulina wailed to the ceiling, gripping onto her husband
as though she had no feeling in her legs.
“Son, you are to be the Emperor of Rome! Pull yourself together!” Afer shouted,
probably thinking he could snap Auron out of it, but Hadrian knew better.
“Can’t you see that won’t help?” Hadrian barked over his shoulder, turning back
around and holding out his hand. “Auron, just give me that and we’ll leave,” he
pleaded, even giving his wild brother a comforting smile that he hoped wouldn’t
come up later during Auron’s accusations when this was all over—since he was
outright lying, and all.
“You’ll go?” Auron asked guardedly, still not recognizing these people as his
family but at least understanding their words.
“I promise,” Hadrian said, inwardly grimacing at himself and shaking his hand
to reinforce the request.
Auron frowned and stared into his eyes like any frightened stranger would,
apparently finding those eyes somewhat trustworthy because he slowly moved the
shard from his neck and began holding it out.
Hadrian kept up his smile the whole time, and when Auron’s wrist was finally
within his reach, he struck out like a snake and grabbed him hard, yanking him
forward and causing him drop the shard to the ground.
“You liar!”
“Father!” Hadrian shouted, slapping a hand on Auron’s back and thrusting him
with all his strength toward his parents.
Afer pushed his wife aside and dashed forward to capture his son, whipping him
around once he caught him and squeezing his arms around his chest so he
couldn’t bite him or do anything else easy to escape.
“Mom, help me with these!” Hadrian commanded in a rush, already picking up
every shard he could find and running to the hall to drop them carelessly onto
the ground, then going back to collect more.
Paulina set the torch in the wall mount and rushed to the corner once more,
going straight for the broken table and transporting it out of the room to make
shard-finding easier. As an effective and fast-working team, Paulina and
Hadrian emptied the room of any easy weapon possible, searching the room after
clearing the corner and tossing things outside like they were playing a round
of discs, all the while enduring Auron’s yelling and curses as he futilely
tried to fight back against Afer.
“I’ll kill you all!” Auron shrieked, going between using his dead weight to
drag himself down and then pushing back as hard as he could to overthrow the
man trying to hurt him.
“Sweetie, let’s go,” Paulina said, checking once more around the bed to make
sure the boys didn’t have knives hidden under their pillows and then guiding
Hadrian out of the room.
“Sorry, Auree,” Hadrian said through sudden tears as they passed him, cringing
from the look of foreign hatred on his twin’s face and letting his mother lift
him into her arms so his barefeet avoided the outside hall. He grabbed the
torch from its holder at the last second and dropped it in one just outside the
door, leaning against the wall when he was put down a safe distance away.
“I’m sorry about this, son,” Afer said sadly, walking him a bit further into
the emptied cubicula and then spinning him around to face him, heaving a great
sigh and then punching Auron hard in the face to knock him to the ground. Auron
cried out and landed straight on his stomach from how sharply the assault had
turned him, and that was Afer’s chance to leave. He crossed the cubicula in
three large running steps and fearlessly jumped out into the hall since he had
his sandals on, slamming the door closed and holding himself up against it.
“Jupiter…”
“Let me out!” Auron screamed from inside the room, obviously throwing himself
into the door repeatedly without regard to how such actions could actually hurt
himself in the process.
“What do we do?” Hadrian asked with a wavering tone, holding a hand over his
mouth to mask his sobs and working hard to get his emotions under control. He
couldn’t feel too much in this situation or his ability to calculate
objectively would be lost to the wind. His heart couldn’t be in anything, any
turmoil great or small, as a warrior—that was the Roman way. But that ‘way’ was
hard to accomplish when Auron was the subject of this horror...very hard.
“Go get two members of my personal guard. I don’t want this getting out, but
they’re sworn to secrecy. No more than two,” Afer heaved, wincing every time he
felt Auron’s collisions against his back.
“Okay,” Hadrian said with a nod, immediately running off through the pillars
opposite the cubicula door and through the atrium, all the way across their
domus to get outside and to the guard’s smaller-sized insula. He was honestly
surprised they weren’t already here, considering all the screaming, but he also
knew their post was strictly set outside to ensure their safety from external
threats. Who would ever guess one would be internal?
He ripped the front door open and hissed from the cold, running his bare feet
through the damp soil of the courtyard gardens and immediately garnering the
attention of the two awake guardsmen outside their insula, the other six of
which would be inside sleeping since it wasn’t their shift. “Iduma! Cadmus!”
“What is it, Master Hadrian?” Iduma asked on full alert (which meant he’d
definitely heard the ruckus inside), gripping the sword handle at his hip in
case something would come chasing Hadrian from around the corner.
“I need you two inside,” Hadrian said breathlessly, his pounding heart having
sprung about long before the sprint outside.
Cadmus opened their door and shouted inside for two others to take their place,
shutting it when he saw at least two forms rolling right out of their beds and
onto the floor. They then ran after Hadrian, who had barely waited for them
until taking off, and the three of them raced themselves through the vestibulum
straight to the western hall wherein the chaos lie.
Hadrian leaned himself against the wall as the guardsmen arrived onto the
scene, bending over since his duty was done and holding onto his knees while
black spots danced across his vision, threatening to drag him under the surface
of consciousness until he steadied his breathing.
“Sir!” the guardsmen said at once, saluting Afer without question and waiting
for their orders.
“Iduma, Cadmus,” Afer sighed, toying with his beard and tutting in
disappointment when Auron threw himself against the door again after an
apparent break from doing so. “Just stand here. Auron is...unwell. We can’t let
him out,” he said regretfully, preparing to switch places like lightning when
they were clear to swiftly take his place.
“Of course, Sir,” Cadmus said, flanking Afer with Iduma and quietly giving the
signal just in case Auron would time an attack depending on their actions. Afer
stepped forward then and they slid into place, both of their weight against the
door surely set to make things harder for Auron should he continue.
“Let me out, you animals!” Auron snarled, trying once again to break through
the door and actually yelping this time because unlike the inch he budged when
his father was guarding it, Iduma and Cadmus made it unmovable.
“Stay there until I release you. If you still need to be there by morning, I’ll
bring you food,” Afer sighed, turning his gaze to his family once his guards
nodded their understanding. “You two clean this hall up and then meet me in the
triclinium.”
“Yes, dear,” Paulina said, removing the night shawl from her shoulders and
laying it out on the floor to place shards on.
Hadrian ran his hands through his curly hair and crouched down to help out,
scooping up a handful of shards regardless of his personal safety and tipping
his hands to relocate them onto the fabric. He and his mother worked in
silence, moving the chunks of table to the furthest corner of the hall and
patting around the ground, running their hands across it when they assumed they
were done to make sure that was correct.
When neither of them bled, essentially, Paulina took the corners of the smooth
fabric and tied it into a sack, lifting it as she stood and placing it in the
same area as the broken wood, wiping her forehead and then holding her hand out
for Hadrian’s.
Hadrian might have assumed that he would get instantly led out by that gesture,
but his mother used his hand to pull him in for a hug instead, petting his hair
and rubbing at his back in that calming way she always did. Hadrian sunk into
her like wet clay, clenching his fists on the back of her soft stola and
holding his breath to continue successfully restraining his emotions—they were
dangerously close to overflowing now.
“Be strong, Hadrian,” she whispered into his ear, kissing just above it and
giving him the time he needed before he broke away himself. It took a while,
but eventually his hands loosened from her clothing and he wiped at his face,
taking several measured breaths to bring himself back to a level of patience
and calm he could work with.
“Let’s go,” Hadrian said with a stone face when he won his battle, patting at
his face to refocus himself and walking into the atrium (pointedly ignoring the
statue altar for their Lar God because it certainly wasn’t guarding the domus
tonight) to make a hard left toward the triclinium without her. If he couldn’t
function without his mother holding his hand, he would never be much of
anything. He kept his hand securely around his bulla, wondering if Auron’s had
broken or lost its power...he should have been protected, and he wasn’t. Why?
They reached the candlelit triclinium, and Afer was already in his pacing
stage, a habit that rarely stopped once it started unless some all-curing
solution to his turmoil arose. They each took a seat upon the largest couch in
the room, one of three that surrounded the center table, donned with pillows
and cushions, and waited for Afer to speak first, knowing even if they had to
wait a while, he would at some point.
“I don’t actually know if I can talk about it yet,” Afer said after no time at
all, rubbing the part of his head where he was losing the most hair and sighing
as he shifted his toga so he wouldn’t trip and spun around to continue pacing.
Paulina let out a sigh of her own but it was one only Hadrian beside her could
hear, running her fingers through her rarely undone hair (rare simply because
Hadrian hardly ever saw her without its Flavian updo) and bouncing her legs up
on down with the balls of her feet. They could easily hear Auron from here, and
because of that, their tension could not and would not subside.
Hadrian gnawed on his lips and picked up the bulla pendant from around his neck
once again, the thing that should always keep children safe, trying to bend
down to look at it even though it was fairly short. He gave up when he only
caught the bottom edge in his sight and broke the silence, asking the question
he’d uselessly asked himself earlier. “Is Auron’s bulla broken?”
Afer paused in his steps and met his son’s eyes, sighing for the countless time
and walking over to the couch between its scaled ferns to kneel before him and
take his hands. “...Think of it like Auron being even worse off than he is now
without it,” he said, trying to kill the thought of ‘broken bulla’ from
becoming a full-blown theory in his impressionable son’s mind. Bullas couldn’t
break...but it was an intelligent guess.
“I can’t imagine that,” Hadrian said quietly, biting his lip even harder when
his eyes started to sting with telltale tears. Not now...not yet.
“My wife and son, you two should retire,” Afer said, placing one hand on both
Hadrian and Paulina’s inner knees. “Go and get the rest you deserve, try to
ignore the noise…” he said, unable to simply put Auron’s name to said noise,
“...and I’ll come to bed later. Don’t wait.”
“Of course, dear. Please follow us soon,” Paulina said as she held her hand
over Afer’s, wishing he wouldn’t pace until sunrise like last time.
“Mm. Goodnight,” Afer said, standing back up and going right back to his
circular walks around their luxurious potted plants.
“Come on,” Paulina whispered to Hadrian, helping him up and walking him back
through the atrium and across to the eastern hall, to the master cubicula to
tuck in for the night. Once there, she first took off her sandals, and then
fell down into bed, beckoning Hadrian to her and rubbing at her collarbones.
Hadrian walked up to the bed and blew out the candle that bathed the room in
minimal light anyway, feeling his way across the slight padding until he found
his mom under her blanket, cuddling up to her and finally letting those tears
go. With her, it was okay.
“Oh, my child,” Paulina whined, holding Hadrian close and letting him expel all
of the pent-up emotions he’d suppressed. “Shh,” she hushed, petting his hair
and resting her cheek on his forehead. “We’ll figure this out.”
“Can we?” Hadrian cried, images of Auron’s crazed eyes flashing through his
mind. Those eyes had been completely different than his normal ones—completely.
He never wanted to see them again and it terrified him down to his bones that
he might be stuck looking at them for a long time. If Auron was this
unstable...what would happen to Rome? What would happen to this family? Surely
this could be cured...right?
“We can do anything,” Paulina asserted, wondering herself if that statement was
even close to true—she couldn’t have Hadrian losing hope, though. He needed it
most. Truth be told, though, this didn’t look good at all, and the more this
happened, the harder it would be to hide. They would need a physician soon, and
they weren’t sure they could trust any of them with such a secret… Gods, tell
me what to do.
“I hope so,” Hadrian responded, flipping over and scooting back until his
mother wrapped him up in her arms from behind. “I can hear him…” he said, still
dubious that he could sleep while those yells and cries (and occasional bangs
and crashes) were still transpiring in his cubicula. “Are you sure we should
leave him alone?”
“Yes, that’s the best thing to do,” Paulina said with a sure mind, using
Auron’s reactions to visitors as incentive to leave him be. That irrefutably
put him further on edge, and nobody needed that after the meltdown they’d
already seen tonight. “I know it may be hard to sleep, but please try. We’ll
talk this over soon, and just...we can do anything,” she repeated, praying her
efforts to instill hope in her son would be effective. She didn’t have much
energy to keep everyone together herself—they needed to believe and have their
own faith.
“Okay...I love you, Mother,” Hadrian said heavily, wiping the dampness from his
cheeks and pulling the blanket over his head to lock himself in the illusion of
an impenetrable world.
“And I you, my special and cherished Hadrianus,” she professed, beginning to
rub up and down Hadrian’s top arm with the slowest of motions, on track to put
him to sleep from the repetition.
Hadrian vowed to keep his eyes closed because opening them even once would
inevitably slow his progress toward sleep, and he kept his mind on Auron the
entire time even if that seemed counter-productive. It wasn’t like he could
possibly think of anything else, so he used what he was stuck with to wear him
out on its own—what else in this world could be as exhausting?
No surprise that it worked.
***** Unforeseen Surrender *****
Chapter Notes
     First off, fuck the FCC. And Donald fucking Trump while we're at. We
     may very well live to see ww3, and if we do, yall gotta stay strong
     like our Great Grandparents and Grandparents did for the last ones.
     Surely there will be a lot of death, but if you're mad smart about
     it, you may survive. Long enough to see this period of time
     documented into your grandchildren's history books. I wonder what
     that chapter would be called. "The Generation that utterly fell
     apart" lmao. Don't mind me, I'm sure everything will be just
     FINE.*squints eyes and tries to convince self of that*
     Second, Merry early Christmas.
     Third, I feel like a dried up pollock for making actual readers wait
     so long. Don't tell me it's fine, it's not fine. I'll work on it.
     When have you ever heard that promise before? xD
     Enjoy.
See the end of the chapter for more notes
“Hadrian—Hadrian, come on, wake up,” Afer urged, gently rocking his son back
and forth until he opened his eyes.
“Father,” Hadrian groaned, about to ask him for just a while longer of rest
when the events of last night blasted through his head, propelling him up into
a sitting position as he glanced wildly around. “Auron?” he asked, seeing his
mother dressing into her stola in the corner of his eye.
“Is quiet, but no, you can’t go check on him,” Afer said sternly, pulling
Hadrian out of bed whether he wanted to leave or not. “You’re to attend your
training as if it was any other normal day, and when you get home, then we’ll
talk,” he said, dropping Hadrian’s extra sandals down by his feet and handing
off his just-shy-of-knee-length tunic at him to change into.
“How could I fight today?” Hadrian grumbled to himself, stripping down and
dressing himself in a daze. Fight? Train? Today? He didn’t think he could
possibly be any more distracted than he was now, and that would probably get
him hit in the head at least a few times.
“Can I tell you a secret?” Afer asked, taking a knee to make himself smaller
than his large-prided son and offer some wisdom if he’d take it.
“Hm?” Hadrian asked, fastening all his fibulae as he repeatedly moved his eyes
to his father’s.
“Being under stress and pressure can sometimes make one the best fighter they
can be,” Afer informed, thinking over his phrasing and making a small
correction. “And actually, ‘sometimes’ is a low estimate. Done right, it always
does.”
Hadrian, now fully dressed, stopped all movement, pondering that concept and
then snapping his fingers when he remembered where he’d heard it. “I’ve heard
Marcius say that.”
“Mm,” Afer hummed with a smile, ruffling his son’s hair and standing to finish
dressing himself. “Marcius was right—do you know why that is?”
“It seems like a bad thing to me...I don’t know,” Hadrian admitted, eager to
learn something he could keep in mind and utilize for the rest of his life.
“Well, you channel your inner self when you fight,” Afer explained, taking a
seat on his bed and patting the space beside him to invite his son to come
over, which he did. “What do you channel when you fight—your strength, right?
You channel your strength through your arms with a blade, channel it through
your legs to move and evade, yes?” he asked, waiting until he got a nod from
Hadrian before moving on. “Well, you can also channel more than that. You can
channel your emotions. If you’re angry or frustrated, you can send your anger
and frustration through your arms, legs, and blade, and the best thing is, this
makes you even stronger.”
“Oh…” Hadrian said, not quite sure he understood how to orchestrate his
feelings in such a way, but it was a definitely a challenge he was looking
forward to taking on.
“Never shy away from your feelings, Hadrian. Use them—and use them well. We as
Romans strive not to show personal emotion, as you know, we hide our hearts. Do
you know why?” he prompted, happy to bestow the one piece of knowledge that had
guided him through the darkest of his days.
“Because we save them for later,” Hadrian answered, finally catching onto what
his father meant by all this. Everything in his life just got a tiny bit easier
to understand.
“Yeah? And what do we save them for? Where do we put them?” Afer asked, sure
that if Hadrian got this right here and now, he would never falter as a
soldier.
“On the battlefield,” Hadrian said, grunting when his father yanked him into
his chest and squeezed him like he was a fruit in need of juicing.
“That’s my boy,” Afer praised, meeting Paulina’s eyes and grinning until it
hurt while she shook her head in fond exasperation. “Now go—Marcius will be
expecting you,” he said, lifting Hadrian up and placing him on the ground as he
stood himself.
“Bye, Father—Mother,” Hadrian said, waving at them both as he took off in a jog
to reach the outside stables and take his young horse, Celer, and head to the
training grounds for the day. He felt smarter now than he did five minutes ago,
and almost a bit egotistical about it, but he figured that pride would guide
him dependably...he just couldn’t wait to test this all out.  I’m going to be
the best there ever was. Better than Julius Caesar—better than Aléxandros ho
Mégas—better than them all.


---


Hadrian, after the fourth and longest round yet, was on his back once again
with a wooden pole at his neck. “Ah,” he panted, dropping his head to the dirt
and squeezing his eyes while he tried to recuperate from the fall.
“If this was war, you’d be dead,” Marcius needlessly reminded, moving his
dueling stick away and leaning down to offer a hand. “Come on, get up. We’re
going again.”
“I can’t—channel my frustration,” Hadrian heaved, stumbling a bit after he was
lifted to his feet and wiping the sweat from his forehead.
“What?” Marcius chuckled, fitting his hands around the tip of his pole and
resting his chin down because there would obviously be a short break for
Hadrian to explain himself.
“Channel my frustration. You and my father both have told me the same thing
now—to use my emotions with my fighting,” Hadrian said breathlessly, shifting a
little bit to the side of Marcius so he wasn’t getting so blinded from the
setting sun in the west. He'd been here all day.
“Well, what are your emotions right now? What frustrates you?” Marcius asked,
gesturing to the bench for them to sit in the shade and really take a breather.
“Uh, I can’t...I can’t tell you that,” Hadrian said apologetically as he took a
heavy seat, wishing he could just say it, but he really couldn’t when it
concerned his brother, the next in line for Emperor of Rome. The information
regarding his condition was a bit too confidential for a mere training match,
and a little bit more than the head prefect needed to know.
“Then find a way to tell me without really telling me,” Marcius suggested,
happy the session was even going in a direction like this because it could and
would be very useful to Hadrian if he could learn to harness it.
“Well...someone’s hurting and there’s nothing I can do to fix it,” Hadrian
said, hoping that wouldn’t be too much. It was true that he had friends outside
of his family, Antinous in particular, whom he trained and schooled with, so it
wasn’t too far-fetched it could be one of them.
“Ah, that is a very natural frustration to have. None of us like feeling
powerless. We’re Roman, we shouldn’t endure such struggles, right?” Marcius
said with a sad smile, absentmindedly fixing the pendant on his necklace, which
had ended up down his back instead of chest.
“It’s important this person doesn’t hurt anymore, but I—I can’t... do anything
about it, I’m completely worthless,” Hadrian said with a forlorn slump of his
shoulders, kicking the dirt beneath his feet and genuinely pouting from all the
stress.
“Then here’s what you should do...just follow my lead, and don’t be afraid to
hurt me,” Marcius said, giving a comforting pat to Hadrian’s head and then
standing tall to let the games continue.
“Hurt you?” Hadrian repeated, following after his mentor as he moved back into
the middle of the grounds. “I don’t think I could.”
“You could if I told you I’m the cause of your person’s pain,” Marcius said
maliciously, as if a dark shadow overtook his entire personality, giving
Hadrian a shock and chill of unease.
“W-what?” Hadrian asked blankly, positive Marcius was only playing a role but
there was something really convincing about his act that Hadrian couldn’t
ignore. “What do you…”
“It’s me doing it—all part of my plan,” Marcius chuckled, swinging his pole up
and holding it straight out to point at Hadrian and make him back up a few
paces. “You know why? Because this person deserves it,” he bit, taking a step
toward Hadrian and smiling in the creepiest way he could manage.
“You take that back!” Hadrian shouted, not finding this game any amount of
useful if Marcius was going to unknowingly insult his twin brother.
“But it’s true,” Marcius egged on, adopting an air of villainous flippancy, as
though his evil plan had already come to fruition and there was nothing this
protagonist could do. “They are weak and useless—a shame to Rome—and the world
is better off without them.”
“He’s  not  useless!” Hadrian barked, swinging forward before he even thought
about it and clashing his pole with Marcius’s, only to get his knocked aside
right after, but he held on strong and didn’t let it tumble out of his hand.
“Yes he is!” Marcius persisted, making sharp forward stabbing motions and
inwardly delighting that Hadrian had the adrenaline to block every single one
in quick succession. “And you know what else? Since he’s better off dead, I
think I may just do it myself.”
“You—you don’t know what you’re talking about!” Hadrian growled, leaping out of
the way and running in for a side attack that might have worked if he were
taller, but he was blocked effortlessly...at least he dodged the ‘blade,’
though.
“And you’re just as useless,” Marcius spat, his eyes cold and void of all the
affection they usually carried, ripping apart Hadrian’s safe space and leaving
him on the field with an ill-wishing stranger. “Maybe your little hurting
friend would have a shot if they had someone other than you looking out for
them. But look at you—you can’t even land a single blow when their pride is at
stake. When your pride is at stake. You’ve doomed the both of you—”
“That’s enough!” Hadrian bellowed as deep as his hormonally-cracking voice
would allow, seeing a flash of red and diving in for Marcius, dropping low at
the last second and successfully hitting the backs of his knees, which would
have done major damage if these were real blades.  Did I just do that?
“Good!” Marcius cheered, lifting Hadrian by a hand around his neck and shoving
him backward to start again. “Now fight me!”
And fight they did. For an unknowable amount of time, Hadrian fought like Auron
himself depended on it, seeing things faster than he ever had, hitting stronger
than he ever had, and every time he began to feel only a little tired, more
insults came his way, and he felt brand new.
He felt like he’d never been angrier about anything in his life, and that was
probably true. Auron’s situation itself was the core, but he hadn’t let himself
really feel it until now. Marcius had unhinged him, and he fought like a gorgon
until he had his mentor on  his  back.
When it actually happened he didn't know how to react, or even if it was real.
The only thing he could do was stare—try to remember what he’d even done to get
here, straddling Marcius with his pole lodged sideways up into his lower jaw.
He couldn't remember. Whatever he'd done, though, had clearly worked, and
Marcius had never looked so proud.  
“You may not believe me,” Marcius attempted to say, smiling gratefully when
Hadrian realized the issue and removed his pole. “But I really wasn't holding
back during your last attack.”
“Wow,” Hadrian breathed, quickly scrambling off Marcius’s chest when he made
the move to get up. “Are you okay?”
“Okay? Yes, I'm okay,” Marcius chuckled, sitting up straight and choosing to
stay there, dusting the dirt from his palms and rubbing at the backs of his
knees, where he was sure to bruise. “Talented or not, you're still a kid—but a
fast kid, and you know how to use your size to your advantage. You knocked me
off my center balance, which is something you’ll have to master because if it
got me, you’re damn good at it.”
“Apologize,” Hadrian said, discarding all his mentor’s words of praise because
that wasn’t what he needed or wanted to hear right now.
“What?” Marcius balked, actually taken aback that Hadrian would still hold onto
his pretend insults even after understanding the point to it all. “I’m not
going to apologize for unlocking inner strengths you didn’t walk in here with.
It was necessary. You know I didn’t mean it—I couldn’t have possibly.”
“I know. But you still shouldn’t have said it,” Hadrian persisted with passion,
annoyed he had to hide why it was so crucial. Marcius hadn’t known it, but he’d
insulted his own Emperor; calling Auron weak had inadvertently challenged
Trajan’s will in choosing a successor. He couldn’t have known, but...it still
felt so wrong to let go.
Marcius stared at him for a while, weighing his accountability and finally
blowing out a sigh that proved he’d held his breath that whole time in thought.
“Alright, I’m sorry, Hadrian,” he said, placing a hand on the boy’s knee for
extra sincerity.
“It’s alright, I guess,” Hadrian said, well aware that it was a dead-end to
make him understand the gravity of his words, so a basic and oblivious apology
would of course have to suffice. “You know...at the very start of that...when
you said you’re the cause...I almost believed you,” he chuckled, saying it in
such a way so he wouldn’t look as sad as he felt. “Had I not known you well
enough, I might have thought I’d lost you.”
“Oh, Hadrian,” Marcius chortled, getting out his laughter with a sigh and then
getting serious when he saw Hadrian’s troubled expression. “That must be
credited to my acting ability. Wasn’t sure I had one, but...listen,” he said,
refocusing himself to get to the point. “I won’t always be your friend,
Hadrian. I can’t be. I may be  on your side , but I won’t always be your
friend.”
“Always? What do you mean? Are we friends regularly?” Hadrian asked, having not
considered his mentor as anything of the such. Dear to him and familial, yes,
but that’s not a friendship—it’s an official relationship of teacher and
student.
“Yes, in my opinion, you silly kid,” Marcius said with a pinch to Hadrian’s
cheek, which he didn’t much appreciate but Marcius didn’t care. “You’re going
to grow up like a weed if you’re anything like your father, and once you’re an
adult, I have the feeling you’ll have things to teach  me —we’ll be good
friends when our age difference doesn’t mean as much,” he said, hoping he lived
to see Hadrian turn into the general he knew he could be. “We’re in this
together.”
“I don’t know what to say,” Hadrian said sheepishly, suddenly feeling all grown
up already with a future prediction like that.
“Nothing needs to be said,” Marcius said, clapping his hands together and
taking Hadrian’s pole from him to put both back on their rack. “Good job today,
Hadrian, I mean it. Just go home for now, and I’ll see you in two days.”
“Alright—thank you,” Hadrian said, walking away with a bounce in his step
toward the stables to collect his horse and head home. He reached the stables
in less time than he usually did, and Jonas was there as usual, just finishing
up his brush grooming on Celer. “Jonas, nice to see you.”
“Oh! Hello Hadrianus,” Jonas said with a bow, moving away from Celer and
setting the brush on his stool for now.
Jonas was only a little bit older than Hadrian, but he was the son of an Eques
senator, one of the finest members of the calvary, so he had the civil rights
to take care of the highest class members’ horses while they were here at the
training grounds. The days when Hadrian was here were the days that  only  he
was here, so Celer was the only horse in a stall, and he was always thankful
that someone still watched out for him and Celer.
“Did he give you any problems?” Hadrian asked, accustomed to reciting that
question every night as he was leaving.
“No, no,” Jonas said with a smile, giving Celer a pat on the side and guiding
him forward as he opened the waist-high gate of the stall. “Never has, wouldn’t
now.”
“Good,” Hadrian said, making kissy faces at Celer once he was handed off in the
middle of the stable aisle. “Had to ask—thanks again,” he said, demonstrating
just how much his short height didn’t matter by leaping up onto Celer’s back
like he’d sprouted wings.
“Have a good night, Hadrianus,” Jonas said, yawning into his fist and returning
to the stall to finish cleaning up for the day.
“Mm,” Hadrian replied with a polite nod, whistling to Celer to get him walking
and then ducking under the stable door in case he might finally be tall enough
to hit his head on the arch...he wasn’t, but good to practice now.
Once fully outside, he prompted Celer into a bit of a canter, aching to feel
the wind on his face. He’d remembered just after entering the stable that going
home meant getting that ‘talk,’ and his happy mood from training plummeted then
and there. He didn’t know what was going to happen, and it was a shame he
couldn’t go straight back to Marcius afterward and get the surely new
frustrations he would have out. He just didn’t feel like suppressing it for a
full two days.
His journey home through the main paths of the city went mostly unnoticed, only
a few nods from the Romans with a pronounced nightlife, and far too soon, he
was back home, guiding Celer into the stable where a member of the guard was
waiting for him. He slowed Celer to a full stop and hopped off, handing the
reins off to the man he didn’t even check identity for in his distracted
impatience to get inside. He had to get this over with.
He slipped through the front door and quietly shut it behind him, taking a deep
breath and gulping multiple times before following the candlelight to the
atrium. He’d expected to see his parents there waiting for him, but he was met
with an empty room, save for their Lar altar, so his nerves were put on hold.
Where are they?
He looked around and checked the culina, where meals were frequently cooked by
his mother even if they had the class to utilize the city’s cooks, but still no
sign of Afer or Paulina. He shook his head in confusion and decided to check
his own room next, thinking they might be with Auron, and on instinct, he
softened his footsteps to a degree in which he could have been a mere mouse.
For some reason he wanted to investigate—to choose for himself how he would
announce his presence.
He walked across the atrium en route to his room, and when he heard the first
whisper, he rose up onto his toes, gracefully stepping his way to the nearest
pillar that stood between him and his cubicula door in the far left corner. The
whispers were his parents, alright, and he peeked ever so slightly around the
edge of the pilar, catching them in the dead-end of the hallway and speaking
directly into each other’s faces so they wouldn’t be any louder than they
needed to be.  They don’t look too happy.
“I think we can start putting credibility to our worst fears,” Afer said,
proving to Hadrian that he really hadn’t missed much of this conversation
because that was an opening statement if he’d ever heard one. He strained his
ears to catch every word, even regulating his breathing to do it as scarcely as
possible.
“Why? Why Auron?” Paulina asked distraughtly, probably making some wild body
gesture but of course Hadrian couldn’t see it—he wouldn’t risk looking again.
“Would you have preferred it to be Hadrian?” Afer asked.
“How  dare  you, you know I would never think that,” Paulina huffed, the two of
them probably only bickering out of stress. When they wanted to fight, they
could always find a way to do so even if it was the opposite of productive.
“If this continues,” a third voice began, widening Harry’s eyes because he’d
had no idea there was another person with them. He didn’t know who the voice
belonged to, but they were evidently old—he just hoped they were trustworthy.
“Then I’m afraid he will be most unfit to rule as Emperor. The chances of
securing him in this role are next to none for now...whether this will subside,
I’m not sure. But you cannot place your faith in the prediction that it will.
You can only hope.”
“But what is it? What’s wrong with my son?” Paulina asked, her voice cracking
at the end of the question.
“It is a type of mania,” the voice responded, his deduction of Auron’s mental
state alluding to Harry that the third voice was most likely the district
physician. It wouldn’t make sense to call in the royal one, and Sophus was the
next best of his skill.
“Mania?” Paulina whisper-shouted, getting immediately shushed by both Afer and
supposedly Sophus.
Is that Sophus?
“Sophus, have you seen this before?” Afer asked.
Yup.
“I have,” Sophus sighed, shifting a bit and probably fixing some wrinkles in
his tunic if going by all the fabric sounds. “A few times—hard to forget.
Seemingly unpredictable episodes of inhuman rage, occasionally joined by the
loss of facial recognition at all, followed sooner or later by a comatose state
of depression, unwilling to eat, drink, or sleep until the senses of the normal
self return...there is no stop to it. Not one that I’ve yet seen,” he informed,
his tone careful but helpfully honest.
“No,” Hadrian mouthed silently, his wide eyes stinging with tears that he would
never have been able to stop, Roman or not. He held a hand hard over his lips
and squeezed his eyes shut, slowly sliding down the pillar until he hit the
floor, bringing his knees into his chest and wishing to disappear from this
world, which was clearly malfunctioning and vastly off-kilter.  This can’t be
happening.
“Why have the Gods done this?” Paulina sobbed, the sound muffled suggesting
that she’d said it from behind her hands.
“Perhaps Auron was never meant to rule,” Sophus theorized, going way out of his
bounds but most likely saying it anyway in case they hadn’t thought of that
possibility.
“We have to talk to Trajan,” Afer grunted, sighing heavily and evidently
leaning hard against the far wall by the random thump that came after his
words.
“And tell him what?” Paulina asked, sounding very much against the idea
(understandably so) because it felt a bit too soon to be sounding off alarms to
the Emperor of Rome.
“Well, tell him...tell him that Hadrian will have to rule in Auron’s place.”
What!  Hadrian snapped his head up so fast it practically slammed into the
pillar behind him, springing his limbs into action and scrambling out of his
hiding spot so fast it was a wonder how he was still standing afterward. “You
can’t be serious,” he deadpanned, walking forward with purpose and pointing an
accusatory finger at all three of the wide-eyed grown-ups.  
“Hadrianus!” Paulina gasped, almost feeling stupid for not realizing Hadrian’s
training would have ended quite some time ago and he’d have come home by
now...not to mention been hiding behind a mere pillar listening in on
everything they’d said.
“You can’t take this away from Auron—it’s his birthright,” Hadrian said, not at
all minding the volume of his voice even if he was stood just outside his
cubicula door, where Auron was currently residing.
“It is no birthright of the Aelius line to inherit Rome,” Afer argued, quick to
shoot down Hadrian’s questionable claim of entitlement. “Trajan handpicked and
personally selected Auron to be his successor. This was a privilege, not a
right. But we cannot in good conscience leave him unaware of these
developments. If you want our family to stay in good graces with the true
powers of this nation, you’ll step up to the plate and accept the offer I will
make on your behalf.”
“But I…” Hadrian began, his fists clenched at his sides while he focused his
every fibre into his temper, trying hard to keep it in his head where it
belonged, even if it felt extremely reasonable to let it out.
“Now now, dear,” Paulina said in her stern-calm voice, the tone in itself
telling Hadrian to swallow anything he could possibly want to say. “There will
be plenty of time to talk this over—right now, we should have you getting
home,” she said with a personable smile to the physician, “and we should get
some rest ourselves,” she added, her naturally persuasive nature putting spells
over the two men by her side.
“Yes, quite right, I must have let the time slip away from me,” Sophus said,
nodding courteously and starting to walk down the hall. 
Hadrian had half a mind to move himself up against the wall to get out of
Sophus’s way, and he’s very glad he remembered to do so or he would have looked
exceptionally rude. Sophus passed by him with an apologetic smile, and his
parents followed, Paulina reaching out and rubbing his shoulder on her way to
let him know she was there for him. Hadrian had the thought she was probably
the only one.
All of a sudden he was now alone in the hallway, staring at his own feet and
replaying the conversation he’d eavesdropped on before bluntly announcing
himself. ‘Tell him that Hadrian will have to rule in Auron’s place.’ It was
absolutely ridiculous—Hadrian couldn’t be Emperor—it wasn’t his duty or plan.
He was supposed to be a general, and general was what he was going to be. End
of story.
He came to his senses a little bit and looked around the empty hallway, faintly
hearing his parents with Sophus somewhere near the vestibulum, and the door to
his cubicula was staring him in the face like it was initiating a challenge.
Should he go in there? Would Auron even...shit...did Auron just hear everything
he said?  Oh fuck…
Hadrian dropped his jaw and grabbed his hair, scrunching his face and quietly
slamming his foot against the floor several times in angered shame at himself.
There was no way Auron wouldn’t have heard him; even if he was asleep, the
volume of his voice still probably would have woken him. “Why didn’t I…” he
muttered, huffing in annoyance and deciding to just go for it and open the door
anyway. He’d already done the worst he could.
When he stepped in the room, the still-lit candle made the room actually
visible to him, and he focused on the lump on their shared bed, inching across
the floor in case Auron might still be asleep.
“You can walk normally,” Auron sighed, shifting around and lightly removing the
comforter from over his face.
“Oh,” Hadrian said dumbly, clearing his throat and taking a brave seat on the
bed. “Uh…” he said, drawing a blank on what was acceptable to say in a
situation like this. Asking Auron if he was okay didn’t seem like a very
respectful thing to do, but he would feel weird just speaking about his day
like nothing was wrong…
“Just so you don’t have to start it, yes, I heard everything,” Auron said,
opening his eyes for the first time in a while and propping himself off his
back with his elbows.
“You—you did?” Hadrian asked, hanging his head in shame and regret because that
had been all his fault, and not a topic he would have preferred outing first.
“I didn’t even think about how loud I was—”
“No, no,” Auron said, shaking his head and heaving himself up to sit upright
and grab onto Hadrian’s knee. “I mean I heard everything. Long before you got
there,” he said, stroking his brother’s knee with his thumb to try and make him
feel better.  The fact that I’m worried for my brother right now and not me…
“Ohhh,” Hadrian drawled, now at an even shallower loss for words because
everything was in the open, but completely impossible to talk about. Where
would he start?
“And I think it’s...a good idea,” Auron added, meeting Hadrian’s suddenly
fierce eye contact with as much strength and will that he could muster.
“Are you...no, Auron, I can’t,” Hadrian pleaded, taking the hand on his knee
and wrapping all ten fingers around it as he brought it to his chest. “You know
I could never take that in your place.”
“Hayway,” Auron huffed, yanking his hand free of Hadrian’s clutches and
scooting away when his little brother tried to follow. “You’ll do whatever I
tell you to do. If you had any respect for me in a political manner, even once,
then let me give you an order that you would’ve had to follow in ten years
anyway without a choice. Let Auron the former-future Emperor of Rome speak
right now. Take my place, help this family, and do anything you ever have to do
to secure your leadership. And do not  ever  change your mind,” he said, having
put the manliest and most authoritative voice he could scrounge up into the
command to make his brother flinch.
Hadrian had so much fight left in him, he really did; he probably could have
argued with Auron over this for two entire days without sleep or food and still
have enough energy to keep refusing, but...now he couldn’t. He saw himself
trying  to keep going and knew in his head where that would lead him, and he
knew he’d already lost.
Auron had never used his status and that kind of wording to form an  order
before, because he’d literally never given Hadrian an  order  before, and
because of said obvious status, it had felt too much like a decree to
disobey—as though the future Emperor had signed and declared a law upon
Hadrian. One which he may not ever break. Auron may not even be close to
Emperor, but there was no denying how powerful that next-in-line aura was.
Hadrian had no choice.
“And if you get better?” Hadrian asked, not missing the surprised flash in
Auron’s eyes over how instantly he’d accepted the decision.  What?  he asked
his brother, waiting patiently for his reply in the meantime.  I can be
reasonable when I have to be.
“Dumb question—if I get better, I’m taking my spot back,” Auron said, reaching
out to hold the hand he’d previously thrown away in a moment of weakness. “But
Hayway, I...something’s telling me that I won’t see this dreamlike recovery you
hope for. I heard what the physician said...I’m not brainless…” he mumbled,
absentmindedly playing with Hadrian’s wrist bone and knuckles while he
contemplated the reality of his chances.
“That sounds like someone who’s already given up,” Hadrian remarked, finally
able to scoot closer without Auron practically hissing at him like an offended
cat. “And that’s not like you.”
“What then, brother? Would you have me ignorant?” Auron challenged, turning
Hadrian’s points against him like his mentor had always taught him (and never
forgot to mention how notably he excelled in). “Eternally vying for a
miraculous feat of merciful Gods that may never occur? Living out every day in
sheer denial and hopeless faith that things turn in my favour? When they won’t,
at best may not? What then, Hadrian? What then would be left for me? Is it not
better to accept the inevitable? Would you have me running from it for the rest
of my—”
“Auron,” Hadrian interrupted, forgetting all about his brother’s earlier
professionalism and slapping a hand over his mouth as he leaned in unreasonably
close. Auron’s muffled protests earned him a sharp hush, and he obediently shut
up, letting Hadrian continue as he’d set out to. “I only think it’s too soon to
make those kind of plans. Let us wait only a while longer to know for sure that
which we clearly don’t. If your condition resists to change, if the worst is
realized, then I will do as you say. I will do whatever is best for you—and I
will only ever let  you yourself  tell me what that may be. This I swear,” he
vowed, removing his hand and placing a quick kiss to his brother’s lips to
apologize for his impulsiveness.
“Fine,” Auron muttered, falling onto his back with a sigh and gently pulling on
Hadrian’s sleeve to ask he follow. “Just hold me, please. The addled mind drags
the body along with it,” he joked, trying to uphold a light attitude about it
because if he didn’t, darkness awaited, and he didn’t know how deep it would be
this time.
Hadrian didn’t say a word and lowered to lie sideways on the bed using his
elbow as a stand, gently holding Auron’s face with his free hand and sliding it
into his hair to pull him forward by the back of his head. Auron got the idea
and burrowed into his twin’s chest, and once the free space was given to let
Hadrian’s propped up arm fall and snake around his back, he knew he could be
asleep in a maximum of five minutes.
“I know you don’t want to give up, Auree,” Hadrian said, playing a dangerous
and unpredictable game. He knew Auron’s reaction to badgering couldn’t be
anything good, but what else was he supposed to do? Literally not fight it at
all? Not bloody likely.
“Maybe not...but is giving up really the worst thing you can imagine? Do I
shame Rome that much by handing the power to you? Isn’t your definition of
‘giving up’ actually taking the better path here?” Auron responded, shocking
the both of them with his outstanding nonchalance over something both would
assume would have had him steaming from the ears like an angry volcano.  Have I
somehow become an adult in one day?
“I just...I really want you to wait,” Hadrian repeated, drilling this if
nothing else because it seemed the least to ask for in his position.
“Mother already said they would speak with Trajan—at that point, it won’t be up
to me,” Auron reminded, kicking Hadrian’s cold foot away when it jarringly
brushed up against his ankle.
“I can postpone that—come on, that’s obvious,” Hadrian said, tempted to just
cross their home this very second and barge into their parents’ master cubicula
to set the waiting game in stone.
“Stay here, idiot,” Auron snapped, yanking Hadrian back down and caging him in
with all his limbs.
“I hadn’t thought I’d moved,” Hadrian said truthfully, sinking back into his
spot and relaxing all the muscles he’d evidently tensed to get out of bed.
“Even  if  you hadn’t, your very aura is screaming the same wish,” Auron said,
sighing from somewhere deep in his soul and closing his eyes as Hadrian began
instinctively finger-combing through his hair like he did his own.
“I’ll surrender tonight; but when we wake up, I’m talking to our parents,”
Hadrian said, completely unwilling to come to any other compromise but that.
The Aelius household could not be impulsive regarding this curséd toil or
chances would be lost. This was the time to plan—not go crying to Trajan at the
crack of dawn.
“Hayway?” Auron whispered, snuggling further into his twin and smiling when
Hadrian threw the top blanket over them so they were wholly covered. He hadn’t
even needed to say that’s what he wanted, but that’s just a common twin thing.
“Thanks for being my brother,” he said sheepishly, nearly cringing at his own
words until Hadrian’s squeezing left no room to do so.
“Auree,” Hadrian cooed, quickly letting go when Auron wheezed so he could
actually get air in his lungs and then kissing him hard on the forehead.
Tomorrow, the day after, and perhaps the rest of their lives might be
excruciatingly complicated, but at least for now the only world they knew was
under a blanket. If only they could buy this world and live in it forever.
“Nothing to thank me for, and I think I should be the one doing it anyway...I’m
never going anywhere, and I’m not letting you get away from me either. We’re
gonna make it through this because we’re brothers—we’ll be brothers for
thousands of years.”
“ Thousands ?” Auron laughed in confusion, staring hard where he knew his
brother's face to be, even if the darkness was too thick to really make it out.
“No two individuals can be brothers for thousands of years.”
“Nonsense,” Hadrian shut down, making a warning grumble when he heard Auron’s
mere inhale to say something else. “Time won't ever mean anything for us. We
may be long dead, but that won't change our relationship. For the last time,
because I'm not ever revisiting this conversation, we’ll be brothers until the
end of time.”
Chapter End Notes
     Well he's not wrong. They will be brothers for thousands of years
     huhuhu. Foreshadowing is fun af when you already know what's going to
     happen. You have no idea how funny it was when I dropped hints real
     time and nobody got it—I felt alone in the world haha. Now it's like
     you're in my head at the time I wrote the first three books. This is
     exactly how I felt knowing everything...what a burden that was lol.
***** The Mouth of the Beast *****
Chapter Notes
     *can't speak cuz I'm still cleansing my soul of 2017* it requires my
     every speck of attention.
See the end of the chapter for more notes
                              *Three years later*
 
“Is he acting up again?” Antinous asked, startling Hadrian out of his dazed
staring contest with the gigantic tree root coiling up and over his shoulder.
Over the last three years, Hadrian had begun to make his way to this thickly-
rooted oak tree whenever he had stress to work out and file away, and Antinous
(the closest childhood friend he had besides his brother), after accidentally
finding him there once, had known it was always where he could find him if he
went missing.
It eventually became their secret spot since it was outside the walls of the
city, too obscure to be considered a place to think of checking, and the time
they’d spent together had made both their twelve-year-old hearts grow
increasingly fond of one another—so much so Hadrian planned to confess his love
(which would surely grow over the next few years) when the time was right.
But that wouldn’t be any time soon. “How do you always know when it’s that?” he
asked, pulling his ankles toward his body to sit with crossed legs.
“It’s an easy distinction—all in your eyebrows,” Antinous said, making a deep
line of thought with his own to apparently show Hadrian what he looked like,
but he couldn’t do it without breaking out in a smile.
“I’ll have to train my eyebrows how to lie, then,” Hadrian sighed, hitting his
head against the back of the tree and beckoning Antinous closer. It felt wrong
to have him standing so far away.
Antinous smiled and a tiny chuckle released from his nose, carefully stepping
over the white flowers that covered the ground to take a seat on the strongest
oak root that Hadrian had been leaning ever so heavily against. Once seated, he
gazed down at his slouching friend, who had his eyes closed in peace-shelled
chaos, and gently poked him with his sandled foot. “Hey.”
“Hm,” Hadrian puffed, only opening one eye and glancing up at his best friend
before closing it again. “Yes, Auron is going through yet another ending of
this world in his head, and I can’t fucking deal with it right now—not with my
father’s illness. I hate saying things like this, but I don’t have room for
Auron right now,” he said with a crushing weight of regret.
He felt gross every time he said something like that, but after three years of
Auron’s declining mental health—the horrors that time span had wreaked—he was
close to desensitized to it. He didn’t mean to be, but it was hard and taxing
to put the exact same amount of passion into the next reaction as the last.
Everything was and had been out of his control the entire time, and grieving
over the injustice of it all would eat away at him until he was merely bones.
He’d never even gotten the chance to fight for Auron’s case; his parents had
gone against his wishes and spoken with Trajan the very next morning after the
second attack, and Trajan had renamed his successor to be himas expected, and
that had been that.
Auron had taken to it just fine in the beginning, but after seeing how easily
he was cast aside by society, and how quickly and wholeheartedly Hadrian was
accepted and revered, their relationship had grown polluted with a sick and
dense stain that didn’t presently feel like it would ever be cleansed. His
worsening heart had cracked a bit deeper each time Auron had vented his
frustrations and resentment to him over the faultless situation, so he’d
consequently given it to Antinous instead before it irreversibly shattered. So
far so good.
His close relationship to Antinous may be making the Auron forgiveness front
even bleaker, but what could he do? He was above begging for Auron to come back
to him—after months of just that to little avail, pride had been forced to step
in. He is an Emperor in training, after all. Emperors don’t beg.
“...Wow, it must be really bad,” Antinous said, breaking Hadrian from his
rapid-fire thoughts and tuning him back into the outside world.
“You’d said something, hadn’t you?” Hadrian guessed, accounting for his
frequent tendency to miss entire conversations because he’d spent a majority of
them somewhere else.
“Yeah, but it matters not. What matters is turning your face into a smiling
one, rather than one of sorrow,” Antinous whined, hopping off the root to take
a seat in front of Hadrian and grab onto his knees. “Are you worried he’ll run
off again?”
Hadrian shrugged. He hadn’t given that much of a thought because Auron running
away and disappearing for a week here and there had long since stop bothering
him. In fact, sometimes it was just a tad better that way, considering no one
in the Aelius household had to walk on eggshells, fearfully anticipating the
next eruption of the eldest child. Auree, what’s happened to us?
“To be completely honest, I’m more afraid when he is here. He almost killed
that servant last time,” Antinous recalled with a shudder, still waking up in a
fright every once in awhile from the memory of Auron’s hands wrapped around
that poor woman’s neck. He’d been in a bad mood and she’d accidentally stepped
on his foot; hardly cause to resort to attempted murder, but that was the kind
of unhinged person Auron was these days.
He shuddered with more force when he remembered how close of a call it had been
when Hadrian had finally got him off of her. He really had tried to kill her.
They hadn’t extensively spoken about it since, and no one else knew. But when
would Auron take things too far; to a point of no return?
What if he wasn’t alone the next time? What if he was tried and sentenced for
unspeakable crimes? Surely Hadrian would fall into irreparable despair, and
Antinous doubted he’d do much good once it set in—there had to be a way to keep
Auron’s violent illness in check. There just had to.
“Let’s not talk of my brother,” Hadrian said, taking Antinous’s hands and
lacing their fingers together out of a basic need for touch. “Your hair keeps
flattening,” he said out of nowhere, inspecting the locks of brown hair that
used to be somewhat curly in his youth, but had now smoothed out and relaxed
into fine instrument strings with the tiniest of waves left in them.
“I suspect it will be completely straight by the time I’m an adult. I was told
my father experienced the same change in his own hair,” Antinous said, more
than willing to divert the subject from the black pit of Auron to a superficial
back-and-forth about hair. He would have paid in whatever necessary to do it
anyway if much longer had gone on.
“You’ll look good with it—though you’d look good no matter what you did, or
what changed,” Hadrian said, trying his hand at very subtle flirting because
he’d been increasingly intrigued and drawn to that kind of behavior. He was
twelve years of age, after all, so it didn’t strike him as unexpected. Only
three more ages until he was an adult...that was actually terrifying when he
thought about it.
“Aelius Hadrianus, my word, it’s like I’m the maiden of your most private
desires,” Antinous laughed, raising his hands from Hadrian’s knees and lightly
shoving at his chest.
“Hardly,” Hadrian snorted, getting up and wobbling a bit from the sudden head
rush as he stretched his spine every which way. “I don’t have much experience,
but I have the strongest suspicion I won’t be fancying manymaidens in this
life,” he said with a wink, looking away from Antinous’s face when his cheeks
began to blush to save him the embarrassment.
“You’re a boy who knows what he wants—only a fool who knew nothing of you would
say otherwise,” Antinous said with a poorly-done ‘natural’ cough, standing up
as well and distancing himself a safe measure away from Hadrian before he did
something neither of them were remotely ready for.
“Do I really know what I want, though?” Hadrian mumbled, staring off into space
again while he pondered the vast incorporations of a theory like that.
“Even if you don’t know now, you will when you need to,” Antinous said
confidently, taking the time to redo the strings of his sandals before making
the journey back into the city. “You debate yourself without stop; always
wondering what the right course and path is for you to take; but whenever you
need to make a split decision in the moment, you automatically know exactly
which choice the correct one was. It’s like nothing I’ve ever seen, your gut
instinct. It could save the world one day.”
“You know me well. You recite things to me that I don’t verbally express,”
Hadrian said, wondering if Antinous’s advanced teachings with his well-educated
mentor had done him so well that he could now read minds from every bit of
movement a body could make. That was the undeniable psychological
conclusion—what the body did when the brain was thinking, not what the mouth
spoke.
“The day you need to tell me things I don’t already know about your feelings is
the day I am too old and frail to lift my own spoon,” Antinous said, stepping
forward and linking his arm with Hadrian’s.
“What would I be without you at my side?” Hadrian asked, tilting his head down
to lay it atop Antinous’s for just a moment of peace as they walked.
“You’ll never need to wonder such things, Hadrian,” Antinous asserted, glancing
up when Hadrian straightened and looking away with a smile when their eyes met.
“Because I won’t ever leave your side.”

~~~

Upon returning to the city, Antinous and Hadrian heard the screams first, saw
the mayhem second, but neither knew what to make of it, so they grabbed the
first running person they saw by the elbow and pulled them from the herd.
“What is this? What’s happening?” Hadrian demanded, eyes scanning the market in
case the answer was already staring him in the face. It wasn’t, though—only
proof here was chaos.
“S-s-savages!” the man blurted, his wide and teary eyes locked onto Hadrian’s,
probably debating if he was who he thought he was, but there was no time for
introductions. “Savages!”
“Where!” Antinous barked, taking a defensive stance against Hadrian’s back to
fend off potential threats. They probably didn’t look all that powerful at
their age, and maybe they weren’t, but Antinous could still give his life to
save Hadrian’s. He’d do that anytime at a second’s notice.
“F-from the west! They killed my—and the fires!” the man wailed, tripping over
his feet in an effort to get away.
Hadrian didn’t keep him any longer and let go of his arm, watching him stagger
back into the thick line of villagers that were determined to get as far away
as they could from the broad location of ‘west.’ Now the pair stood basically
alone, both minds working overtime to think up the best plan of action for the
time being.
“I don’t smell any smoke—he said fires?” Antinous asked, sniffing hard and
jumping to try and see further into the city but it was no use. “Do you see
anything?”
Hadrian looked over his shoulder at the Aurelian wall that guarded the city and
pursed his lips, turning back around to search the ground for nearby rope. “No,
but I think I can,” he grunted, jogging through the dust tornado on the path to
a bucket he’d spotted with a needed coil of rope inside.
He took it back with him and fashioned a loop with one end, using every lesson
he’d had concerning accuracy to remind himself how to actually do this
correctly. He stepped back and spun the looped end, throwing it up toward the
one spot with two cracks splitting down the stone to hopefully have it
catch—and it actually worked.
“I did it?” Hadrian asked himself, tugging down on the rope to make sure it
wouldn’t come loose and then grinning at Antinous, even in these trying times
when they had no idea what the state of their city was.
“Sometimes I wonder why I’m so obsessed with you,” Antinous said, sighing while
Hadrian impulsively walked up the wall to reach the top. “And then you do
something like this, and I remember…”
Hadrian knew Antinous had said something but he didn’t have the time to
respond. He scrambled up the last few steps to the top and swung his leg over
the ledge, hoisting himself up until he was precariously stood on the wall high
above ground and tried to get a good look into the city—that’s of course when
he saw it.
“Anything?” Antinous called up from below, shielding his eyes from the sun with
his hand to try and see Hadrian’s facial expression. Even from here he could
tell it didn’t look too good.
“Antinous…” Hadrian said, leaving him hanging as he squinted his eyes to
double-check if the plumes of smoke were coming from where they thought they
were...which happened to be the precise direction that his house was in.
He made a visual sweep over everywhere else and saw faint shadows of soldiers
and civilians alike running either to or from disaster, and something about his
elevation caused sounds he couldn’t hear on the ground to reach him much too
clearly—cries. Cries from not just the entrance to the city, but from
everywhere. Rome was indisputably under attack.
“Hadrian!” Antinous shouted, having lost a twinge of his patience after being
ignored.
“Antinous—we have to get to my house,” Hadrian said, breaking out of his
shocked stature and gracefully swinging himself back down to cascade the wall
without shredding his palms to pieces.
“What? What’s happening at your…” Antinous trailed, shutting up when Hadrian
grabbed his hand and began to sprint into the city, leaving him no choice but
to follow. “Can you—ah!” he cried, dodging a table covered in bowls and plates
when it toppled over at the hands of a panicking citizen who wasn’t looking
where he was going.
“Are you okay?” Hadrian took the time to ask, whirling around and yanking him
forward just as the ceramic items erupted into broken shards where his feet had
been.
Antinous could have been dying of a wound to the gut, but even then if Hadrian
pulled him into his chest and asked if he was okay, he’d say he’d never been
better. “Y-yeah,” he stuttered, studying the wild and desperate look in
Hadrian’s eyes and aching to know what it meant. What had he seen?
“Alright, come on,” Hadrian said with a few initiating nods, starting up the
sprint again and weaving like a snake through the crowds that were desperately
fleeing the complete opposite direction.
Antinous held on for dear life as he was dragged through waves of people,
focusing on just keeping a tight grip on Hadrian’s hand as he slid out of
oncomers’ paths. He had an inkling that maybe Hadrian would stop and go back
for him if their contact broke, but an even stronger suspicion that he
wouldn’t.
“Antinous, get down!” Hadrian yelled frantically, leaping back toward him and
tackling him to the ground just as they’d left the mouth of the alleyway.
“Hadr—” Antinous yelped, landing with a thud and grasping the front folds of
Hadrian’s tunic as he cluelessly wondered why he was all of a sudden in such a
protective barrier. A few wet coughs from somewhere behind them perked his ears
and he bent his neck back to search for the sound, gasping when he saw a man
mere steps behind them with a dagger in his torso and blood dripping down his
chin.
Hadrian looked up as well and gritted his teeth in anger, watching the man
stumble and keel over sideways for his death before spinning around to find
that barbarian attacker, and maybe if he was lucky, avenge his innocent Roman.
“Savage!” he growled, getting the man’s attention (because apparently he’d lost
it) and quickly scoping for a weapon.
“Hadrian? Hadrian, don’t—” Antinous begged, squeezing his eyes shut when
Hadrian decided he had to pull the dagger from the poor corpse’s stomach unless
he wanted to go in via fistfight. “Don’t you dare.”
“Stay here,” Harian ordered, running out into the unrecognizable courtyard to
confront the rather beefy enemy.
“Killing a child wouldn’t even be fun,” the man laughed, his eyes lingering on
the bloodied dagger in amusement before meeting Hadrian’s fierce glare. “You’re
a scary one, though, I’ll give you that. Was that your dear old man?” he
taunted, pointing his sword back through the alleyway at the unnamed body
sprawled out in the dust.
“And if it was?” Hadrian taunted, letting the attacker think whatever he wanted
so long as he didn’t catch on to Hadrian’s true identity.
“Then I’ll give you the honour of following in his footsteps one last time,”
the man snarled, lifting his sword at a combative angle and running forward
with an inhuman growl that didn’t phase Hadrian a bit.
Hadrian swept to the side and slid through the loose pebbles that littered the
ground, ducking right under the man’s swing and wrenching his right arm over to
slice somewhere near the backs of his enemy’s ankles. He would have known that
he’d hit his markwithout the loud squeal of torment, but the sound was a very
appreciated audible confirmation, and he couldn’t stop the menacing smile that
cut across his lips.
He turned like a spinning top to investigate the damage and saw the man in a
fetal-like arched kneel, his sword lying vulnerably a few steps away from him
while both hands gripped identical bloody messes just above his ankles. “Damn,”
he said, wiping his nose with his forearm while he looked around to make sure
sneak attacks weren’t in the making. “I aimed too high.”
“You swine!” the man gurgled, gritting his teeth and essentially screaming into
the void over his loss.
“Yeah?” Hadrian laughed, tossing his sword up in the air and catching its
handle to hold it tip-side-down while he approached the turtle of an enemy.
“Get out of my city,” he bit, using his second hand to steady the sword as he
plunged it down through the back of the man’s neck. He honestly would have left
him alive if he’d hit his mark correctly, but it wasn’t a bad enough wound to
bet ‘unmendable.’
Another few wet coughs and gasps rang through the air until all the muscle
twitching ceased, but once it did, Hadrian came back to himself and his
mission, yanking his sword out and dashing back into the alley to collect
Antinous and continue on. “Are you okay?” he asked as he knelt beside him,
holding his face in his left hand and wiping a single tear before helping him
up.
“I am, but I don’t know why this is happening. Where are the soldiers?”
Antinous asked, lost on why the streets were only filled with citizens and
merchants fighting back, versus the military, who should be dispatched all over
this area.
“If they’re not here, then there’s trouble at Palatine,” Hadrian surmised,
sending quick prayers to Jupiter to keep all his mentors and trainers in one
piece so he could keep growing strong enough to defend his city from disasters
like this in the future. Without them, he was as good as Slashed-Ankle-Man.
“Come on,” he urged, realizing they’d stalled possibly a bit too long and
pulling Antinous forward while he ran through the courtyard to take cover in
the next alley to wait for opportune crossing moments, and repeat that cycle
until he was home.
It was during the fifth courtyard run-across when trouble arose again, but this
time Hadrian wasn’t the one to notice it—Antinous was.
“Hadrian, get down!” Antinous cried in a panic much like Hadrian had earlier,
flying forward and taking Hadrian down in a protective tackle, just as the
dagger that had been soaring toward them collided with a stone pillar, sending
marble dust down to trickle upon their clothing.
Hadrian grunted from the force of being pummeled into the ground and stretched
his neck sideways to get a glance at where the weapon had been thrown from,
quickly rolling Antinous off of him and leaping to his feet to go cut the man
down before he could harm anyone (possibly anyone else).
He dragged the tip of his sword through the ground as he ran, letting out a
battle roar and slashing across the man’s chest and torso before he could
retrieve whatever secondary weapon he was obviously fishing around his lower
back for.
Just as he turned to beckon Antinous to him, his peripherals caught a fresh
batch of enemies sprinting onto the scene and he stayed put, gulping as he did
a headcount and realized he was greatly incapable of defeating them all by
himself. “Jupiter,” he muttered, studying their tunics as they approached and
trying to figure out where they were from. He couldn’t be sure, but they almost
looked like the Celtic Gauls, which would be an extremely brave move for them
right now, but it would make the most sense.
“Antinous, run!” he called, taking a deep breath and steadying his sword,
preparing himself for the honourable death he was about to experience for the
sake of his country—he couldn’t ask for a better demise, but he’d be lying if
he said the time was a shame.
“No,” Antinous refused, suddenly right beside him with the previous enemy’s
dagger firmly clenched in his fist. Antinous wasn’t on the strong side of Roman
youth compared to his peers, and he couldn’t wield swords like Hadrian could,
but he was fast on his feet and had a pretty good eye for opportunities. In
other words, daggers were ideal, and now he had one. He wasn’t going anywhere.
“You go.”
“Antinous…” Hadrian said, trying to stand in front of Antinous as the current
group of enemies finally arrived and made a crescent half-circle around them.
“Go home, H!” Antinous demanded, forcing his leg in front of Hadrian’s to get
himself in front instead.
“I’m not leaving you!” Hadrian cried, jolting when footsteps suddenly covered
all the space behind them. Both boys spun around in shock, but were all too
relieved to discover it was a hearty gathering of their own forces, who could
not have come at a better time. 
“Then leave us,” the frontman said, nodding at Hadrian and cocking his head
toward the Imperial Palace, where the Aelius household stood close to.
“Come on,” Hadrian said to Antinous, deciding now was not the time to add
anything else or thank the newcomers, or ask if they were sure, or anything
else stupid and pointless like that.
“No, H. Just go... GO!” Antinous nearly shrieked, enraged when Hadrian didn’t
budge and physically kicking him in the right direction. “I’ll be fine, go!”
Hadrian grimaced and got his last looks at his beloved best friend, nodding
with glassy eyes and running two steps backward before fully turning around and
heading off to his domus, never looking back even though he hated himself for
it.
He had to trust in Antinous’s decision; in his ability to hold enemies at bay;
even if the odds were low that he could get by unscathed. Be careful, he
thought to his wonderful Antinous, swallowing all emotion and getting himself
back into fight-mode because he highly doubted he could take any manner of
break yet.
He ran through two more open courtyards like the nearby fires were under his
feet, only slaying two and a half more assumed Gauls before making the sharp
left he needed to use the shortcut home. He says ‘two and a half’ because the
third was struck with a fatal wound, but Hadrian hadn’t actually witnessed him
die...so he couldn’t count it.
There were far less enemies this way through the narrow alleys he was coursing,
but the body count was actually higher, which meant the military had long since
sweeped this part of the city, and he was eternally grateful for that ease of
passage. Jupiter knew he didn’t need unending squads popping up out of nowhere
now that he was truly alone.
The stench of blood, metal, scorch, and rot filled his nostrils like a plague,
forcing him to cover his nose and mouth as he ran so he wouldn’t stop to vomit.
Screams and clashes of swords still rang out clear as the sky beyond the smoke-
riddled atmosphere, but the new sounds as he closed more distance began to take
precedence—the roar and crackling of the fires.
As the sound grew louder, the quality of the air decreased significantly, and
it wasn’t long until he was hacking and coughing on the thick tendrils of the
fire’s breath. The fear in his heart reached a precipice as he came upon the
last twisted turn through the back-alleys, and he halted at once before he
rounded the corner, turning his face skyward and whimpering in fright because
the largest, most menacing billow of black smoke in his present view was rising
right above what he knew—just knew—to be his home. 
He held a hand over his chest and wiped at his stinging eyes, taking a
shuddered inhale and holding it for all it was worth, then leaped into the open
path, losing that carefully-constructed breath in an instant because it was one
thing to know you were right about something horrific...it was another thing to
see it right in front of you.
“No,” he choked, dropping his sword without a thought and stumbling toward the
heartbreaking sight of his home, his life, helplessly overtaken by invincible
orange licks of flame that Pluto himself could not recreate with such grand
density. His home was a shell; burnt to a black skeleton of itself; and no
architect could ever hope to repair it as is, but that was the last thing
Hadrian cared about.
The first thing was his family.
“Mother!” he bellowed at the beast before him, begging it to open its
incendiary jaws and release whatever precious prisoners it held. “Father?!” he
tried next, fighting against his body’s desire to run in the opposite direction
and walking even closer to the skin-boiling heat brewing from within. “Auron!”
He reached the front admittedly pointless thin door and beat against it
repeatedly, screaming without much coherence and coughing with every breath as
he tried to get in the only way he could see wouldn’t immediately kill him. He
gave that up quickly after many a failure and walked along the side faces of
his domus, studying all arched entrances (no luck) and jumping to peer through
lookouts, but the drapes which covered them were just as enveloped with angry
flares as everything else.
“Someone! Help!” he howled as he returned to the front garden, his lungs
rattling in protest and vision blurred to an incapacitating degree as he
remained in the place that could probably kill him if he stayed any longer. Did
he care? No. There was one passing thought where he realized his family may
have gotten out, and he was yelling at an empty foundation, but if that were
true, why was his heart so close to shattering? Why did he hurt so miserably
bad, inside and out?
“Momma!” he shrieked with a newfound energy, tripping over himself back to the
front door and kicking it over and over with all his usable might, but his
movements were clumsy and unfocused, and he ended up right on his back, staring
up at the petrifying monster he grew up in and sobbing even without the
physical capacity to do so when the door itself lit up in flames. “Help,” he
wheezed, raising a shaky hand up toward the eastern side of the atrium, in
other words his parents’ cubicula, and begging the heavens to do something.
Please. I can’t lose them—not like this. Please...hear me…
His world began to darken, probably from lack of everything healthy around him,
and he accepted his pitiful fate, getting the inkling it meant death and
reconciling that with the excuse of ‘at least I tried.’ He kept his gaze on
where his parents would most likely be for as long as he could, knowing if he
ever did wake back up after this, he would miss them until the impossible
deaths of the Gods.
He thought he might have heard someone yelling for him, but as his reaching
hand lifelessly dropped to his side, the time really came, and he lost whatever
knowledge he had on that fact, succumbing to whatever afterlife awaited him,
and that was that.
“Mother!” Hadrian shouted into the misty world of silver and grey, finding his
legs were stuck and would not move him in her direction. “Mother!”
His mother slowly turned, as a gathering of fog itself would, and the mist
parted to reveal his father right beside her.
“Father!” he called in surprise, reaching his arms as far as they could go and
swinging his arms as though he might swim through the colourless air that
sought to plant him.
“Not yet, baby—stay where you are,” Paulina said with a sad shake of her head,
drying tears and gripping her husband’s hand, unable to keep from walking
backward and furthering herself from Hadrian, whose fruitless attempts to
follow were getting desperate.
“Don’t leave me! Wait!” Hadrian wailed, pulling at his legs with both hands to
release his feet but no effort prevailed. “Wait!”
“Never stop striving,” his father pleaded, waving in a manner that was far too
conclusive for Hadrian’s liking. “Never forget who you are—and what you’re
meant to be.”
“Father,” Hadrian sobbed, losing his grip in the realm he was trapped in
entirely as it, and his parents inside it, began to fade into black. “Come
back! Don’t do this! Come b—”
Hadrian shot back into the world he’d left like an arrow, overcome with an
inability to breathe or see, but he knew in general where he was. And he knew
what that vision had been. He knew tears were streaming down his face, but he
hadn’t the muscles to even open his eyes, much less dab at tears he knew
wouldn’t stop anyway. He was on his own now. Forever.
“Hadrian!” a voice boomed anxiously, coming from somewhere right above his
face. “Hadrian, please wake up,” it begged, the voice’s owner shaking his
shoulders and giving him an even better idea of exactly where he was and how he
was positioned—which was apparently somewhat on someone’s lap. “Jupiter, please
help him. H!”
The use of the simple ‘H’ told Hadrian everything he needed to know, and as he
was mustering up the strength to open his eyes, a jarring amount of water was
dumped on his face, and it advanced the waking process to instantaneous. His
eyes flew open and he gasped nonstop like the croaks of the dying, trying to
hold onto the comfort of being cradled in Antinous’s arms as he cried loudly
into his neck.
“Hadrian—I thought I’d lost you,” Antinous whimpered, sniffing hard as he rose
from Hadrian’s shoulder and getting a good look into his open eyes. Hadrian
went to say something, but he shushed him, scooping water from the bucket he’d
somehow acquired and holding a small bowl to Hadrian’s mouth. “Just drink
this,” he ordered, holding the back of Hadrian’s head and helping to ease the
water down his throat.
Hadrian took two sizeable gulps before the water got stuck somewhere, and then
he was coughing and spitting to the side, shuddering and shaking while Antinous
whined and stroked his damp hair. “Hadrian, what were you thinking? Were you
really gonna leave me like that?” he cried, holding him tighter and almost
rocking back and forth from the intensity of his relief.
Hadrian groaned and grunted from the pain that wracked his whole body, looking
around them to get a sense on their location, but the only things he could
decipher were the traits ‘narrow alley’ and ‘decently far from the smoky air.’
His tears sprung back up again and he curled into the only source of
consolation he had left, trying to make room in his cooked throat for words but
it was a difficult task when so much else wanted to fill the space.
“They’re...gone,” he managed, coughing some more and then merely repeating the
same phrase when he found the chance.
“I’m so sorry, Hadrian. I’m so sorry,” Antinous said, at a loss for anything
else in the world he could say at a time like this. “I’m so sorry.”
Hadrian squeezed his eyes shut and cried harder, now officially broken since he
hadn’t received an immediate reply of, “No they’re not.” It was real now. It
was all real. He’d been orphaned. Did he even still have Auron? Was Auron still
missing? Had he come home? He didn’t even remember if Auron had still been in
foreign land, or if he’d returned, and he didn’t have the energy to ask either.
He would just have to wait and see...what was there left in the world to wait
for, though? Being Emperor? Was that still important? How could it be…
In a flash faster than a blink could take place, thunder cracked across the
newly-formed clouds, and rain like he’d never seen before pelted down on the
city, proving the Gods were merciful at best, but not to his surprise,
laughably late. “Do you think this makes up for it?!” he bellowed to the sky,
hacking up the taste of singed blood from the force and resuming as though it
hadn’t happened. “Do you think this is enough?!”
“Hadrian,” Antinous breathed with a voice coated in sympathy, hoping to steer
Hadrian off the track of cursing the Gods lest he get cursed himself. “Look at
me.”
Hadrian looked, out of anger if nothing else, but the look on Antinous’s face
splashed the anger away, much like the current Olympian rain upon Rome’s fires
(yes, there had been multiple, though he hadn’t the mind to care about the
others at the time), and his face lost its rage, melting to calm curiosity
instead.
Antinous’s hand rose to Hadrian’s cheek, and his eyes flicked between both of
the green ones in their field, biting his lower lip in contemplation and
appearing very unsure of something Hadrian didn’t even have the will to guess.
“Antinous—” Hadrian whispered, getting his sentence shockingly cut off with a
kiss he never would have seen coming if he was in the rightest of minds. His
eyes stayed wide open at first, even if the rain annoyed them to no end,
because processing this joining of lips was proving to be in the range of
impossible, but seeing how heavy Antinous’s emotions were in his troubled
eyebrows awakened his own treasured love, and his eyes closed of their own
volition. A moment of bliss in this chaos may not have been something he felt
like he deserved, but he wasn’t going to deny it.
He lifted his hand and weaved his fingers into Antinous’s drenched hair,
holding him right where he was and documenting every detail of this moment into
his thoughts, digging out a permanent spot in his memories to have this sit
forever, until long after his own death. Even though they were young, certainly
inexperienced, and undeniably naïve to certain ways the world worked, they’d
both known for a while what it felt like to be around each other, and that
feeling was generally referred to as ‘whole.’
Their tears mixed together on Hadrian’s cheeks, unable to differentiate, and
when they’d both gotten what they needed from the unexpected kiss, they eased
apart, establishing prompt eye contact to silently speak about what had just
happened while they waited for the courage to use words.
The gnawing pain of today fell back down on Hadrian like it was in every drop
of rain, but somehow, lost in Antinous’s eyes, he could only just hold it at
bay...and accounting the gravity of the anguish in his heart, that was enough.
He surrendered to Antinous’s gaze like it in itself was his guardian, seeking a
solace that was a lot to ask for, but Antinous met that task with every fibre
of himself he could give.
“Antinous,” Hadrian said simply, smiling weakly when Antinous fitted his hand
over Hadrian’s that was still in his hair.
“Use me—for everything and anything you need for the rest of our lives,”
Antinous said, not even a hint of second thoughts in his demeanor. He knew what
he wanted out of life, and it was the shivering boy in his arms—and he’d known
that for a while now. “I will live for you...and only you.”
“Antinous,” Hadrian repeated, only a tad ashamed he couldn’t offer all the
words he knew he had in him, but if Antinous was as serious as he thought he
was, he knew he’d have time later. For now, a powerful surge of exhaustion
swept over him, and his hand began to fall as his muscles numbed, caught at the
last second by Antinous and softly lowered to his own chest.
He tried to keep his eyes open, but it was a losing battle, and before he knew
it, his consciousness slipped out from under him like a pulled rug—he could
only hope the celestial beauty of Antinous’s smile as a last sight would bring
him pleasant dreams, far away from the nightmare of the real world for just a
while. Just a while was all he asked; he could (and would have to) deal with
reality later. He just needed a minute.
Chapter End Notes
     literally everyone knows who set that fire. I mean not Rome, but you
     certainly do.
***** Smirks Behind Backs *****
Chapter Notes
     Good god. My life consists of studying Korean, and that's it. I'm
     terribly sorry, but I literally study from like 8pm to 7am and it
     just doesn't leave much room for writing. That said, I obviously
     understand this is a duty and priority of mine, but by the time I'm
     done with all the mock exams and lessons, I just want to sleep. I'm
     gonna take a break pretty soon and get back to more of this, but
     yeah, just thought I'd let you know what I've been doing. It's verrry
     hard to focus on anything else; nearly impossible. I regularly just
     turn off my phone or throw it across the room if someone tries to
     call me during studying lol. It's a space which nothing can enter.
     Well, anyway, I'm halfway through the next chapter regardless, so
     once I get that done, I'll throw it out. Sorry once again for making
     readers wait, I never wanted to be this kind of writer.
     This...might be the last story I do. If not the last period, the last
     for a very very long time.
     I thought you should know that :/
     Maybe I've just gotten burned out, but all the passion I used to have
     for it is pretty hard to find these days. I think I was just put here
     in this fandom to write Love Endless. That was my purpose. And once
     I've done that, I think my work is done. Everything preceding it was
     just leading up to it. This was a big part of my life last year, and
     it was very important to me, and it's gonna be it. I really do think
     that. I don't wanna set false alarms, but I'm pretty confident in
     that assumption.
     So...we'll see, but thanks for everything you've given me, and I
     swear to fuck I will finish this god damn book.
See the end of the chapter for more notes
“Any change?” Hadrian heard a voice ask, accompanied by several footsteps and
the setting down of some kind of item on a table near his head.
“No,” a deeper voice answered, sighing after the negation and giving off the
impression of woe.
Hadrian knew staying still would only further his visitors’ concern, but when
he tried to fully wake himself up, he found out pretty quick that all his
muscles had gone on strike. His throat still felt like it was passing tiny
blades in and out with every breath, his lungs were clenching and stinging with
a dull yet ever-present ache, and his skin felt much too sensitive, as though
he had contracted a foe of a sunburn that he’d have for the rest of his life.
Not too great.
Even still, he attempted the very movements that would alert his company of his
state of mind, going for hand and finger twitches, but when that didn’t seem to
do the trick (possibly because no eyes were on him), he jumped to audible
methods, grimacing as he cleared his throat because wow did that hurt.
“Hadrian!” the higher voice, which Hadrian now knew belonged to Antinous,
gasped, footsteps leading him up to the bed where he sat down and took ahold of
his nearest hand.
“Mm,” Hadrian groaned in response, squeezing the hand he was suddenly holding
like a lifeline for it was the only one that could drag him straight from the
pit of the Underworld. Or, more simply, give him the will to leave an apparent
coma.
“Can you open your eyes?” Antinous asked, petting Hadrian’s hair and leaving
his hand on his forehead for what felt like a curious temperature check. “Are
you okay?”
In spite of everything that Hadrian had to whine about, Hadrian found himself
chuckling instead, forcing his eyes open to gaze into Antinous’s, which were
predictably welled with tears—but hopefully ones of joy. “‘Am I okay,’” he
repeated with a snort, grunting in pain as he tried to sit and allowing the
immediate help that Antinous offered to lean him up against the back wall.
“What else should I be asking right now?” Antinous asked, concern painted over
his every feature while he looked all of Hadrian up and down to assess his
status.
“It’s me that shou—ah, fuck,” Hadrian coughed, wheezing like a poorly-made
flute and hacking behind his fist as Antinous rhythmically patted his back.
“Just take it easy,” Antinous murmured, turning the pats into circular rubs
while they waited out the coughing fit.
Once Hadrian’s lungs were temporarily freed, he gave a careful sigh and roughly
slammed his head back against the wall, staring at the ceiling in contempt and
slowly shaking his head. He still couldn’t believe what had happened. Had he
really lost his parents? Was Rome okay? He had a lot of questions for the
aftermath he’d missed out on, but the urge to actually address any of them was
on the doorstep of nonexistent.
He wondered how long he could live in denial before someone gave him the
lowdown, but that was answered when Marcius pushed the archway curtain aside
and stepped into the room.
“Hadrian—you’re up,” Marcius said with an outward expense of breath, placing
his hand on the shoulder of his doctor to prompt his departure from the room.
The unnamed doctor did just that, and Marcius looked to Antinous next, raising
his eyebrows and cocking his head to the side to command the same of him, but
Antinous had other plans.
“I’m not going any—”
“Antinous,” Hadrian cut in, giving him a loaded look that said they could talk
later.
Antinous bit his lip in protest. “But—”
“I’ll be alright,” Hadrian assured, touching his palm to Antinous’s face and
lightly pushing him away from that contact until he gave up and backed out with
a nod of reluctant understanding.
Marcius watched him go and poked his head through the curtain to make sure the
two were actually departing and not just hiding behind the wall, then he sighed
and moved toward the bed, taking up the spot Antinous had just left and
dropping his hand down on Hadrian’s wrist. “Do you want...I mean, what kind of
news should I…” he faltered, losing all the confidence he’d previously had for
this conversation before he’d actually been in Hadrian’s presence.
“Just...categorize it yourself,” Hadrian said unhelpfully, too afraid to
actually mention his parents and hoping Marcius would just do it anyway.
“Alright,” Marcius agreed, deciding to just let loose on all the pieces of
information that were most important to cover at this particular time. “The
attack started with the fires, the Gauls invaded afterward through the north-
western gate. It’s still unclear what or who exactly started with the fires,
but going by the rate of destruction, your home was hit fairly early on. Your
parents…” he paused, losing his words from Hadrian’s blank eye contact and
hating every second of this confession.
“Marcius,” Hadrian said dispassionately, nodding his head to encourage the
worst news he’d probably ever have to hear.
“First off, Auron hasn’t been found. But your parents were both inside, and
they didn’t make it,” Marcius said in a rush, gripping Hadrian’s wrist tighter
when he merely closed his eyes in sorrow. “But...after the rain put the fires
out, and we went to check, we found daggers in both of their chests—so...they
died beforehand.”
Hadrian’s eyes snapped open and he sat upright in fast-motion, ignoring every
urge he had to cough and piercing Marcius’s eyes with his own, which probably
looked as manic as Auron’s could. “They were murdered!” he spat in shock, going
over that fact and how different the situation now was. This changed a lot.
“Who...what…”
“We have no idea. The Gauls are a good enemy to pin it on, but they were so
specifically targeted, so there’s holes in that theory. That will be the
official conclusion, so be careful how you approach this, but I’m telling you
right now, since you deserve to know, I’m skeptical,” Marcius said quietly, the
lines in his forehead proving he’d been agonizing over this since he became
aware of it.
Hadrian didn’t have much to say; his mind and thoughts were in more turmoil
than his body had been in front of his engulfed domus, and though his current
emotional blockage was fairly impressive, he didn’t know how long it would
last, or what would set it off. Best to stay silent at a crossroads like that.
Marcius knew that Hadrian’s inner thoughts would be a downright mess, so he
jumped right into other random facts he could supply, hoping Hadrian was paying
enough attention to somewhat take them in. “You’ve been asleep for two days,
Auron still hasn’t returned, the city is still being mended from the damage,
nearly all our enemies were slayed trying to escape, we suffered twenty three
lives lost, and Trajan has officially adopted you and your brother. You’re to
move into Palatine Hill when you are recovered, and Auron will have to be sat
down and briefed on this when and if he returns,” he finished, rethinking
everything he knew and making sure he hadn’t missed anything crucial.
“He’ll be back,” Hadrian said surely, fearing that return more than the
prospect of never seeing him again because how could he possibly fill his twin
on something like that? What would his reaction be? That could be the thing to
truly do him in...it was best he stayed away. “Did you say adoption?” he asked
from his belated comprehension.
“Yeah, of course. You’re next in line to the throne. Without your parents,
Palatine would inevitably take you in,” Marcius said, setting aside his tough
soldier front and pulling Hadrian in for a hug. “For what it’s worth, Hadrian,
words can’t express my grief for you,” he said onto the top of his pupil’s
head, pretending not to notice the small shudder through Hadrian’s spine that
hinted at falling tears.
Hadrian clenched his fist around the fabric of Maricus’s tunic at his chest,
lightly beating his forehead just under his mentor’s collarbones while he
fought against the especially loud sobs he needed to let out.
“It’s okay, Hadrianus,” Marcius said, petting the nape of his neck and
experiencing some lip trembles of his own. “I’m sorry Rome couldn’t protect
your parents. I’m sorry Rome failed you,” he said sincerely, able to admit when
his great Empire had fallen short on expectations.
“It’s not Rome,” Hadrian said at once, the ingrained, undying love for his
homeland making an appearance to release it of all accountability. “But someone
in here has a deathwish for me to grant. I swear here and now, with you as my
witness, that whoever ended the lives of my mother and father will die by my
hands. I will take a dagger, and I will stab them straight in the skull,” he
snarled, wrenching away from Marcius because he was now fuming with anger, and
anger did not need nor wish to be consoled.
“I offer my strength to ensure you see your revenge,” Marcius pledged, sensing
the visitation time was just about up and rising onto his feet. He then did
something that came quite naturally, surprising or not, and knelt on one knee,
crossing his right fist over his heart and bowing his head. “By the Roman blood
in me, they will pay for what they have done.”
Hadrian grunted in acceptance and continued to marinate in rage, barely
noticing when Marcius took his leave and certainly not when Antinous crept up
to the curtain and peeked inside. He felt like hot water just before it
bubbled, and his limbs were on the convulsing side of shaking, his breathing
labored like steam, and he was about to erupt like Vesuvius had when he was
three years old. Everything in his path was Pompeii.
Taking advantage of an energy surge that couldn’t have come at a more useful
time, Hadrian leapt out of bed, grabbing the first thing he could (a bowl of
water for either drinking or cleaning, he couldn’t tell) and chucking it at the
opposite wall with a mighty roar, watching and listening to the satisfying
outcome of its magnificent shattering.
He then took the wooden stand it had come from and lifted it high above his
head, swinging his arms down toward the floor and smashing it in half,
continuing to demolish its pieces until all that remained was stakes and
splinters.
He then took those remnants and threw them aimlessly about the room, creating
quite the scene luckily without an audience, but he doubted his feral screams
weren’t reaching nearby ears. Whatever. Let all be witness to his rage—when he
was Emperor, these kind of episodes would instill terror into battle heroes
anyway. He couldn’t wait for all to cower from his wrath. He couldn’t wait to
dismember every enemy he ever made from here on out. He couldn’t wait to—
“Hadrian!” a voice cried out in anguish, startling him with its proximity, but
before he could turn, two arms wound around his torso and constricted the
majority of his mobility.
“Get off me!” he growled, throwing his weight backward and wrestling as he
stood with this random intruder.
“H!” Antinous yelled again, at least getting Hadrian to stop now that he knew
who was touching him. “Hadrian…” he sobbed without a proper point to make, not
wanting to tell him to stop, or console him either, so he was stuck. What was
he trying to accomplish here? Why had he run in and not just stayed where he
was? What could he possibly hope to offer? He didn’t know any of the answers;
he just knew he couldn’t stand there and watch this unfold.
Hadrian lost all the strength in his legs and all the pain his adrenaline had
set aside began to crawl back through his body, bluntly reminding him of his
damaged lungs and aching skin. He relinquished the rage for now and groaned in
disappointment, stumbling and toppling down to the ground with Antinous
struggling to keep up and maintain some order of balance.
In the end, he became a sprawled heap on the ground surrounded by sharp pieces
of broken wood, not fighting back at all when Antinous pulled him backward
until he was lying back against his chest between his legs. In this position,
the mere scent of Antinous did wonders to calm him down completely, and the
arms around him felt like a cage of safety from a realm of utter, unstoppable
danger.
Funny effect, Antinous had. Though Hadrian would always have to be the one to
protect him, for some reason, Antinous still embodied the feelings of safety.
Like he had personally fought off every monster in Hadrian’s nightmares since
birth; like he’d put a stop to every fall or entanglement before an injury;
like he’d been able to halt every tear just before it flowed down to his
cheeks. He hadn’t accomplished even one of these three unreasonable concepts,
but that obviously wasn’t the point. However unrealistic those scenarios were,
the emphasis here was on the realness of his feelings regardless.
And plus, even if Antinous wasn’t prone to being a fierce guardian, he had in
fact somehow gotten Hadrian to safety, and most definitely saved his life that
day, and that wasn’t something Hadrian or anyone else could ever discredit.
Antinous was much more than a safe space now—he was a hero.
“Antinous, you,” Hadrian rasped, twisting up so he could look at his one and
only love and savior. “You—it’s you,” he said vaguely specifically, his wide
eyes scouring Antinous’s face and taking in the beauty and emotion that gave it
such awe-inspiring vibrance.
Antinous couldn’t conjure a reply so he simply nodded, both hands coming up to
cradle Hadrian’s head and futilely wipe at his tears. They stayed staring at
each other while their tears did the talking for quite some time, documenting
the moment however tragic because it was one of those moments in life that
would stay in the heart forever.
With that knowledge also came the realization that forever was an entirely
unreachable concept, and even the now was uncertain, so they joined their lips
as though they were seconds from death, timbering over and winding around each
other like vines as they touched and kissed the torment away.
The cold ground couldn’t hold a torch to the heat in their souls, and the
thorny wood shards may as well have been petals from the softest of roses.
Their salty tears could have been drops from a freshwater lake, and Hadrian
would just attribute the heaviness suffocation in his chest to Antinous’s
physical weight as he pulled him over to lie on top of him. There. Nothing bad
in this world was left for now. Every curse reversed, every death prevented.
Let’s just go with that.
Time, as complicated to understand as it already was, steadily became the
world’s greatest wonder, and it could have been minutes or days before they
finally pulled apart, but Hadrian only knew he felt like a changed man once
they did.
Still on the unforgiving floor, Hadrian floated on his cloud, admiring
everything about Antinous he already had been with a passion over these last
few years: his big brown eyes with their long lashes, the almost-straight wavy
hair, slender nose, his thin but capable lips that met his own full ones like
the size difference didn’t exist, the splash of freckles that could only be
seen at these kinds of proximities, and his overly expressive brows that defied
logic by being so thick but the opposite of a mess. He was the picture of
beauty, and Hadrian didn’t know if he truly knew that or not, but he’d spend a
long time telling him in case he disagreed. “I’m going to grow old with you.”
Antinous broke out in a grin and chuckled from the forward manner in which
Hadrian had professed that, shaking his head and getting out all following
bursts of laughter until he was done. “You do know you’ll have to wed a female
at some point,” he said, brushing their noses together to steal one more kiss
out of greed. A greed he would never apologize for as long as he lived.
“How disappointed she will be when she finds us tangled up in bed together
every night,” Hadrian said flippantly, failing to conceal his excitement over
how entertaining that would come to be.
“Neither of us know the first thing about bed entanglements,” Antinous pointed
out, a blush flying to his cheeks as he really put thought into giving his body
over to Hadrian—letting him take it like lovers do.
“Wrong,” Hadrian said with a wink, daring to slide his hands further down
Antinous’s back to stop just above his hips. “I know the first thing—it’s
everything after that I don’t understand. But we’ll teach each other. I’ll
learn you, and you can learn me,” he said, elated over the darkness within him
being so brutally overcome by such a glaring light, one only Antinous could
ignite.
“Well, I’m not touching another hair on your head until you fully heal,”
Antinous muttered, putting his love before his male desires and helping him off
the ground to force back in bed.
“Meaningless effort,” Hadrian said, scooting to the far side of the bed after
sitting and making it extremely obvious what he wanted to fill the space with.
“I can’t physically heal without your touch,” he said, reaching out for
Antinous and smiling when he gave in and joined him in bed.
“That is so not true,” Antinous huffed, laying his head down on Hadrian’s chest
and letting their legs come together in whatever random twist they were to
form.
“Is it not? Do you want to leave then?” Hadrian challenged, forcibly putting
Antinous’s head back over his heart when he tried to sit up and banter with
him.
“No,” Antinous said bashfully, sighing out all the pent-up stress that had
built since hearing the inner-city screams from outside the wall. More stress
was sure to come, but that particular one had disintegrated the moment Hadrian
said “you,” and now maybe he could the first wink of sleep in two days. “I was
already planning to tie myself to your side by the time we’re adults,” he said
with a snort, repositioning himself until he felt like he wasn’t putting so
much pressure on Hadrian’s healing lungs, “...now I think the Fates got our
threads in a knot.”
Hadrian closed his eyes and smiled in genuine peace, rather enjoying the mental
image of Nona, Decima, and Morta fussing over how big of an indistinguishable
mess their threads had become, inseparably woven just like Hadrian planned
their lives to be. “Good luck cutting that, Morta,” he said to the Parcae with
the heaviest burden, holding Antinous tighter and inviting any future the Gods
had planned so long as he could keep the boy in his arms. “You’ll have to cut
us both.”

---

“He’s what?” Harry asked as his fork clattered to the dining table, half of his
salad tumbling out of his open mouth while he stared blankly at Acilius near
the entry to the banquet hall.
“Auron—he’s back,” Acilius repeated, waiting for a reply while Hadrian finally
snapped his jaws and swallowed his bite of greens.
“W-where would he be?” Hadrian asked, quickly wiping his mouth and standing up
so abruptly that his chair shrieked against the floor.
“With Trajan, if I’m to understand,” Acilius surmised, scratching at his chin
and jumping out of the way when Hadrian suddenly trampled his way out of the
hall. “Shall I postpone your studies?” he called after him, sighing to himself
when he got not a breath of response from Hadrian and his one-track mind. “Take
that as a yes.”
Hadrian bounded through the halls of the palace, taking the staircases three
steps at a time to reach Trajan’s quarters, where he would then plow through
everything until he found them. Now in the right area, it didn’t actually take
him as long as he thought it would, for their voices floated through the
tablinum clear as the skies outside.
He made sure his footsteps were light and tiptoed to the mesh curtain of the
archway, catching his breath in a hurry so he could properly listen. He decided
right after that listening only would not suffice, so he carefully pushed the
curtain to the side, curling around the corner like a snake around a tree stump
to get his brother in his sights, an surreal vision after so much time apart,
and what had happened in that meantime.
“Come again?” Auron asked, his voice deeper than Hadrian remembered, his hair
longer, body taller. All in five months? he asked himself, shocked how much
could change when you weren’t paying attention to it. Have I grown like this
too?
“I said I was sorry I couldn’t protect them,” Trajan repeated, his hands folded
behind his back while he rocked ever so slightly on the balls of his feet,
something everyone knew he did when he was nervous.
“If apologies fixed everything, what would we need the military for?” Auron
retorted, dropping Hadrian’s mouth open in shock because no one, quite
literally no one, would ever speak to the Emperor in such a combative manner.
Auron, what the—
“Hmph, now look here,” Trajan grumbled like a bear, meticulously fixing his
beard while his eyes narrowed to slits.
“No, I’m sorry—I was out of line,” Auron said with a trembling tone, bowing his
head in respect and dabbing at his eyes, but Hadrian knew there were absolutely
no tears to dab. And that stopped time for a while as he debated the reason.
Auron was putting on a massive front, acting like he was emotional when he
wasn’t...but why? How? This was about their parents dying—the Gods could not
tell Hadrian that Auron didn’t care. Of course he cares...right? What are you
thinking, Auree?
“It’s alright, son,” Trajan excused, none the wiser concerning Auron’s act but
how could he see through it? It was suspiciously well-crafted. Hadrian was most
likely the only person who would see it for what it was—call it twin intuition.
“This is tough news to bear, and I hate to bestow it...but your brother is
perfectly safe,” he said, hoping to steer the mood of the talk and shed some
hope on Auron’s ‘sadness.’
“Is he…” Auron said, doing a piss-poor job of showing any glee over that remark
with such a monotonous tone.
Apparently it fooled Trajan once again, however, because the old man smiled and
gave three mighty pats to Auron’s shoulder. “He’ll be over the moon to hear of
your return. I’ll leave you to go find him—you two have much to talk about.”
“We sure do,” Auron said, sneakily removing Trajan’s hand out of irritation and
making it look like he was somehow still respecting his Emperor. “I’ll be going
then.”
Hadrian controlled the glare he was shooting at his twin and decided now was a
good time to take his hasty leave. He didn’t want his brother to know how much
he’d heard and seen, and if Auron had no desire to see him, even after all this
wait and everything that had happened in his absence, then Hadrian felt quite
the same toward him. Something’s different about you, Auron. More and more, I
know you less and less. But this time, it’s really bad...this time...you’re a
stranger.
The moment Hadrian was out of range to be easily seen or heard by his brother,
he picked up the pace of his escape, sprinting through the halls and looking
over his shoulder before he turned any corners just in case. He tried to think
of somewhere to go, but he was already headed in the direction of his cubicula,
and unless someone specifically pointed Auron the right way, he wouldn’t come
any time soon—if he even planned on it at all.
He reached his room at last and snuck through the door like coastal fog,
sighing from exertion and flopping down on his bed without looking, but he
probably should have.
“Oof!” came a muffled cry, belonging to only one possible individual, since no
one else would be in Hadrian’s bed.
“Antinous,” Hadrian chuckled, raising his weight off the lump he’d fallen on
and pulling the comforter down to uncover his hidden boyfriend—or at least,
what they’d kind of sort of decided upon since the fire attack. They hadn’t
like...you know...but someday for sure...just not yet.
“I was sleeping, how dare you,” Antinous mumbled, smiling with tired and
squinty eyes as he stretched his back.
“Why are you sleeping in my bed?” Hadrian asked, getting distracted by
Antinous’s shirtless self and wondering if everything else was just as bare.
“Shouldn’t you be at school?”
“Mehh, I didn’t sleep at all last night, so I figured one day of hooky wouldn’t
harm my entire future,” Antinous said, beginning to petulantly pull the cover
back up and supposedly go back to sleep but Hadrian wasn’t done.
“You still didn’t answer why you’re playing hooky in my bed,” Hadrian said,
keeping one finger clenched around his blanket to leave Antinous visible.
“Because it smells like you,” Antinous said, throwing a bit of attitude into
his tone because apparently Hadrian shouldn’t have had to ask that question.
“You drive me crazy,” Harian said fondly, bending down to press a short kiss to
Antinous’s lips. Though the moment was another epitome of his daily bliss, he
did have things on his mind that weren’t so happy, and he had to let Antinous
know now before he got surprised by it later. “Auron’s back.”
The colour drained from Antinous’s face as that name was uttered and he sat up
much too quickly, almost causing a face-to-face collision with the wide-eyed
Hadrian. “He’s what? He’s back?” he asked, scooting his butt back so he could
actually sit without using his hands for leverage.
“Yeah, I saw him with Trajan,” Hadrian said, still in deep thought over that
whole strange encounter he’d paid witness too. Was Auron really that cold
toward their parents that he wouldn’t shed a single tear over the news of their
death? Had he already known? If so, who had told him? Where had he even been?
Why wasn’t he rushing to his only brother as he had these thoughts?
“Whoa,” Antinous breathed as Hadrian’s head came crashing down onto his
shoulder, trying to get a good look at him but all he could see was curly hair.
“You okay?”
“I’m…” Hadrian began, content to hide in Antinous’s neck until tomorrow if it
meant not facing anything he probably should.
“Hayway,” Auron’s voice clearly spoke, causing a jolt through Hadrian’s body
and a roaring, almost comical gasp from Antinous.
“What do we do?” Antinous whisper-squeaked, his fright leaving him utterly
frozen like his skin had developed a thick coating of ice.
Hadrian waited for the telltale sound of his door opening and when it became,
he slowly retreated from his comfort zone, moving his eyes like blades of grass
in a faint breeze until they locked onto a pair that were all too familiar—all
too similar. “Auron,” he said, choosing not to begin the upcoming conversation
himself to see what Auron had in store for them.
Auron’s eyes trailed up and down the pair in hatred, noting the lack of
clothing on Antinous and the suggestive position of Hadrian hovering above him.
Both looked guilty of having been caught in an especially private act, but it
was also clear it hadn’t gone that far—so why did they look so afraid? They
should be, he said in his head, glad he had such an effect on persons he once
claimed friendship with...and even his brother, whom he once worshiped.
“What’s this?” Auron asked, pointing flippantly at Antinous and his twin and
scowling at them both when neither responded.
“Antinous, go feed my horse,” Hadrian said, turning Antinous’s eyes to him for
the first time since Auron entered the room.
“Go what?” Antinous asked, considering the command quite ludicrous given their
current stalemate.
“Or water some plants. Go fish, or dust some shelves, whatever, just—” Hadrian
huffed without finishing, lightly but pointedly pushing Antinous out of his bed
as he rolled his eyes and tossed his tunic to him.
“Ah, okay okay,” Antinous agreed, truthfully overjoyed to get out of this
atmosphere but still a bit worried about what he was leaving behind. Would
Hadrian really be alright on his own? He’d always been the stronger of the two,
so it seemed likely. “Good to—” a quick pause for a heavy throat clearing once
he realized he was standing before Auron in only his undergarments, “—see you
again, Auron,” he said, holding his tunic to his front as he side-slid his way
out the door. Then he was running.
Auron kicked the door closed once he left and spun around to face his brother,
who was now sitting innocently off the side of his bed with his hands on his
knees. “You know, I was actually excited to see you, Hayway,” he began,
crossing the room with slow steps while he kept his clenched fists behind his
back. “But you know, I don’t think you missed me at all. You never do anymore,”
he accused, leaning against the pillar closest to Hadrian’s bed and giving him
the chance to make his notorious excuses.
“Auron,” Hadrian groaned, amazed in the worst kind of way that Auron really
wasn’t bringing up their parents just like he suspected he might. “Mother and
Father are dead...and you’re lecturing me over having a boy in my bed,” he said
darkly, holding onto his temper because that certainly wouldn’t get them
anywhere. But his veins were boiling and he could feel his face and ears
turning red as he sat impressively still...how long could he keep this up?
“I’m aware. And you’re aware I’m aware; you wouldn’t have been hanging around
outside Trajan’s chambers with inattentive ears, now would you?” Auron said,
smiling when Hadrian’s head turned straight to him and he stood up in surprise.
“Yes, I knew you were there. You think louder than you shout.”
“Then you’d know why I’m not too keen on seeing you right now,” Hadrian said,
walking right up to his twin and stopping just before their chests would bump
against each other. Same exact height, he could tell now. Same timbre in their
voices, too. I guess I have changed.
“Because I wasn’t wailing like an infant?” Auron guessed with a sickening
smile, moving a hand up to Hadrian’s face and brushing his fingertips down his
cheek. “What did my parents ever do for me? Was I supposed to be a wreck? Cry
and beg the Gods to return them? What undying love should I grant them if I
never received it myself?”
“Auron, what are you talking about?” Hadrian breathed, taking Auron’s hand and
lacing their fingers together out of old habit. “They loved you—they always
loved you!”
“Allow me to enlighten you, you who has the memory and attention span of a
fish, on what really happened,” Auron seethed, ripping his hand out of
Hadrian’s and pushing past him with a harsh knock of shoulders. “They cast me
aside like an old forgotten olive under a table,” he said, ending his stroll at
one of Hadrian’s couches and taking an entitled seat. “They saw me as a pest,
and sought to exterminate me on many occasions.”
“That’s a lie,” Hadrian said, trying really hard to be convincing even though
he knew damn well it was the truth. His parents had sent out that order, but
Hadrian had killed the assassin himself before it could be carried out and had
his men dump the man’s body in the river Tiber.
He hadn’t been able to comprehend why at the time his parents would ever do
something like that, but once he was let in on the recent citizen woundings his
brother actually had committed, he’d understood it had been a sort of mercy
killing attempt. That never changed their love, and probably hurt them a lot to
do, and he’d had resentment over it, but...he’d understood.
“What pride can you possibly have lying like that straight to my face?” Auron
growled, leaping up from the couch and running up to Hadrian to grab him by the
throat.
“Auron,” Hadrian choked, closing his hand around Auron’s wrist and trying to
pry him off.
“You know what else? While you’ve been gallivanting around Rome like the whole
world is already in your palm, collecting treasures and bribes for respect and
publicly shaming your handful of powerless opposers, the Scribes have destroyed
all writings of me they ever made!” Auron bellowed, shoving his twin away with
all his might and tutting in disappointment when he heaved and coughed for air.
“Rome ate me alive, Hadrian. And now they’re erasing me from history. You tell
me what respect I should have for this nation, these people, our parents
included. The only thing I love is you, but where have you been? Slowly
forgetting about me too,” he said, retaking his seat and brushing his hair from
his face.
“Forgetting you—not bloody likely,” Hadrian muttered, taking deep breaths and
cursing himself for letting the fire’s smoke wreak such permanent lung damage.
It was generally fine to train and practice, but putting pressure on the throat
simply made him collapse. One of his only weaknesses.
“Really,” Auron deadpanned, scoffing at the mere notion and gesturing to
Hadrian’s unmade bed. “Me, I actually miss you when I’m gone. I miss you all
the time. I miss you now, and you’re right before me,” he added, unknowingly
showing a great deal of pain in his eyes before it disappeared without a trace.
“But you? All you care about is fame, glory, and that wretched Antinous. You
cast me away just like the rest of them, yet I catch you in bed with that boy.
You knew I was here, you saw me, and I have to come find you in his arms,” he
bit, turning away and regathering himself because he was beginning to sound
desperate.
“Fine, then what’s your excuse for the way you reacted when you heard I was
alive?” Hadrian fired back, knowing it was a pretty logical and inarguable
point because they’d both been there and he couldn’t back his way out of it.
“You couldn’t have sounded less thrilled.”
“You brainless swine, I already knew you were there!” Auron reminded rather
loudly, falling back onto the couch and rubbing at his face in irritation
before popping back up. “And even if you hadn’t been standing outside like a
creep, I already knew you were alive long before I even returned to Rome! I
knew of our parents’ death and the Gaul attack before I stepped foot back into
the city, he wasn’t telling me anything I didn’t know.”
“You knew? How?” Hadrian asked, taken aback by the comment and deciding he’d
much rather move the conversation along instead of admitting his earlier
argument had a few holes in it.
“Word travels fast, especially a piece of news as big as that. An attack on
Rome? That reached practically everywhere within a week,” Auron said, the heat
and sharpness of his words dying down into a casual tone because he’d expended
enough energy through anger. 
“Where even were you?” Hadrian asked, turning suspicious again and begging to
have this years-long mystery solved. “Where do you keep going all the time? Why
do you stay for so long? What the fuck are you doing behind Rome’s back? Behind
mine? You are so questionable, Auron, I don’t trust you at all,” he said,
knowing that last statement was stabbing himself in the foot on rebuilding this
relationship but he had to know, and he had to be honest.
“It’s none of your business, Hadrian. You don’t deserve to know a single thing
about me,” Auron said coldly, initiating an intense battle of glares in which
even blinking felt like a personal loss.
“You’re my twin, Auron. I know a lot,” Hadrian muttered after a cutting period
of silence, glaring with all his might and really feeling hurt by that brush-
off statement. Didn’t deserve to know? You slithering snake.
“You know nothing. Nothing of me,” Auron persisted, sacrificing the eye contact
contest because he couldn’t bear look at that face a moment longer.
“Whose fault is that?” Hadrian retorted, crossing his arms and looking away as
well if Auron was going to be like this.
“It’s—yours!” Auron shouted incredulously, bounding over in a second and
grabbing both sides of Hadrian’s face, making his lips squish together like a
fish as he grumbled in protest. “Everything! Everything under Olympia is your
fault!”
Hadrian had tolerated more than enough of this treatment so he knocked both of
Auron’s hands away and straightened up, considering for a moment that he ought
to punch him square in the nose, but then he did something neither had
anticipated—he hugged him. For reasons he didn’t understand, he smacked both
arms around his brother and held him like none of their dramatics had
transpired, and both boys underwent unexpected waves after waves of bliss the
longer they stood there.
“I wish I could hate you,” Auron whispered, broadcasting a hearty amount of
pain even with such a small voice.
“I love you,” Hadrian replied, refusing to give in to that kind of talk because
the opposite felt much better.
“I want so badly to hate you.”
“I love you.”
“If I ever get the chance, I’m going to hate you for all you’re worth.”
“I love you.”
“Jupiter, smite this boy,” Auron sighed, letting his tension melt away like ice
in the summer as he finally returned the emotional embrace. “You’ve changed so
much, Hayway. I barely know you.”
“You’ve changed too, Auron,” Hadrian said, not allowing that argument to stay
against him without reciprocation because that just wasn’t fair. They’d both
changed, and they knew it. They’d grown apart, and maybe Hadrian hadn’t been
the brother he should have been, but the evil that plagued Auron on a moment’s
notice had kept him far away, even side by side.
“I can’t help that,” Auron said, holding onto his pride even if there was no
point. But he was kind of right. Maybe he could help some things, and not let
his mind completely take him over every single time it asked, but there were a
countless amount of examples in which hehad tried, and it was like knocking on
a stone door. No one’s going to hear you wanting to come inside. So he’ll take
half the blame; leave the other half to his mental gorgons.
“Yeah, maybe so,” Hadrian snorted, sighing deeply like he wished to expel every
unit of air out of his lungs. “So what now?” he asked, finally backing away
from the lengthy and long overdue hug to face the present matters.
“We…” Auron said, rubbing at his chin and silently admitting that he had no
clue.
“Try to work things out—be normal again?” Hadrian asked hopefully, twiddling
his thumbs behind his back so he wasn’t outright showing just how much of a
nervous wreck he was.
“I...yeah,” Auron said, showcasing a glinting grin and nodding his head in full
support. “I’d like that.”
“No more running off?” Hadrian asked, knowing all too well that such a promise,
even if sincerely made, would never hold with this twin of his. Auron looked
just about ready to respond, but Hadrian cut him off, quick to assure Auron he
hadn’t really been serious. “Do whatever, Auron. Just tell me before you go.”
“That I can do,” Auron responded, a twinge of an almost worried nervousness
playing with his bitten lips that Hadrian chose not to bring attention to.
Something’s still not right with him.“Okay,” Hadrian said, rocking from his
heels to the balls of his feet and gesturing to the door with his arm.
“Dinner?”
“Sure,” Auron quipped with a pleased smile of contentment, falling in step
behind Hadrian when he turned and following him out into the hall. It’s almost
a laughable shame how his little brother never saw the victorious smirk behind
his back.
Chapter End Notes
     THAT LAST LINE GIVES ME CHILLS AND I WROTE IT.
***** A Beginning or an End? *****
Chapter Notes
     Hello again, here's another one, blahblah this this this, and some of
     that, yadda yadda underage warning but I don't get graphic. Hadrian
     was nuts, we all know that. Good to see you. You doing well? Eating
     good? Sleeping alright? Cool. If there's mistakes in this, lol my
     bad. I edited really fast cuz I was short on time. Slap me. Sorry for
     another lame ass chapter title, but you know me well enough now not
     to expect any better. Slap me again.
See the end of the chapter for more notes
                              *Three years later*
 
“Fuck, ‘Tinous,” Hadrian gasped, driving his pelvis forward again and again to
get his cock as deep into his boyfriend as he could. “You should feel
yourself,” he added breathlessly, nails digging into his lover’s hip bones
while his flexed arms helped push and pull him around.
“F-f-feeling you is enough,” Antinous rasped, returning to his high-pitched
mewls and squeaks while he let himself be owned.
“You both wear me out,” Marcius sighed, sat on the nearest couch from the bed
with his feet propped up on the table as he puffed on burning sage.
Being sixteen, Hadrian and Antinous’s sex drives had greedily called for more
than just themselves, and a shocking amount of Roman soldiers had accepted
offers to come to bed with them, but Marcius especially was what you would call
a regular. At first, Hadrian had been kind of uneasy asking his mentor, someone
who had played a part in raising him, if he’d be interested in something like
that, so he’d taken it slow.
He realized how attracted he’d been to Marcius as he grew older, and likewise,
he’d caught some lingering looks while sweating all over each other in
wrestling matches, so he’d returned the looks tenfold, making it blatantly
obvious what he was thinking, and things had progressed from there. Plus, even
if it had felt weird at first, being with Marcius really felt like being home,
having a family again, and he wouldn’t trade that for something as stupid as
being “appropriate.”
“Then take a nap, old man,” Hadrian panted, bending down and biting at
Antinous’s neck when he wailed in pleasure loud enough to interrupt the
conversation.
“I’m thirty eight, you brat,” Marcius grumbled, idly eating grapes while he
scratched at his naked stomach. “I may be getting up there, but the elder
scholars are the true old men here. We all hope to make it to an age like that,
whether we ever do or not. With age comes wisdom...I believe that makes you an
idiot,” he chuckled, popping a red grape into his mouth and sinking further
against the couch.
“You’re just jealous of my energy and shining beauty,” Hadrian said haughtily,
just missing the condescending eye roll of his mentor as he put his attention
back on his boyfriend.
“Hadrian, hurry up!” Antinous begged from below, startling and confusing
Hadrian who wasn’t used to such a request.
“What do you even mean—”
“I’m almost there, just make me come,” Antinous panted, arching his back to
lift his hips and making Hadrian’s passage that much easier.
“Apologies,” Hadrian agreed, releasing Antinous’s hips to plant both hands on
their bed and gain the proper leverage for the finishing race. Sweat dripped
from his forehead to his lover’s spine as he approached their finale, hoping he
came in time because Antinous always got snappy about sensitivity after he did.
As luck would have it, the mere sound of Antinous coming apart did Hadrian in,
and he (much to Antinous’s consistent gripes) spilled himself fully inside, and
deep at that, and both boys were a shivering groaning mess until the black
spots left their vision.
“Every...time,” Antinous heaved, twisting his head around to try and catch
Hadrian, but the angle was too inconvenient for such an action. “How do I come
like that every time?”
“Ahah, because it’s me,” Hadrian snorted, pulling himself from his spent lover
and wiping the leftover excess from his shaft onto their sheets. Worse had
happened to said sheets.
“Why do I spent my time with such a vain young man?” Marcius muttered, smirking
when both boys snapped their heads in his direction.
“Please. I could be a dear, it wouldn’t matter to you. It’s just the fact that
I’m the young man you so astutely pointed out,” Hadrian said with no shortage
of sass, scooting off the bed and tiptoeing on the cold floor to reach the
couch where Marcius was lounged.
“No, not over here. Not with that sweaty body—no!” Marcius laughed, giving up
the fight before it had begun when Hadrian heavily fell over his entire front,
the potent smell of sex filling his nostrils like a fog. He slapped Hadrian’s
back a few times while the boy boredly hummed as though he were innocent, but
he knew only tickling would do the trick of uprooting him. He wouldn’t be doing
that, though. There’s no way he’d ever want him to leave.
Would you?

---

“Hadrian,” Trajan’s impatient and irritated voice snapped for the fifth time in
this conversation, his beefy fingers rubbing at his temples as if this concept
somehow exhausted him more than Hadrian. “We’ve been over this time after
trying time. Sabina is a good match for you—her parents are practically paying
for our military, that money is especially valued right now, and you need to
produce an heir,” he stated, looking up from the floor panel he was glaring at
to meet Hadrian’s incredulous eyes.
“I can produce heirs without—”
“No, you cannot. If you want a bunch of illegitimate heirs running around the
palace, be my guest, but good luck getting Rome to accept them as their future
ruler. You need to marry Sabina, and I’ve let your refusals slide now for more
times than this fight is worth. It’s an order from your Emperor, and if you
keep fighting me, I’ll show you how scary I can really be,” he growled, a
foreign edge in his tone that did its job in making Hadrian gulp.
He’d never seen Uncle Trajan like this in his life.
“This family expects me to love their daughter. To be at her side until death
and treat her as my beloved Queen. You and I both know I can’t do that,”
Hadrian reasoned, crossing his arms to look solid, but really, he felt like he
was only doing it to protect himself.
“You can act—you already lie all the time to the masses. I’ve seen you flirt
with women, seen you twirl their hair in your fingers. I know you can make
Sabina believe anything you want her to,” Trajan said, his tone taking on more
of an encouraging pep-talk than a harsh lecture.
“That’s not the problem,” Hadrian sighed, sitting down hard onto the couch
behind him and slamming his forehead into his folded hands. “I can appear like
I’m everything she could ever want...but I mean the time together. I can’t
spend so much time with her, I can’t forsake Antinous for this act. I won’t,”
he added for double effect, shrinking down into his spine when Trajan rose and
slapped his authoritative purple toga behind him.
“Auron wouldn’t put up this kind of fight. He knew his place,” Trajan spat, the
words empty of conceivable threat (they couldn’t bloody swap now) but highly
effective in hitting Hadrian’s every nerve.
“Yes, let’s bring that psycho back into the palace,” Hadrian said, his tone
oozing and overflowing with sarcasm. “See how long it will take Rome to fall.
I’d give it a fucking week.” The harsh slap across the face, rings and all,
really shouldn’t have come as a shock.
“Just get out of my sight, insolent brat. This wedding is still on, you are to
be betrothed in two week’s time, and one slip-up—and I mean one, Hadrian—and
you’ll sorely regret ever being born into your bloodline,” Trajan warned, his
constant back and forth between moods giving Hadrian uneasy whiplash.
“Fine,” Hadrian snarled with his face cradled by his hand, left without any
smart choice in the world but to surrender. He knew sabotaging the wedding
would only end in assumed lashes, and then another wedding thereafter with some
different ‘worthy’ female. “But don’t test me, old man. We do this my way. I’ll
marry her, sure, and I’ll even emotionlessly fuck her until she bears a son,
but I’ll treat her however the fuck I want, ignore her as long as I want. She
won’t ever be my equal, or my true love. That spot is eternally taken.”
“You hormonal little—you can’t have everything, Hadrian. You need to start
learning how to make a fucking sacrifice or I’ll drop one on your plate you
can’t avoid,” Trajan sneered, snapping his fingers and jabbing his hand toward
his door to banish Hadrian until further notice.
“Duly noted, my Lord,” Hadrian grunted, forcing a respectful bow and rolling
his eyes as he spun on his heel and stomped toward the door. He hated fighting
with Trajan, he really did, and he never really had, but this recent and
suffocating pressure to marry a female had banged a dent into their
relationship. Perhaps it would boil over in due time, but for now...for now he
wanted to forcefully steal the throne right this second and send all young
Roman maidens into exile. Sabina, Queen to Hadrian...don’t make me fucking
laugh.

---

Hadrian reached his secret tree in his current form of steaming volcano,
ripping his sword out from its sheath and roughly staking it into the grass
with a throat-tearing growl. His entire body was coated in little hot tongues
of rage, prickling his skin and changing its very temperature.
A marriage. An unavoidable, unfair, unwanted or needed marriage. To a girl. And
not just any girl, but Vibia Sabina, the maiden desired by half of Rome. Half
the nation and certainly every noble family within its walls knew of her and
wanted her for themselves; there was a city full of men that would kill to be
in Hadrian’s place with that girl set up for them, and they frankly deserved to
have her. Anyone but me.
It wasn’t anything against Sabina, she seemed nice enough, and even he could
objectively tell how historic her beauty would be, but he didn’t want to be the
one staring at it all the time. She would want pieces of him he would never be
able to give, and breaking her heart because he didn’t want her was not
something he felt great about doing in the future. The poor girl would be stuck
with a stone wall when she could have ended up being worshiped her whole life
by any other eligible bachelor.
Well if I hate it, then it’s only fair you do. Maybe she’ll wish more for
herself and leave me. That would work out best for everyone...if only they
wouldn’t kill her for that.
A lot of thoughts were rushing through his head because they’d been forced onto
the topic. He’d put it off in his mind this whole time because that union had
always been such a far-off concept that he could deal with when he was ‘older.’
Now, though, with the news of its happening right around the damn corner from
this moment, nothing else could own his attention.
What would he do? He’d go through with it, because he had to, but what then?
How far could he push her away before shit got ugly? How much longer could he
keep Antinous by his side without Sabina telling her family, and her family
going after his deepest love with fire and blade? Antinous’s life would be put
in danger from this, and he knew that, but the sacrifice of keeping him safe
was leaving, and he’d rather marry Trajan himself and be a lapdog to him
forever than live without Antinous.
Perhaps it was the thoughts themselves that brought Antinous to him—maybe his
mind was sending out distress calls that only he could hear—but whatever the
reason for the perfect timing, there he was, quickening his pace across the
plain to the tree when he confirmed Hadrian to be under it.
He waved and began to call when the upright sword caught his eyes, and he
slowed before it, gripping the handle and uprooting it from the grass in one
swift tug. “Bad day?” he guessed, walking Hadrian’s sword to him and leaning it
against the tree when Hadrian didn’t acknowledge it whatsoever.
“They moved the wedding up,” Hadrian sighed, ripping a daisy out of its bed and
vexedly tearing its petals off because a flower seemed the most innocent thing
around he could destroy. Who knows what it would be if not a flower?
“I...I know,” Antinous agreed with a nod of his head, taking up his regular
spot on the strongest root beside Hadrian’s shoulder.
“What?” Hadrian asked, glancing up at Antinous to meet his eyes, eyes that
looked ablaze with love and acceptance. “Then why are you so damn happy?” he
grumbled, in sheer disbelief that he really was the only one upset about this.
“This affects you too, or doesn’t it? Do you not care as much as—”
“H,” Antinous snapped, pushing off the root with his hands and craftily landing
in a crouch just beyond Hadrian’s toes. “Shut that mouth or I’ll shut it for
you,” he warned, winning Hadrian’s momentary surprise at his behavior which was
the perfect opportunity to keep going. “You know I hate it—but I hate
complaining more. If we let this make us depressed, they win. We just have to
find a way around it. I don’t mind being your secret. I don’t mind sneaking
through halls in the dead of night. If I can just be with you, any way, I don’t
care about what the public sees.”
“Antinous, you deserve more than that,” Hadrian said, still pressing the matter
even though Antinous’s words had indeed lifted an uncomfortable weight off his
body. At least Antinous still wanted to be with him after all this.
“Well we don’t have a choice!” Antinous said, reaching out and taking Hadrian’s
hands in his own. “When all else fails, we have to settle for whatever we can
do in our power to get around them. We don’t have to beat them, or win, we just
have to stay together through the odds.”
“We could have a choice,” Hadrian said quietly, refusing to meet Antinous’s
eyes as he gazed up at the green and orange leaves of their special tree. “You
could run away with me and we could be together in the mountains for the rest
of our lives…” he said wistfully, knowing damn well that wasn’t a likely option
to obtain.
“Now I know you’ve lost it,” Antinous chuckled, denying the prospect of that to
enter his mind because he didn’t need to mourn over what he couldn’t have.
“It’ll be okay, Hadrian. I can wait. I can stand back or come forward whenever
you need me to—I understand,” he assured, kissing the hands he’d stolen for
extra measure.
“I don’t know how I would even breathe without you,” Hadrian groaned, darting
forward and collecting Antinous into his arms like a doll, limbs of both boys
flying every which way as they tumbled to embrace on the ground. “Please, I
know it’s selfish...but please don’t leave me. I really don’t think I could do
this without you.”
“H, I’m never going to leave you. You’d have to kick me out, or I’d have to
die,” Antinous said, kissing every patch of skin on Hadrian’s chest he could
get to without a neck cramp.
“Well don’t do that either,” Hadrian ordered, suddenly terrified of Antinous
dying on him while he was powerless to stop it. Would such a cursed concept
ever see the light? If he was any kind of God-chosen Emperor, he had to assume
there’s no way it could. I’ll protect you, I promise.
“Yeah, I won’t,” Antinous agreed, wondering if that was true enough for the
Gods to intervene if he was ever in danger. Did they approve of this
relationship? He figures they’d find out someday—some day when they passed
through the gates. “Not on your watch.”

---

After leaving Antinous by his domus (with enough kisses to hold him off for the
night and then some), Hadrian trudged through the gates to the Palace, nodding
at the guards that gave him the classic salute he’d grown to roll his eyes at.
Not like he’d make them stop, nor would they even if he did, but he didn’t like
it during the times he wanted to be alone; it felt like the whole word was
pointing at him.
He took less crowded passages to his room once he’d escaped the hot sun of the
outdoors, noting the dirt caked under his fingernails and making a mental note
to have one of the slaves draw him a bath when the sun set. He sighed for the
hundredth time and quickened his pace to his own personal space, one of the
only places he could ever be without constant interruptions.
That freedom wouldn’t be seen today, though. For when he opened his door, not
only did he instantly gather it wasn’t empty, but once he walked in far enough,
he then realized who was in it. And what they were doing. Could this day get
any more…
There, sitting on his bed like he was allergic to respect and common decency,
was his brother Auron, evidently back home from another mysterious journey, and
joined by a servant boy of their own age, on his already bruised knees before
him with his head placed right in the center of Auron’s spread legs.
Hadrian just stood there for a second of calm agitation, taking in the
maddening sight of Auron receiving fellatio from a slave on his bed. His
brother, blind and deaf to Hadrian’s presence, sighed with a grin to the
ceiling, his fingers curling into the boy’s hair while he bobbed up and down on
what Auron had decided to fill his mouth with.
The sounds coming out of Auron sent a shiver down Hadrian’s spine because it
was almost like hearing himself if that were Antinous, but the mewls coming
from the slave were most unwelcome, and he couldn’t believe he’d let it go on
this long. “Out of the entire Imperial Palace, and you had to do this here,” he
said, tossing down his sword onto the center table and taking off the top
layers off his armor.
The boy jolted at the sound of Hadrian’s voice and pushed away from Auron with
an inhuman speed, but Auron took his sweet time giving any notice to Hadrian,
cracking one lazy open while he returned his cock to the confines of his
underwear and tugged his tunic down. “I was getting close too…” he said with a
pitiful pout, cracking the act and chuckling while he stood and approached the
boy still on his knees and caressed his hidden face. “Thanks for that. I’ll
find you later.”
“You won’t,” Hadrian said, stomping over to the boy and lifting his face by the
chin, blinking widely at the undeniable beauty he found from its features.
Shit, Auron. I don’t blame you.“You can take this body wherever you want in
Rome,” he said to his yawning brother, bending down to address his next words
to the scared rabbit on the floor. “But if it means my bed, or anywhere in my
chambers again, your entire family will die for it,” he threatened, smirking at
the terrified yelp he got in response. “Now get out,” he ordered as he pushed
him back, watching him bow and scurry out like his own life had been put on the
line.
“Why didn’t you just join?” Auron asked, like kicking the servant out had been
the lamest thing Hadrian could have done. “Why didn’t we ever fuck boys
together?” he wondered, sprawling back out on Hadrian’s bed and palming at the
finest quality silks and hemp fabrics from Asia. “Can you imagine how many
dreams we’d make come true?”
“Why are you here, Auron?” Hadrian asked, not rude but not friendly, a simple
question as he’d ask a member of the guard.
“Why am I ever here?” Auron retorted, flopping onto his back and running a
strand of fabric from Hadrian’s bed between his fingers. “To pay my respects
for my dear brother—to love him and cherish him as we did as children.”
“That’s the worst lie you’ve ever told,” Hadrian muttered, sitting down on his
couch and immediately wondering if Auron’s deed with the slave boy had reached
this spot as well.
“I never need to lie to you,” Auron said, sitting upright and pulling his
ankles in to sit with crossed legs. “Anything I could be hiding from you is to
protect you anyway…”
Hadrian’s eyes narrowed to slits and he turned his head to Auron, marinating in
that statement and how very much it sounded like a confession lacking
information. What kind of secrets are flowing through your head, brother? “Is
that supposed to comfort me? Or if not...make you look better? It does
neither,” he said, catching a slyness to Auron’s eye roll that made his toes
curl. You really are hiding something colossal, aren’t you?
“I heard about your wedding—there,” Auron said, clapping his hands together
just once after stretching his arms out as he spoke. “That’s why I’m here.”
“Oh that,” Hadrian said, casting a gloomy cloud over his body now that he’d
remembered that still a thing. It was easy to forget, but every time it came
back, it brought a cart full of disappointment with it.
“Yes, that. Sabina,” Auron said, not sure if the pretty face in his mind was
Sabina or not; all Roman maidens looked the same to him. He did know the name,
though, and now his brother would be forced to know the girl as a lover.
Sometimes Auron was happy again that he’d had the status of Emperor ripped out
from under him. This was an example of pure elation.
“You look entirely too happy over there,” Hadrian said, noting his brother’s
inappropriate grin and looking around him for something heavy to throw.
“I just really...really don’t envy you. Or poor Antin—”
“Keep that name,” Hadrian spat as he rose from his seat, accidentally
initiating a challenge because Auron stood up in the same tensed manner. “Out
of your mouth.”
“What is it with you and him? Why do you always protect him like he’s a baby
bird before flight? What about me? My feelings? Do they matter? Huh?” Auron
ranted, stepping closer with each noisy jab until the twins were chest to chest
and practically snarling into each other’s faces.
“You’re never even here, how do your feelings even remotely take priority?”
Hadrian growled, basking in the dead silence his words had thrown his brother
into. Nothing had ever felt better.
His basking was cut short, however, when Auron chose to let his body do the
talking, throwing an open palm out quick as lightning toward Hadrian’s face.
Hadrian’s reflexes had always outdone his older brother’s, though, and he
caught Auron’s wrist in a tight grip, hoping he appeared intimidating because
he hadn’t even looked away from his brother’s eyes while doing so.  
“Let me hit you,” Auron snarled, even baring his teeth in rage as he fought to
get his hand back from Hadrian’s grasp.
Hadrian nearly laughed out loud but shoved the impulse down before he made his
brother explode, tossing the wrist he’d held aside and walking off with a sigh
toward the lookout at the foot of his bed, where he did most of his beloved
people-watching. “Auron, do you remember when we were kids? When we played by
that creek and then tracked mud throughout our entire domus?” he asked fondly,
fixing his eyes on a person walking the streets below so he didn’t have to face
his brother as he opened this floodgate of memory.
“What of it?” Auron snapped, though his voice showed a decrease in edge.
“I went back there a week ago or so, and I found small children there in our
place. Presumably brothers as well if going by their physical similarities. Do
you know how hard that struck me? It made me want the past in my hands—made me
wish I could manipulate time as Saturn does. I missed you so much in that
moment I could have thrown up,” he admitted, lightly kicking the tips of his
toes behind him against the stone floor. “But it’s cold water to the face every
time I see you. When you’re here, in arm’s reach, with that troublesome chill
in your heart, I’m glad time continues to pass as usual. I’m glad it takes me
further away from you. Time heals me of you. I long now only for peace and
quiet. I just wish you’d leave me alone.”
Auron vented silently to himself, something Hadrian could tell even without
looking, and it took awhile for his response but when it came, Hadrian wished
it hadn’t.
“You’d better be damn sure about what you just said, because I will make you
regret it,” he seethed, putting a small smile of disappointment on Hadrian’s
face that he couldn’t see.
Hadrian turned when he gathered his emotions and met those blazing green eyes a
hint of a shade darker than his, outstretching his arms in a manner that
suggested initiating a challenge. “Dear brother, you make me regret everything
already. Go ahead. Do your fucking worst—I expect nothing less. You live to
despise me. Who am I to rob you of that hobby? Have at it,” he said, giving his
words a curtsy for added effect.
Auron gnawed on a corner of his lower lip for a few seconds and then gave a
great huff, slapping his cloak back as he strutted from the room, stopping just
before he would cross the doorway. “You invite ruin upon yourself so willingly,
but I can promise you’ll wish you hadn’t. We’re through, Hadrian. Maybe we were
a long time ago, but you were never my enemy...congratulations. See what
happens.”
And with that he was gone. Hadrian waited until his footsteps grew faint and
then nonexistent to breathe, holding his head in his hands and stalking to his
door to kick it closed in one go. “Gods in the sky,” he muttered, massaging his
now aching head and nearly screaming out loud when a knock came upon his
freshly-slammed door. “In the sky!” he repeated in anger, sweeping across the
room and wrenching it open to one of his servants.
“Hadrian,” the boy greeted with a deep bow, straightening up and gazing
pointedly at somewhere just below Hadrian’s chin because all slaves were scared
of eye contact. “Someone’s here to see you.”
“Just send him over—why would he even ask?” Hadrian muttered more to himself,
at a loss on why Antinous would bother using a servant to announce his
presence.
“Hadrian it’s...it’s not Antinous,” the boy admitted nervously, rightfully so
because Hadrian’s frustration then reached a new peak. Who the fuck else would
he ever want in his room?
“Then who?” he prompted, hanging on the answer to know whether or not he could
slam his door again.
“Miss Sabina—”
“Oh for the love of—” Hadrian spewed hotly, spinning in a quick circle with his
body bent backward and then falling against the door jamb in defeat. “Fine,” he
grunted, shooing his boy off to collect his to-be-bride (fuck) and bring her to
his chambers. His chambers. Where no one but Antinous should ever ever be.
Besides, who had okayed this? Was she even allowed to be here?
He guessed it didn’t matter now.
He’d stayed at the door that whole time so he opened it just as they’d
returned, putting on a decent smile and making fearless eye contact with the
girl he’d only met twice before. Still with the same brown curly hair, the same
brown eyes, the same high eyebrows...the same monotony.
“I offer my greetings to you,” Sabina said shyly, bowing shortly and raising
back up to take Hadrian in, if going by the sweep of her gaze. It had no
hunger, only curiosity, but it was still annoying.
“Come in,” he said simply, opening the door wider and shooing his servant off
once more behind her head when she passed through. He calmly shut his door this
time and turned to offer her a seat on the couch, standing against the nearest
pillar to it and crossing his arms over his chest. “Is this allowed?” he asked
her, smirking at her chuckle that told him no, it was indeed, not supposed to
be happening.
“Are you going to tell my father?” she asked, playing with some strands of her
hair until she seemed to realize she was doing so, then setting both palms down
on her knees.
“You gonna tell mine?” he asked back, nodding when she slowly shook her head no
with a bright smile. “So what are you doing here?” he asked, retracing his
steps when she audibly gulped. “Not to be unaccommodating but…”
“No, no, it’s okay,” she rushed, heaving a small sigh and setting her face into
determination. “I wanted us to get to know each other more. This marriage has
been weighing on my mind, and I just...I think we should be get closer before
then. That way it may not be so awkward,” she explained, shrugging her
shoulders like it would be okay if her idea was shot down.
“Sabina…” Hadrian began, not quite sure how to explain his point of view on
things because he certainly couldn’t out himself, but how else could he warn
her she’d be entering a loveless marriage? That’s a tough blow to wreak.
“I know about you, you know,” she said meekly, as a mouse would caught in a
trap.
Hadrian’s head snapped up and his brows were lost in his hairline, staring her
down in shock because no way that’s what she meant. “Come again?”
“I—I know you are fond of men,” she said with a grimace of fear, looking into
Hadrian’s eyes only to immediately seek out the floor again.
“How in the…”
“Last time we met—I noticed uh, Antinous, is it? He had the sourest of looks on
his face at the table. And when you two left, he hooked his arm around yours
and turned to glare at me like I’ve never been glared at before. I may not know
much about love, but I think anyone could piece that together,” she said all at
once, preparing herself for any repercussions that could come from that
accusation.
Hadrian was utterly silenced in shock, taking a few more moments to let it sink
in and then rolling his eyes while he breathed an elongated k sound from the
back of his mouth. “Of course,” he chuckled, angry but also fond at Antinous’s
behavior for so many reasons at once. “So I’ve been found out,” he said,
shaking his head and pinching the bridge of his nose. “What of it?”
“It’s okay with me,” Sabina said, striking another silence in the air because
it was the last answer Hadrian could have ever expected.
Hadrian kicked off the pillar and walked over to Sabina’s spot on the couch,
crouching down before her and placing his hands on her knees. “Sabina,” he
began bluntly, the tone in itself suggesting he was about to set her straight.
“You’re about to enter a marriage with a homosexual man. I don’t care how nice
you may be, that can’t sit well with you.”
“It does!” she insisted, sitting up with better posture and nodding her head
with confidence. “Really. I just want us to be close. I don’t want you to hate
me, or find me a burden to carry. I want to become important to you just as a
friend,” she said, finally losing her courage and staring off into anywhere
that wasn’t Hadrian’s close-proximity-face. “This marriage was sprung upon me
just as harshly and unexpectedly as it was on you, I don’t want you to think
I’m some wench only interested in the glory. We’re both powerless, so we should
make the best of it for both our sakes, and I don’t know, maybe one day
you’ll…” she drifted, pursing her lips together and looking like she was busy
throwing herself mental curses.
“What, become a heterosexual?” Hadrian snorted, sitting back on his feet and
crossing his arms over his skyward knees.
“No no,” Sabina said far too quickly, giving up the resistance and grabbing a
lock of hair to hang onto for dear life. “I just mean...I don’t know, maybe you
could grow to love me in some weird way—that would be all I would ever ask.”
Hadrian swallowed his laughter deep in his gut—it’s not that he thought her
sentiment unreasonably ridiculous, but she should have seen how she looked in
that moment. He stood from his squat and backed up a few paces to return to the
pillar from which he’d left, figuring a sudden loss of proximity would cut her
nerves in half. It did.
“I hope you don’t think I’m—”
“Sabina,” he cut off, shaking his head and softly sighing to the ceiling. How
could he just break a girl’s heart who’d broken so many rules to get here in
the first place? How could he tell her it was hopeless? He didn’t want to make
her cry, not this soon. And maybe she had a point—maybe he could see her as a
sister. Wait, nevermind. That’s a terrible idea.
“I think I’ll take my leave now, I said some weird things and I should just,”
she paused, standing and looking all around the area in which she’d sat like
she’d brought sacks of belongings with her when they both knew she hadn’t.
“Yeah, everything’s in order, excuse me I’ll just—”
Hadrian rolled his eyes fondly as she tried to squeeze past him between the end
of the couch, reaching out just as she’d fully pass and clasping his hand
around her arm right above the elbow. She jolted for the short second she got
before he wrenched her back toward him, catching the back of her head and
pulling it into his chest for a sort-of-hug neither had been expecting.
He kept his hand on her hair and waited for her to relax, then began to speak,
“Sabina, I want you to know that I really am sorry,” he said quietly, speaking
so only she could hear even if others were in the room. “You deserve a lot
better than me. You’re a pretty girl, and you seem like a nice one too...I’m
truly sorry that you’ll have to deal with me,” he sighed, his heart already
breaking over the whole concept because why did he have to be this girl’s
destination in life? It just wasn’t fair for any party.
“I don’t know,” she said with a bit more confidence than she’d had up to this
point, actually raising her arms to daintily wrap them around his torso. “If
this is dealing with you, I don’t think I’ll mind.”
Hadrian barked a laugh and knocked his head back on the pillar, ruffling her
fluffy brown hair much like his own and resting his whole palm fingers splayed
on the tip top of her head. “Trustme you’ll mind,” he assured monotonously with
a characteristic half-smile, cracking on eye open and glancing down at her
reddened cheeks.
That was the point he let go entirely and stood up straighter to conclude the
uncalled-for embrace. He probably shouldn’t have touched her at all, but it was
too late to change that now.
She got the picture and backed away, looking unsure as to what the next step
was in this odd meeting process and shifting her weight back and forth between
her legs.
Hadrian huffed a smile and wandered to his door, swinging it open and leaning
against the edge once it was fully perpendicular to the wall. By the time he
looked back to nudge his chin toward the hall, she was already standing right
before him, smiling in a way that had Hadrian’s stomach clenching with nerves,
and not the good kind. What have I done?
“It was good to see you, Hadrian. I think we can make this work,” she said,
giving him one more curtsy and practically floating through the doorway into
the hall she’d have to sneak down to escape the palace. Speaking of…
“How did you even get here?” he asked, poking his head out of his room to make
sure no roaming guards were here at an inconvenient time.
“Your servant seemed like he would have amputated a limb if I asked him to,”
she replied, no doubt subtly mentioning she was a common catch for a reason.
“Go find him again to get out—he’ll be that way,” Hadrian said, sweeping his
arm down and then pointing left down the eastern hall. “Be careful.”
“I will,” she said with a nod, backing up a few paces and quickly recovering
when she almost tripped on her aqua green tunic.
Harry took matters into his own hands then and shut the door to break their eye
contact, turning around and leaning against it immediately, listening to her
footsteps fade beyond the end of the hall. “Hadrian...she has to hate you,
remember? That’s the only way this works,” he muttered, shivering at the mere
thought of Antinous’s face when and if he found out she’d been in his room and
they’d been friendly together. “This is not what I’d planned…”
Then again, what ever is?

---

“You’re fuckingsure?” Hadrian said for the hundredth time, locking suspicious
eyes with Antinous at their special tree, one day now before his wedding with
Sabina.
“Yes, for all the might of the Gods, how many times must I say it?” Antinous
laughed; a laugh which was much too bubbly on an eve such as this. An eve with
a following morn that would prove to jumble Antinous’s life into an
unrecognizable mess. “This is what must—”
“Antinous. We both know it’s a ‘must’ situation. But I can’t believe—you know,
no, I’m nearly offended that you seem so fine with this,” Hadrian muttered,
kicking at some flowers to rid of the world of as much beauty as he presently
could.
“Offended,” Antinous scoffed, reaching out for Hadrian’s hand and shaking it
impatiently when Hadrian only stared at the offer.
“Oh alright,” Hadrian sighed, walking to the tree and going a step beyond by
wrapping Antinous up in his arms. “Please tell me you’re really okay. You mean
the world to me, my love, I can’t...I just need you to let me be selfish and
ask you help me get through this. We’ll help each other get through this. It’ll
never be the end, Antinous, I’m never going to leave you. I can’t live without
you, so, there’s your proof.”
“My Hadrianus,” Antinous sighed, inhaling Hadrian’s scent with a mighty breath
like he’d spent over a minute submerged in water. “I’m not worried about losing
your heart.”
There’s a ‘but’ there. “Then what are you most worried about?” Hadrian
prompted, attempting to back off to get a view of Antinous’s face but his arms
grew immensely stronger when he made to do so.
“That I’ll lose your time,” Antinous confessed, and not without logic. Now that
Hadrian would be married, sneaking in late-night bed activities would prove
difficult, and not to mention the tours around the Empire the newly wedded
couple would need to go on. When would there be time for Antinous in all that?
He’d have to make time, but could he? He understood Antinous’s point completely
because it was his own. “I know,” he admitted, hating the fact that Antinous
held him tighter at his words—it meant he was crying and didn’t want Hadrian to
see it. “We knew this wouldn’t be easy.”
“Oh I know,” Antinous said, his voice shaky but still strong. “Being with you
isn’t easy for anyone. Not me, not your wife...no one has an easy time around
you, Hadrian. Auron didn’t either.”
Hadrian’s eyebrows cinched in annoyance at that last comment and he sent an
unseen glare down at Antinous’s head, quickly letting it go and looking back
out to the sunny meadow they’d come to know as their outdoor home. He sighed a
lament and laid his cheek down at an angle against Antinous’s temple so he
could feel skin, slowly twisting them like a cork in a bottle while they
crushed the flowers beneath their feet.
“We’re going to make this work,” Hadrian said again, probably breaking a record
for the amount of times any one person has ever said any one thing in their
entire lives. It was all he had to promise. That and love—but what practicality
does that have?
“You should get going. There are preparations you’re already late for I’m
sure,” Antinous said, finally releasing his hold on Hadrian and stepping back
to get a good view of his face.
The look in Antinous’s eyes was skewering Hadrian right down the middle; he
knew it well. It was so laughably contrived of false acceptance and false
security that he could have broken down at cried right there at the sight of
it. Nevertheless, he pulled through, holding below Antinous’s chin and pressing
their lips together for a laughably long amount of time because who knows when
the next one would be? They would be watched now. By Rome.
When the tears welled in Hadrian’s closed eyes, he ended the kiss abruptly,
giving his lover one more for the road and turning away without another word.
He couldn’t. And Antinous knew he couldn’t. And they both knew the other just
couldn’t do it. So he had to leave.
And he could talk all about that wedding that happened that next day. Hecould.
He could go into a sinkhole of details about his one and only wedding. How
manic and blubbery his family had been, how beautiful and jolly Sabina had
been, how delicious the food had been, and the entertainment of the jesters and
concubines, the music, laughter, and drink.
Had it been a day devoted to and for literally anyone but him, they would have
been the happiest man alive. But he wasn’t. He couldn’t bring himself to talk
about the hordes of treasures, all those boxes with the finest of silks, the
dried plant he’d smoked with his fellow soldiers until they were giggling like
fools, and he really didn’t want to talk about sharing a bed with Sabina that
night in his reluctant arms, even if nothing occurred beyond that with them.
He didn’t want to talk about anything. Because he hadn’t seen or heard from
Antinous once that day. Regardless of all they’d said and promised one another.
He’d needed him more than anyone but he hadn’t seen him once. Not one fucking
time.
Chapter End Notes
     Bruh if I was Antinous, I woulda avoided that shit too. Idk maybe I
     would've gone, but it would have been hard to keep my emotions under
     check. He probably did it for Hadrian's benefit. I can see both
     sides. Auron's getting more and more nefarious isn't he? What is he
     doing in the background at this point in time? Anyone remember?
     Alright. Until next time.
End Notes
     A quick guide for vocab you'll see for a while, and YES, not a lot of
     DOORS were in Rome, I get that. It was all curtains and shit, BUT the
     crazy elite were known to have doors. This fam is pretty damn elite
     lol.
     main points of house- consists of indoor courtyards, gardens,
     elaborately painted walls.
     cubicula - bedroom, leading off atrium. wooden beds with slight
     padding
     atrium - main room, focal point, contains statue of altar to
     household gods, Lares. surrounded by high-ceilinged porticoes.
     impluvium - draining pool (shallow, sunken rectangular portion of
     atrium) to feed rainwater underground
     vestibulum - entrance hall, leads into large central hall
     triclinium - like a dining den with couches and reclining blah (three
     couches surrounding a table)
     tablinum - living room or study (used as a passageway)
     culina - kitchen
     domus - fancy house
     insula - poorer house
     imperial palace - palatine hill
     tabernae - shops outside facing the street
     Contact me: wubwubnparmaham.tumblr.com
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