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"The Gauls took out our troops, again, O Caesar..."
One hit against the marble table, and every replica Gaulish hut sprung from the map and landed on the floor with a clatter. Caesar took a deep breath, retracting his curled fist and closing his eyes, refusing to acknowledge his anger or pain.
"How many times..." When his eyes opened again, they were filled with nothing but malice, his frown twitching into a sneer. "How many times will that damned Gaul hail victorious over me?" He reached down and picked up a miniature Roman soldier figurine from the table, throwing it to the ground, it's spear snapping at the impact.
One of the sheepish senators raised a finger. "You mean the fat one?..." His head was already lowered, and he narrowly avoided another miniature that Caesar threw in his direction.
"No, you idiot! The little one, Asterix..." Caesar glared with dismay at the map, brows furrowed. "He destroys my plans, my strategies, as if they were the creations of a toddler!" His voice crescendoed and echoed through the enormous hall, the senators nervously glancing at each other. "I have conquered lands, snuffed out entire armies, yet that one Gaul is always outsmarting my idiotic Centurions..." He turned his back to the table, hands interlocked behind his back and gaze to his throne. "I could easily take that village, the Gaulish chief is a bumbling idiot, and so are the rest of them. But Asterix foils it all." He suddenly turned back around, cape dramatically swinging to the side.
"If I had him, I would parade him through the streets of Rome, I would keep him as slave in my very palace, just to humiliate him!"
"Uh..." A senator spoke up again. "Why not just... throw him to the lions?"
Caesar seemed to have all the lightning fire of Jupiter in his eyes as he glared down the senator that had dared to speak up, and the senator shrank, head snugly between his shoulders.
"Kill him? Kill him as if he were nothing but a meaningless petty thief after all the embarrassment he has caused me?! He will live out the rest of his life under my rule, under my service, so his proud Gaul spirit would break under the strength of the empire, under the strength of Caesar!" Caesar himself realized he had spoken too loudly, and his fist had been raised, and awkwardly relaxed his posture.
"...I will come out victorious, and by Jupiter, Asterix will be mine!"
“Aren’t just a bit too focused on him?”
”More idiotic statements like that, and I won’t hesitate to make you the next show of entertainment in the colosseum.” Was Caesar’s final words on the matter.
That was enough to make the senators look at each other questioningly.
XXXXXX
"Hey, Asterix..." Obelix wiped his mouth with his arm, timidly shuffling his boar towards Asterix, who was staring at his wine goblet grimly. "You aren't looking so good there." Obelix raised his brows as Asterix pushed the boar back towards him.
"I'm not hungry, Obelix." Even the wings on Asterix' helmet seemed to droop. He could usually eat one boar for himself on a good night, but no boar at all was significant enough to be alarming. Obelix leaned a bit closer.
"Come on, what's the matter?" He gave Asterix's shoulder a little puff, enough for the smaller man to grab the spot and hiss in pain.
"It's nothing, nothing's wrong." Asterix murmured, taking a swig of his wine and redirecting his gaze to the fireplace. Obelix didn't buy into his answer. "Is it those crazy Romans again? Come on, don't keep dwelling on Julie!" Obelix took a bite of his boar, swallowing before he returned to the topic at hand.
"Didn't you have fun last fight?" Obelix pried again, and this time Asterix sighed as a reply. "Yes, I did, but that's not the problem." He leaned his head against the palm of his hand, tapping the table. "It's Caesar himself." He glanced at Obelix, who did not seem to understand what he meant. "Caesar?"
"I feel like he's planning something big..." Asterix mused, drawing a hand through his mustache. "Last attack was just patrol troops. It's been too long since his last scheme..."
Obelix pondered for a moment, then scrunched his brows together. “Has it been?”
“Yes, many months, and that’s suspicious.” The small warrior looked at his large (not fat) companion, and raised a finger. “If Julius is away too long, it doesn’t bode well.”
“You’ve been kind of nervous whenever he’s absent. You miss him?” Obelix mostly assumed Asterix was itching for a big fight, despite the fact his friend was nervous for a completely different reason.
”What?! Of course not! All he does is try to conquer our village, and make us Romans. If anything, I wish he’d leave us alone for good.” Asterix crossed his arms and looked away, frowning. Obelix was just more confused than before at this.
”Then why aren’t you happy he hasn’t been around lately?” Obelix asked, and Asterix grew beet red in the face.
”Because.. because I know he’s coming back! I can’t rest until I have confirmation that he’s given up.” He tightened his grip on his own arms, refusing to meet Obelix’s eyes. “And I’m sure that won’t happen anytime soon.” He added.
“You’re a crazy Gaul.” Obelix said, tapping his helmet. Asterix harumphed with displeasure and shrank into a small ball of embarrassment.
XXXXXX
The field outside the Gaulish village was covered in unconscious piles of Roman soldiers, clad in what could previously have been identified as armor, but was now bent and dented beyond recognition. Clouds of dust were still beginning to drift to the ground, and fogged the horizon beyond. The last soldiers that were still conscious were cowering and panting behind the raised chair whereupon their emperor sat, tapping the armrest with distaste.
The Gauls stood victorious before him, no sign of exhaustion on their hardened faces, and Vitalstatistix stood proudly on his man carried shield, sword put back into its sheath just then. His mustache quirked into a proud smirk, and his chest was puffed out like a rooster that had just won a chicken coop fight.
“Well, Julius. It seems you were defeated, again again.” He had the respect to not laugh heartily, but he still scoffed. “I believe that we-" Before he could finish his sentence, Asterix, seemingly still fueled by his dose of magic potion, marched towards Caesar, stopping in the middle of the gap between him and the Gauls.
“Ave Caesar.” He said, loud enough for all to hear, arms crossed and the wings on his helmet perked, despite his no-nonsense expression.
“Ave Gaul.” Caesar responded, nose turned to the sky, as if he had no care at all for the fighter at his feet.
“You know my name, Julius.” Asterix huffed, looking at the proud man with all the hatred he could muster. Without a doubt, Caesar was not as idiotic, nor as incapable as his army. He was strong, intelligent, and, even though Asterix always tried to deny it, he did have an emperors appearance. His setback was his anger; and maybe that was Asterix’s, too.
“...Asterix.” Caesar admitted, and he stepped off of his makeshift throne, approaching the Gaul, but stopping a few steps away. “I admit my defeat.” He said, still holding dignity in his tone. He always did.
“Well that’s obvious.” Asterix tutted, gesticulating towards the completely devastated army. “But I believe, Julius.” The Gaul took a step forward, and his hand grasped the hilt of his dagger, and he drew it from his belt. A collective gasp sounded from both the Romans and Gauls. “It’s time we set an end to this.” He nodded towards Caesar’s own sword, safely tucked away in its decorated sheath. The emperor did not look surprised, but only frowned.
”You wish to settle our dispute with a duel?” Caesar’s hand took ahold of his sword, but he made no move to draw it. “I have no wish for such a barbaric deed. Our fight for today is over, Asterix.” An act like that seemed uncharacteristically pacifistic for the warrior emperor, who had mercilessly slaughtered his enemies before. Asterix sheepishly let his arm holding the dagger fall to his side.
”You think a duel is barbaric? After all the attempts you have made to conquer and convert our village to your Roman empire? That’s awfully fishy.” Asterix put one hand on his hip, glaring at the emperor.
“I lost this fight. Not until another day will I attempt again.” Caesar barely glanced down at Asterix. “I am an honest soldier, unlike you Gauls.”
“Because you use manipulation and extortion to force us to become part of your territory? Yes, honest indeed.” Asterix shook his head. Both the Gauls and Romans stood still, staring at their respective men in confusion. Both seemed to be acting strangely, and Asterix never seemed to have the intention to kill Caesar before now.
“I refuse to budge from this battlefield until I have closure.” Asterix added to his statement, crossing his arms. “Either you admit you will never return to this village, or we’ll fight.” His mustache bristled, dark brows pulled down into a stubborn face.
“You will not recieve either, Gaul.” Caesar looked at the warrior, this time establishing proper eye contact. The tension tore at his pride, but he stood unaffected still.
“Another day. You will have closure, Asterix.” Caesar returned to his chair, leaving Asterix on the field, seperated from both sides. "Julius?..." The Gaul was quieter now, standing rejected on the dirt. Both wanted closure more than anything to their strife, but somehow, both knew that a battle was not the resolve to it. Even Asterix, now that Caesar had refused his challenge.
The romans retreated, and Asterix defeatedly returned to the village.
Another day, Caesar had promised. What Asterix wondered was, how many days until that day?