Work Text:
180 CE, Rome
‘We launch our attack against the Quabi tribe at night, when they will be most vulnerable,’ he had said. ‘We will take them out before they grow. Nothing will stand in our way. Roma Invicta!’ He remembered the sound of all the roman soldiers shouting the phrase. Roma Invicta! Unconquered Rome. As Commodus stared at the wall of the tent and thought about the days of fighting, he was vaguely aware of someone speaking to him. Then a grape hit him on the nose. He snapped out of it and turned to his guest.
“You are terrible ” I teased him. Apollo only grinned and threw another, still trying to land one in my mouth. I caught it out of the air. We sat together in the campaign tent at the Roman military camp my father has us working at. I gazed at him for a second. He was as handsome as the sun itself. His muscular arms sticking out of his toga, his messy golden hair, his bright blue eyes, the splash of golden freckles across the bridge of his nose, I noticed all of it. I couldn’t help but admire him on more than one level. . .
He saw me staring and, embarrassed, I pretended to study the grape in my hand. “Oh Apollo…”. Yes, I knew his real identity. The gods very rarely showed their true identity to mortals, but I liked to think I was special enough to catch their attention. After all, I was next in line to be Emperor of Rome. Not that the job was very fun at the moment.
“I get so weary of these campaigns. My father has been at war virtually his entire reign!”
“Such a hard life for you.” He teased, gesturing around to the lush tent. The silk canopy rippled from the wind, as if on cue. I wondered if it was really a coincidence. In one corner, a musician sat serenading us with his lyre, which I had arranged knowing Apollo would be present. Beneath our feet spread the finest rugs in all of Rome, and between each of our couches sat a table spread with every food you could imagine spilling out of a solid gold cornucopia, from roast boar, to salmon, to fresh fruit, and even a goblet of nectar for the god. How I wished I could taste it. Someday I will said a voice in my conscience. I ignored it.
“Yes but it’s ridiculous. Tromping around Danubian forests, stamping out barbarian tribes that are really no threat to Rome. What’s the point of being emperor if you’re never in the capital having fun?” I wondered aloud.
“Why not talk to your father? Ask for a furlough?” Apollo asked as he ate a piece of boar meat.
I snorted. “You know what he’ll do-- give me another lecture on duty and morality. He is so virtuous, so perfect, so esteemed” I said, putting the words in air circles (since air quotes had not yet been invented). I hated how father ran things. He would never listen to me anyways, being the sternest, most powerful father in the world, aside from Zeus. I could see the look of sympathy on Apollo’s face. I knew from his rants that he had similar daddy issues. Both our fathers loved to lecture, remind their offspring how privileged they were, and especially how far short they fell of their father’s expectations. I squished the grape and watched the juice trickle down my fingers, into the palm of my hand.
“My father made me his junior co-emperor when I was fifteen , Apollo. It’s stifling. All duty, all the time. Then he married me off to that horrid girl Bruttia Crispina. Who names their child Bruttia ?”
Apollo laughed out loud. “Well, someday you’ll be the sole emperor. Then you can make the rules.”
I didn’t even have to think about it. I’d planed it all out already. “I’ll make peace with the barbarians! Then we’ll go home and celebrate with games. The best games, all the time!” I knew I sounded like a child, but I didn’t care. Maybe children had the right idea. “I’ll gather the most exotic animals in the world. I’ll fight them personally in the Colosseum- tigers, elephants, ostriches.”
“Ostriches? Have you ever even seen an ostrich?” Apollo laughed.
“Oh yes.” I lit up at the thought. “Amazing creatures. If you trained them to fight, perhaps designed some sort of armor for them, they would be incredible !”
“You’re a handsome idiot.” He threw another grape, which bounced off my forehead. I got angry for a second. He dared- No. He’s a god. I reminded myself of my place.
Just then the tent flap opened. A centurion I didn’t recognize stepped inside and saluted crisply, but his face was worried and surprised, gleaming with sweat. He looked like he had run a mile to get here.
“Princeps. . .” His voice quivered. “It’s your father. He. . . he is. . .”
He never said the word, but it seemed to seep into the air around us, quickly filling me with dread. Dead . The lyre player stopped abruptly. I looked to Apollo for encouragement, panic devouring my insides.
“Go,” he said calmly, though I could tell it was forced. “You will always have my blessings. You will do fine.” I heard the uncertainty, in his voice, but the hint of support gave me hope. I shakily stood and kissed him one last time. Then I left the tent, feeling his pitiful knowing gaze on my back.
December 31, 192 AD, Rome
“COMMODUS! COMMODUS! COMMODUS!” Chanted the bloodthirsty crowd, the stench of the carcasses littering the floor of the Colosseum filling the air.
“ROMA INVICTA!” I shouted, standing before the crowd in all my glory, my golden armor gleaming and my purple robes billowing in the cold winter wind.
“COMMODUS! COMMODUS! COMMODUS!” The crowd continued to scream. I picked up the severed head of an ostrich and tossed it into the lap of a terrified looking senator. I grinned at his forced smile, and pointed to the old men with the tip of my spear, mouthing the words you’re next . The crowd chanted even louder.
I did a victory lap around the arena, slicing through the bodies of my oppenents, human and animal alike to make a path. I grinned evilly at the senators one more time, then I help up my arms, cueing deafening roaring from the crowd, and swept out of the arena.
~~~
Soon after I stormed through the halls of my palace on Palatine Hill, a bitter cold wind sweeping the air, threatening to put out the fires of the palace. I shouted at a shivering guard not to let anyone in, and burst into my private chambers, slamming the doors behind me. The silk curtains rippled in the wind, the pristine golden furniture shimmering in the winter sun. I changed into a plain white tunic and stomped around, kicking my things around the room and grumbling to myself angrily. Then my stomach heaved. I knew what would happen. I ran to the other side of the room, and hurled into a pot Marcia had left.
I stumbled over to the mirror. My eyes were deranged, my beard glistened with saliva. My tunic was stained with vomit and blood. My hair looked like it hadn’t been combed for a month.
I let loose a gutteral cry and shattered the mirror against the floor. Stifling a sob, I stumbled over to my sofa.
“I WILL KILL THEM! I JUST KNOW THIS IS THEIR FAULT,” I shouted. But you have no proof , said something in the back of my mind. “I DON’T CARE! I AM PRACTICALLY A GOD, JUST LOOK AT ME. I CAN DO AS I PLEASE!” Then, realizing I did not look like my normal godly self, I kicked the side of the sofa, injuring my toe in the process. Marcia, my mistress and Laetus, the praetorian prefect. I knew it was them who poisoned my wine at lunch, I just knew it. They would pay. I would make sure of it.
Just then, someone pushed open the doors to my chambers.
“GO AWAY!” I bellowed, and chucked a bronze pitcher in the direction of the door, hoping to kill whoever dared intrude upon me. It hit the wall with such force it cracked the mosaic tiles.
“Hello to you, too,” said the intruder. “I never did like that fresco”
I blinked, clearing away the tears, trying to see who had dared to enter at such a time. “Ah. . . it’s you, Narcissus. Come in, then. Hurry! Bar the doors!”
I knelt on the floor, clinging to the side of the sofa, trying to stand up.
“They tried to kill me,” I snarled. “I know it was them! I won’t die. I’ll show them all!” A worried look flitted across Narcissus’s face, but it happened so fast I assumed that in my deranged state I had imagined it.
I perked up at the thought of Marcia and Laetus already being at the top of the list of people to execute tomorrow. They would all die. Servants, senators, priests, didn’t matter. Anyone who had ever displeased me would pay for it tomorrow, in front of all of Rome. But I trusted Narcissus. He was my personal trainer, and we’d spent so much time together that he knew me better than anyone in Rome. He wouldn’t dare betray me.
“Hey, how about we practice some fighting techniques to take your mind off of today’s events?” Narcissus asked assertively.
“Yeah. . . yeah that could help.”
We practiced fighting techniques all afternoon. I fought my hardest. I wrestled him to the ground so many times I was impressed he hadn’t broken any bones. I was temped to try, but I figured I’d get to do that all I wanted tomorrow. Better to spare Narcissus. He was the toughest opponent I could find, best for practicing with. Couldn’t help me if he had a broken neck or arm. As much as I wanted to remain angry, I couldn’t help but have some fun, defeating him each time we wrestled.
When we were done, I was sitting on the floor, quaking from exhaustion, appreciating the cold wind blowing in through the window.
Narcissus approached cautiously, as if I could kill him at any time. Which, to be fair, I could.
“You won’t die from the poison. You’re much too strong for that.” He encouraged.
“Exactly!” I pulled myself onto the couch, legs shaking and hands clenched so tightly I wasn’t sure I’d every be able to relax them again. “I’ll feel better tomorrow, as soon as I behead those traitors!”
“Perhaps it would be better to rest for a few days,” Narcissus suggested. “Take some time to recuperate and reflect?”
“REFLECT?” I winced from the pain. “I don’t need to reflect , Narcissus. I will kill them and hire new advisors. You, perhaps? You want the job?” I knew I sounded crazy, but I didn’t care. Lets just say my servants and advisors always seem to have very short life spans. But Narcissus I knew would stick around a while. He always knew what to say and do.
“I’m just a personal trainer,” he said.
“Who cares? I will make you a nobleman! You will rule Commodiana!” I grinned. Commodiana was the name I chose for the rechristening of Rome. I knew the citizens were unhappy and refused to call themselves Commodians, but that would all change very soon. Very, very soon.
“Please, Caesar,” Narcissus implored. “A rest from the executions and the games. Time to heal. Time to consider the consequences!”
I bared my teeth, tasting the blood on my lips, and growled: “Don’t you start too! You sound like my father. I’m done thinking about consequences!”
He inclined his head in submission. “Of course, Caesar. May I draw you a bath?”
“I should get out of these filthy clothes” I grunted, pleased at his loyalty. Narcissus filled my great marble bath with steaming rose-scented water, as he often did after our sessions. He helped me out of my tunic and I got into the water. I relaxed and closed my eyes, finally calming down after a long day. I could feel Narcissus gently cleaning off my beard and face.
Then I felt his hands close around my neck.
“I’m sorry.” Those were the last words I heard him speak, before he pushed me underwater and began to squeeze.
I was infuriated. The man I trusted more than any other on the planet dared to try and kill me, the great Emperor Commodus? I thrashed and fought with all my strength, trying desperately not to breath in the water. Yet he still held on. I didn’t get it. It should have been impossible for him to keep me under. Just then, he started to glow, and my most trusted accomplice turned assasinator revealed his true nature. Apollo .
I went still, paralized with shock. My eyes widened with surprise, anger, and betrayal. I thought about all the moments we had shared together all those years ago. A tear came to my eye as I remembered those moments when I had kissed him, or he had listened to me with more genuine attention than anyone else had every given me my entire life. I remembered that last time I saw him, when he kept missing my mouth with the grapes, and I had told him all about my plans. Those were foolish plans. I was foolish. But he had given me his support. I couldn’t speak, but I mouthed the words: You. Blessed. Me.
You will always have my blessings he had said. Now he was ending my reign. I wanted him dead. I swore right then and there that if I ever got a chance for vengence in the afterlife, I would take it. He would pay.
My vision swarmed, and I had no choice. I opened my mouth, my last breath bubbling up through the water, my body going limp as my spirit departed for Hades.
I will end him. I will see him and all his loved ones gone if it is the last thing I do.
I swear it on the River Styx