Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

When my mother was taken from her homeland in the north, she was still a young woman, and, although she didn't know it at the time, pregnant with me. My father died in the battle that resulted in her getting captured, so I never knew him.

My mother, stricken with grief and the thought of a child on the way was brought to the city of Lugdunum, which is where I would be born and raised. A rich old man bought her off the big ship she came on and took her back to his grand villa. She had never seen a house so magnificent as his; every wall intricately adorned with colourful frescoes and the floor of each room set in ornate tiling. Unfortunately, the man who owned it was not quite as pleasant as his house. In fact, he was a cruel and selfish person who cared little, if at all, for the slaves in his possession.

As the years passed and I grew up, I began to see what a horrible man he was. I have no doubt that he took advantage of my poor mother more times than once, and I think that was probably part of the reason why she started to get ill.

She got sicker and sicker as the weeks passed, her already thin body growing gaunt and emaciated. I could do nothing as it got harder each morning for her to get up but watch her slowly fade away, as she had been ever since the death of my father. One day, she simply did not wake up. I was left young and alone, under the harsh ownership of a cruel and unforgiving master.

Less than a year later, when I was nearly 19 years old, he died suddenly from what seemed like a bad cold. His son, a man only a few years my senior, inherited the house and all of the slaves working in it, including me. I never knew the son very well, but from what I heard it seemed like he was a good hearted but spoiled boy, doted on by his parents . At that point, I didn't care how spoiled he was, as long as he was more kind than his vile father.

It turned out that the young Agapetus was somewhat irresponsible and careless with his money, spending a lot of time with his friends all of whom seemed to be equally as careless as he. Often, I was taken along with him on hunts with his pals, and it was on one of these such outings that my life was changed, possibly forever.

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It was about 8 months after Agapetus' father had died, and much of this time I had spent accompanying my new master and his friends on hunting trips to the nearby mountains. Agapetus had seemed to take a liking to me for some reason or another, so he often asked me to go with him. I always said yes, eager to get out of the house and away from work, even if it meant having to share my time with the loud and unruly pack of young men that made up his hunting group.

They usually went by foot, followed by a pack of faithful hounds, though sometimes they managed to get horses. On such a rare occasion, I normally would not go, but one day the horses came along with a pony which was given to me. I had tagged along in the back, simply enjoying the fresh air and the ride. I'd never been riding before, so it was a new experience for me and I was rather slow compared to the others. I plodded along on my fat pony, letting the rest of the group gallop a good ways ahead in hot pursuit of the particular boar that they were after.

After a few minutes had passed, the silence of the woods around me was broken by a clamor up ahead. I couldn't see anything, so I took my pony's reins in hand and tried to urge the beast to a faster pace, only somewhat successfully. I had reached the commotion at a stuttering trot, and saw the group of young men, the four or five of them, stopped in the middle of the path. Their horses were tied up idly to the strong cork trees lining the path, and the boys seemed to be huddled around something in the middle. There were provisions and weapons scattered about on the ground, and I carefully got off of my mount and approached. Agapetus had glanced up briefly and catching sight of me, motioned me over. I squeezed in between the brothers Caelus and Terrus to see Claudius, my master's closest friend, lying on the ground in a horribly contorted position. His back was twisted at a frightfully unnatural angle, while his entire lower body was trapped beneath the writhing weight of his horse. Beside me, one of the brothers was frantically trying to drag the horse off of the fallen man, while the other seemed shocked into inaction.

Agapetus, who had managed to somewhat keep his head during the chaos, knelt beside his friend and leaned in close. After a moment he looked up, the unchecked panic plain on his face. "He's not breathing."

I took Claudius' wrist in my hand, searching for a pulse. I didn't know him very well, and in most circumstances I would not have been so forward, but I figured it was alright given the rather dire situation. At first it seemed like it was over, but then I felt the impossible; a slight throb, so tiny it was barely noticeable, just beneath my right index finger that was pressed into the soft skin of his wrist. "Yes, he is." I lept up to my feet and shook Ageptus' shoulders. "He's alive."

My master, to his credit, quickly took charge. "I'm going to go for help. Caelus, come with me. Terrus and Clemens, you two stay here with Claudius." And with that, he swung onto his steed and galloped off back the way we came with Caelus close on his heels.

By then, the spooked horse had managed to twist up and off of Claudius, and had bolted. We didn't want to move the man himself for fear of injuring him further, so we sat down on the grass beside him and waited for reinforcements.

"There was a hole," Terrus said by way of explanation. "We were going fast, the horse broke its ankle in the hole and sent poor Claudius flying, then pitched forward and landed on him." Neither of us wanted to say what we were both thinking: I had seen injuries like this before, and it seemed extremely unlikely that he would survive.

During the ten minutes that we waited, Claudius' pulse stayed weak and inconsistent, but it was there. He was unconscious, so he had probably suffered some sort of head trauma. When Agapetus and Caelus finally returned, they brought three mounted village men with them. The men lifted Claudius' prostrate form carefully onto one horse, and then we all headed back to his own house, which was unfortunately a few cities away.

Like my own master, he was rich and orphaned, but unlike the household I belonged to, there were very few slaves employed there and the house was unkempt and abandoned-looking. We lay him in his bed and thanked the men, who returned to wherever they came from. Now we were faced with the problem of nursing and care. In the house itself there was only a cook, a clueless older woman who did cleaning, and a man who worked outside in the garden. Out of these, apparently none knew anything about medical care, and Agapetus didn't seem to trust them with the life of his best friend. So he volunteered me, of course.

"Clemens, would you stay here for a couple of days just while we get things sorted? You're my best slave, and you'll serve him well. It won't be for long, just until… something happens."

Even though I knew nothing about treating an unconscious person who just got crushed by a horse, I was faithful to my master, so what could I say. "I would be honoured, domine."

After he arranged for me to stay to look after Claudius, Agapetus left with Caelus and Terrus, leaving me alone in a huge, empty house with no one but nearly dead man lying ashen-faced beside me. I let out a long exhalation, fiddling with the sheet in my hand. How did I get into this mess?

There was a single knock on the door, and a tall, slightly heavy-set man with a beard walked in. "Oh, I'm sorry," he said apologetically with a smile. "I thought you'd all left."

"No, not at all," I smiled back. "I'm just a servant, Agapetus's. I've been asked to stay for a few days, to help take care of Claudius."

His smile broadened, and he stuck out his hand. "I'm Grumio, the cook."

"Clemens." We shook, his eyes not once leaving my face. I admit, I was slightly uncomfortable. I was not looking forward to spending the next few days in the house of a stranger with his stranger servants.

"Well, I brought some bread for him, but if he's not awake…" Grumio trailed off, glancing at his master's still body.

"I don't think he can eat."

"Agreed."

We stood in silence for a moment, before he spoke up again. "Uh, do you… do you want to look around?"

"Do you think it's alright to leave him here?"

"He'll be fine on his own for a bit."

"In that case, that would be wonderful. Thanks," I said as he led me out of the room. I didn't know it then, but Agapetus' decision to have me stay may have been the best thing that ever happened to me.

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For the rest of the day, there was no change in Claudius’ condition. He remained completely comatose, not responding to anything at all. For such a large house, it was surprisingly poorly kept. Some rooms were bare and abandoned, and in certain places there seemed to be mold growing on the walls and in between the tiles on the floor. The old housekeeper, who didn’t seem to speak any Latin, showed me to a small room in the servants’ quarters where I was to sleep.

In the evening, I was watching Claudius when Grumio came into the room again, carrying a small bowl in his hands.

“Uh, hullo,” he smiled a little again. “I figured we’d better get some food into him.”

He pulled up a stool next to the bed and handed me the bowl. “Can you try to open his mouth a bit?”

“Sure…” Awkwardly, I propped up Claudius’s limp head and pried his teeth apart. Grumio spooned a bit of the porridge-like stuff into his master’s mouth and then rubbed his throat to get him to swallow.

We continued this process until the bowl was empty, and then Grumio stood up. "Hey, if you're at all hungry, I can cook us some dinner…"

I followed him to the kitchen, where he pulled out a chair for me to sit on as he started to boil some water in the brick oven.

About an hour later, we were both seated at the modest table in the middle of the kitchen. It seemed like it was made for more of a counter sort of thing rather than for meals to be eaten off it, but now it was displaying a feast, by my standards. A fried fish took the center stage, accompanied by cabbage, bread, and grapes.

"This is amazing, thank you." I looked at the cook.

"My pleasure."

Despite the simple menu, that dinner was probably one of the most delicious meals I'd ever eaten. After a while, our conversation got a little more comfortable. He asked me about my childhood, and I realized that I hadn't talked like this to anyone for a long time, if at all. He sat and listened, through the entire story of how my parents met, how my father died, my entire life, really, up until now. It felt like a weight had been taken off my shoulders. After years of holding in everything tightly, I was finally letting go, sharing it with someone. And he may have been a total stranger, but he was a good listener, and after I was done we both sat silently for a long while. It had gotten dark outside, and the summer birds had stopped their song for the night.

Grumio and I walked back to the servants' quarters, and he showed me where his room was. "If you need anything, I'm right here," he said, pointing to a door just down the hall from where I was to sleep.

"Thank you, I'm sure I'll be fine. And Grumio," I paused. "Dinner was lovely."

This earned me a small smile, then he bade me good night and disappeared into his bedroom.

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That night it rained. Unable to sleep, I lay awake in my cot staring at the cracks in the ceiling as the droplets of water tap-danced on the roof. No matter how many times I told myself to shut up and go to sleep, my mind kept replaying that moment earlier in the day, when I opened the door to see a beautiful young stranger standing next to my unconscious master. His golden hair and sweet smile seemed to be burned into the back of my eyelids, filling my vision whenever I closed my eyes.

I don't know what made me get up, but I knew that I needed to get some air and walk around a bit if I ever wanted to fall asleep. Trying to be as quiet as possible, I put on a loose tunic and crept out of my room. The house was dark and quiet, save for the patter of the rain in the impluvium. I stood next to the little pool of water and extended one hand into the spray falling from the night sky. There was a nearly full moon outside and although dark clouds obscured most of it's light, a single beam peered through a patch in the haze and shone into the room, reflecting off the water and illuminating a shimmering cloud of tiny droplets as they fell. After a few minutes I turned to head back to bed. I would need to get up early the next morning to tend to my master and some sleep would be nice.

I was just outside my door when I noticed a bundle on the floor a few paces away from where I was standing. Upon closer examination, I realized it was the new slave, Clemens, half lying on and half covered by a single sheet. His wavy dark blond hair was flopping over his his left arm, which was tucked just beneath his head. The second long arm was strewn across his body with a corner of the sheet clutched tightly  in his hand and one leg was uncovered up to the thigh, the smooth skin pale in the darkness.

I stared for a moment, finding the sight of this sleeping young man oddly captivating. Refocusing, I wondered what to do. I didn't know if he was sleepwalking or what the deal was, but I felt like I should do something. After some contemplation, I managed to gather his lithe body up in my arms and carry him into my own room, where I lay him down on my cot and carefully rearranged the sheet to cover him fully. He gave a tiny sigh but didn't wake up, so I lay a blanket on the floor next to him for myself. Listening to his slow, even breaths, my eyelids soon grew heavy and I drifted off to sleep.

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When I woke up, Clemens was gone. He took his sheet with him and there was no other evidence of his being in the room at all. If it wasn't for the vivid images in my mind and the faint, sweet woodsy smell of him that still lingered in the fabric of my cot, I would have dismissed the previous night's events as a mere dream, but I knew with nearly absolute certainty that they had indeed occurred.

I found him in Claudius' quarters, bathing my master with a damp washcloth. When I entered he did not look up, but I saw him trying to hide a smile. "Good morning," he greeted cheerfully.

"Good morning to you." I grabbed another cloth and began to rub down Claudius' chest. "Hey, uh, was everything alright last night?"

He still wouldn't meet my eyes. "I'm sorry if I was a nuisance. It's just that there was a leak in the ceiling of my room and I was getting wet, only I didn't want to wake you so —"

"Clemens." I cut him off, and he finally looked up, surprised. "It's fine. I wasn't sleeping anyways, and please, if anything is ever bothering you, tell me and I will do my best to fix it." I was a little embarrassed for having said so much, and at first I was afraid I'd made him uncomfortable. But then his face softened and his full, bow-shaped lips curved ever-so-slightly into a tiny smile. An odd little chill flitted from my neck down to the base of my spine, and I ended up having to look away from his intoxicating blue-grey gaze. Without another word he rose and exited the room, leaving me alone with my inanimate master and my own muddled thoughts.

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I rushed down the empty hall, the forgotten washcloth still gripped in one white-knuckled hand. I stopped a few meters away and took a deep breath, leaning my forehead against the wall. My pulse was racing sporadically and my mind was reeling; something had happened back in that room but I didn't know quite what it was. It seemed almost like time had stopped for a moment and the long seconds were hanging suspended in the air that had suddenly turned thick and warm.

I felt strangely drawn to this Grumio; he was proving to be the most — interesting? Intriguing? I wasn't sure what word to use — thing about my stay at Claudius' villa. Last night, when I was jarred awake by the feeling of wetness dripping onto my forehead, I first thought about going to Grumio, but then I decided that it wasn't fair to wake him for something so stupid. I set up camp in the hall and fell asleep easily. I don't remember him finding me, just the feeling of strong arms wrapped around me and the warmth of his body as he held me to his chest. I woke up in his unfamiliar bed, my arm extending awkwardly close to his own. He was lying on a blanket about a foot away from me, and his face was tilted towards me. As I looked at his sleeping features, I realized that despite the slightly rough outer appearance, he was not actually that much older than me. I had left the room as quietly as I could so as not to wake him and headed up to check on the injured man. Right then, in the morning so early that the birds had not yet started to sing, I had begun to fall.

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For the rest of the day I was utterly distracted. I couldn't concentrate on anything except the way that Clemens' hair curled around his ear or the way his long, golden eyelashes glinted when they caught the sun's rays. Honestly, I didn't know what was wrong with me. He had seized complete control of my being and stricken me with this terrible plague. Every living moment I spent with him haunting each and every one of my thoughts.

As the hours passed, it became a perpetual unquenchable thirst. Whenever he was within ten paces of me, I felt myself being pulled towards him and it took all of my willpower to keep myself from getting too close. I didn't want to scare him away, and I was careful not to show any difference in my actions. He may have caught me staring a couple of times, but I quickly dropped my gaze so I wasn't sure. Once our hands brushed, and I thought my heart would beat out of my chest.

That night we ate together again, but Clemens was uncharacteristically quiet and an uncomfortable silence soon settled over us like a blanket of thick fog. Even though it wasn't raining anymore, I moved him to a different room that hopefully was in better condition.

After making sure he was settled, I returned to my own bedroom. Once again, I was not at all tired, but this time my insomnia was due to the pounding of my heart. About an hour and a half into the night I got up again and wandered around for a bit. Somehow I found myself standing in front of his closed door, and there I stood for several long minutes. I wanted nothing more than to open that door and go inside, but I knew that that would be a very, very bad idea. I pressed my ear against the wood, but I couldn't hear anything. This single piece of oak was the only thing between me and that beautiful young man, and for a few moments I was filled with such an intense longing for him that I almost couldn't breathe. I don't know when I realized that I was hopelessly, madly in love with him, but I had never felt it more strongly than I did at that moment. And I knew that it would only get worse and worse, eating away at me from the inside until it had completely consumed me unless I did something.

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The next day, I woke up thankfully dry and, wanting a breath of fresh air, went out to the horto. The rich soil was still damp from the rain and early morning dew that had condensed on the fresh blades of grass soaked my wet feet. The horto was obviously one of the better-kept parts of the villa. A tall Greek statue of a pretty girl with a bow slung across her back and a deer hanging by its back hooves from her hand stood on a bush-covered pedestal, which was surrounded by a bed of blooming hyacinths. Spring was my favourite season; everything was so young and new and unsoiled, ignorant of the harsh heat of summer and the ruthless bite of winter. Even when it rained, which happened quite a lot, it felt refreshing and cleansing, as if the water was filtering through everything in the world and washing away all the impurities.

In the garden I could forget about whatever was going on in my life and just live like the trees and the plants: carefree and oblivious to any problems. Leaning my back against a thick, sturdy oak I slid down into a sitting position and closed my eyes. The smell of earth and life filled my nostrils and I let out a deep breath. Seriously, what was I doing here? This was not supposed to happen, none of this. I was not supposed to be asked to stay in this decaying house, I was not supposed to be expected to care for the friend of my master who is badly injured and possibly dying, and I was certainly not supposed to… have this thing about Grumio. And I honestly didn't know what it was, but whenever he walked in the room, my stomach would just flip a little bit and my heart would do a weird jump-beat and start pounding. I couldn't help it, there was nothing I could do. He seemed like a nice guy, but he was… well, a stranger, really. A stranger man, at that. And for some reason I had begun to think that what I was feeling was not simply friendship, but something else entirely.

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Although he didn't know it, I was watching Clemens while he was in the horto that morning. He looked so peaceful and calm, sitting out there on the grass with the blue hyacinths surrounding him, such a contrast to the confusion inside my heart.

Later that day Clemens went into the city to take care of some business, he said. I gave him money and a list of ingredients to buy for the dinner I was planning for the evening. For three long hours I had to find things to do as I waited for him to return. I told myself that it was fine, that he just needed some time with the rest of society, but I was still jittery and anxious.

Finally, he got back, carrying several bags with the items I had requested. I made him leave the kitchen, because having people watch me made me nervous, especially if it was him watching, plus I wanted it to be a surprise. I got to work, setting out my best knife and my favourite cutting board. I chopped, minced, sliced, skinned, toasted, mixed, stuffed, baked, boiled, pan-fried, blanched, drizzled, and stirred, and after a few hours I was finished.

I wiped down the table in the triclinium and meticulously lay down our feast. Through a guy I knew, I had ordered 16 dormice for a discount, which I baked and gingerly stuffed with pork and toasted pine-nuts. I had opened a pot of garum that had been sitting in my cabinet for a while and put a bit on the greenest, freshest asparagus I'd ever seen. I also found an amphora of a valuable white Caucinian from Falernus that a friend of Claudius' had brought years ago but was forgotten and never opened.

I went to fetch Clemens. He was in the atrium, looking at the frescoes on the walls. "Dinner is ready," I said, and took his hand to lead him into the triclinium. I think he was surprised at the contact, but he smiled and happily followed.

He stopped dead in his heels when I opened the door. "Oh, Grumio, you did not."

I smiled. "Oh, yes I did,"

He glanced at me. "By Hercules, you shouldn't have. I don't know how to accept this, Grumio, nobody's ever…"

"Just sit down." I let go of his hand and he complied, almost gliding to one of the recliners.

I served him first, then myself, and poured us both some wine. "Please, start."

He obeyed, pinching a dormouse in between his two fingers and taking a bite.

He closed his eyes and gave a little moan, a positively sinful sound that nearly made me black out.  "This…this is really incredible. Really, I don't know how you do this. Grumio, you have a gift."  

No compliment had ever made me happier. I felt all warm inside, like I had just drank some hot milk and I'm pretty sure I was beaming.  

At first, we didn't talk much, but as the food disappeared from our plates we started chatting. "So, I've told you about how I grew up, now you have to tell me about yourself," he said, glancing up at me.

"There's not much to tell, I suppose. I was born into slavery, my parents were originally Greek. When I was three my father was sold to another household so I don't remember him much. My mother taught me how to cook, she was a brilliant chef, and baker as well. Our master had a terrible sweet tooth, and I remember that whenever he requested globi, these round, fried things that I adored, my mother would always let me have the first and last ones of the batch. She had this ring, that had been passed down through her family for generations, and her signature thing was to press the ring to the bottom of the globi, leaving a little flower shaped imprint hidden underneath." I paused, letting the memories of my mother and the globi fill my mind. I promised myself that one day, I would make those globi for Clemens.

"Anyway, I stayed with her until I was fourteen. And then, having accidentally proven my skill as a cook, (I'll tell you about that one later) I was sold away by myself. On the day that I left home, my mother gave me the ring, and I've had it ever since."

We sat in a comfortable silence for a while, until I finally sat up and stretched. "You can go to bed if you'd like, I've got to clean this up."

"I'll help," he rose to lend his assistance, but I stopped him.

"Certainly not, I wouldn't dream of it."

"Alright, if you insist. I'm going to check on Claudius, then. Don't wait for me." With a nod, he left the room.

After I had brought all of our dishes back to the kitchen and washed each one, it was quite late. Clemens had said not to wait, and I hadn't heard him go to his room, but I had an inkling of where he might be. Sure enough, when I peeked out, I was able to see his slim, muscular form sitting on a marble bench in the hortum, the silvery caress of the almost round moon illuminating his bare arms and upturned face. He was so, so,  achingly beautiful that I wished I was a painter so I could paint a picture of that moment, preserving it forever.

I stepped out onto the springy earth and padded softly over to him. He jumped a bit when he saw me, but moved over on the bench so I could sit. "Hey," I said quietly. For some reason it didn't feel right to speak above a low murmur. "Are you okay?"

He didn’t answer, instead tilting his chin up and looking at the thousands of stars that peppered the endless darkness of the sky. "Yeah. I just…" he sighed and ran a hand through his hair, causing a single curl to fall over his forehead like a little question mark. "I didn't want to tell you before, but I'm leaving."

"What?"

"I'm going back to my master's house. I saw him in the forum and he said he wanted me to come home." He looked away.

"When do you go?"

"Now." He met my gaze, his gray eyes silver in the moonlight. He had a wistful expression on his face that cut through me like a knife through a soft cheese.

I nodded, even though I didn't want it to be true.

"Grumio, I'm really sorry. I just wish… I don't know. I don't even know what I want anymore." He leaned his head against my shoulder, and when he spoke again his voice broke a little bit, along with my heart. "I'm just so confused."

"Shhh." I put an arm around him, pulling him close to me.

He went on. "I don't know what I'm going to do. I don't want to go, I don't want to leave you."

"I know, Clemens. I know. But you must, that is where your future is. You are so smart and so young, soon you will forget about me. You'll get freed and you'll meet a pretty girl one day, and you'll settle down with many children. You have so much to live for still."

"But I don't want that," he choked out, warm tears running down his cheeks and soaking into my tunic. "I don't want that. I want to live for you, Grumio, can't you see? I love you! You’re wrong, I’ll never forget you. I will wait, I’ll wait for a hundred years if I have to, but I’m never going to give up on you. "

By now I was weeping freely as well. I grabbed him by the forearms and pulled him up to his feet. "We have to stop this. You're going to leave, right now. There's nothing either one of us can do about it, and it is going to hurt like nothing’s ever hurt before, but you have to go."

"But Grumio, don't you love me?" His voice was small.

I took his head in my hands, cupping his cheeks and brushing away the tears with my thumbs. "Regardless of my answer, it's still going to hurt. So I will not answer now, but take this," I lifted the leather cord from which hung the ring off of my neck and placed it over his own head.

"No, Grumio, that's your mother's, I can't—" he began to protest but I pressed my mouth tightly against his before he could finish. He tasted sweet, and that kiss was the single best thing I had ever experienced. After what felt like a far-too-short infinity he pulled away, breathing hard.

“I’ll give it back to you when I see you again.” He looked me in the eye decisively.

“Okay.” I gave a stiff nod, and began to turn away.

I heard his footsteps in the grass, but suddenly they stopped. “Grumio, wait.” We both turned back at the same time, and he bent down to pick one of the hyacinths that were growing at our feet. He pulled me into a tight embrace for about ten seconds, pressed the flower into my hand, and then ran off into the night without saying another word. Dashing tears away from my eyes I wandered around the horto for a good hour. It felt so empty without him in it, this place that I had begun to associate with his presence.

I fell asleep on the grass, the blue hyacinth resting on my chest. The statue of Diana was standing tall and brave above me, her calculated expression saying, “This is why I vowed never to love. You loved, and now your heart is broken.”

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Chapter Text

As the years passed I returned to my previous lifestyle under the ownership of Agapetus. He, however, changed from the carefree, often foolish boy that he had been before and turned into something more dangerous and sinister. He got involved with a new group of friends, forgetting his old ones and instead going off with these strange men. He never brought me along, in fact, I had no idea what he did when he went away with them. Sometimes he came back in the middle of the night and locked himself up in his room, not showing his face for several days on end.

I was depressed and lonely, even though I was only 25 years old. I'd tried my hand a few times with girls, but every time I would find myself not ready to commit and not entirely interested. There was always a little something in the back of my mind nagging at me, saying, "this is not right, this is not the right thing for you."

I hadn't been truly alive for years, and apparently Agapetus hadn't been either because one night he came home at in the wee hours of the night, drunker than ever, and went up to his room. The next morning he was dead from mixing too much opium into his wine, they said. Since he had never liberated me when he was alive, I was given to a slave-dealer and put back on the market.

I had completely forgotten what chains felt like. They were horrible. My wrists and ankles were rubbed raw and by the time the trip was over, I had more than once contemplated ways to kill myself. Ever since those days so many years ago when I had felt what it was to love, I realized I simply had nothing to live for anymore. I was never complete after that, and it felt useless to go about my life as a shell, a shadow of what I used to be.

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Fortunately, my suicidal thoughts never became reality. We docked fifteen days later in a small city near Rome called Pompeii. All of us slaves filed off the ship, walking one by one and as quickly as the chains permitted.

The venalicius planned to stay for a day here before continuing to Rome. Customers came and went, some buying and some just looking. In the late afternoon, a tall, middle-aged man with a large nose came inquiring about a manservant. After some chatting, the venalicius called me over.

"This is a young, hardworking slave. He will serve you well." He said, addressing the potential buyer.

The man looked to me, scanning me up and down with his eyes. "What is your name?"

"Clemens, sir." My voice was a little rusty from disuse.

"How much do you want for him?" Money was exchanged, and I was freed from the chains that bound me to the other slaves.

The venalicius was about to put me in a set of individual chains, but Caecilius (he'd introduced himself to the slave dealer) stopped him. "I don't think that will be necessary," he said. He seemed very kind, and I hoped he would stay this benign when we got home.

We walked back to his villa, which was large but not overly showy. He was clearly a man with lots of money, but he didn't flaunt it. When we went in, we found the family in a turmoil.

A woman who I assumed was my mistress greeted us in the atrium. "You have a new slave, good. A senator is coming to dinner but the cook is on a day off visiting his stupid girlfriend and there is not a bite of food in the house!!" She waved her hands about frantically. "You, servant, you need to go and buy these things. You speak Latin?" I nodded. "Good. Come back as quickly as you can. Now go!" She handed me a list of food items and ushered me out the door.

The sky was dark with clouds, and I tucked the list inside my tunic to keep it from getting wet if it started raining. Sure enough, five minutes later I felt the first raindrop. As if that raindrop was a warning shot, water started peppering down all around, until it was falling thick and hard, forming little splashes of mud when it hit the dirt path. It wasn't a little drizzle, or even a shower; it was a torrent. I was soaked in less than a minute, my hair dripping down my face and my tunic completely plastered to my skin. Up ahead I caught sight of a little gazebo thing on the grass, and I ran into it.

There was already someone there, looking out from the shelter of the small roof. He began to turn around when he heard my footsteps on the wood. "Unlucky to be caught in this storm, isn't…" suddenly, his voice trailed off and he froze. "No, it can't be."

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I ran my eyes across his face, remembering every tiny detail. "That's not possible." My voice caught in my throat.

His golden hair was darkened from the rain, and he looked older, of course. His face was a little more hardened and frighteningly gaunt, and his arms more muscled, but I could still recognize him anywhere.

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I took one step forward and raised my hand to his face. His beard felt rough under my fingers as I had always remembered it, and I mapped every dip and feature in my mind.

"Grumio?" I whispered, not believing it yet wanting so badly for it to be true. "Is this real?"

"Clemens," he said. "Oh, Clemens," he gathered me into his arms, pressing me close against his body. After years — years! — of fruitlessly hoping, hopelessly wanting and his memory haunting my dreams every night, finally I was back where I belonged.

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I clutched him close and bunched my fists up in the sodden fabric of his tunic, never wanting to let go. I buried my face in his shoulder and breathed in his smell, and  before I knew it my entire body was shaking with sobs. He tightened his hold around me and rocked us both back and forth on our feet. Neither of us said a word, we didn’t have to.

After a long time of standing and desperately embracing each other, Clemens finally let go of me, only to lean forward and kiss me passionately. He tangled his hand up in my hair, pulling me even closer and deepening the kiss. He took a step backward so he was sandwiched wonderfully between me and one of the columns of the pavilion, Eventually we had to come up for air, and I rested my forehead against his. We were both breathing hard, our air mixing in the tiny space between us. As the thunder boomed overhead I reached up to tuck a stray bit of wet hair behind his ear and he smiled sweetly.

“I’ve missed you,” he said softly.

“I’ve missed you so much I thought I would break,” I replied. And it was true. So many times I’d woken up in the middle of the night aching for him with my pillow soaked through with tears, the warmth of his arms around me still fresh in my memory, and then I’d see the cold, empty space next to me and cry myself back to sleep. There'd been women, sure, lots of women. But no matter how much I told myself I was into them,  I could never get Clemens' image out of my mind.

"Hey, I've got something for you," he took his hands off of my waist where they had been previously resting and moved to his own neck, where he fumbled for a bit before producing the ring that I had given him the night that we parted, which was hanging on a now-tattered leather string.

"You know what?" I said, kissing him lightly again. "You keep it. I don't need it anymore, I've got you now." I took the cord from him and re-fastened it around his neck. As I was tying it his eyes never left my face, and when I was done he let out a short giggle and pulled me down for another kiss. I pressed my hands against his back, moving my palms across the wet cloth that clung to his body, beautifully highlighting his toned muscles.

"Oh, I love you." He sighed against my mouth. "I never stopped loving you, not for a single second, and I never will."

"Nor will I." We stood and listened to the falling rain for a few more minutes, still wrapped up in each other's arms.

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"Oh, curses, I was supposed to buy food." I pulled back, dragging my hands back from where they had been clasped around Grumio's neck and leaving them resting on his chest. "I was bought today and our cook is out with his girlfriend, and apparently the senator is coming for dinner." Suddenly he got this funny look on his face.  

"Clemens, what is the name of your new master?"

"Um, he said it to the slave dealer who sold me…" I racked my brains, trying to remember. "I'm pretty sure it was Julius something. Julius… Julius Caecilius Iucundus!"

The look on his face had evolved into one of amazement. "You cannot be serious."

"Why would I joke about this? What is wrong?" I was very confused.

"Julius Caecilius Iucundus is a banker; he has a son Quintus with his wife, Metella. His newest addition to his servants is Clemens, a quite lovely and beautiful young man." Here I punched him in the arm playfully. "Some of his older slaves include Melissa, a pretty girl who is actually quite dull-witted, and,” He took a deep breath, shrugged his shoulders and crooked a smile. “...his faithful cook, Grumio."

My mouth fell open and I floundered around a bit, completely at a loss for words. “You…” I let out a short laugh. “Oh my gods, Grumio, this… you…”

He began to chuckle as well, and then we were both laughing. I grabbed the front of his tunic and pulled him in for a kiss.

"I'm so glad that you waited for me," he murmured.

"Me too, Grumio, me too."

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We stayed under the shelter of the pavilion until the rain slowed. About half an hour later it had diminished to a drizzle, so I picked Clemens up from where he had been sitting with his head on my shoulder. He was so light, almost freakishly so, so I carried him down the small steps and onto the street.

"What are you doing?" I could hear the smile in his voice as he reached up and slung an arm around my shoulders.

"My darling, you've found someone to carry you home."

He buried his face in the crook of my neck and I felt his warm tears on my already wet skin. "Oh, Clemens, don't cry. Please don't cry, I'm here now. You don't have to cry anymore."

This only made him weep harder. "You're so perfect. After that night in the garden I'd thought I'd never see you again, and now, just… its a miracle. It's a real miracle."

I tightened my hold on him. "You know, after you left I spent all my nights in that garden. The sweet smell of the hyacinths has always reminded me of you, and it's been my favourite scent ever since. My heart belongs to you, Clemens, to you and to you only. You can do what you will with it, but know that I’ll always, always love you with the entirety of my being."

I carried him the rest of the way home. A few minutes before we arrived, he finally spoke up. "So what about that girlfriend?"

"Hmm? Oh, her. She's nobody, trust me. Her name’s Poppaea, I'll break up with her tomorrow.”

“You’d better…”

I smiled. “I told you, my darling, you are the only one.”

By now we had reached the street that Caecilius lived on. "I'm going to put you down now," I murmured to Clemens. He nodded and swung his feet onto the glistening wet cobbles. Hand in hand we walked to the back entrance, where Quintus was standing.

"Oh, hello. You must be the new slave," he said to Clemens.

Before he could answer Metella came swooping in to the room. "Where've you been all day? We could have used your help back there!" She glared at me, then looked pointedly at our clasped hands. "What's this?"

"Sorry, mistress, I—" Clemens started to apologize but I interrupted.

"It was my fault, it's just that we… had met, earlier on in our lives, and so when we saw each other again, I kind of held him up."

Metella sniffed. "Well, luckily for you both the senator cancelled last minute. We'll be needing dinner later on but until then you can do as you please. Quintus, show the new slave his room, please." And with that, she left, leaving Clemens and I alone with her son.

"So, if you want to follow me, your room is this way," he said, shrugging down the hall.

"You know, Quintus?" I said. "I don't think he'll be needing the room."

"Huh?" The poor boy looked a little puzzled.

"Young master, listen to me. One day you will find someone who will make you go absolutely crazy in the best way possible. You'll be willing to sacrifice anything for them, and when this happens, you will feel like the luckiest man in the world. You might not understand now, but trust me, someday you will know exactly what I'm talking about. I finally found my someone, and he is the most wonderful, caring person I could ever have the fortune of calling my own. I came so close to losing my chance with him, so now I am never going to let him out of my sight again. I know better than that."

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