Chapter Text
The afternoon was like any other in Rome, the languid breeze brushing through the city, providing no respite for its inhabitants. In the palace, high on the white marble steps sat two brothers in their thrones, the Emperors of Rome. Caracalla and Geta were not particularly favoured amongst the public, their wrath and cruelty was well known, even amongst the senators who most people assumed would be untouchable. No, they exercised their right to show their power without consequence and they did it well.
There was no love lost between the brothers, both had resented each other’s existence, cursing the other for the simple fact that the throne was now shared between them. Geta in particular hated this, he was the older of the two and felt that he deserved the throne for himself. Besides, Caracalla was immature with his rage, Geta thought. His rage was born out of a childish need to get his own way or to try and prove that he had any semblance of authority, not Geta’s rage though, Geta revelled in his own wrath, he knew his anger caused fear in the senate and he enjoyed knowing that he had that sort of emotional power to him, a power that he would often take advantage of, throwing the odd plate or vase in council meetings to scare the generals and senators in attendance.
Months had passed with Geta sharing his role as Emperor with his brother, it was a situation that was now becoming tiring to him to say the least. He could only think of two ways that would hopefully move the public towards favouring his authority as the sole Emperor. The first option would be to have Caracalla killed, this would definitely cement his claim to the thrown, but fratricide was heavily frowned upon by the Gods, that option was potentially ruled out for now. The other scenario would be to acquire a wife, this situation did not fill him with much joy either, Geta enjoyed his whores as he could ruin them however he pleased, he would have to be gentle with a wife and softness was a weakness to him. Nonetheless, it was the best option he had.
Soon after Geta had decided it was time for him to take a wife the word spread throughout Rome, Geta’s mother was thrilled at the prospect that maybe her son was finally going to calm down and settle with a family, his eyes only rolled at this comment for how naive she was being. The high born houses of Rome heard this summons that the Emperor was seeking a wife of good stock and good breeding and invited them to present a daughter for him to take as wife, many houses declined the invite for fear of what he would do to their beautiful and pure daughters, the refusal of his request would boil Geta’s blood further until the day you accepted his invitation.
It was a warm and boring summers eve when your family heard the news that Geta was looking for a wife, you were draped across a lavish bench in your garden soaking up the sun on your porcelain skin, no matter how much time you spent in the sun you never seemed to be blessed with its gifts of colour. Your father approached and told you of the Emperors summons, you almost leapt out of your relaxed position, begging your father to let you attend the palace and have an audience with Emperor Geta, not one to deny his daughter a request, also hoping to gain the Emperors favour, your father accepted and responded to the invite saying you would attend the palace on the morrow.
Geta had always been a fascination to you, you had attended the gladiator games several times in the last few years, and you would watch him in his podium, that enchanting sneer across his face. His bloodlust and cruelty plagued your mind daily after you first caught sight of him, you are not sure why but his threatening aura and the way he had no regard for human life would stir something inside of you, his unhinged nature called to something inside of you and you desperately wanted to answer it.
Much to your surprise, you were the only one to attend the palace and stand before Geta as a potential bride, you felt his eyes burn into your visage, he was barely trying to hold his anger that your were the only one present as an offering, his anger aroused you, causing a wetness to pool between your thighs as you felt his scorn upon you, trying to ignore the feeling you stood up straight and focused on the here and now, you wanted to be chosen by him. It wasn’t that Geta was offended by your offering, he thought you were incredibly beautiful, and your ivory skin was captivating, the red gown you were dressed, made him think of blood upon fresh snow which excited him more than he would care to admit. Geta gave a soft nod to one of his guards and they whisked you away to a private room adjoining his in the palace, you tried to turn back to see your father one last time only to see him smiling and bowing before Geta. This was it; you had been chosen as his wife. You now happily let the guards lead you away wherever they were told to take you.
The wedding took place not long after Geta accepted your offering, he had you dressed in crimson red again on the day, the contrast between your pale white skin and blood red cloth was just enrapturing to him, it made him think of how he wanted to sully that beautiful skin of yours, leaving his markings all over your body to make you know that you now belonged to him. Your wedding night came, and you felt yourself slightly disappointed, where was the angry Geta you had fantasised about? You wanted him to fuck you and choke you within an inch of your life, yet here he was snoring away drunk on too much wine, he attempted to grope at you, but he groped at the bedframe instead before falling asleep. No matter, you would get him to ruin you at some point.
Days and weeks passed by as you settled into the role of Empress, you did not have many responsibilities other than to provide Geta with an heir, something you had attempted very enthusiastically over the last few weeks. Most nights Geta would come into your chambers and ‘do his duty’ as was expected of him, these nights were alright, yet you preferred the nights he had been on the war council. He would return to your shared room throwing and shattering vases and glasses against the walls, it was in these nights he would take you roughly, biting and choking you, leaving his markings on your skin for all to see. Seeing Geta so unhinged and his anger at the surface aroused you immensely, those strong hands causing such devastation in your room made you bite your lip and wonder what they could do to you. This fact Geta had noticed after the third time he took you roughly and noticed how you had orgasmed intensely, your walls gripping and pulsing around his cock unlike when he normally took you. Surely you didn’t like his wrath right? You were not as bloodthirsty and angry as him?
Geta wanted to test his theory of your arousal after you seemed far too aroused when he choked you as he pounded deep into you one night, moaning his name as your arched your body towards him. This Is not what he was used to, it confused him, why were you not like the others and whimpering before him? This version of you excited him and spurred him on to be rougher each time, and each time he made you cum even harder for him. Geta decided he wanted to take it further and see if your bloodlust really matched his own, to see how much you truly enjoyed his wrath. He would take you to the gladiator games tomorrow.
You were thrilled to be at the games again, the smell of sweat and blood in the air was like a sweet nectar to you, smiling as you took your rightful seat next to your husband. You could feel Caracalla’s hateful gaze upon you, but you did not wish to engage with him, it was not worth indulging the brat. Geta and yourself sit at the edge of the royal balcony, you looked the vison of the Gods Jupiter and Juno, regal and commanding. The crowd chanting your names as they had fully accepted Geta now he had a wife beside him.
The games began. The first one was of no consequence, you rolled your eyes at how little of a contest it was. The day waned on until it came to the main event, you had drunk your fill of wine to combat the hot air, and you now felt a soft buzz, excited for the match ahead. Geta could see the excitement in your eyes at the upcoming match and he smiled, you definitely loved this as much as he did, and he revelled in that knowledge for now. The match was an intense one, one that kept you at the edge of your seat, gripping the fabric of your dress in anxiety, you wanted it to be bloody and they were dancing around rather than showing any action!
Eventually the match ends with no bloody conclusion, you slump back into your chair disappointed, you watch uninterested as the winning gladiator gloats about besting the other one who is laid on the floor exhausted, your eyes roll until you feel a familiar breath on your neck. “Would you like me to kill him my love?” your heart pounds at his whisper and your clench your legs together feeling the hot breath on your neck, you compose yourself ever so slightly.
“My Emperor?” you questioned, a nickname that unbeknownst to you had such an effect on him, you always made him feel like he was in charge, and he loved It.
“Would you like me to spare the loser or let him live?” His lips whisper against your ear as he begins to play with a rouge strand of your hair, twirling it around his fingers and he starts to kiss your neck, eagerly awaiting your answer.
A small moan escapes your lips as his touch” …Kill him…” you sigh and nearly whimper as he lets you go, standing up ready to put his thumb down, signifying death. The signal happens and the loser is killed, Geta turns to look at you with a wicked smile on his face, your thighs now crushing against each other to bring you some relief from the tension building there.
Gods, looking at that beautiful sneer and the way he enjoyed commanding the death of the gladiator, you knew that you were in for a fantastic night with him tonight.