Past-Part Fills Post 1 -- CLOSED
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Rome stopped laughing once he saw Gallia emerge from the tent, but his grin was still wide and warm, and Gallia could not resist smiling back.
“Good morning~!” Rome said cheerfully, motioning him over.
Germania’s mouth twitched into what might be something like a smile, which only made Gallia even more eager to know what they had been discussing.
“What are you talking about? Is it about me?”
Rome could not help but chuckle at the boy’s presumption. “Here, this one is yours.” There, at Germania’s side, was a beautiful white horse, bred from the noblest and strongest of lines, and now Rome was offering him the reins.
Speechless with delight, Gallia held one hand out to the filly, who looked back at him with alert black eyes. Once she had determined that this small human-like creature proved no danger, she sniffed at his hair curiously, then tried to chew at it, making Gallia giggle. He managed to free himself in order to give Rome a grateful hug, which was happily returned with some incoherent noises on the republic’s part.
Germania cleared his throat and business-like, handed Gallia his riding leathers, mentioning that they would be marching to the capital soon and he should get used to riding again. Much more timidly than with Rome, Gallia wrapped his arms around Germania’s waist to thank him, while the other nation looked uncomfortable and settled for giving him a pat on the head.
“You are not going to be so thankful once we march,” Rome warned, a rueful grin on his lips. “Civil war may break out in the capital at any time, and the general will be setting a fast pace.”
“I am a good rider, you needn’t worry about me,” Gallia assured Rome, and the two nations did not disbelieve him, having seen the boy at his mother’s side in battle. They watched as he whispered something into the horse’s ears and then as he clambered onto the saddle, perfectly at ease.
“See? We get along just fine!”
Though Germania regarded this extravagant gift of Rome’s with some suspicion, he could not deny feeling heartened to see the young nation so clearly happy after everything he had been through. It was apparent how Gallia's happiness affected Rome's own mood, but Germania did not believe it would divert the republic from his ambition for long. Still, he would not turn down a chance for a brief respite, and even attempted to smile once more at the other two nations.
Later that morning, after Rome had resumed overseeing the camp duties in preparation for their leave, Gallia snuck up behind him and yanked sharply on his cloak, only to squeal in surprise as Rome turned around and swiftly picked him up.
“What is it, little bird? Do you need something from me?” he asked, burying his face into that lovely golden hair as Gallia squirmed in his arms. He was finally set down, but found himself still trapped in the other’s embrace.
“I-I wanted to show you something, someplace special… if you have time, that is,” Gallia said, blushing hotly as Rome seemed intent on covering his face with kisses in front of everyone, even though none of the soldiers or servants made any indication that they noticed or disapproved. They must consider him a girl, Gallia thought sulkily, but he did not know a remedy for that just yet.
“I always have time for you, Gallia. Wait here, I’ll be with you in a few moments.” Rome did not believe this would cause a delay in the schedule, and thus entrusted the rest of the organization details to Germania, who glared at him warningly but said nothing.
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“Look, we’re here, Rome,” Gallia exclaimed, pointing ahead to a fair-sized clearing in which a shrine had been established. Back when it was first built, the menhirs must have looked impressive, but now the stones had fallen over, and it seemed that no one had used this place of worship in years. Wonderingly, Rome looked down at the youth beside him, trying to discern what purpose he served here. But there was no time to consider it as Gallia dragged him into the clearing.
“This is a shrine to Epona, our goddess of horses, and because you gave Avell to me as a gift, I thought you… might like to see her dedication.”
“Hah, I did not know that the Gauls had any peaceful gods,” Rome remarked. “From what I remember, your mother called only upon the ones who required my bloody head as sacrifice.”
“Teutates was her favorite, that’s true,” Gallia said, voice unusually stern. “But Epona nurtures us, so we pray to her for life, not death.” And Rome supposed he should be grateful that he was not to be burned or drowned or hanged in exchange for blessings on the horse.
Gallia retrieved the garland from his steed and set it on the crude altar, in front of a small statue of a woman sitting on a horse, their stone features worn down by rain and wind and time. Rome stood off to the side as the boy finished his prayers, speaking in that strange lilting language of half-pronounced consonants and song-like accents. His boyish voice faltered near the end, and he paused then to put his arms around Avell.
“Usually, we’d have apples as well. Because horses like apples,” Gallia explained, sounding slightly muffled by the horse’s mane.
Rome laid a comforting hand on Gallia’s shoulder. “Thank you for sharing this place with me, Gallia, I know it is very special to you. Perhaps, if you like, I can ask the senator if he would consider building a shrine for your Epona in the forum. I’m sure they would approve. She sounds… lovely.”
Gallia looked up, his face so childlike and vulnerable, it almost, almost made Rome feel guilty for deceiving him this way. “Y-you would do that for me? Rome, I… I can’t possibly repay you enough.”
Laughing, Rome threw an arm about the youth’s slender shoulders and gave him a slight squeeze. “Sweet Gallia, you do not owe me anything. Keep your gold for something else. But…” he smiled then, “I think I would like a kiss from you.”
“Oh, err… Don’t you kiss me enough already?” Gallia asked, nervously clutching at the fabric of his cloak as he sensed Avell abandoning him for a scrumptious patch of grass on the other side of the clearing.
“A real one this time, an adult kiss. You are a grown up, aren’t you?”
Gallia nodded. After all, he had slain plenty of Rome’s men, Germania’s too, so he was definitely considered a man by his people’s standards. He was also fairly sure that had little to do with Rome’s intentions.
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They drew apart to take a breath that had been forgotten in the rush, and Gallia smiled weakly to see the superiority wiped off of Rome’s flushed face.
“That was an adult kiss, right?”
“Yes, yes, very much so,” the republic murmured, distracted. “Though I would advise you to not do that in public.”
“Why?”
He could not find the words to explain right away, at least so that this beautiful, frustrating savage child could understand. “Here, Gallia, sit with me, I need to tell you something.” They sat down next to each other on the cool grass, and Rome took a few more breaths to slow his racing heart before he began.
“This would be your first lesson in the art of love, Gallia, are you not pleased?” Gallia made a face, and Rome grinned at his artlessness. “Pay attention now. This is called basium.” Rome kissed him again, lightly on the lips. “It is the kiss you may give to others in public, for greeting or farewell.”
“And saviolum, what we did first… you should not do that in public.” Certainly not in front of Germania, Rome thought, though it might be fun to see how he would react. “Saviolum means… it usually means that you wish to become intimate with the other person. While I’m not sure what the Gauls practice, such a gesture is not for other Roman citizens to witness.”
Gallia stared at him, wide-eyed, and then remembered to close his mouth. “Oh! I guess it’s a good thing no one else is here to see?”
“Correct. Shall we try the saviolum again? This time now that I have warning.” He patted his leg and said, “Come, sit on my lap, Gallia, yes, like that.”
If Gallia had not been particularly enthusiastic training under the auspices of Mars, he seemed much more open to the rites of Venus, and Rome thought that absolutely acceptable. He found nothing to criticize in the way Gallia initiated the kiss so confidently, how the boy twined slender fingers into his hair, then tugged at the wayward curls, and it was a blessed thing that Rome still retained some degree of self-discipline, for he did not expect that last bit at all.
Once they parted, curiously on the boy’s side, reluctantly on his, he rested his forehead against Gallia’s and whispered, “It makes you feel good, doesn’t it?”
Gallia licked his lips, nodding, and Rome had to again quell the thought of just ravishing the boy right there on the grass like a barbarian, because he wasn’t like them, definitely not. Even though they were in a nice secluded area and no one would hear and he would have Gallia promise to keep it secret, he knew Germania would suspect something, might have already, and he did not want to give the other nation any more reason to hate him before they even reached the capital. When did Germania develop such an uptight sense of propriety, he could not recall, but once they reached the city and the general paid the mercenaries the last of their gold, perhaps they might all get along better. He was quite fond of his neighbor to the north, whether or not those feelings were returned, and it was clear that Germania felt some regard for Gallia.
They would see things his way, sooner or later. It may well be later, but the empire could wait.
“Rome? Rome, can we… do it again?” Gallia asked shyly, eyes shining a matchless shade of violet-blue, and Rome, feeling a surge of something much like triumph, had to smile.
“Tonight, my Gallia, when we are alone.”
[footnotes: Teutates or Toutatis was a protector deity worshipped by the Gauls and Celts
menhirs: large standing stones, though I'm using them out of context here]
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The scene between Rome and Gallia was very sweet, and those little subtle details (the rose), and the altar. Also that even if Rome begins to teach Gallia of the art of love, Gallia is very much a natural at it.
Oh, there's so much more I want to comment~ Very much love how you write this. Can't wait for more!!!
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The further I read, the more I like this, especially the change in attidtude Germania seems to be undergoing.
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I love the details about the celtic gods, Gallia's innocent/eagerness, and the subtle complexities between Germania and Rome. I really hope you continue this.
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Thanks again for your support, I am so glad others enjoyed this as much as I've enjoyed writing it. Please bear with me!
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Whatever his feelings towards Gallia may be, Germania did not waste any time in setting the subject nation to work. Helping packing supplies and tents into saddlebags and wagons, running errands, fetching water; menial tasks Gallia was hoping he would never have to do again after the endless marches with his mother’s armies during the war. As most boys would, he made the best of his situation, chattering good-naturedly to the Germanic mercenaries and trying to get them to smile even though he did not know their language. The majority had ignored him, but a few smiled at him and replied in broken Latin, charmed by this small foreigner’s flighty behavior and looking somewhat dazed by that. Gallia counted those few as a sort of victory for himself, seeing as victories were rather hard to come by nowadays.
Germania then sent him away with a message for Rome, ordering him to return as soon as possible and to not linger in that one’s company for a moment longer than necessary. He delivered the message successfully, but Rome caught him before he could escape, refusing to let go despite his protests.
The general looked up from where he was resting - he had apparently been feeling unwell - and motioned the two of them over to his seat.
“Ave, young Gaul,” the general murmured, clasping Gallia’s hands in his own, giving no indication that he recognized him for who he really was. “My captain here says that he is very fond of you. He expresses the hope that you will become a loyal Roman citizen soon. Should I have reason to believe him?”
Returning the smile with the prettiest one he could manage, Gallia gave the general’s hands a light squeeze in his own before dropping them to his side. “Senator, that is not my decision to make, for Rome has destroyed everything that has made Gaul itself. I have no city left to call my own, no king to follow, no druids to teach me, no family to give me a purpose in life. All I have is Rome. Therefore, I must become Roman.”
“You are a very wise child, then, to realize this,” he replied almost sadly, as if regretting the numbers of men and women slain in order to bring the Celtae tribes into the empire, even though it had to be done if it were to happen at all. “May the gods watch over you, and give you their blessings.”
Gallia bowed his head slightly in farewell, because this resourceful soldier, the one who managed to bring down the might of Gaul, deserved that much at least. Rome, on the other hand, did not seem as impressed with his choice of words, and dragged him off with a grim look on his face.
“What made you say that to him, Gallia?” he asked quietly, as soon as they were out of hearing range of the general and his officers.
“It is the truth, isn’t it? I do not lie to my king, and I would not lie to yours.”
“He is certainly not my king! I have no king, remember?” They had done away with kings years ago, and Rome was now an upstanding republic of the finest order.
“You know, you look at him like Mother used to look at Vercingetorix,” Gallia observed, so casual to the point of sounding almost rude. “He is not your king, but I think he is very nearly one, in your eyes.” Because of me, Gallia added to himself, because he helped you win me.
A little surprised by this statement, Rome grinned sheepishly in acknowledgment. With the end of this campaign, the general’s eminent popularity was now established among the citizens, though he was not aware anyone else had noticed. Clever child, and exceptionally good at distracting him as well. None of the others had given him this much trouble, but since he could not let Gallia go now, he must take care to not lose his head. His heart, well, that was a forgone conclusion. It was lost the moment Rome first caught sight of him.
“Whatever you say, little one,” he said, changing the subject with a sigh. “Come, let us find something to eat before the cooks pack up and we are left with hardtack to gnaw upon.”
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But Rome was too tired to make any use of that privacy this night, not when he still had much left to do. He just barely managed to tuck a blanket around the boy before flopping onto his back beside him and drifting off into slumber.
During the next few days of the march, Rome discovered something very important about his charge, something he wished he had realized sooner, although it would not have changed the outcome in any way.
When Gallia was good, he was very good; obedient, sweet, and perfectly delightful in every way. But when he was bad, oh, he was absolutely, shamelessly, irrefutably evil.
Regrettably, there was little he could do, since Gallia more or less behaved in his presence, and only got to his mischief whenever he was unattended, and Rome simply could not watch over him every hour of the day. The witnesses specifically referred to him as the perpetrator, and Gallia himself did not deny that he was the one behind the minor stampedes, the release of three prisoners who thankfully were caught several hours later, the emptying amphorae of wine and then putting live frogs into them. Soon, several of the officers looked ready to murder their captain in his sleep for keeping the little savage around in the first place.
He was quite sure Germania was laughing at him deep down inside and would have accused him of conspiring with the boy but for the fact that Germania disapproved of mischief in general. Still, Rome had to talk to someone about this situation.
“He acts like any boy would,” Germania said at last, after Rome finished his long list of complaints about Gallia.
“And how would you know? Have you ever been a boy, Germania? I sometimes feel you came into this world fully grown, a frown permanently etched onto your face.” Rome shook his head, rubbing at his hair in frustration. “At any rate, how do you suggest I discipline him? I have to do something, before another captain tries to.” Gods only know how that might turn out.
Germania shrugged. “When he wants to behave, he will.”
“…Do you think a spanking will work?”
The cold blue stare spoke volumes, and Rome snorted in amusement.
“What? Gallia is mine to worry about, not yours. In fact, you should be thankful I took him out of your hair, now that you’ve seen how much trouble he has caused!”
If anything, Germania’s scowl deepened, and he rode off without even a salute.
[Sorry about the wait, I rewrote these parts several times and just wasn't happy with them. Hope this is okay and not too boring. Sigh.
Note: Julius Caesar suffered from seizures.]
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“Why are you doing this, Gallia? Why create so much trouble? Do you really hate us so much?” He had seemed so sweet and malleable at first, Rome should have known better, should have suspected he would act like his mother, resistant to the end.
“I don’t really know…” he admitted, not quite meeting Rome’s gaze. “…But if you are so upset with me, does that mean I can go?”
Ah… “Is that what this is all about?” Rome reached over and ruffled the boy’s hair, smiling despite his earlier resolve to look stern. “Gallia, as much as I would love to let you have your way, I can not grant you that just yet. You must earn it, as all new citizens must earn their freedom and place in society.”
“What do I have to do then?” And when he spoke like that, when he looked like that, he was impossible to resist.
“Come to Rome with me,” Rome answered without hesitation. “Learn to speak and read and write Latin, practice the necessary customs, accept the jurisdiction placed over your people. In every other way, the provinces are left to their own, to live however they want, as long as they do not disturb the peace. This is a great generosity that few other empires are willing to give to subject nations. Certainly it would not be beneath your pride to accept this, for your people?”
Gallia pouted, as if to imply that yes, it would be quite beneath his pride. Then it seemed as if he changed his mind, and finally he announced, “I could have escaped at any time, as soon as you gave me Avell. But I did not. Is that answer enough for you?”
Laughing at his stubbornness, Rome promised to untie him when they broke for the midday meal.
Though Gallia continued to sulk occasionally, he at least restricted his pranks to only bother Rome, which was an improvement overall. But to the republic’s disappointment, Gallia did not show any especial affection for him, and was eager to innocently flirt with anyone who caught his eye, which was almost everyone, asking for hugs from whoever might grant them. Rome quickly made it clear to the other soldiers that they were to keep their hands off of the young Gaul, no matter what, and it was a credit to their sense of discipline that they obeyed him despite Gallia’s charms. Though of course, keeping their hands off did not exclude them from admiring him and giving him flowers and whatever little treasures that might have been acquired during the campaign, and if the young nation had not already been in love with himself, he certainly was now.
“You are incorrigible,” Rome whispered one night as they lay together under the blankets.
“What do you mean by that? You’re the one that’s incorrible!”
“Incorrigible,” he corrected, smiling and tapping the boy on his nose. “I mean that you are my student, and thus you should show me respect as your benefactor. And I would appreciate it if you would stop flirting with the soldiers and mercenaries. They are good men, but not all men in the world are so trustworthy, and I fear for your safety if you continue such behavior.”
“Fine. I shall stop,” Gallia said, still looking rebellious.
“Kiss me, and I will believe you.”
“You drive hard bargains,” Gallia muttered, and obediently turned his face up towards the other’s. Rome leaned over and kissed him thoroughly, perhaps a little harder and more possessively than before, but he could not help it, not with such a prize he had fought so hard to claim. Hopefully one day, Gallia would make the first move, but until then, he must make do with what little progress they had made, vowing to carry on their lessons in this particular area as soon as possible.
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Gallia is just too adorable. ♥
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