Fic:Cerasum
First Ever Fic!!!!!!!
A farm. With horses. In Spain.
That’s what they’d eventually agreed upon. Marcus would tend the farm while Esca would breed horses. They had spent many hours on the journey back to Calleva talking about the future and many more hours, once safely back at Uncle Aquila’s villa, discussing it further. They had still argued good-naturedly about the virtues of farming versus hunting, about the logistics of breeding horses when they had little money for stock and only Esca’s knowledge to get them started but on one thing they were always agreed.
Spain; a fresh start for them both, somewhere with no memories for either of them of pain or anger or slavery or shattered dreams.
Marcus had his small army pension and, despite his protestations that he already owed his uncle far more than he could ever hope to repay, a purse of coins that the old man insisted was his birthright, and so he and Esca had travelled to northern Spain with enough money to buy some land and some breeding stock for Esca’s grand plan.
For two years now they had worked tirelessly and purchased the best horses they could afford. Part of the land they had put aside for farming, enough to grow a variety of crops; wheat, vegetables, grasses to make hay for the horses.
And of course there were the fruit trees.
Marcus had seen the established fruit trees and the vines on the farm and had practically offered the seller his full asking price and double again! This place reminded him so much of his childhood home, he had fallen in love with it at first sight.
There were some other trees he did not recognise however. Cerasum the seller had called them. Cherries. Marcus had never seen them before but he sampled the fruits they bore and had proclaimed them perfectly acceptable. Esca had tentatively nibbled at one of the small red fruits after scowling suspiciously at it and had then proceeded to devour almost an entire trees worth until his lips were stained red and he had complained of stomach pains for the rest of the day.
He had continued to gorge on the fruits whenever he could however and Marcus would frequently catch him, red-stained and sheepish.
It was hard work but they had a good life on their farm, he and Esca, and Marcus found that he was more than content to let things stay as they were; just the two of them, with occasional help hired when they needed it. There was time to sit back and enjoy the fruits of their labours these days; three yearlings already sold, another two on the way; the house and outbuildings mended, the crops growing steadily; alliances made with neighbours and local merchants.
And so it was that Marcus sat down in the shade of a tree one evening and watched Esca walk towards him, the basket in his hand hopefully containing some supper. Marcus was tired and hungry and he enjoyed the times they spent outdoors at the end of the day, leisurely eating and drinking while laughing over some local gossip that had reached their ears.
Esca sat next to him on the grass, producing wine, bread, olives and some of the cherries that grew on the trees behind the farmhouse.
“How are the horses?” Marcus asked, hungrily tearing a handful of bread from the loaf.
“Good,” Esca mumbled.
He still said little sometimes, seemingly content to let Marcus talk but this evening he seemed distracted. Marcus glanced over at him but Esca’s face was as inscrutable as ever.
They sat under the tree in an easy silence, eating their supper, Esca taking the lion’s share of the cherries as usual, and looked out over the land. Their land; tilled and sown and now steadily growing the harvest that would feed them and the horses come winter.
“We’ve done well, you and I,” Marcus said proudly, “The Gods have smiled upon us.”
Esca smiled and nodded his head slowly. For a moment Marcus thought he was going to remain silent but when he spoke it sounded carefully rehearsed, as if he had long been practising how best to ask his question.
“Will you still want me here once you have a family of your own?”
“What?” Marcus almost choked on the piece of bread he was eating. “Why would you ask such a thing?”
“It’s only that, now we are more established here, I expect you’ll start looking for a wife soon.”
“And why should I want you to leave?”
Esca shrugged and popped another cherry into his mouth, chewing thoughtfully and then spitting out the stone.
“I don’t want to get in the way. I thought perhaps that was why you’ve never really set your cap at anyone.”
“I’ve been too busy to think of such things.” Marcus turned his head to look back at the farmhouse, so that Esca would not be able to see in his eyes the truth of his reasons for being unmarried still. He had thought of finding a wife of course. It was expected of him. There were several daughters of Roman families in the area who were presentable and even the native women were olive-skinned and lively but Marcus had eyes for none of them. He was not the kind of man to marry for anything but love and he had long since accepted that his heart already belonged to another and always would.
“Besides,” he said, “who would breed the horses if you were gone? I know nothing of it and I am sure there is more to the whole thing than just pointing a stallion and a mare at each other.”
Esca nodded his head thoughtfully but seemed disinclined to steer away from the subject of family, as if he had some specific motive.
“What will you look for in your wife?” he asked.
Marcus took a deep breath and blew it out slowly.
“She would have to be someone who I can share everything with. I’ve no wish for a quiet mouse who sits it the corner and does nothing but look pretty.”
“No, I can’t imagine you with someone like that.”
“Patience, kindness, strength of will. Someone brave and honourable with a stout heart.”
“It’s a wife you’re choosing Marcus, not someone to stand next to you in battle.”
Marcus looked over at Esca and said the words before he could stop himself from speaking such nonsense.
“It is a pity I cannot marry you.”
Esca said nothing but continued to pop cherries into his mouth as if he hadn’t heard Marcus’ ridiculous statement. Finally, just as Marcus was about to apologise for his stupidity in case Esca had heard him after all, he spoke.
“I thought you wanted children.”
“What?”
“No point marrying me if you want children,” Esca replied, as if it were a perfectly normal thing for a freedman to say to his patron.
“No. I suppose not.” Marcus began to wonder if he had fallen asleep under the warm evening sun and this odd conversation was nothing but a dream. “You are a free man, Esca. You could have a family of your own.”
“I don’t think so.”
“Why not?”
Esca shifted, a strange look on his face.
“What need have I for a wife and children,” he said quietly, “when I have you.”
Marcus looked into the stormy grey-blue eyes that stared back at him as defiantly as ever and finally saw what he had failed to see before.
In all this time Marcus had never let his feelings show, he had been so deliberately careful. Over the years he had, on occasion, allowed himself to watch Esca, to admire the way in which his body moved with such grace and elegance. He had sometimes caught Esca watching him in return but Esca had never made mention of it and so neither had Marcus. It would not have been right. So he had ignored the first stirrings in his groin and then, some time later, the first stirrings of his heart.
But Esca was looking at him now in such a way that it left no room for doubt. There was want and desire and a devotion that Marcus knew was mirrored in his own eyes. He had looked into those eyes so many times before, how could he have missed the invitation contained in them?
Marcus had to look away for a moment to collect this thoughts and his eye was drawn to one last cherry lying forgotten on the grass. He picked it up by its stalk and held it out as if he were offering Esca something permanent; a contract perhaps, an understanding; but instead of taking it in his hand as Marcus expected, Esca leaned forward and took the fruit between his teeth, his eyes never leaving Marcus’ as he nibbled at the flesh until Marcus was left holding nothing but a stone on a stalk.
Without thinking further Marcus leaned in, pressing his lips against Esca’s, breathing in his scent and feeling the rasp of his stubble as Esca’s lips pressed back hard against his own. Esca tasted of wine and salt and sunshine but mostly cherries and Marcus knew that whenever he tasted cherries in the future it would always remind him of this moment, the true beginning of their life together.
For a while they simply lay there under the tree, hands and tongues gently exploring each other anew, glad that they worked their land alone and there were no farmhands around to consider as they slowly undressed each other.
Finally, spent and satisfied, they lay limbs entwined, murmuring words of endearment and watching the sun move lower in the sky until the light began to fade and a slight chill roused them to recover their clothing.
“So,” Esca said as they dressed. “No wife then.”
“No.” Marcus grinned at him. “No wife.”
“You are a Roman. It’s expected of you.”
“I care nothing for what others will think of me. I learned that lesson when we watched the eagle melt on Guern’s funeral pyre.”
“You won’t regret it?”
“I had always thought fondly of having a family of my own,” Marcus admitted, “but then, I had always thought to have a long and illustrious career in the army before I settled down. It appears that the Gods had a different path in mind for me all along and I shall have no regrets with my lot. Besides, some things are worth making a sacrifice for.”
Esca looked up at him.
“Such as?” he asked, a smile already playing around his mouth.
Marcus slung his arm around Esca’s shoulder as they made their way back towards the farmhouse and the chores that had to be done before bed.
“What need have I for a wife and children,” he said, placing a kiss on Esca’s cherry-stained lips, “when I have you.”
A farm. With horses. In Spain.
That’s what they’d eventually agreed upon. Marcus would tend the farm while Esca would breed horses. They had spent many hours on the journey back to Calleva talking about the future and many more hours, once safely back at Uncle Aquila’s villa, discussing it further. They had still argued good-naturedly about the virtues of farming versus hunting, about the logistics of breeding horses when they had little money for stock and only Esca’s knowledge to get them started but on one thing they were always agreed.
Spain; a fresh start for them both, somewhere with no memories for either of them of pain or anger or slavery or shattered dreams.
Marcus had his small army pension and, despite his protestations that he already owed his uncle far more than he could ever hope to repay, a purse of coins that the old man insisted was his birthright, and so he and Esca had travelled to northern Spain with enough money to buy some land and some breeding stock for Esca’s grand plan.
For two years now they had worked tirelessly and purchased the best horses they could afford. Part of the land they had put aside for farming, enough to grow a variety of crops; wheat, vegetables, grasses to make hay for the horses.
And of course there were the fruit trees.
Marcus had seen the established fruit trees and the vines on the farm and had practically offered the seller his full asking price and double again! This place reminded him so much of his childhood home, he had fallen in love with it at first sight.
There were some other trees he did not recognise however. Cerasum the seller had called them. Cherries. Marcus had never seen them before but he sampled the fruits they bore and had proclaimed them perfectly acceptable. Esca had tentatively nibbled at one of the small red fruits after scowling suspiciously at it and had then proceeded to devour almost an entire trees worth until his lips were stained red and he had complained of stomach pains for the rest of the day.
He had continued to gorge on the fruits whenever he could however and Marcus would frequently catch him, red-stained and sheepish.
It was hard work but they had a good life on their farm, he and Esca, and Marcus found that he was more than content to let things stay as they were; just the two of them, with occasional help hired when they needed it. There was time to sit back and enjoy the fruits of their labours these days; three yearlings already sold, another two on the way; the house and outbuildings mended, the crops growing steadily; alliances made with neighbours and local merchants.
And so it was that Marcus sat down in the shade of a tree one evening and watched Esca walk towards him, the basket in his hand hopefully containing some supper. Marcus was tired and hungry and he enjoyed the times they spent outdoors at the end of the day, leisurely eating and drinking while laughing over some local gossip that had reached their ears.
Esca sat next to him on the grass, producing wine, bread, olives and some of the cherries that grew on the trees behind the farmhouse.
“How are the horses?” Marcus asked, hungrily tearing a handful of bread from the loaf.
“Good,” Esca mumbled.
He still said little sometimes, seemingly content to let Marcus talk but this evening he seemed distracted. Marcus glanced over at him but Esca’s face was as inscrutable as ever.
They sat under the tree in an easy silence, eating their supper, Esca taking the lion’s share of the cherries as usual, and looked out over the land. Their land; tilled and sown and now steadily growing the harvest that would feed them and the horses come winter.
“We’ve done well, you and I,” Marcus said proudly, “The Gods have smiled upon us.”
Esca smiled and nodded his head slowly. For a moment Marcus thought he was going to remain silent but when he spoke it sounded carefully rehearsed, as if he had long been practising how best to ask his question.
“Will you still want me here once you have a family of your own?”
“What?” Marcus almost choked on the piece of bread he was eating. “Why would you ask such a thing?”
“It’s only that, now we are more established here, I expect you’ll start looking for a wife soon.”
“And why should I want you to leave?”
Esca shrugged and popped another cherry into his mouth, chewing thoughtfully and then spitting out the stone.
“I don’t want to get in the way. I thought perhaps that was why you’ve never really set your cap at anyone.”
“I’ve been too busy to think of such things.” Marcus turned his head to look back at the farmhouse, so that Esca would not be able to see in his eyes the truth of his reasons for being unmarried still. He had thought of finding a wife of course. It was expected of him. There were several daughters of Roman families in the area who were presentable and even the native women were olive-skinned and lively but Marcus had eyes for none of them. He was not the kind of man to marry for anything but love and he had long since accepted that his heart already belonged to another and always would.
“Besides,” he said, “who would breed the horses if you were gone? I know nothing of it and I am sure there is more to the whole thing than just pointing a stallion and a mare at each other.”
Esca nodded his head thoughtfully but seemed disinclined to steer away from the subject of family, as if he had some specific motive.
“What will you look for in your wife?” he asked.
Marcus took a deep breath and blew it out slowly.
“She would have to be someone who I can share everything with. I’ve no wish for a quiet mouse who sits it the corner and does nothing but look pretty.”
“No, I can’t imagine you with someone like that.”
“Patience, kindness, strength of will. Someone brave and honourable with a stout heart.”
“It’s a wife you’re choosing Marcus, not someone to stand next to you in battle.”
Marcus looked over at Esca and said the words before he could stop himself from speaking such nonsense.
“It is a pity I cannot marry you.”
Esca said nothing but continued to pop cherries into his mouth as if he hadn’t heard Marcus’ ridiculous statement. Finally, just as Marcus was about to apologise for his stupidity in case Esca had heard him after all, he spoke.
“I thought you wanted children.”
“What?”
“No point marrying me if you want children,” Esca replied, as if it were a perfectly normal thing for a freedman to say to his patron.
“No. I suppose not.” Marcus began to wonder if he had fallen asleep under the warm evening sun and this odd conversation was nothing but a dream. “You are a free man, Esca. You could have a family of your own.”
“I don’t think so.”
“Why not?”
Esca shifted, a strange look on his face.
“What need have I for a wife and children,” he said quietly, “when I have you.”
Marcus looked into the stormy grey-blue eyes that stared back at him as defiantly as ever and finally saw what he had failed to see before.
In all this time Marcus had never let his feelings show, he had been so deliberately careful. Over the years he had, on occasion, allowed himself to watch Esca, to admire the way in which his body moved with such grace and elegance. He had sometimes caught Esca watching him in return but Esca had never made mention of it and so neither had Marcus. It would not have been right. So he had ignored the first stirrings in his groin and then, some time later, the first stirrings of his heart.
But Esca was looking at him now in such a way that it left no room for doubt. There was want and desire and a devotion that Marcus knew was mirrored in his own eyes. He had looked into those eyes so many times before, how could he have missed the invitation contained in them?
Marcus had to look away for a moment to collect this thoughts and his eye was drawn to one last cherry lying forgotten on the grass. He picked it up by its stalk and held it out as if he were offering Esca something permanent; a contract perhaps, an understanding; but instead of taking it in his hand as Marcus expected, Esca leaned forward and took the fruit between his teeth, his eyes never leaving Marcus’ as he nibbled at the flesh until Marcus was left holding nothing but a stone on a stalk.
Without thinking further Marcus leaned in, pressing his lips against Esca’s, breathing in his scent and feeling the rasp of his stubble as Esca’s lips pressed back hard against his own. Esca tasted of wine and salt and sunshine but mostly cherries and Marcus knew that whenever he tasted cherries in the future it would always remind him of this moment, the true beginning of their life together.
For a while they simply lay there under the tree, hands and tongues gently exploring each other anew, glad that they worked their land alone and there were no farmhands around to consider as they slowly undressed each other.
Finally, spent and satisfied, they lay limbs entwined, murmuring words of endearment and watching the sun move lower in the sky until the light began to fade and a slight chill roused them to recover their clothing.
“So,” Esca said as they dressed. “No wife then.”
“No.” Marcus grinned at him. “No wife.”
“You are a Roman. It’s expected of you.”
“I care nothing for what others will think of me. I learned that lesson when we watched the eagle melt on Guern’s funeral pyre.”
“You won’t regret it?”
“I had always thought fondly of having a family of my own,” Marcus admitted, “but then, I had always thought to have a long and illustrious career in the army before I settled down. It appears that the Gods had a different path in mind for me all along and I shall have no regrets with my lot. Besides, some things are worth making a sacrifice for.”
Esca looked up at him.
“Such as?” he asked, a smile already playing around his mouth.
Marcus slung his arm around Esca’s shoulder as they made their way back towards the farmhouse and the chores that had to be done before bed.
“What need have I for a wife and children,” he said, placing a kiss on Esca’s cherry-stained lips, “when I have you.”