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a_belladonnaTitle: When In Rome
Rating: Mature/R
Fandom: The Eagle | The Eagle of the Ninth (2011)
Pairing: Marcus Flavius Aquila/Esca Mac Cunoval
Word count: 4686
Summary: "You really don't have to take such care of me. You're freed, I'm not expecting this of you,"
With Esca having been freed, Marcus would never ask, nor expect, Esca to continue looking after him. Esca respectfully (well, respectfully for him, at least) disagrees.
Esca, on the other hand, might need a guide of sorts in order to settle in a Roman world.
Author's notes: Written forbe_themoon for the 2024 Yuletide. Beta read by delphi
I began at the end of the movie and Marcus' question to Esca. And then I tried imagining what a Roman such as Marcus would like to do, safely back in the civilization. And then the question arose what could have happened during their trip back home to make them seem so close.
And bit by bit a story of the relationship between a Roman and a Briton, and Rome and Britain in general, took shape.
Can also be found on AO3 here
The version at AO3 is chaptered, but here in my journal it's just one long fic.
The first night back behind the wall, Marcus' leg hurt more than it had done for several days. He thought he'd managed to hide the grimace when he dismounted for the evening, but Esca must have noticed (of course he had).
"Let's take a look at your leg, then," Esca said, after they'd eaten and were preparing for sleep.
"That's really not necessary," Marcus protested. "I'm doing fine."
"No you're not," Esca cut him off, moving closer to him.
The evening air was chilly when Marcus pulled down his pants. They still felt alien, and part of him couldn't wait until they were back home and he could change into a tunic. On the other hand, he had to admit they kept the cold at bay rather effectively.
Esca's hands were warm and firm, and he relaxed a bit more against the boulder he was leaning against.
"You really don't have to take such care of me. You're freed. I'm not expecting this of you," Marcus said in an attempt to keep his mind off the dull pain in his leg.
Esca shot him a look. "Well, somebody has to look after you, because you're terrible at doing it yourself."
Marcus just stared into the fire, not really knowing how to reply and grit his teeth as Esca tended to his leg.
**
Several days further south, they found themselves in a small house owned by a Roman merchant who lived there with his British wife and children. Once the man had heard Marcus' accent he'd offered, no, insisted that they sleep in his bedroom for the night ("I think I can manage a night with the wife," he'd said with a wink to Marcus).
So here they were, in a small house that was a curious blend of Roman and local customs; it was clear the man had wanted a Roman house but that either his means or his wife's opinions had played a role in how the house ended up (or the weather, Marcus thought, as another shower of rain drummed against the roof).
The walls were plaster, but only kept in white with an ochre bottom. There had been an attempt at an atrium and a Roman floor plan, but the materials and overall look was decidedly more British. The bed looked like it had been imported, though, and both the oil lamps and the plates were as Roman as they came as well.
"So, you just take the bed, I'll figure something out on the floor," Esca began.
Marcus stared at him. "Come now. The bed is big enough for the two of us. You're not sleeping on the floor!"
Esca's gaze flickered between the bed and the floor. "I'm not really used to fancy Roman beds," he finally got out.
"Then I'd say it's about time you become familiar with them!" Marcus said, climbing in bed. "The floor is cold and hard, and there's still a long way to Londinium!"
Esca put out the lamp and made his way to the bed as well. Marcus barely noticed, though, as he relaxed into his first proper bed for months while sleep overtook him.
*
It was pitch black when he woke up. At first he felt confused, both at the location and at why he'd woken up. It wasn't because he needed to use the chamber pot, and he was neither cold nor hungry.
Right. He was in a house, in a proper bed. And the warm, solid shape next to him was Esca. And that whimper was also Esca.
Wait. Whimper?
Then he noticed, as he reached out towards him, how Esca's shoulders were hunched, not relaxed in sleep.
He took firm hold of his shoulder. "Wake up," he whispered, or thought he whispered. Had he been loud enough?
The whimper was mixed with a gasp, but Esca's shoulders relaxed somewhat. The mattress and blankets moved as Esca turned over on his side, and Marcus felt hot breath against his face. Was the shape of Esca a darker outline against the room as Marcus' eyes were adjusting to the darkness, or was he simply imagining it?
"A-are you all right?" he asked. It felt like he shouted it, here in the dead of the night.
Quiet. A shuddering breath. Exhale. "It was the little Seal-boy," Esca finally mumbled.
"Did you see him? In your dreams?" Marcus asked.
Movement as if Esca nodded. "Yes, I did," he then said.
Marcus felt a chill despite lying in a nice bed, with nice warm blankets and being safely beyond the wall. Restless spirits usually didn't care about man-made walls if they were out to get you.
"But we made sure to give him a proper burial, didn't we? Didn't you bury him according to your customs?" Marcus asked. Now he was the one to sound small and deflated.
Pause. "Oh, no, it's not like that!" Esca replied. "He's probably staying where we buried him. I just...I just relived what happened, I think."
A rustle, the movement of an arm moving out from under the blanket. What sounded like Esca rubbing his face.
"Why did he have to see us leave?"
Was that a sniffle? Marcus didn't know what to do with himself. Tears were...tears were unmanly. He'd shed tears himself over the years, but you were supposed to keep them somewhat to yourself. He reached out and awkwardly stroked Esca's shoulder, like you would do to calm a horse.
Esca moved again, and Marcus pulled his hand back, bracing himself in case Esca was about to lash out at him for touching him like that.
"I didn't think any of us would do such a thing to our own," Esca said, his voice shaking (trembling?). "I...I'd expect..."
Part of Marcus really wanted to go back to sleep, but another part of him was becoming wide awake now.
"You'd expect us to just kill little children with impunity..." he said.
He couldn't even feel angry about that accusation. He'd read about Julius Caesar's wars against the Gauls. And every other war against barbarian, uncivilised tribes beyond the Alps...and against the civilised, as well, like the Phoenicians. And the Samnite wars. Those who weren't killed were sold into slavery. His own family had some slaves whose ancestors could be traced back to Caesar's campaigns in Gaul.
He himself had killed a child, after all.
"But not your own. Not like that," Esca finished.
Marcus reached out again and tentatively stroked Esca's shoulder again. It seemed safe to do so, although rather unfamiliar. Intimacy of any kind had been filed away for a long time. Perhaps he ought to do something about that once they reached Londinium.
Esca shifted closer. Marcus could feel his breath in warm puffs across his face. Apparently he didn't mind having his shoulder caressed.
Then warm, slightly chapped, lips brushed against his own in the dark. Marcus froze. No! No, no, no! The hand had absolutely not been about that! The lips grew more insistant and he instinctively reacted by kissing back before he caught hold of himself.
"I-I didn't mean to..." he tried. His heart was racing. Yes, he was acutely aware that he had a lithe, young body pressed up against his own. And he was also aware that he probably had neglected certain needs for a long time. But it could wait, Esca didn't have to do this.
"Mean to what?" Esca asked, his breathing growing heavy. He was running one hand up and down Marcus' side, trying to pull him closer.
"Asking you to sleep in this bed...and, and touching your shoulder...I wasn't trying to...I wasn't expecting...you're freed, you don't have to do any of this, I can wait..." Marcus tried to explain.
"Yes, but I don't think I can wait," Esca replied while running his right hand down Marcus' hip towards his groin. "Because I want to, of my own volition."
Marcus wanted to reply, he really wanted to, but then Esca's hand reached his cock and gave it a few strokes, and Marcus' brain turned into mush.Esca's tongue against his own, of the feeling of the warm body flush against his own and the hand working his cock.
His right arm was trapped underneath Esca, but at least he could pull Esca closer using his left hand, and Esca eagerly complied.
There was nothing refined, nothing gentle about this. Esca had hooked his right leg around Marcus' side and they were both desperately grinding against each other, seeking friction, seeking release.
It didn't take long before Marcus came, and Esca soon followed.
They lay there for a little while, catching their breath, their bellies brushing against each other with each breath. Marcus could feel the come on his belly cooling down.
"We...we probably should do something about this," he tried. Esca was halfway straddling him and Marcus tried to move out from underneath him.
"You're right," Esca finally mumbled and finally moved off Marcus. The air was chilly with both the blanket and Esca removed from Marcus, and he shivered.
He could hear Esca rummage around, and after what felt like forever he finally returned with a cloth (Marcus decided that if it was his own tunic, he'd have to deal with that in the morning.)
Soon they both were asleep.
***
"So, what do you want to do now?" Marcus asked.
Esca looked around at the bustling city. Then he looked a bit sheepish. "Um, actually...I'm a bit hungry," he finally said.
"No shame in that! I could use a bite to eat as well. Let's go find some food," Marcus replied.
A little while later they were seated in a thermopolium, each with a plate of lentils and chickpeas, bread and a cup of wine.
"Let's dig in," Marcus said, as he tore a piece off his flatbread.
He couldn't help but close his eyes for a moment when the taste of familiar, warm food filled his mouth. The seasoning, the texture, everything. And washing it down with wine mixed with water – the acidity of the wine lifting it all just a notch.
He felt increasingly like himself with every bite of food.
Soon their plates were cleared and they were both just trying to mop up the last drops of sauce with the last pieces of bread.
"I guess it was good we ordered extra bread," Marcus said, sweeping up the very last of the sauce with a piece of onion in it with a practised motion. "But now what?"
Esca shrugged, still busy chewing.
"A visit to the baths would be nice. I hear there should be some nice ones here," Marcus suggested. Every last inch of him was longing for a proper bath. To scrape off the dirt, to feel his muscles relax in the heat, to get a shave and perhaps even a massage. It definitely felt like some parts of him needed rearranging after all those days on a horseback.
Esca had finished chewing and was fidgeting with his cup a bit.
"There's a lot of people here," he finally said. "I feel like I've definitely seen enough of Londinium for the time being," he added.
Marcus looked out at the bustling street. You could hear vendors calling out, and the murmur of voices. Inside the thermopolium two men were playing dice, and above them the ceiling creaked as someone walked across the room that was on top of the thermopolium.
Compared to the countryside and the wilderness north of the wall, there was indeed people all over the place here, and even though Marcus had kept hoping he would experience life in a typical Roman city again...he too felt it rather overwhelming all of a sudden.
"You're right," he said. "Let's rather get back to my uncle and his villa. He also has a bath, no need to spend time and money on that here."
***
A couple of days later they finally approached Uncle Aquila's villa. It was late in the day but not yet evening.
"Hang in there," Marcus said, petting his horse on the neck. The last leg of the journey had been the slowest by far, as their horses were definitely exhausted by now.
"Are you longing to get out of the saddle?" Esca asked teasingly.
"I'd be lying if I said no," Marcus replied. "I feel I've been riding enough for the rest of the year."
"You're doing well for a Roman, though," Esca replied, adjusting his cloak.
Uncle Aquila was standing in the courtyard when they rode in. For a moment Marcus felt strangely apprehensive.
"So you succeeded," his uncle said. "Good news travel fast, but hearing it from you is still special."
"Yes, we did," Marcus replied after he'd dismounted. He suddenly felt completely exhausted, as if standing here in his uncle's courtyard meant he didn't have to be alert or on his toes anymore.
"We found the eagle, and...and," he trailed off, extending the hand with his father's ring on one finger.
The look of pride on his uncle's face mixed with a flash of sorrow.
"Well done," was all he could say.
"And I've freed Esca," Marcus continued.
His uncle arched an eyebrow, but didn't say anything.
"Would it be possible for us to bathe before dinner?" Marcus continued. "A proper bath is the one thing that has been on my mind the last week or so."
It wasn't entirely true. The feeling of Esca's body pressed against his own, their cocks rubbing against each other, and hearing Esca gasp and moan had also played rather prominent roles in Marcus' mind lately, but he'd rather face an entire legion of Seal People alone than disclose such a thing to his uncle.
Especially with Esca being freed. Had Esca still been a slave, no-one would have batted an eye at Marcus also using him for that.
But that it only happened after Esca's manumission was a bit uncommon.
"Of course, of course! Just take your time – the kitchen will also have to prepare some extra food now," Uncle Aquila replied.
*
Soon Marcus and Esca were in the baths, undressing and covering themselves in oil.
"I'm not sure I completely understand what this is about," Esca said as he rubbed a handful of oil on one arm. "First you cover yourself in oil. And then you scrape it off. And then you claim you're clean."
"That's just how we've always done it," Marcus replied. "If it didn't work, why would we keep doing it?"
They entered the first room and sat down on their towels. This room was not hot, yet warmer than any room they'd been inside for a while.
"What are we supposed to do here?" Esca asked.
"Just, you know, get used to the heat," Marcus replied. "If we went straight to the caldarium, it would be really uncomfortable. So we're just going to sit here for a little while."
Esca narrowed his eyes. "Uncomfortable? How? And how can you be so calm about it?"
Marcus managed to suppress a laugh. "Because the next room is warmer," he said, as neutrally as possible.
"What do you mean 'warmer'?" Esca asked apprehensively as they entered the room.
One of Uncle Aquila's slaves was waiting for them there, holding a strigil.
"Is it now that we get scraped?" Esca asked.
"Soon, but first we're just going to sit here and let the heat do its work," Marcus replied as they sat down on their towels.
He sighed as he felt the warm air envelop him, and he leant his head back at the wall. He could feel sweat trickle down his skin, mixed with the oil, and how his muscles gradually relaxed. Oh, but this was just the best sensation!
He could feel the cold, the dirt, the tension leaving him and despite the heat took a deep breath.
After a while he opened his eyes and looked at Esca. He seemed a little less content. His hair was plastered to his skull and he was fidgeting in his seat.
"Don't you like it?" Marcus asked.
Esca grimaced. "It's...it's...very warm. I feel sticky. It's weird, this. Will we be done soon?"
Marcus could easily have sat there for longer, but instead he got to his feet. "You're right. We can't sit here all evening. Let's get scraped, into the bath and then finish off."
The slave came up to them.
"You go first," Marcus indicated to Esca. "Just stick you arm out, then he'll take care of the oil."
As the slave scraped the oil off of Esca's skin, Marcus couldn't help but ask. "Is this really your first time taking a proper bath? What did you do before?"
Esca shrugged. "I just took some water and rinsed off. Sometimes it was warm from the kitchen. But this seems...I don't know. It's so...elaborate."
"Then you should see the big baths in the cities," Marcus said as the slave went to scrape him. "They have libraries and gyms and vendors and what have you. This is really small and intimate in comparison."
"I'm glad we skipped visiting the baths in Londinium, then," Esca replied.
They went over to the pool and lowered themselves into the warm water. Marcus rolled his shoulders a couple of times more. He could feel how his body relaxed further, and he gave a content sigh.
He glanced at Esca. He seemed more at ease in the water and like he was slowly beginning to enjoy himself.
"Is this better?" Marcus asked.
Esca nodded while lowering himself so far down only his head was above water. "I'm more used to water," he replied. "Do you not feel like a piece of meat being roasted, sitting in that heat?"
Marcus shrugged. "I don't know, perhaps it's just because I'm used to this custom. But I remember my first visits to the baths when I was younger. The heat was a bit overwhelming then."
He got to his feet. "But now we just need one last room, and then we're done."
"What will happen there?" Esca asked as they went towards the door. "Will we be boiled there?"
"Just wait and see," Marcus replied, opening the door.
The final room was noticeably cool, and even Esca shivered when they entered it.
"That...that was a bit of change!" he exclaimed.
"Exactly. A bit of coldness to get the blood rolling," Marcus replied. "And we're supposed to be getting into that pool there." He nodded towards a pool built into the floor.
The water wasn't icy, but it was definitely cool. He could feel how it made his skin prickle and his breath shorter, yet he forced himself to stay submerged a little longer than usual.
Then he got out of the water and went towards the towel the slave was handing him. As he dried off he could feel a wonderful rush of heat coursing through his body.
"This is almost the best part of the bath," he told Esca, who had also come out of the pool and was towelling off as well.
"You're crazy, you Romans," Esca replied, but it sounded almost affectionate.
*
After a good rubbing down with a lightly scented oil and putting on nice fresh clothes that had been laid out for both of them, it was time for dinner.
The food was as delicious as ever, and while they ate, they also recounted to Uncle Aquila the search for the eagle.
***
After the meal, they made their way to Marcus' room. Esca insisted on escorting him, even though both Marcus and his uncle had tried telling him that it wasn't his job anymore, now that he was freed. But Esca hadn't budged and in the end Marcus had managed to persuade his uncle to let it slide now and try finding a room for him tomorrow instead.
"It's really not your job anymore," Marcus tried again as Esca kneeled in front of him and helped him remove his sandals. He'd already helped him out of the toga, despite Marcus' protests.
"And you don't seem to remember what I said about you and your ability to look after yourself," Esca replied, but didn't sound upset. "And until you get another slave, are you just going to sleep wearing your sandals?"
Esca was still kneeling between his legs, looking up at Marcus. He ran his hands up Marcus' legs and Marcus had to look away. This didn't feel quite appropriate.
Then Esca got to his feet and turned away to undress. Marcus seized the opportunity to finish undressing and climb under the covers.
Having finished undressing, Esca turned around and made his way over to Marcus' bed. The memory of the other night came back, mixed with the memory of first seeing Esca in the arena, a pale, sinewy body and a defiant glare.
"Oh, the floor's warm!" Esca exclaimed. "Just like in the baths! How come?"
"Uh, that's just the hypocaust," Marcus replied. "It keeps the floor, and thus the room, heated. I'm afraid it'll make me soft, but on the other hand it can be a bit chilly around here."
Esca narrowed his eyes. "Hypocaust?"
"There's hot air circulating underneath the flooring," Marcus replied. Lying here in his familiar bed, after a nice warm meal and his first proper bath for several months made him drowsy, and he fought a yawn.
"Are you just going to stand here all night, or would you rather get into bed?" he finished before he could stop himself.
Esca smirked and slipped under the covers with him. He didn't extinguish the final lamp though.
"What about the lamp? Didn't you forget that?" Marcus asked.
"Did I? I don't think I did," Esca replied, sliding closer to Marcus.
Marcus swallowed. It wasn't as if he objected to sharing his bed with another man. And the gods knew he was yearning for a good, proper lay. But he didn't want to use Esca for that. Other Romans might not care about whether a Briton was freed or a slave but insist upon their right to their bodies no matter what. But he would like to be a bit better than that.
But Esca didn't seem to mind the intimacy. Not if the way he was caressing Marcus' arm, shoulder and jaw was any indication. Or how he pulled him into a kiss.
And if that was the case, Marcus would be kind of rude to rebuke him, wouldn't he?
He rolled onto his back, pulling Esca with him. They were kissing deeply, hungrily, and he could feel how quickly Esca grew hard against him. Soon Esca was kissing a trail down his torso and moving towards his cock. As his mouth neared Marcus' cock, Marcus managed to stop him.
"Why are you doing this? You don't have to," Marcus panted. His cock was throbbing. It wouldn't mind a warm, eager mouth, but Marcus felt he had to be in control of his cock, not the other way around.
"But what if I want to?" Esca replied from between Marcus' thighs.
"But why? It's...it's demeaning...uh, and...unmanly," Marcus replied.
Esca sighed. "You Romans. Thinking that the rest of the world works like you do. What if I told you that it's not uncommon for men among us to do this? That it's encouraged as a way for warriors to bond?"
Marcus' cock throbbed. "You...you mean you've done this before? V-voluntarily?"
He didn't know what to make of that information. It sounded so foreign his mind was reeling.
"Yes, and yes," Esca replied while caressing Marcus' cock. And then without further ado he took it in his mouth and Marcus lost all ability to speak. He let his head fall back against the pillow and moaned as he felt his cock engulfed in a warm, wet mouth.
When the mouth disappeared, only to start nibbling at his balls, his moans turned to a whimper and when it returned to his cock it didn't take long before he came.
Esca's face appeared next to his own, and for a second or two Marcus struggled to speak.
"Thank you," Marcus finally got out, still a bit short of breath.
"Anytime," Esca replied. He was hovering a bit above Marcus, but looking at him with kindness, not contempt.
Marcus could feel Esca's cock brush against his thigh, still half-hard.
"Sorry, I'm not sure...that I can reciprocate fully," he said. "But come here."
And with that he pulled Esca down and shifted so that they were lying side by side. He ran his hand down Esca's side, towards his hip, his groin, his cock and began caressing it, teasing it back to full hardness.
He was well and truly spent, but feeling Esca's cock in his hand, the weight and warmth of it, was still rather nice. He started stroking the cock slowly, but then picked up speed as Esca's moans grew in intensity and he started rolling his hips. It also didn't take long before Esca came.
"Wait here," Marcus said and got out of bed. His legs still felt wobbly, but he managed to find a handkerchief and returned to bed while wiping his own hand.
Crawling back into bed he wiped down Esca's belly.
They settled under the covers and extinguished the last lamp. They were both soon fast asleep.
***
One day in early Ianuarius, when the air was crisp and clear, a messenger arrived with the news that Claudius and Placidus would be visiting Uncle Aquila and that they brought important and exciting news.
The best togas were brushed and hung out in the cold weather for good measure and a dinner was prepared.
"Am I expected to attend this?" Esca asked.
"They probably don't expect you to be here," Marcus replied. "But I'd like you to be there. I need some moral support."
Esca smirked. "Or you just want to annoy that little fop."
Marcus suppressed a grin. "Those were your words, not mine."
*
The dinner went as formal dinners go, though it pleased Marcus to see the two Romans do a double-take when Esca also attended the event.
"So, after long and careful deliberations, it's finally been decided to reinstate the Legio IX," Claudius said. "And I wanted to give you a heads up on that...so we could begin lobbying for you in case you wanted to play a role in it. It would only seem natural to have you there."
"But...with my leg, my injury..." Marcus objected.
"Ah, well, I have been taking that into consideration as well. Your position won't be at the forefront, but you will be given leadership. However, it's been decided it should be transferred to Noviomagus, in order to give it a fresh start away from the past events here," Claudius continued.
"So, what do you say?" he finished, looking expectantly at Marcus.
Marcus took a deep breath. He could feel his pulse pick up. He looked around at the triclinium, catching a glimpse of the snow-covered garden as a slave entered the room with a tray with dried fruit. He thought of the snow-covered fields and trees and the little native huts huddled together. The breathtaking wilderness he'd encountered beyond the wall, and his impressions of Britain when he first arrived.
He thought of Esca lying next to him in the evening. He thought of the merchant living with his British wife and Roman children in his house that was a mix of Rome and Britain. He thought of his father's remains up north.
"I'm afraid I wasn't made for being an armchair strategist," Marcus began. "And my leg will never regain full mobility and strength."
It wasn't a lie. In cold weather such as this, it was especially stiff and sore.
"So while I feel greatly honoured that you wish to lobby for my position there, I'm afraid I respectfully will have to decline. All signs point towards my work for Rome taking place here."
The ring on his finger glinted in the light from the lamps.
Rating: Mature/R
Fandom: The Eagle | The Eagle of the Ninth (2011)
Pairing: Marcus Flavius Aquila/Esca Mac Cunoval
Word count: 4686
Summary: "You really don't have to take such care of me. You're freed, I'm not expecting this of you,"
With Esca having been freed, Marcus would never ask, nor expect, Esca to continue looking after him. Esca respectfully (well, respectfully for him, at least) disagrees.
Esca, on the other hand, might need a guide of sorts in order to settle in a Roman world.
Author's notes: Written for
be_themoon for the 2024 Yuletide. Beta read by delphiI began at the end of the movie and Marcus' question to Esca. And then I tried imagining what a Roman such as Marcus would like to do, safely back in the civilization. And then the question arose what could have happened during their trip back home to make them seem so close.
And bit by bit a story of the relationship between a Roman and a Briton, and Rome and Britain in general, took shape.
Can also be found on AO3 here
The version at AO3 is chaptered, but here in my journal it's just one long fic.
The first night back behind the wall, Marcus' leg hurt more than it had done for several days. He thought he'd managed to hide the grimace when he dismounted for the evening, but Esca must have noticed (of course he had).
"Let's take a look at your leg, then," Esca said, after they'd eaten and were preparing for sleep.
"That's really not necessary," Marcus protested. "I'm doing fine."
"No you're not," Esca cut him off, moving closer to him.
The evening air was chilly when Marcus pulled down his pants. They still felt alien, and part of him couldn't wait until they were back home and he could change into a tunic. On the other hand, he had to admit they kept the cold at bay rather effectively.
Esca's hands were warm and firm, and he relaxed a bit more against the boulder he was leaning against.
"You really don't have to take such care of me. You're freed. I'm not expecting this of you," Marcus said in an attempt to keep his mind off the dull pain in his leg.
Esca shot him a look. "Well, somebody has to look after you, because you're terrible at doing it yourself."
Marcus just stared into the fire, not really knowing how to reply and grit his teeth as Esca tended to his leg.
Several days further south, they found themselves in a small house owned by a Roman merchant who lived there with his British wife and children. Once the man had heard Marcus' accent he'd offered, no, insisted that they sleep in his bedroom for the night ("I think I can manage a night with the wife," he'd said with a wink to Marcus).
So here they were, in a small house that was a curious blend of Roman and local customs; it was clear the man had wanted a Roman house but that either his means or his wife's opinions had played a role in how the house ended up (or the weather, Marcus thought, as another shower of rain drummed against the roof).
The walls were plaster, but only kept in white with an ochre bottom. There had been an attempt at an atrium and a Roman floor plan, but the materials and overall look was decidedly more British. The bed looked like it had been imported, though, and both the oil lamps and the plates were as Roman as they came as well.
"So, you just take the bed, I'll figure something out on the floor," Esca began.
Marcus stared at him. "Come now. The bed is big enough for the two of us. You're not sleeping on the floor!"
Esca's gaze flickered between the bed and the floor. "I'm not really used to fancy Roman beds," he finally got out.
"Then I'd say it's about time you become familiar with them!" Marcus said, climbing in bed. "The floor is cold and hard, and there's still a long way to Londinium!"
Esca put out the lamp and made his way to the bed as well. Marcus barely noticed, though, as he relaxed into his first proper bed for months while sleep overtook him.
It was pitch black when he woke up. At first he felt confused, both at the location and at why he'd woken up. It wasn't because he needed to use the chamber pot, and he was neither cold nor hungry.
Right. He was in a house, in a proper bed. And the warm, solid shape next to him was Esca. And that whimper was also Esca.
Wait. Whimper?
Then he noticed, as he reached out towards him, how Esca's shoulders were hunched, not relaxed in sleep.
He took firm hold of his shoulder. "Wake up," he whispered, or thought he whispered. Had he been loud enough?
The whimper was mixed with a gasp, but Esca's shoulders relaxed somewhat. The mattress and blankets moved as Esca turned over on his side, and Marcus felt hot breath against his face. Was the shape of Esca a darker outline against the room as Marcus' eyes were adjusting to the darkness, or was he simply imagining it?
"A-are you all right?" he asked. It felt like he shouted it, here in the dead of the night.
Quiet. A shuddering breath. Exhale. "It was the little Seal-boy," Esca finally mumbled.
"Did you see him? In your dreams?" Marcus asked.
Movement as if Esca nodded. "Yes, I did," he then said.
Marcus felt a chill despite lying in a nice bed, with nice warm blankets and being safely beyond the wall. Restless spirits usually didn't care about man-made walls if they were out to get you.
"But we made sure to give him a proper burial, didn't we? Didn't you bury him according to your customs?" Marcus asked. Now he was the one to sound small and deflated.
Pause. "Oh, no, it's not like that!" Esca replied. "He's probably staying where we buried him. I just...I just relived what happened, I think."
A rustle, the movement of an arm moving out from under the blanket. What sounded like Esca rubbing his face.
"Why did he have to see us leave?"
Was that a sniffle? Marcus didn't know what to do with himself. Tears were...tears were unmanly. He'd shed tears himself over the years, but you were supposed to keep them somewhat to yourself. He reached out and awkwardly stroked Esca's shoulder, like you would do to calm a horse.
Esca moved again, and Marcus pulled his hand back, bracing himself in case Esca was about to lash out at him for touching him like that.
"I didn't think any of us would do such a thing to our own," Esca said, his voice shaking (trembling?). "I...I'd expect..."
Part of Marcus really wanted to go back to sleep, but another part of him was becoming wide awake now.
"You'd expect us to just kill little children with impunity..." he said.
He couldn't even feel angry about that accusation. He'd read about Julius Caesar's wars against the Gauls. And every other war against barbarian, uncivilised tribes beyond the Alps...and against the civilised, as well, like the Phoenicians. And the Samnite wars. Those who weren't killed were sold into slavery. His own family had some slaves whose ancestors could be traced back to Caesar's campaigns in Gaul.
He himself had killed a child, after all.
"But not your own. Not like that," Esca finished.
Marcus reached out again and tentatively stroked Esca's shoulder again. It seemed safe to do so, although rather unfamiliar. Intimacy of any kind had been filed away for a long time. Perhaps he ought to do something about that once they reached Londinium.
Esca shifted closer. Marcus could feel his breath in warm puffs across his face. Apparently he didn't mind having his shoulder caressed.
Then warm, slightly chapped, lips brushed against his own in the dark. Marcus froze. No! No, no, no! The hand had absolutely not been about that! The lips grew more insistant and he instinctively reacted by kissing back before he caught hold of himself.
"I-I didn't mean to..." he tried. His heart was racing. Yes, he was acutely aware that he had a lithe, young body pressed up against his own. And he was also aware that he probably had neglected certain needs for a long time. But it could wait, Esca didn't have to do this.
"Mean to what?" Esca asked, his breathing growing heavy. He was running one hand up and down Marcus' side, trying to pull him closer.
"Asking you to sleep in this bed...and, and touching your shoulder...I wasn't trying to...I wasn't expecting...you're freed, you don't have to do any of this, I can wait..." Marcus tried to explain.
"Yes, but I don't think I can wait," Esca replied while running his right hand down Marcus' hip towards his groin. "Because I want to, of my own volition."
Marcus wanted to reply, he really wanted to, but then Esca's hand reached his cock and gave it a few strokes, and Marcus' brain turned into mush.Esca's tongue against his own, of the feeling of the warm body flush against his own and the hand working his cock.
His right arm was trapped underneath Esca, but at least he could pull Esca closer using his left hand, and Esca eagerly complied.
There was nothing refined, nothing gentle about this. Esca had hooked his right leg around Marcus' side and they were both desperately grinding against each other, seeking friction, seeking release.
It didn't take long before Marcus came, and Esca soon followed.
They lay there for a little while, catching their breath, their bellies brushing against each other with each breath. Marcus could feel the come on his belly cooling down.
"We...we probably should do something about this," he tried. Esca was halfway straddling him and Marcus tried to move out from underneath him.
"You're right," Esca finally mumbled and finally moved off Marcus. The air was chilly with both the blanket and Esca removed from Marcus, and he shivered.
He could hear Esca rummage around, and after what felt like forever he finally returned with a cloth (Marcus decided that if it was his own tunic, he'd have to deal with that in the morning.)
Soon they both were asleep.
"So, what do you want to do now?" Marcus asked.
Esca looked around at the bustling city. Then he looked a bit sheepish. "Um, actually...I'm a bit hungry," he finally said.
"No shame in that! I could use a bite to eat as well. Let's go find some food," Marcus replied.
A little while later they were seated in a thermopolium, each with a plate of lentils and chickpeas, bread and a cup of wine.
"Let's dig in," Marcus said, as he tore a piece off his flatbread.
He couldn't help but close his eyes for a moment when the taste of familiar, warm food filled his mouth. The seasoning, the texture, everything. And washing it down with wine mixed with water – the acidity of the wine lifting it all just a notch.
He felt increasingly like himself with every bite of food.
Soon their plates were cleared and they were both just trying to mop up the last drops of sauce with the last pieces of bread.
"I guess it was good we ordered extra bread," Marcus said, sweeping up the very last of the sauce with a piece of onion in it with a practised motion. "But now what?"
Esca shrugged, still busy chewing.
"A visit to the baths would be nice. I hear there should be some nice ones here," Marcus suggested. Every last inch of him was longing for a proper bath. To scrape off the dirt, to feel his muscles relax in the heat, to get a shave and perhaps even a massage. It definitely felt like some parts of him needed rearranging after all those days on a horseback.
Esca had finished chewing and was fidgeting with his cup a bit.
"There's a lot of people here," he finally said. "I feel like I've definitely seen enough of Londinium for the time being," he added.
Marcus looked out at the bustling street. You could hear vendors calling out, and the murmur of voices. Inside the thermopolium two men were playing dice, and above them the ceiling creaked as someone walked across the room that was on top of the thermopolium.
Compared to the countryside and the wilderness north of the wall, there was indeed people all over the place here, and even though Marcus had kept hoping he would experience life in a typical Roman city again...he too felt it rather overwhelming all of a sudden.
"You're right," he said. "Let's rather get back to my uncle and his villa. He also has a bath, no need to spend time and money on that here."
A couple of days later they finally approached Uncle Aquila's villa. It was late in the day but not yet evening.
"Hang in there," Marcus said, petting his horse on the neck. The last leg of the journey had been the slowest by far, as their horses were definitely exhausted by now.
"Are you longing to get out of the saddle?" Esca asked teasingly.
"I'd be lying if I said no," Marcus replied. "I feel I've been riding enough for the rest of the year."
"You're doing well for a Roman, though," Esca replied, adjusting his cloak.
Uncle Aquila was standing in the courtyard when they rode in. For a moment Marcus felt strangely apprehensive.
"So you succeeded," his uncle said. "Good news travel fast, but hearing it from you is still special."
"Yes, we did," Marcus replied after he'd dismounted. He suddenly felt completely exhausted, as if standing here in his uncle's courtyard meant he didn't have to be alert or on his toes anymore.
"We found the eagle, and...and," he trailed off, extending the hand with his father's ring on one finger.
The look of pride on his uncle's face mixed with a flash of sorrow.
"Well done," was all he could say.
"And I've freed Esca," Marcus continued.
His uncle arched an eyebrow, but didn't say anything.
"Would it be possible for us to bathe before dinner?" Marcus continued. "A proper bath is the one thing that has been on my mind the last week or so."
It wasn't entirely true. The feeling of Esca's body pressed against his own, their cocks rubbing against each other, and hearing Esca gasp and moan had also played rather prominent roles in Marcus' mind lately, but he'd rather face an entire legion of Seal People alone than disclose such a thing to his uncle.
Especially with Esca being freed. Had Esca still been a slave, no-one would have batted an eye at Marcus also using him for that.
But that it only happened after Esca's manumission was a bit uncommon.
"Of course, of course! Just take your time – the kitchen will also have to prepare some extra food now," Uncle Aquila replied.
Soon Marcus and Esca were in the baths, undressing and covering themselves in oil.
"I'm not sure I completely understand what this is about," Esca said as he rubbed a handful of oil on one arm. "First you cover yourself in oil. And then you scrape it off. And then you claim you're clean."
"That's just how we've always done it," Marcus replied. "If it didn't work, why would we keep doing it?"
They entered the first room and sat down on their towels. This room was not hot, yet warmer than any room they'd been inside for a while.
"What are we supposed to do here?" Esca asked.
"Just, you know, get used to the heat," Marcus replied. "If we went straight to the caldarium, it would be really uncomfortable. So we're just going to sit here for a little while."
Esca narrowed his eyes. "Uncomfortable? How? And how can you be so calm about it?"
Marcus managed to suppress a laugh. "Because the next room is warmer," he said, as neutrally as possible.
"What do you mean 'warmer'?" Esca asked apprehensively as they entered the room.
One of Uncle Aquila's slaves was waiting for them there, holding a strigil.
"Is it now that we get scraped?" Esca asked.
"Soon, but first we're just going to sit here and let the heat do its work," Marcus replied as they sat down on their towels.
He sighed as he felt the warm air envelop him, and he leant his head back at the wall. He could feel sweat trickle down his skin, mixed with the oil, and how his muscles gradually relaxed. Oh, but this was just the best sensation!
He could feel the cold, the dirt, the tension leaving him and despite the heat took a deep breath.
After a while he opened his eyes and looked at Esca. He seemed a little less content. His hair was plastered to his skull and he was fidgeting in his seat.
"Don't you like it?" Marcus asked.
Esca grimaced. "It's...it's...very warm. I feel sticky. It's weird, this. Will we be done soon?"
Marcus could easily have sat there for longer, but instead he got to his feet. "You're right. We can't sit here all evening. Let's get scraped, into the bath and then finish off."
The slave came up to them.
"You go first," Marcus indicated to Esca. "Just stick you arm out, then he'll take care of the oil."
As the slave scraped the oil off of Esca's skin, Marcus couldn't help but ask. "Is this really your first time taking a proper bath? What did you do before?"
Esca shrugged. "I just took some water and rinsed off. Sometimes it was warm from the kitchen. But this seems...I don't know. It's so...elaborate."
"Then you should see the big baths in the cities," Marcus said as the slave went to scrape him. "They have libraries and gyms and vendors and what have you. This is really small and intimate in comparison."
"I'm glad we skipped visiting the baths in Londinium, then," Esca replied.
They went over to the pool and lowered themselves into the warm water. Marcus rolled his shoulders a couple of times more. He could feel how his body relaxed further, and he gave a content sigh.
He glanced at Esca. He seemed more at ease in the water and like he was slowly beginning to enjoy himself.
"Is this better?" Marcus asked.
Esca nodded while lowering himself so far down only his head was above water. "I'm more used to water," he replied. "Do you not feel like a piece of meat being roasted, sitting in that heat?"
Marcus shrugged. "I don't know, perhaps it's just because I'm used to this custom. But I remember my first visits to the baths when I was younger. The heat was a bit overwhelming then."
He got to his feet. "But now we just need one last room, and then we're done."
"What will happen there?" Esca asked as they went towards the door. "Will we be boiled there?"
"Just wait and see," Marcus replied, opening the door.
The final room was noticeably cool, and even Esca shivered when they entered it.
"That...that was a bit of change!" he exclaimed.
"Exactly. A bit of coldness to get the blood rolling," Marcus replied. "And we're supposed to be getting into that pool there." He nodded towards a pool built into the floor.
The water wasn't icy, but it was definitely cool. He could feel how it made his skin prickle and his breath shorter, yet he forced himself to stay submerged a little longer than usual.
Then he got out of the water and went towards the towel the slave was handing him. As he dried off he could feel a wonderful rush of heat coursing through his body.
"This is almost the best part of the bath," he told Esca, who had also come out of the pool and was towelling off as well.
"You're crazy, you Romans," Esca replied, but it sounded almost affectionate.
After a good rubbing down with a lightly scented oil and putting on nice fresh clothes that had been laid out for both of them, it was time for dinner.
The food was as delicious as ever, and while they ate, they also recounted to Uncle Aquila the search for the eagle.
After the meal, they made their way to Marcus' room. Esca insisted on escorting him, even though both Marcus and his uncle had tried telling him that it wasn't his job anymore, now that he was freed. But Esca hadn't budged and in the end Marcus had managed to persuade his uncle to let it slide now and try finding a room for him tomorrow instead.
"It's really not your job anymore," Marcus tried again as Esca kneeled in front of him and helped him remove his sandals. He'd already helped him out of the toga, despite Marcus' protests.
"And you don't seem to remember what I said about you and your ability to look after yourself," Esca replied, but didn't sound upset. "And until you get another slave, are you just going to sleep wearing your sandals?"
Esca was still kneeling between his legs, looking up at Marcus. He ran his hands up Marcus' legs and Marcus had to look away. This didn't feel quite appropriate.
Then Esca got to his feet and turned away to undress. Marcus seized the opportunity to finish undressing and climb under the covers.
Having finished undressing, Esca turned around and made his way over to Marcus' bed. The memory of the other night came back, mixed with the memory of first seeing Esca in the arena, a pale, sinewy body and a defiant glare.
"Oh, the floor's warm!" Esca exclaimed. "Just like in the baths! How come?"
"Uh, that's just the hypocaust," Marcus replied. "It keeps the floor, and thus the room, heated. I'm afraid it'll make me soft, but on the other hand it can be a bit chilly around here."
Esca narrowed his eyes. "Hypocaust?"
"There's hot air circulating underneath the flooring," Marcus replied. Lying here in his familiar bed, after a nice warm meal and his first proper bath for several months made him drowsy, and he fought a yawn.
"Are you just going to stand here all night, or would you rather get into bed?" he finished before he could stop himself.
Esca smirked and slipped under the covers with him. He didn't extinguish the final lamp though.
"What about the lamp? Didn't you forget that?" Marcus asked.
"Did I? I don't think I did," Esca replied, sliding closer to Marcus.
Marcus swallowed. It wasn't as if he objected to sharing his bed with another man. And the gods knew he was yearning for a good, proper lay. But he didn't want to use Esca for that. Other Romans might not care about whether a Briton was freed or a slave but insist upon their right to their bodies no matter what. But he would like to be a bit better than that.
But Esca didn't seem to mind the intimacy. Not if the way he was caressing Marcus' arm, shoulder and jaw was any indication. Or how he pulled him into a kiss.
And if that was the case, Marcus would be kind of rude to rebuke him, wouldn't he?
He rolled onto his back, pulling Esca with him. They were kissing deeply, hungrily, and he could feel how quickly Esca grew hard against him. Soon Esca was kissing a trail down his torso and moving towards his cock. As his mouth neared Marcus' cock, Marcus managed to stop him.
"Why are you doing this? You don't have to," Marcus panted. His cock was throbbing. It wouldn't mind a warm, eager mouth, but Marcus felt he had to be in control of his cock, not the other way around.
"But what if I want to?" Esca replied from between Marcus' thighs.
"But why? It's...it's demeaning...uh, and...unmanly," Marcus replied.
Esca sighed. "You Romans. Thinking that the rest of the world works like you do. What if I told you that it's not uncommon for men among us to do this? That it's encouraged as a way for warriors to bond?"
Marcus' cock throbbed. "You...you mean you've done this before? V-voluntarily?"
He didn't know what to make of that information. It sounded so foreign his mind was reeling.
"Yes, and yes," Esca replied while caressing Marcus' cock. And then without further ado he took it in his mouth and Marcus lost all ability to speak. He let his head fall back against the pillow and moaned as he felt his cock engulfed in a warm, wet mouth.
When the mouth disappeared, only to start nibbling at his balls, his moans turned to a whimper and when it returned to his cock it didn't take long before he came.
Esca's face appeared next to his own, and for a second or two Marcus struggled to speak.
"Thank you," Marcus finally got out, still a bit short of breath.
"Anytime," Esca replied. He was hovering a bit above Marcus, but looking at him with kindness, not contempt.
Marcus could feel Esca's cock brush against his thigh, still half-hard.
"Sorry, I'm not sure...that I can reciprocate fully," he said. "But come here."
And with that he pulled Esca down and shifted so that they were lying side by side. He ran his hand down Esca's side, towards his hip, his groin, his cock and began caressing it, teasing it back to full hardness.
He was well and truly spent, but feeling Esca's cock in his hand, the weight and warmth of it, was still rather nice. He started stroking the cock slowly, but then picked up speed as Esca's moans grew in intensity and he started rolling his hips. It also didn't take long before Esca came.
"Wait here," Marcus said and got out of bed. His legs still felt wobbly, but he managed to find a handkerchief and returned to bed while wiping his own hand.
Crawling back into bed he wiped down Esca's belly.
They settled under the covers and extinguished the last lamp. They were both soon fast asleep.
One day in early Ianuarius, when the air was crisp and clear, a messenger arrived with the news that Claudius and Placidus would be visiting Uncle Aquila and that they brought important and exciting news.
The best togas were brushed and hung out in the cold weather for good measure and a dinner was prepared.
"Am I expected to attend this?" Esca asked.
"They probably don't expect you to be here," Marcus replied. "But I'd like you to be there. I need some moral support."
Esca smirked. "Or you just want to annoy that little fop."
Marcus suppressed a grin. "Those were your words, not mine."
The dinner went as formal dinners go, though it pleased Marcus to see the two Romans do a double-take when Esca also attended the event.
"So, after long and careful deliberations, it's finally been decided to reinstate the Legio IX," Claudius said. "And I wanted to give you a heads up on that...so we could begin lobbying for you in case you wanted to play a role in it. It would only seem natural to have you there."
"But...with my leg, my injury..." Marcus objected.
"Ah, well, I have been taking that into consideration as well. Your position won't be at the forefront, but you will be given leadership. However, it's been decided it should be transferred to Noviomagus, in order to give it a fresh start away from the past events here," Claudius continued.
"So, what do you say?" he finished, looking expectantly at Marcus.
Marcus took a deep breath. He could feel his pulse pick up. He looked around at the triclinium, catching a glimpse of the snow-covered garden as a slave entered the room with a tray with dried fruit. He thought of the snow-covered fields and trees and the little native huts huddled together. The breathtaking wilderness he'd encountered beyond the wall, and his impressions of Britain when he first arrived.
He thought of Esca lying next to him in the evening. He thought of the merchant living with his British wife and Roman children in his house that was a mix of Rome and Britain. He thought of his father's remains up north.
"I'm afraid I wasn't made for being an armchair strategist," Marcus began. "And my leg will never regain full mobility and strength."
It wasn't a lie. In cold weather such as this, it was especially stiff and sore.
"So while I feel greatly honoured that you wish to lobby for my position there, I'm afraid I respectfully will have to decline. All signs point towards my work for Rome taking place here."
The ring on his finger glinted in the light from the lamps.
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Date: 2025-03-05 08:05 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2025-03-06 06:59 am (UTC)