Sarah

If I put my trust into the hands of a god, maybe he will guide me down the right path? It felt odd to think that a young man like Marcus, with the world at his feet, might feel the need for guidance in his future, but perhaps they were not so different after all. Wasn't that what Saturnalia was all about? And if Marcus could have doubts and uncertainties, that meant that others could too, even those to whom one would like to look up to. Wasn't that the message here, that they were all simply human in the eyes of the Gods? It was worth thinking about, and Varinia knew that she would. As a slave it was easy to see one's owner as wise and all powerful, but she was coming to realise that wasn't the case. Sometimes far from it. So perhaps there was no reason that anyone couldn't ask for a little guidance. She hadn't intended it, but now found herself in line with Marcus to see the statue of Jupiter. She was quite content with her current lot, but it was true that her future was fairly unstructured. Would she spend the rest of it running Teutus's household? What if he married? Should she go home, to Gaul. Could she? What did she want for herself? She didn't know. All that she had wanted - her son back - she now had, with her freedom as a bonus. The world had opened to her and it was a little daunting at times, but also exhilarating. What direction might Marcus seek? "My mother once told me that the Gods rarely speak to us directly." She said quietly to her young companion as they waited in the queue. "Amongst my people those they spoke to became priests and priestesses." Those who heard the words of the Gods became their mouths. "But if you watch and listen, they can speak to you in their own ways, little signs, to help guide us." Though she wasn't certain she believed it any more. She'd listened for many years, and it still felt like chance that Teutus had found her, though she'd made an offering in thanks to Fortuna. @Atrice

March 77AD It had been nearly two years since he'd lost his wife. Nearly a year and a half since he'd taken the Quaestorship in Achaea. He'd always been more of a military man than a political one, but suddenly Rome had become claustrophobic, and he needed to get away. Was it fate, fortune or his own nature that drew him back to Achaea, where he'd first met Lucia and fallen for her. It wasn't fashionable to be so in love with your wife, but if anyone understood it was his friend Aulus Calpurnius Praetextatus, whom he'd also met in Achaea, and who had ended up marrying his sister Horatia, and truly becoming a brother-in-law. And one in spirit, Publius had thought. Achaea had been the gateway to his truly stepping into adult life, to finding purpose and fulfillment, so perhaps it was natural that he'd been drawn back there. This time had been different. This time he had a family. He'd ensured that his children had arrangements for their proper education and socialisation, then thrown himself into his work, finding ways to work with the local military commander despite his being there in a political role. His son had taken his toga in Achaea, much to his pride, but even that had felt a little hollow; Spurius's mother had not been there to see it. He'd hired a local woman, Agape, to maintain his household, and ended up taking her to his bed, out of simple needs than any great desire for her particularly. And she had comforted him. But the revelation of her pregnancy had thrown that slightly hollow contentment out of the window. He'd toyed briefly with the idea of marrying her, but discarded it as not appropriate for his family. His children needed a proper mother figure of the right class and breeding, and much as he wanted more children, to claim Agape's child would be to somehow reduce all that he and Lucia had in their children. The boy's birth had brought the hard realisation that he needed to do the right thing and return to Rome. He'd made arrangements for Agape and her son. They had a home and would receive a peculium, part of which was to be put towards Agapios's education. He would not live in poverty. Now they were back, and having settled into his father's domus once more - to the quiet pleasure of the pater familias, Publius suspected - his first port of call was to visit his sister Horatia, the sibling with whom he'd always been closest, and his friend Aulus, if he was in. He'd sent word of their intended visit of course, and brought his children. Spurius was of an age with Titus and Lucia Justinia was only two years younger than Calpurnia Horatia; the cousins had previously been close. And it made sense for them to reconnect with family as well. So as they approached, Publius and Spurius in their togas and Lucia in her finest chiton and palla. A slave knocked on the door of the familiar domus. @Sara

Updated to add Publius to the stable.

The nocturnal visit by Roscianus and his compatriots - including Jason by all accounts - had been somewhat surreal. They'd captured Atratinus's killer. He'd killed others, hurt others, liked to see people bleed. So they said. They called him a monster. He trusted the judgement of three of the four, and had no reason not to trust the fourth save that he did not know him. But was the man they had caught really all they made out? Tiberius decided to see the man for himself. The Imperial went nowhere alone of course, but the majority of his entourage waited outside whilst he was led to the appropriate cell in the Tullianum, a Praetorian amongst those at his heels. Who was this man they called monster? When they finally reached the cell, Tiberius had to admit that he didn't look like much, but then he may well have been given reasons to feel sorry for himself during the night. "This is him?" He asked those with him. @Atrice

As those solemn words of acknowledgement hung between them, and the two young men's gazes met, Tiberius felt that he and Jason might have reached some sort of understanding. Life wasn't fair, but it could be fairer, and they could work together. His body slave's quiet words of gratitude seemed to confirm that in Tiberius's mind. He wasn't certain how yet, but he felt there had to be a way. He tried to explain to Jason what he was thinking, what he wanted to do, and the other man neither scoffed nor demanded immediate action; rather he seemed to think it through carefully. Perhaps the two of them had more in common in their natures than Tiberius had previously realised. What can change the nature of a man? Jason spoke of the difficulty of creating such change, with the voice of one raised to know man's nature, but he didn't dismiss the idea of Tiberius's goal, rather lauded it. The young prince knew that such good relations with slaves were not in every man's nature, and that men could be vastly different creatures; just look at the contrast between himself, quiet and bookish, and his brother-in-law Marcus, raised alongside him but far more interested in parties and socialising. Possibly also happier and more carefree. I don't know if it's possible. That doesn't mean that it's not worth trying. "We only only find out if we try." Tiberius replied with a smile. "Laws exist to curb men's baser natures, and to make the world a little fairer." Having served as a decemviri stlitibus judicandis had only whet Tiberius's appetite for understanding. "They're not perfect, but they're our first tool. There may be others." The thought formed as he spoke it; laws were a blunt but effective instrument, but there were more subtle ways. "Cultural change is harder and takes longer, but it does happen." Perhaps people could learn to think better of slaves, especially if certain acts against them became punishable. "We shall have to see." That was all that he could say for now. "I'll arrange for you to have access to the stables. Whenever you have free time, you can take Ignis out - or any of the other horses." He told Jason matter of factly. "I trust you." He added, perhaps unnecessarily. "I would like you to work with Ignis, and also to teach me to understand horses better." He would love to be able to ride like Jason could. "And if you like I can teach you something, or arrange a tutor. Would you like to learn to read?" That could open the whole world of the written word to Jason. @Sharpie

That Atratinus's killer had been captured was excellent news, these men were heroes, but Tiberius queried why they felt the news couldn't wait until morning. That is, until the sun came up. He suspected it was already technically morning; so late that it was early. Roscianus went on to provide more background, explaining that the man had a history of killing and injuring people, particularly woman, and some sick fascination with the sight of blood. Well, all the better that he was locked away. Then came the 'but', some of the man's victims did not want their names known. That made things more complicated. If there were no willing witnesses, it would be difficult to see justice done. Had the man lured women away, that they might be suspected of adultery or some such? It was too late at night for this. Early. Whatever. "Surely you have some willing witnesses though? How do you know this is the man who killed Atratinus?" If they had a positive identification on the man, that meant that someone had witnessed the killing and lived to tell the tale. If they didn't, then there was no guarantee that they had the right man. Jason interjected, something Tiberius was more than willing to forgive if he had something useful to say, and from what he said it became plain that his bodyslave had been involved, at least somewhat, in the man's capture as well. He did give him some freedoms, but joining the vigiles on a manhunt wasn't quite what he anticipated Jason would do with his spare time. This man needs to die, and to be seen to die. Tiberius glanced over his shoulder at his slave, then back at the other three. "What you're saying is that you want a public execution." He surmised. Yes, he could order it. It was within his power as an Imperial, but Tiberius understood history, and the dangers of taking the law into one's own hands. Taking a seat on one of the chairs in the room, Tiberius gestured wordlessly that the other men should make themselves comfortable too. "You may not be aware, but during my time in the vigintiviri I served as a decemviri stlitibus judicandis." Which was one of the magistrates responsible for judging cases. He could have asked for one of the positions associated with the minting of coins or religious duties, arguably easier and perhaps more prestigious, but he was far more interested in law. "Every Roman citizen has the right to a fair trial - I'm assuming he is a citizen?" He asked suddenly, favouring Roscianus with a questioning look. Then he went on. "Assuming that he is not of Senatorial rank, and a magistrate finds him guilty of the murder and the attacks, then given that Atratinus was a Senator, execution would be appropriate." Murder, where the victim was of the same or lower status as the guilty party, was usually punished by fines and/or exile. "In which case, the upcoming Cerealia games would be an appropriate venue." Something involving wild animals, perhaps. @Sains @Chevi @Sharpie @Atrice

Tiberius smiled at Horatia's giggle over the - sometimes detailed - graffiti on the various walls of Rome. Admitedly most of it was not exactly profound. He'd been told that his own name featured there on a few occasions, and wasn't certain how he felt about it. But it was one possible source of information, and he was interested in attracting as broad a range as possible. Hence his raising the subject with his hostess. I assume you take your fill of the information and then refine it before passing critical information higher? Tiberius nodded. "That is the intention." Caesar couldn't be bothered with all things all the time, that was what he had counsellors for. Tiberius was acutely aware of the importance of all classes of peoples to the functioning of the Empire, so he took it upon himself to gather the relevant information on his brother's behalf. "It is easy to turn one's eye outward to the provinces or the Empire's borders, especially in instances of unrest, but I believe that unrest can be prevented if the needs of the people are seen to." Wasn't that part of the point of the bread which the Empire provided the citizens of Rome? So they need not go hungry? Of course, to ensure stability one also needed to ensure that the aspirations of those who sought greatness were turned to the Empire's benefit, not her downfall. So many considerations, hence the importance of Titus's concillium. Wise minds to advise him. Tiberius was glad that Aulus was amongst them. His carefully worded invitation seemed to give Horatia pause, and he waited whilst she considered, before asking whether his male counsellors didn't provide him with the concerns of their wives and daughters. "In a word, no." He said, a tad ruefully. "Not all are wed, to begin with. And I fear that the minds of men whilst at work are often turned to things other than their family." It was true. Roman society was structured to keep the two spheres quite separate. "I have female friends, and of course my sister" he agreed, still thinking that Ovinia might make a good adviser, "but just as the concerns of an Imperial Princess are not those of a Roman maiden, so I suspect that a maiden's concerns are not those of a matron." He suggested. "Unless you regularly discuss your concerns with women just entering society?" He asked. For all he knew, she might. Who knew what women did, whilst their menfolk were busy? @Sara

Tiberius was struck by Jason's wisdom. He was right of course, life was rarely fair, the young Imperial knew that all too well from his own childhood experiences. They did each have to make the most of what they had - which in his case was still rather a lot - or else grow bitter and find no joy in life. His body slave was a few years older than him, and had lived a life both similar and different, first as a chieftain's son, and then as a slave. He was always quiet and obedient, but today was Tiberius's first real glimpse into the other man's mind. Slaves were traditionally treated as furniture, save by those few who grew close to one or two of them, but if Seneca's writings held the truth that they seemed to, then even slaves should be accorded the basic rights of people. That wasn't the difficulty in Tiberius's mind, the difficulty was integrating that whilst still having them as slaves. For without slaves the Empire would not function. There is... something, that we teach our horses, back home. We can only do it when a horse really knows and trusts its rider. We teach them to stand, and to wait, without being tied or having someone hold the reins. And they always do. Jason offered this thought in his mild, seemingly innocuous way, and Tiberius listened. Training a horse, a horse that knew it's master well and trusted him, to stand and wait without restraint. In that moment he thought that perhaps he and Jason were on the same wavelength, that his bodyslave, with the insight needed by one born to rule, had followed his train of thought. He looked across at the other man frankly, seeing him in that moment not as his familiar slave, but as a scion of a proud lineage in his own right. It was difficult to reconcile the two, but in that moment the young Imperial felt there should be a way. "You're talking about loyalty." He said simply, watching Jason's expression. "If a horse knows and trusts it's master, then it is loyal and will follow and obey. Like a dog, save that dogs seem to be born loyal to men; I think horses are not." Horses were born wild and free, but Jason's people knew how to make them friends; family. "Nor are men." He added simply, as though that wasn't a huge jump of logic. They reached the river side and the young Imperial reined his bay gelding to a stop. Turning in his saddle, he gave Jason that same frank gaze. "Jason, I acknowledge that you were once the son of a chieftain. You have your own history and your own culture." The words were very formal, Tiberius felt that this was important. Then he went on to explain. "Life is rarely fair, as you say, but I think that it can be fairer." This was what he'd been turning over in his mind. "The Empire must have slaves, but the lot of a slave should not be any more miserable than absolutely necessary." Certainly there were Romans who seemed to think that a slave's life should be as miserable as possible, and Tiberius did not hold with that. "I think..." his gaze drifted to the horizon as he marshalled his thoughts and he sighed slightly, knowing the hard yards that lay ahead, "I think that there are changes that can be made to make things fairer, but I need to work further, before I can bring a legal proposal to the Senate." That would take time; maybe years. It might prove to be his great work. "But I think we can start here, with us." @Sharpie

Mid April 77AD It was Cerealia. The year had turned, the days had warmed, the grain fields were sprouting and Ceres had found her daughter Prosperpine and was enjoying having her at home again. Varinia could understand how she felt, now that she'd been enjoying sharing her son's home for the last few months, after years of separation. And enjoying her freedom, of course. She had grown more accustomed to it over those months, and was really starting to enjoy being able to do even just simple things when she wanted, as she wanted. Like making little flatcakes. Flour and water and eggs, honey and dried fruit soaked in wine, all mixed together and fried on a griddle to make little warm, puffy rounds of deliciousness. She'd packed them into a basket lined and covered with cloth to keep them warm, and carried them down to the insula's inner courtyard. The building was home to a range of people, from those who lived in multi-roomed insulae like themselves, to those who lived behind their shop fronts on the ground floor, to those who rented single rooms on the top floor. Every one of her neighbours whom she'd met had been lovely so far, and she was looking forward to meeting more as they celebrated the turning of the year. On top of the basket she carried a spray of wildflowers that she'd collected early that morning from down by the river and these she strewed over one of the tables that had been set in the courtyard, before placing her basket on top of it. She was pretty certain that Alexius would appear once he smelled food, and of course there was her own household. Who else might appear, with a plate or basket if they could afford to share food, or just themselves if they could not? All were welcome in her eyes. This would be fun.

Mid April 77AD It was mid April and the weather was warming, trees were blossoming, and most importantly the first green sprouts of wheat from the grain which had been planted earlier in the season had been confirmed in the fields; the grain was fertile and growing and Rome would not starve. Ceres' blessing was on them for another year. In celebration, as was traditional each year, sacrifices of pork, wheat, salt, and incense had been offered to Ceres. Her statue had been draped in garlands of spring flowers and ceremonially paraded from her temple to the Circus Maximus, where she held the seat of honour next to Caesar himself, who sat in the Goddess's presence. There were to be races today, not of the chariots of which Romans were so fond, but of horses, in the more traditional form. Their riders would goad their individual steeds around the track, whilst the spectators looked on. Imperial Area Immediately below where Titus sat with the decorated statue of of Ceres was the space reserved for the rest of the Imperials. Tiberius occupied this area, cool under a cloth canopy, clad purely in white as was traditional; a bright tunica and toga candida. Immediately about him there was space who those whom he had invited; family of course but also the younger generation of the Senatorial class, both male and female, whilst the more senior Senatores and their wives had space reserved to either side of the Imperials, within conversation range should they desire. It was an arrangement intended to demonstrate openness and largesse, whilst also allowing his own generation - stunted somewhat by the chaos of the purges - to meet, mingle and forge their own friendships and alliances. As he watched the stands gradually fill, Tiberius wondered whether he would be able to spot Jason's cousin in the race.

Lucius was struggling to see what Ovinia found so scandelous about Tertius carrying on with a plebian woman. So long as he didn't get her with child there was no problem on their family's end. Her family was her problem. But Ovinia didn't seem to see it that way. Don't you think it a little unfair? Can you imagine if I went off with a plebeian man? Would you be quite so blasé? Ovinia pouted and slouched on her couch. Of course he wouldn't be so blasé if she carried on with a plebian man, but she was a woman. Women belonged to their father and their husband, and a woman risked an illegitimate pregnancy. No man wanted a wife who might already be pregnant to someone else, which was why they were expected to be virgins for their first marriage, and given a year to find a new husband if they were widowed or divorced. It just made sense. But it made equal sense that someone in a relationship had to understand the ways of the marriage bed, not that it went down well when he pointed that out to his sister, who was decidedly snarky about the fact that she had no idea what went on. Especially given that he was pretty sure she at least understood the basic concept, even though he wasn't going to ask her. He just didn't understand why she was suddenly in a temper again. Maybe it was just the stress of finding an acceptable suitor, especially in light of her rather narrow requirements. He could at least keep their younger brother from interfering whilst she was meeting potential candidates, and he made that offer which she gracefully accepted. A moment later the conversation was cut short as a slave said that mother was asking for her. Lucius was disappointed, but he resolved to keep his word and spend more time at home; then hopefully they'd find another chance to chat. It was odd but he was closer to Ovinia than either of their brothers, let alone their father. And then there was mother. Lucius was at a loss, but if Ovinia could help, he knew she would. He accepted and returned the kiss on the cheek. "I suppose I can save you a few." He replied with a wink, in reference to the olives. "Let mother know I'm home?" He asked, then watched her leave the room, idly reducing the number of olives he was saving without even thinking about what he was doing. His thoughts were on his sister, on the weights on her shoulders and her odd frustration over a normal part of womanly life. Of course women didn't take lovers before they married, that was sense. And she would marry soon. She needed to marry. They just had to find her someone. Someone who she felt she could love, since she'd already rejected what was probably the best suitor she'd be offered, because he didn't match up to what she saw in the mislead younger brother... Oh Gods. It hit him like a Parthian arrow. Can you imagine if I went off with a plebeian man? No, but suddenly he could imagine if she went off with a misguided senatore-turned-equite with good arms and a nice jaw. Gods save them. She was angry because her brothers could take women to their beds and she couldn't have her stupid vigile. Didn't she see he didn't deserve her? If she wanted love, it wasn't there, else he'd not have got adopted down in the first place! Father would have preferred the older brother, but would probably have accepted the younger as suitor if she'd insisted, but that option wasn't even there now. "Oh Gods 'Nilla." He murmured quietly, watching the now empty doorway. "We have got to get you married." @Sara

The two Luciuses settled onto the bench and into a tentative understanding, as they discussed the issues around the man who had attacked Ovinia, and where the search for him was up to. From a personal point of view it was troubling that he had not yet been found, when his sister had been so gravely and rudely injured, but from a military perspective, Camillus knew that finding one man in a city would be a right Imperial pain in the butt. Roscianus seemed willing to discuss greater details than were being officially given, and Camillus listened with interest, becoming aware for the first time that his sister was just one of a string of victims of this sadistic individual, and apparently she had gotten off lightly. "If he's attacking many people then it's even more reason that he needs to be run to ground, and swiftly." Camillus agreed. Not that it would help Ovinia to know that she was just one of many... or would it? Regardless none of the family wanted the fact that she'd been attacked known, it would do her reputation, and theirs no good. But knowing that her attacker had been caught would do his sister a world of good, he was certain. "What do you need?" Camillus asked at length. What could help their efforts, and was it something that his family could provide? @Chevi

Varinia smiled warmly. "Of course it's alright." She assured him, more than ready to feed any wayward soul. "Else I wouldn't have suggested it. Besides, Tertius isn't the only family you have in Rome." And even if he didn't find the father he was looking for - something Teutus could commiserate on - perhaps he might find the brother he hadn't looked for. And a step-mum, but she was anyone's mum for a sestercius. "I know that Teutus would welcome you." She added, almost conspiritorially. "He mentioned to me that he'd met you already, I just didn't know what you looked like." Now she did. And, having found him, she wasn't just going to let Wulfric go without making it clear that he was welcome and wanted in their household. She'd had a note from Teutus to take to Tertius, which was why she was here in the first place; she enjoyed saying the occasional brief hello to Tertius and sometimes played courier. Nothing to press on his time, but something to maintain the friendship she wanted to foster there. But she could take it tomorrow, perhaps along with Wulfric's letter, and perhaps that might even give her an opportunity to learn Tertius's thoughts on his other son. She'd have to see what she could manage. Right now she had a somewhat troubled young man to support. "Come with me, I was just about to head home via the nearby thermopolia." To find something for dinner. "Teutus shouldn't be long from his warehouse either." She assured him. Then they could all have a meal together. @Atrice

It was the way she skittered out of range of his brief gesture, little more than a wave, that increased his suspicions. She moved like someone accustomed to dodging blows. Someone who wasn't a fighter, but still got hit. And as she dropped his cutlery she seemed far too embarrassed by a simple fall; he was pretty certain she was lying. Poor thing. Why did some men out there have no self control? If you couldn't trust yourself not to be violent, you should keep yourself to yourself. "Well, you be careful and look after yourself, hmm?" He said gently, with a faint, sympathetic smile. "You don't want any broken bones." Either from falling, or from things she should never have to face. The radio was playing faintly over some old speakers hung from the low rafters, some sort of inoffensive station, and the DJ switched to an older Paul Simon song. Over the mountains, down in the valley Lives the former talk show host Everybody knows his name. He said "There's no doubt about it, It was the myth of fingerprints. I've seen them all and, man, they're all the same." As Spencer set up his laptop Iona asked whether he'd want the Ploughman's Lunch again. "Please, unless there's a special you'd recommend?" He asked in turn, pulling a manilla folder of papers out of the briefcase as well and setting them next to the laptop, leaving a strategic place for his plate. "And a glass of lemonade." He opened the folder and deliberately left the top page visible, with the business card that was clipped to it. Except it wasn't for a business. The Mary Magdalene Shelter for Women had a card that was white with blue writing, and a little line drawing of a woman in a shroud on the right hand side. "Sorry, I'm taking up all the table already." He murmured apologetically. @Sara

The idea of viewing the locating her brother as a diplomatic favour didn't go down as easily as Tiberius had hoped; rather Hilda insisted that either she pay, or it be a gift. He glanced sidelong at her, wondering whether, with her so far seemingly non-existent contingent, she might be here in a capacity that was far more personal than diplomatic. She'd introduced herself as a Princess of the Chatti, but she'd come unannounced to the Palace gates. Had she come without the blessing of her pater familias? Was she here purely as a sister looking for her brother? It was an interesting thought. Surely she realised, as a princess, nothing she did was purely for herself, even as, as an Imperial, everything he did reflected on his brother and family. A faint, wry smile tugged at his lips for a moment. "A gift then. A gesture of friendship." Certainly in the past there had been plenty of bad blood between their peoples, but if that was ever going to change, it had to start somewhere. Why not with them? Plus, he'd only promised to locate this Wulfric, nothing had been said about what happened afterwards. Perhaps he might like to live in the palace, a guest of the Empire? At least until he knew them better. That might however be at odds with his sister's intentions, but give her a few days in the same and see what she thought. So big. Why do you need such large homes? It was big, and impressive, but it had been built with that very intention. "Do your Chieftains not have larger, and more luxurious homes?" He asked, curious. Surely they must. "One must have a suitably fine and impressive place to receive visiting dignitaries, after all." Like stroppy Germanic princesses. Of course, that didn't answer the question of why this villa was so big, when it hadn't actually been built as a palace. "As to why Sullust built his home so big, I think it was because he could." The man was long dead so there was no asking him. "What are your homes like?" He asked, genuinely curious. @Sara

I've never seen anywhere as nice as this before. Not even back at home. He supposed that she would not have. He knew little about her life on Kefalonia, but if her father had been a potter then likely they were not wealthy. In Rome many of the potters were slaves, only the master potter was free. She had at least been born free, much good that it had done her, but wealthy men didn't need to sell their daughters. He'd grown up very comfortably, by contrast, and continued to live in a manner that was comfortable but not ostentatious. But a little time in the comforts of his house was an easy thing to give her, that cost him only her fee. "Enjoy it then." He said simply. Why shouldn't she? Perhaps she'd even develop a taste for wealthier customers; it might even help her resolve herself to her new life. I don't think I can borrow it next week. He finished adjusting the shoulder of the pink chiton, and smiled approvingly. "So you did borrow it. Smart girl." He'd thought perhaps she'd bought it, though if he'd really thought about it he would have realised that the coin he'd given her wouldn't stretch that far. Perhaps he might get her something. Her usual tunica wasn't exactly flattering but it was better than arriving in the obvious, gaudy toga she wore at the brothel. He did appreciate her discretion. She offered to have her hair done for him, and he thought of the artful arrangement she'd arrived with. It had been pretty, but didn't last long, and he knew that kind of thing was time consuming, and likely expensive for her since she had no bodyslave to do it for her. He remembered watching his mother have her hair done by her slave when he was young; it seemed to take hours then though he was certain some of that was the impatience of youth. "Wear it loose." He said simply. "I like it out." Even not primped and curled, the way it fell past her face was fetching. Even as he directed her she looked longingly at the bed, but also like she was torn. Normally she'd only be in another's bed for work, but she looked tired and he'd done without for years, he could wait another week. He'd rather she was rested and refreshed, so he simply nodded when she asked if he was certain, and that seemed to be all the encouragement she needed. He watched as she curled up on it, head on the pillows, her murmured gratitude already just a mumble, as though she was already half asleep. She looked so young. Just a girl, though likely one wed by now if she'd been free. He watched her for a moment, torn by the urge to climb into the bed with her and cuddle up to her, just to feel her softness and warmth. But she might well take that as a wordless request for something other than sleep, so instead he turned away after a moment and left her to it. When she woke she'd find a little as on the pillow next to her, and the master of the house elsewhere. It was better that way, he needed time to think. Time to somehow reconcile his usual detachment with slaves with the desire to have not just service from Ione, but affection. One his way back to his tablinum he caught sight of Corva, sitting in the peristyle and using the natural light to aid her sewing. Pausing to watch her working carefully, her fingers curled and her back a little bent, he supposed that Ione wouldn't be the first slave he'd made an exception to his rules for. The twins were the workhorses of the household, but his old nurse and tutor were with him beyond strict usefulness, because he was fond of them. He supposed he could allow himself to be fond of Ione too. -------------------- It had been a busy week, but Spurius had found himself anticipating Ione's visit. His bed had smelled of her when he'd retired that night. He was glad he'd asked her to bring another girl for the twins, she wouldn't be tired and they could have all to time they wanted to... well, he had ideas, but also reservations. Just because there was a sweet and attractive young woman around didn't resolve certain issues; it only made him wish it did. But they did say time healed all wounds. Only death removes the scars. He wasn't convinced that time was the greatest medicus, but he was willing to hope, whilst at the same time telling himself that hope was foolish. And then he'd get annoyed with himself for being distracted from whatever he was supposed to be doing. See? Nothing good comes of being soft on slaves! She's just a prostitute. He didn't even like prostitutes, not after the last one. But there was something about Ione. With three antsy men in the house Corva had made herself scarce, busying herself somewhere in the little kitchen garden out the back, whilst Linus was quietly doing some sums, tallying up the week's costs and income at his master's business and ignoring the fact that his master was being a little irritable. Spurius was going over his correspondence and trying to focus on it. @Sara

It wasn't her fault, but sometimes she felt like it was. After all, she'd been more than willing to go to young Tertius's bed, quite infatuated with him, as only a teenage girl could be. But if she hadn't, she wouldn't have Teutus at all, and that didn't bear thinking about either. No, what they had was the best they probably could have, even if Teutus always felt that he could have had more. Tertius could have done more, but he hadn't, and she didn't want Teutus to be bitter about it forever. Not when there was so much more in his life, and most of it good. And perhaps Tertius had tried - Teutus seemed to think he had - but was just an awkward sod and had completely messed things up. That perhaps she could believe, though it painted the man as far more human and fallible than the echo of the young girl she had been wanted to acknowledge; but hadn't she just tried to tell her son that? Perhaps she too wished Tertius could be a little more of the man she wanted, and couldn't have, because he didn't quite exist. "I guess... we've both wanted to see things in him that might not have been there." She said quietly after a moment. He wants me to be a son, I guess, just... I don't know. I can't be a senator's son, not legally, not in any way that really matters, and I don't know how to be that anyway. And it's not like he really treats me like a son anyway. It was like getting blood out of a stone to get him to admit he might be proud of what I've done with my business, even. It still seemed to her ears that Tertius didn't really know what to do with his son. Which was sad because he was a wonderful young man. "Just be yourself, Makki." She said warmly, turning to him and catching his face in her hands, like she would do when he was a child. Only now she had to reach up, not down. "You're already wonderful. Stop worrying about him and live your life, be the best you can be." She urged. "Maybe one day he'll see it, or understand, or find the right words." She really hoped he would. "But if he doesn't, don't let it ruin life for you. I see it. I know how wonderful you are. I love you. And I know others will too." She couldn't fix his father, at least not quickly, but he would always have the love and adoration of his mother. But she was still a mother, and after a moment her expression turned shrewd. "I think you need something else to focus on. We should find you a wife." Maybe if Teutus had a son of his own, he'd worry less about his own father. @Sharpie

Tiberius listened to his body slave as Jason laced his sandles, trying to wake up properly and piece together what he was being told. That it was important he accepted implicitly, trusting that Jason would not wake him for less. Important, but no one was in danger. But justice was needed. And there was a third person, one Alexius. It wasn't a common name, but it didn't ring any bells. Tiberius shook his head when Jason asked if he knew the man. Should he? Well, he'd know soon enough. "This sounds complicated. I'll see what they have to say." He said simply, as Jason finished draping the thick wool cloak about his shoulders, then followed him out. Sure enough, there were three men waiting in the anteroom, and just for a moment Tiberius had the thought that if anyone wanted to kill him, this would be the way to do it. Bribe Jason - who admitedly he didn't think was all that bribable - to let them in and ambush him like this. But the thought passed in an instant; Roscianus he knew, Atellus wore a Praetorian's cloak, and the third had to be this Alexius. He was a big man and looked dangerous enough, but he kept good company. Certainly they made a formidable trio, in whose company the slightly built and somewhat touselled Imperial was probably rather underwhelming. "What is it I need to hear?" He asked bluntly, getting straight to the point. He should be able to trust the judgement of at least two of the three in front of him; the third was an unknown. Roscianus seemed to nominate himself spokesperson, apologising for waking him and beginning his explanation. We apprehended... well, Alexius helped apprehend the man who'd killed the senator yesterday. We just took him to the Tullianum. That explained the presence of this Alexius. Tiberius met the man's gaze and nodded slightly in acknowledgement, before focusing on Lucius again. "Sempronius Atratinus's killer." He recalled hearing of the man's rather gruesome death. "Well done. I assume there's a reason you can't simply present the evidence against him to the magistrate in the morning?" He suggested. It was of course an excellent thing that the killer was no longer on the street, assuming that this was indeed the man sought, but did it really warrant waking Tiberius to hear the news? There had to be something else, something that complicated the situation, else these three should be celebrating as heroes in a taberna. @Sains @Chevi @Sharpie @Atrice

Yes, if he'll come. If he's still in Rome... "Well, if you see him, invite him." She said simply. It would be easy enough to cater for another for a meal - well, she would make it easy. A half-brother was blood, and frankly Teutus could do with some good family relations, as his poor relationship with his father was clearly still hurting him. Father's a Senator, a Praetor even, he ought to have some idea about treating the people around him. He wasn't wrong. Tertius was apparently a great political success. Varinia shrugged helplessly. "Maybe he finds it easier dealing with the law, or with other Patrician men." She said in a sad tone. She wished she had answers for him, and she didn't. Teutus felt strongly that Tertius had done badly by him, stringing him along with promised, and she couldn't see any way that he was wrong. "He could have done something." She agreed simply. And he hadn't, for some reason that she had no insight on, other than what she'd already voiced. "I'm sorry Makki." She put her arm around his shoulders and leaned her head on the nearer. "I wish you had the father you deserve. You're a good man, and you're my pride and joy." She hadn't been privy to the broken promises, but if they meant that Teutus was always a man of his word, that at least was something. She could feel him shaking as he let out a deep breath, feel how deeply the past had hurt him, and felt her own eyes grow hot with tears. Tertius had held in his hands the one thing she valued most in this world, and he didn't seem to understand what he had. After a moment Teutus seemed to pull himself together, muttering that there was no point in being upset over things that can't be changed. "I never found anything good in anger over the past." She murmured, having had a fair bit to be angry about. "But there is a lot of potential in the future." But the situation was niggling at her. It was Varinia's turn to sigh gustily. "I guess I just don't want you to burn your bridge with your father, and find out later that you want it." She admitted. Tertius was making his own life with Charis, and that was probably a very good thing. Perhaps Teutus could focus on his life, and maybe one day the two men could meet again on better terms. She hoped so. She had difficulty believing that there was any real malice in Tertius, which didn't mean that he wasn't a source of problems by omission or lack of action, because clearly he was. But it hurt her that he had hurt their son so, and there was nothing she could do about it. @Sharpie

"Of course I'll share." Varinia replied, warmth and a touch of amusement in her voice. That's what the cakes were for, sharing and spreading the blessings of Saturnalia. Marcus pointed out that Saturn was also the god of wealth, so a few coins should be acceptable as an offering too. Perfect. They each had something they could offer the god, though Varinia didn't know what she might pray for. She was still becoming accustomed to her sudden change in circumstances, and counting her new blessings, to want more. Perhaps instead she would simply offer thanks. She had heard it said that Saturn was also a god of liberation; certainly it was he before whom all were equal during this celebration. Marcus however seemed to have something on his mind. A combination of curiosity and desire to offer moral support to a young person who seemed oddly troubled caused Varinia to follow up the stairs in his footsteps. "Are you seeking a particular blessing?" She asked quietly as she followed the young man, pulling her palla up to cover her dark hair as they entered the temple. Saturn might not be a god she'd been born with, but she would not risk his ire by disrespecting him. @Atrice

What does it matter, how well or badly he thinks of me, if he doesn't do the things he says he will... "But it does matter. I can hear it in your voice." Varinia chided ever so gently, working her way slowly along the loom's main beam as she tied the bundles of warp threads. She shook her head gently as he spoke further, not making any excuses for the man who wasn't the youth she'd known, much as she believed she could still see that youth in him. She did smile when Teutus described his brother. "He sounds nice, if as you say, not safe to leave wandering around." No doubt his people's ways were quite different to Roman ones, if he was from Germania. "Did you want to invite him back here?" I don't know what to think, about Father. He treats everyone so... shabbily. It was still bothering her son, very much so. Varinia felt for him, but she also felt a little bit for the man who had fathered him. Tying off the last bundle of warp threads, she left her loom and came over to her son, putting a hand on Teutus's arm. "I don't know." She admitted. "But if I had to guess, I'd say that he doesn't know either." She said gently. "People should keep their words, and you have every right to be frustrated with him." She wouldn't begrudge her son that. She was frustrated in a way, not with Tertius but with his father. And his father was dead so that achieved nothing. She'd resolved long ago to enjoy what she had, not fret over what she hadn't. "But... I think that Tertius is walking a difficult path between what he wants, and what society says he should have and do, and doesn't always see what we think is the obvious, right path." This was of course only Varinia's thoughts on the subject, but it was something that she'd pondered for a long time. She settled herself calmly next to him. "Tertius and I were young and foolish, and I loved him Teutus, as well as any slave can love their master. But because of that foolishness, I have the greatest joy in my life." She smiled at him warmly and patted his hand. "He couldn't acknowledge you as his son when you were born, his father would not permit it." She said simply, because that was the truth of it. "I... was afraid that Publius would demand you be exposed," she admitted with difficultly "but he let me keep you." Which had perhaps been the man's greatest charity towards her. "Your father was the third son; I'm sure you know this. He probably expected to have a life in the military. Now Publius Major and Minor are dead, and I understand he had a fight with Secundus. So suddenly he's managing his own household without guidance from a pater familias, and I don't actually think he knows what he's doing. He's human too." Much as it was easy, having been slaves, to see Romans as near god-like, Varinia knew from her younger years that wasn't the case. She squeezed his fingers. "So you can blame some of your situation on your fool of a mother, for falling for a Roman, and some on your father, who's muddling through as best he can without the guidance he was supposed to have." She suggested, looking up at him, her wonderful son, who despite all that had made a great start in life. And it looked like things would only get better. @Sharpie

It's so exciting... that I get to see your future home. It must be nice... being able to do what you want to do, like that. Tiberius's warm smile faltered at Sosia's words, even as he saw the truth in them. She would always be in someone else's house, whether her father, husband or brother's. Even her son's one day. "I guess it is." He said, a little quietly, though in some ways this was the first time in his life that he had been able to do what he wanted. Most men lived under the authority of their pater familias. That was the way of it of course, unless... "I know it probably seems along way off, but the jus trium liberorum states that if you have three children, you are no longer subject to your father or husband's authority." Then she could do what she wanted. Not that Tiberius really wanted to think about Sosia marrying, even though he knew it would happen and sooner rather than later. He hoped her father chose a good man for her. "What would you do, if you could do what you want to do?" He asked, wondering what Sosia would do with her freedom, if she had it. The simple way that she chose her words suggested that there was something she wanted to do, and couldn't. Across the front courtyard rose the main building, the doors opening in the hands of Tiberius's slaves, to reveal the cool marble within. @Atrice

The two young men had very different personalities, and different interests, and no doubt there were many who would assume that would mean they wouldn't get along, which just showed how little some people understood. But their close upbringing meant that, whatever their differences, Marcus was someone who understood him, someone he could talk to and trust. And that meant a lot. After some hesitation he even talked to him about the mixed feelings he had about Sosia; wanting her and not wanting to hurt her. And Marcus could point out the bleeding obvious that he'd missed without offending him; if Sosia wanted him too, she would be the last person to tell. All they had to do was make certain that no one saw - no, no one who would speak of it saw. One blind spot in Tiberius's otherwise quite adept political nature was that he wasn't particularly duplicious. He was also accustomed to being an Imperial in the Palace, which meant that there were always people watching. But they weren't in the palace now, and Marcus's matter of fact words were something of a revelation. Perhaps he could arrange something... Another party? You’re going to keep me busy, aren’t you? Tiberius grinned. "You've got to earn your keep somehow." He replied. "Besides, you enjoy it." He teased. Well, Marcus enjoyed parties, whether that meant he wanted to be the Imperial Party Planner was another question entirely. "We should celebrate. This is our place, our first step into our adult lives." And it was a huge step, but one that he had been very much looking forward to. They would have the space to work out how they wanted to live, these two young men without father figures, and they would do it together. We’re going to do so well here. Tiberius leaned against the opposite side of the generous window frame. "We are. And you'll see; this is only the beginning." @Atrice

Wrapped in the depths of slumber, and accustomed as he had been all his life to ignore the comings and goings of slaves, Tiberius took several moments to rouse. Squinting in the light of the lantern, he recognised Jason's voice before his face, side-lit as it was. But it was a voice he knew, and trusted. Frowning at the light, he glanced out the window with it's small panes of glass, where the sky was still very dark and the moon hadn't moved all that much from when he'd gone to bed. "Jason, it's the middle of the night." He protested mildly, levering himself up on his elbows. But his body slave would know that, and however accustomed to each other they might be, it started to percolate through Tiberius's sleep-addled brain that Jason wouldn't have woken him without cause. There were men who needed to speak with him, urgently, apparently. One of them was Roscianus, the once Senatore now Equite vigile, whom he had asked to keep him appraised of any dangers to the citizenry that might warrant Imperial attention. The other... Attelus... was vaguely familiar. One of the newer Praetorians perhaps? A Vigile and a Praetorian. Tiberius's blue eyes snapped open as he was suddenly wide awake. That combination, at this time of night, surely meant danger, presumably to the Imperial family. He sat up in bed. "I'll see them. Find me a cloak or a woolen toga, and my sandles." He said to his body slave, for it was chill in the night at this time of year. Swinging his legs out of bed he sat there for his sandles to be presented and laced, then stood so that Jason could throw whatever woolen garment was closest to hand over the tunica he'd been sleeping in, pondering as he did so the fact that Jason looked as though he hadn't yet been to bed. @Atrice @Chevi @Sharpie @Sains

Lucius made kissy lips in Ovinia's direction when she silently told him where to go, not in the least offended. This was the sister that he remembered, peaking out past the proper young woman he knew she had to be, and the depressed thing she'd become following the attack. It was good to know that she was still there. Some people just were dreadful, in Lucius's experience, or at least prone to becoming so. He didn't know what had happened to their Aunt, he just didn't want it to happen to his sister. So they were agreed that Aunt Antonilla's was out of the question. They could hire something, but Ovinia revealed that her friend had a villa in Herculaneum! "If we could stay there, that would be perfect." He agreed. It might mean sharing with Nesennia's family, but hey, free accomodation! He tried to think whether Ovinia had said if her friend was married or not. "Well, at least some political progress and a likely candidate?" He suggested to her statement that they'd just need a quaestorship and a proposal to go. "Else we'll be waiting till the end of the year. But you could tell father your favoured candidate, and we can disappear whilst he does the boring bits." The negotiations and such. Likely Ovinia wouldn't want to be around whilst she was bought and sold. It was how it was done of course, but Lucius just hoped they could find her a good man. Still, they had a plan and that was good. Ovinia didn't seem to want to let go of the apparent scandal of Tertius having a plebian woman, saying he could sound more interested. "Sorry. Oooh no! The scandal! Whatever shall we do?" He cast his eyes skyward, mouth open, and dragged his hands down his cheeks. "How's that?" He added with a grin, amused that his sister thought it was such gossip. "Well, she probably wouldn't sleep with him, if he didn't give her something. I mean, she is risking pregnancy, and her reputation. She wouldn't do that for nothing, would she?" It made sense to him anyway. Unless Ovinia thought the girl was in love with Tertius, or he with her? Even Estrella had only wanted him for his station. "Father won't let Tertius marry her, you know that. But if you want to check her out, then by all means." He made an expansive gesture. "But you know Tertius won't thank you." Let the poor boy have something. She wanted to know if he had a woman. He shook his head. "Not since I got back." He admitted. "I told you about Estrella. But you know 'Nilla, we're expected to know what to do in bed, when we get married. Imagine if you wed, and your husband had no idea?" Plus men had urges that needed sating. Women were expected to refrain until they wed, and have sex to have children. The holiest of them, the Vestals, refrained all their careers, at the peril of the Empire if they didn't. "But if you want to me to run interference with Tertius whilst you chat to a husband candidate, you just say the word." He knew how hard it was to get any privacy in the domus, that was another reason he wasn't home at every opportunity. He could at least do that for her. @Sara