Sarah

The Bell and Plow was a pretty ordinary pub in a rather less affluent part of town, but it was convenient. It claimed to have been there since the 1600s, when it was a small farming village, and certainly there were enough ancient horse brasses and old pewter tankard hung from the low, blackened beams that it was at least trying to look the part. He did feel that the goggle-eyed taxidermied deer head over the fireplace was going a bit too far. Four days a week he worked at the legal firm where he had a junior partnership, the other he split; morning was appointments and the Veterans support group, afternoon was the legal aid group that worked with a number of local charities, including the women's shelter which was close by. This place was an easy stop on his route between the two, and it did an acceptable plowman's lunch with a surprisingly good relish. He'd not been able to find out what was in it. He was a tall, lean figure in a business suit, brown hair cropped neatly short, tie a fairly boring navy blue. A briefcase sat at his feet and he'd taken a laptop out of it and was reading documentation on it whilst he ate. The only unusual feature was a cane of dark wood hooked onto the edge of the table. He usually sat inside, even though it was sunny today and a lot of people were enjoying the outdoor tables in the beer garden. He preferred the quiet. Sipping his lemonade, he scrolled through the piece of legislation he was reading, looking for the relevant clauses and making notes on his phone. He'd surprised a lot of people when he'd got into law at university, but Spencer felt that being underestimated seemed to be par for the course for him and hadn't let it bother him, or stop him. Even as he made his way through his fresh bread and local, crumbly cheese, he was focused on the necessaries for his next case. @Sara

You flatter me too much, Tiberius. Tiberius blushed slightly and looked away, knowing that what she said was true. "I know." He said quietly. "You're right to chide me." He had promised himself that he would restrain himself, do no more than what a good friend would do. The friend he should be. And yet as soon as he saw her all such promises fled his mind. How did she do that to him? He could hold his own on the floor of the Senate, but somehow in her company he lost all sense. It would have been frustrating, if it wasn't also so enjoyable. Her favourite time of year was spring, when the earth sprang to life and the flowers bloomed. He could imagine her with a selection of spring flowers in her hair, some baby animal in her lap. A young Demeter. Or was she Prosperpine, to be stolen away by Hades as the year declined, and the world mourned. Probably not a good comparison, certainly Tiberius didn't want to see Sosia stolen away, though he knew that she would surely be seeing suitors soon, if she wasn't already. Instead she spoke of the people yearning for good times as the year brightened, and of their growing longing. Longing for what? He almost asked. But he wondered whether he might be able to guess. Or perhaps that was only his imagination, and he'd strayed too far down that path already. So he changed the subject. Was he a coward? Or was he prudent? He wasn't sure. Still, the villa seemed to catch her interest as he pointed it out to her. "I thought it might interest you." He said with a smile, ignoring any possible suggestion that she didn't know enough. She was new to Rome, and he was helping her learn about it. Because that's what a friend would do, show her the parts that might appeal to her. "Both the gardens and the villa belong to the Imperial family; my family." He replied. "We granted Sullust the land, and he built both, but eventually it came back to us, and we made the gardens a public hortus." Not him personally of course, it was before his time. "But the villa we've kept. I'm going to move into it in the new year." He told her, wondering what she might make of the information. Then he grinned. "Then I'll be able to tell you whether or not it's joyful with the gardens at he door; I'm sure it will be." It was one of the things that he liked about the place. @Atrice

At his instruction she jumped up quickly and drew the curtain across the accessway, giving them a modicum of privacy. He didn't expect they'd be very long, if she was any good. There was one way to find out. The smile she wore when she turned back was prettier than any makeup she could have applied; women often underestimated how attractive simply being happy to see them was to a man. And even if she was smiling because she was going to earn some extra coin, he didn't care. It was nice to be smiled at. Despite his usually gruff nature, he returned it faintly, brows rising slightly as she stripped of her tunica. Not really necessary for what he had in mind, but he appreciated the view of her slim form. Not voluptuous, indeed she was a little boney, but her skin was fair and unmarked save for the small scar on her collarbone. She was pretty. With the right artistry she might even be beautiful, and he let his gaze roam over her shape, her small breasts and slight rounding of her hips. He appreciated what he saw, and that faint smile showed it. As did certain other parts of his anatomy. As she knelt down and ran her hands over his thighs again he drew a deep breath and let out a sigh of enjoyment. Such a simple thing, and he hadn't realised how much he'd missed that kind of touch. She glanced up at him, and on impulse he reached out and stroked her hair gently, running his fingers around the side of her face and his thumb across her cheek. His smile turned almost fond. It was an oddly comfortable moment. She might not be the most natural prostitute but Ione clearly knew her business and, having got him suitably aroused, set her hands and then her mouth to his soldier, now standing firmly at attention. The sudden warmth and wetness of her mouth drew a sharp breath from Spurius; damn but she felt good. Her steady rhythm and hands on his thighs were more than effective, his breathing deepened as his excitement did. Gods he'd missed this. He moved his hands back to the arms of his chair to avoid to impulse to grab her head, instead let her do her work. As the tension built he let his head tilt back, giving a few soft, grunting moans on the last few strokes, before suddenly jerking forward as he came. It was a far more spectacular orgasm than when he saw to himself, and he paused there, leaning forward, breathing deeply and waited a moment for his vision to clear. Either she was good or he was very much in need of it, but either way he was more than satisfied. "Thank you." He said, after a couple of moments. Yes, it was her job, but he was feeling very satisfied right now. Leaning back in his chair again, Spurius smiled at Ione, naked and probably hoping for some water, and patted his thigh. "Come here." He said simply, wanting her to sit in his lap. @Sara

Might he and Estrella have been deliriously happy if they'd been allowed to wed? Her because she'd got the rise in society and him because the sex was awesome? Would they have made the marriage work, had chubby babies and lived on an estate in Hispania, happily ever after? They'd never know. No doubt Lucius's Legate thought he was doing the young man - and his father - a favour, and after seeing Estrella latch onto the next hopeful when he disappeared, Lucius believed he saw the wisdom in his Legate's words. So had he ever been in love? Probably not. She'd asked, but as Lucius told his story, Ovinia looked more and more downcast, and that troubled him. He'd hoped his story would help his sister come to the realisation that what she was feeling wasn't what she thought, and bring out the incredibly practical woman he knew she could be, perhaps with a little laugh at the same need to learn and grow that they all went through, himself included. But it didn't. She just seemed to curl in on herself, though she did wrangle a wan smile as she informed him tartly that he sounded like their father when he gave advice. "Well, that makes two of us." He replied, letting any intended offence slide off his slim shoulders. "And last I checked with father I can't retire to the provinces either." So no one was getting what they wanted. He'd always been the least likely of the four siblings to be described as like their father. He'd certainly considered himself to take after their mother, but both sides came through in different ways. Their mother was a good listener, and Lucius listened as Ovinia spoke of how the future she saw laid out before her didn't excite her. But their father was a good strategist, and as he listened he was already thinking about how the issue could be approached in a way that his sister might find more livable. After all, she'd helped him with his issue, probably time to stop being a brat and start returning the favour. "This has really gotten to you, hasn't it?" He asked, with rather more sympathy than he'd shown earlier. much as he might rib her for being silly he didn't like to see her upset, and she'd had several things to be upset about recently. The fire and the attack certainly hadn't helped. "I just don't want you to make some decision you'll regret later." He said simply. "If you hadn't read poetry and listened to your friend, you'd probably have been perfectly happy with Gaius Vipsanius Roscius." Maybe even fallen in love with him. But that was a story that wasn't going to get told. "But father always says that you can't change the past, you can only learn from it." And he was suddenly very businesslike. Some out there were perfectionists and expected everything to meet their expectations - *cough* father *cough* - but Lucius found it far easier to work with what he had, rather than what one thought there should be. "So, given that the man's brother very inconsiderately went off to be a vigile, is there anyone else who's caught your eye?" He asked, perfectly serious, even though it was often hard to tell with Lucius when he was being serious. "It's always better to go to father with a solution rather than a problem, unless you want your problem solved for you, his way." So perhaps they could find a solution that Ovinia could live with. "You said you didn't think you could love Gaius, but have you met anyone you think you could?" If love was what she wanted, and what would make her happy, then they should find it for her. He picked up a piece of bread, pulled a tiny pinch off it, and popped it into his mouth, followed by another. It was an odd thing he'd done since they were children, leading their elder brother to growl 'just take a bite!' at him at least once. @Sara

Varinia's brows rose in surprise at Jannus's revelation. He'd wandered away from his family and a Roman cavalryman had just... picked him up and taken him. In her village, if a legionnaire had even taken an interest in a wandering child he would have deposited them back in the village, but her lands had not been in the process of being conquered. That happened long ago now. She supposed, in war, anyone was considered a possible captive. And now he was here, so far from his home, and from the sound of things with little memory of it. "I'm so sorry. You must have been very young." The thought of having a child wander off and not come back, or even seeing them be scooped up by a soldier and carried off, made Varinia's heart clench in her chest. She'd only had the one child, but even if she'd had ten, she would have mourned the loss of one, especially so young. It had been so hard to be separated from Teutus and he'd been considered a man grown. She felt for Jannus's mother, wherever she was. And she felt for the little boy, now a young man, who had lost her. But Jannus had asked her what her home had been like. "It was beautiful." She told him, grey gaze looking back across the years. "We lived in a great, broad valley, where we herded cattle and made cheese. I used to swim in the little river that ran past our village; you could follow it all the way to the big river where Lutecia is. It was our town before the Romans came, but that was more than one hundred years ago now, and it's much bigger; I only saw it once. But where I lived was quiet, peaceful. You could see the mountains in the distance, topped with snow in the winter. We usually only got frost, and the summers were gloriously warm, with flowers in the grass and bright leaves on the trees. It was very green, and we grew fruit as well. I remember helping my parents and siblings to pick the ripe berries." She smiled shyly, realising she might have said more than he really wanted to know. She didn't often talk about her past. "But I was sold as a young woman. We had several bad years, and the food ran out, and I had a lot of brothers and sisters." Selling her meant buying food for the rest. She'd never forgiven her father, and she still toyed with the idea of asking Teutus if they could take a trip there one day. Inside the shop smelled of wood and oils, shavings and sweat, and all around were arrayed items of furniture in varying states of completeness. Varinia ran her hand along the back of a chair with a particularly fine carving, momentarily distracted, before addressing the shop slave who came forward and explaining that she was there to collect the loom she had ordered. "Did you do any interesting jobs for your last owner?" She asked Jannus whilst they waited. He'd been sold as a runner, but had he done anything else? @Insignia

The crowds pressed back as the Imperial entourage emerged from the gates, and with a deft twist and stamp of her foot, Hilda left Camerinus hopping and cursing. Surely the barbarian woman should be easy to spot, but she had disappeared into the throngs. The retinue moved through the parting of the crowds, some people drifting closer whilst others gave them a wide berth, but always under the wary eyes of the prince's guards. As Hilda closed the distance and began to walk alongside she was given wary looks by both the slaves and the Palatines, but it wasn't until she called out to the young man in their midst that the nearest guard began to take a real interest, lowering the tip of his spear in her direction. Unlike Camerinus, who was happy to waste time and create annoyance to while away the boredom of gate duty, this fellow's expression suggested that he was all business. "Move off!" He snapped at the barbarically dressed woman, and made as though to make his point with the point of his spear. "Stop." The word wasn't loud, but it carried and held a certain gravitas, the authority of someone who was accustomed to being obeyed. The retinue paused, and the slaves parted slightly to allow the man in the purple-edged tunic and snowy toga a better view, without actually making it easy for Hilda to get to him thanks to the spear in her way. He had dark hair and blue eyes, and was a few years younger than the woman herself. "From across the Rhine?" He echoed. That was beyond the Empire's borders, despite their best efforts. She didn't exactly have the trappings of a formal visitation, but Tiberius was quite prepared to see opportunities in unusual places. Sometimes he looked for them. "You speak Latin very well then. Who are your people?" He asked. How far across the Rhine? @Sara

Scare her off? Was she that timid? If she'd grown up in the peaceful Roman countryside perhaps she wasn't accustomed to legionaries and appraised of the obvious appeal of a man in uniform. Oh well. "I can put some twigs in my hair and bring a chicken, would that help?" OK, now he was just being obnoxious. But as a brother and not the eldest, he maintained that was his prerogative. But despite the constant urge to tease or annoy his sister - because she did react so very well - he did appreciate the consideration and the fact that she'd organise the meeting for him. He'd rather at least go to his father with a suggestion, rather than settling for whomever the old man decided was best for the family's fortunes. Oooh, sudden insight? Except that Vipsanius Roscius seemed absolutely perfect. If he'd been a girl, Lucius would have done him in an instant, or so he thought. Maybe he'd think differently if he actually was one, but even Ovinia seemed to realise that the man was pretty hard to beat as he rattled off his virtues and she sunk slowly lower into her couch, finally threatening to throw an olive at him, since she'd run out of cushions, finally glaring at him and drinking her wine. Alas but he wasn't aware of the private little list his sister held that Gaius had failed to meet. I... know, it's stupid. She looked so miserable then, Lucius felt sorry for her. And then she started to talk, to explain in a way, and he listened as perhaps only he might do. Someone, a 'friend', had gotten to her, whether with the idea of love, or the thought that she might love him. Someone had put romantic foolery into her head and, at the time and on the feeling that she'd not be able to love Gaius, she'd rejected him. Hooo boy. Yeah, that was not one to share with their father. But she wanted love, wanted it so much she'd made herself miserable, when she didn't even know what she wanted. 'Sweet' and 'silly' weren't words that Lucius would normally use in association with his frankly canny and organised sister, but he was thinking them now. But he was also thinking practical, very Lucius things. "Well, you know, we all make mistakes." He offered a faint half-smile. "Just, if you're going to make them, try to learn from them, yeah?" Hopefully next time she was offered a good man, she'd take him. Then she asked him whether he'd ever been in love, and that half-smile faded. "I thought I was." He admitted quietly after a moment. He hadn't told anyone in the family, but Ovinia had shared with him... "This doesn't go beyond us." He said, pointing at her with his half-eaten piece of cheese. "But when I first went to Hispania I fell head over heels for this local woman, Estrella, who served at the fort and lived in the vicus." He revealed. "She was gorgeous, flirty, experienced." Everything a young man could want. He waggled his eyebrows suggestively. "After a couple of months I knew she was the one, we had to be together. I went to my Legate and told him I wanted to marry her." Lucius's hazel eyes unfocused as he looked back seven years to when he was only a little older than Ovinia herself. "I thought I was going to get the ear-bashing of my life, and I was ready for that fight, but he just sighed and asked me if I knew she'd been all over Didius Armenius before I'd arrived?" The expression on Lucius's face showed exactly how well that had gone down, the idea that the apparent love of his life was only interested in him because he was of higher social standing than her last lover. "He then told me that it was important to understand the difference between love and lust." He said carefully. "That lust was what I felt for Estrella, and it is what you feel when you see someone attractive and think you want them, but that love grows over time, from knowing someone well, working with them and respecting and admiring what they are." Which had not been what the younger, hormone-fueled Lucius had wanted to hear at all, but the wisdom of his words had become apparent over time. "Then he sent me away to help garrison distant fort for three months." He chuckled, thinking back on how sour he'd been at the time. "When I came back Estrella was attached to someone else." But there had been other pretty things interested in a Roman in an officer's uniform. "So no. I've never been in love, even though I thought I was at the time." He admitted, sipping his own wine. "If I had to guess, I'd say that one could find one's self a lot of misery, searching for love. Better to find someone you're comfortable with, and maybe love will grow." Whatever that meant for each of them individually. Ovinia already knew his criteria; he still wasn't entirely certain on the specifics of hers. Perhaps he never would. "Does that completely fail to answer your question?" He grinned at her. @Sara

Well, that was that then. The tattooed man seemed to have grasped at least the basics of what would be expected of him. If he didn't learn the rest quickly, Lucius had no doubt that his father would make it abundantly clear to him, following by giving Lucius himself an ear-bashing for bringing him into the domus. He might be due the latter anyway, but he'd seen how much the man his father had set to guard Ovinia frustrated her. This guy might be equally frustrating, but at least he'd be fashionable. Even the Imperial Princess had a barbarian fighter for a guard. "Good." He said, accepting the man's acknowledgement before turning to the seller to haggle over the price of the unkempt barbarian. Finally they settled on a price, and the seller removed the board and rope from around the barbarian's neck. Turning back to the barbarian, Lucius regarded him thoughtfully for a moment. "Stand up." He said brusqely. "I own you now. My name in the household is Lucius, but you will call me and any free man in the house 'dominus', and any free woman 'domina', which is respecful from a slave. I'm sure you've heard other slaves say it." Best he learned his manners quickly. "Follow me." Lucius started walking. "Escaped slaves are severely punished or killed, so just don't. You will be caught if you try." He'd already told the man that good service would be rewarded, so there was no need to repeat himself. They passed a stall selling ground pork patties pressed into a cut-open bun filled with cabbage and pickled onions, and Lucius paused and bought two of them. "Here." He handed one of the buns to the slave and bit into the other. The meat was hot and juicy and the onion pickle well spiced. "What did they call you?" He asked around his mouthful, realising the seller had been so eager to make the deal and Lucius so keen to leave that he hadn't asked the man. @Faustus

Valerius was clearly a busy man and though he'd asked Ione to tell her master he'd visit at this time she might have forgotten, or he might have. But he made time for Spurius and that the slaver appreciated. He had a feeling that this could prove to be a profitable business relationship between them. Armenius assured him that he knew what he was doing and Spurius took the man at his word. He'd spoken of the Elysium's former glory, perhaps he'd known the place before the most recent owner. As long as he did good business, that was all that mattered. Asked about his other customers for that particular type of slave, Spurius confirmed he had others including the Domus Venus, which was a bit of a boast but a truthful one. You must have good slaves then. Do they ever sell any back to you? "Some of the best." He assured the brothel owner. "But I deal in a range. I've never had one returned as unsatisfactory," for every slaver had to guarantee their goods, "but if you mean do they sometimes sell them back when they're older or less suitable, yet they do." It was an astute question. "Do you think you'd be interested in a Venus-trained girl, or boy, if one comes into my stock?" It would be a good way to get a well trained prostitute at a fraction of the cost of a younger one, and a good prostitute had more skills than just lying on their back. If Armenius was asking for the reason Spurius assumed he was, he did indeed have a good understanding of how to run, and lift, this brothel.

You know him well? She did. Or she had. She thought she did, but was Tertius still the man she had known? Of that she wasn't certain. He'd certainly been welcoming when she went to visit him, and she felt that they understood each other, but then her son would say something and she'd wonder. And now, suddenly, she was looking at another young man who, in the right light, could have been brother to her son. "I do." She said at last. "I've known him for many years." Though not over the most recent of those years. She hoped that they were now able to bridge that gap at least somewhat. But what was this young man to him? Only one way to find out. "Tertius is father to my son, and I'm wondering whether it's only my imagination that thinks you look an awful lot like him as well?" Please, she silently begged the Gods, let this be a nephew or something. A cousin. Secundus's long lost brat. Not Tertius's; not again. Let him have been able to keep it under his tunic, just for once. Not for her sake, but for his. @Atrice

And that will happen quickly, will it? If I write a letter? The smug grin on Camerinus's face strongly suggested that it wouldn't. But whatever his compatriot's discomfort, he was having fun and could do this all day. The angrier barbarian woman got the funnier she was. Because what I have to say can't wait. "Oh, well, it must be important then." Said Camerinus with all the conviction of someone with a tame whale for sale. Behind him, other members of the Palatine Guard started to open the Palace gates for someone inside, but he was more intent on keeping Hilda out. "So, how many people should I say will die if you don't see the Emperor right now?" He grinned, oblivious to the fact that he could well be the first. Everyone's concern was an emergency in their eyes, and as far as he was concerned very few of them actually were. Caesar dealt with real emergencies, like civil uprisings, food scarcity and potential invasions. If this woman was the forward vanguard of an invading army, he reckoned they were pretty safe. The gates swung wide and a gaggle of people emerged, including another man in the Palatine uniform, and several dressed in the simple manner of high class slaves. In their midst was a slim figure in a toga with heavy purple borders. The two guards before Hilda glanced in their direction, before Camerinus yelled "Make way!" And began to move back, automatically grabbing Hilda by the arm as he did so to prevent her accosting what looked to be the Imperial prince and his retinue. @Sara

As her fingers brushed the skin of his thigh, feather light, he drew a sharp breath, skin tingling. Of course she'd focused on the scar, but it was hard to miss. At least it had missed. She promised she wouldn't speak about the details of it, not that it was the scar itself that was the issue. She might have to say something at some point, just as he expected she would tell her dominus that she'd serviced him as well as his slaves. If she was bringing in more and better quality business, that should please her master and stand her in good stead. The fact that he'd use a prostitute would surprise few, unless they considered his stubborn celibacy a while; the only real surprise was that a man of his means would use one so cheap. But she'd been in his house a while and Spurius found himself comfortable with Ione in a way he wasn't with some random woman he might hire. The fact that she was almost pathetically grateful for what he gave her told him that she'd not risk displeasing him and losing it. Despite her experience, she didn't seem eager to get started, in fact she was oddly hesitant. Would you rather we go somewhere private? You can have me however you wish to. He snorted in amusement. Was she shy? There were plenty of whores who'd have a man up against a public wall if it meant a quick job and coin in their hand. Any lingering modesty only reaffirmed his conviction that Ione was ill suited for the work to which she was put. If she was worried about him, he wasn't. Slaves were as furniture, and whilst he was fond of his and kept them well, he expected them to be both selectively deaf and blind as required, and wasn't worried in the slightest about Cora's singing in the background. He'd heard it all his life, since she'd sung him to sleep as a baby. His father and older brother never understood why he 'd wanted his old nurse and tutor, when they'd have sold them off cheaply for being too old, but they'd been happy to let him take them. No, what held his attention right now was the gentle stroking of Ione's fingers across his thigh. He didn't want to move, he wanted her to touch him. Perhaps it was simply that Ione herself got along with Cora, and didn't want to be seen at work. "Close the door then." He said with a nod to the doorway. "Use your mouth." He didn't really care, though he did laud her attempts at trying for a more extensive service and fee. He just wasn't in the mood for it. It was rare indeed that she'd got this close to him, but he was cautiously open to the idea that some of her services might be suitable for him too. "If you're good, I'll take you upstairs next week." He promised then. Whether he meant good as in well behaved or good at her job wasn't obvious, but he'd had few complaints yet. He could certainly afford to have her come for longer next time. Like most two-story domi, the sleeping quarters were upstairs. Ione had seen where the slaves slept, amongst the store rooms, but on the other side was what would normally be the family's private rooms. Except there was only Spurius. Right now though he was downstairs, tunic up, with a young woman crouched in front of him, her gentle touch arousing his interest more quickly than he'd expected. @Sara

It was the first time Tiberius thought he'd ever seen Jason other than collected and subservient. It was an interesting experience, but it was also a warning. Tiberius had wondered at the wisdom of stripping slaves of their identity and links to their past, of disregarding their learning and skills, and as Jason spoke of honour and being the son of a chief, he understood why it was done. Connections to the past were connections to a time when they were entitled to pride and honour, which his bodyslave no longer was. The young Imperial observed this little display with outward dispassion but inwardly there was a certain amount of concern. It was a situation which needed to be handled with care. "A simple 'no' would have sufficed, Jason." Came the mild rebuke, as Tiberius followed Jason's gaze. A chieftain's son would surely be expected to be able to think through situations and mediate, though he had no idea how young Jason was when he was taken. "Tradition holds that a slave has no heritage, not even a name, and I can see now why that is. In exploring yours, reminding you of it, I have only caused trouble for both of us." He shouldn't have brought Jason to the stables, he could see that now, but he had thought it would be a positive experience. Sometimes the only way to know was to try. Of course he knew what happened to runaway slaves, but it wasn't just not running for fear of death, what he hoped to achieve was slaves not really wanting to run. No doubt many would dream of freedom, but they all had dreams. It was one thing to dream it, and another to do it. It hadn't occurred to Tiberius that he now effectively held Jason's cousin hostage; yet. "Shall we take the horses back to the stables?" Tiberius watched Jason carefully. Usually he addressed his slave with instructions and orders, but here he was still trying to get the measure of Jason, to see how much could be given, and how much had to be withheld. "Or shall we take them down to the river for a run?" Are you going to behave yourself respectfully, or do I need to keep you away from the horses? @Sharpie

Tiberius found himself liking Horatia; certainly he could see what Calpurnius Praetextatus saw in her. She was intelligent, confident and witty. He found himself smiling, amused, even as she made clear her own resources. "I stand corrected." He acknowledged with a mock-bow. "If you accompany him next time your husband attends the palace for Caesar's consillium, I'll arrange to give you access to the library." That would give her a few hours to peruse the scrolls whilst the menfolk debated, if she wished. It was a delicate matter, entertaining the possibility of a future marriage to Horatia's daughter, but she seemed to be taking the idea in good spirits. If it happened it would be some years hence, and much could change in that time, but it didn't hurt to at least consider it now. And Tiberius would admit to himself that he was intrigued to see whether Calpurnia was a similar creature to her mother. "If she's anything like her mother, I know I will enjoy meeting her." He wasn't entirely certain why many men seem to disregard women except as mothers and home makers; many of those whom he'd spoken with were intriguing individuals in their own rights, and no doubt forces to be reckoned with, within their own spheres. As though to assuage, or humour, his curiosity, Horatia went on to describe her daughter, in words that only left him more curious. "I have not had the pleasure of meeting the Consul's mother."He admitted. "Perhaps I'll have the pleasure at your son's celebration?" There might well be a lot of the family there. Including Sosia, which could be interesting, but if there was any awkwardness then he could only blame himself and would have to manage it. Hopefully not. Still, her description didn't daunt him. "I know all about women with iron cores; I was raised with one." He said, half hoping that description never found it's way back to his twin. "But I'm afraid that, out of myself and Titus - that is, Caesar Titus Alexander - I'm the quiet one." The boring one, the bookish one. Titus was the popular fellow, though he should still probably refer to him formally in company. That popularity was just one reason why he made a much better Caesar. "The next Ides it is." He would make it so. Horatia had a whole family to organise and didn't need to be worrying about one Imperial guest. "I shall look forward to it." @Sara

She admitted that she would have found the needle and thread she'd needed elsewhere, had she not been able to buy it. Well and good. Hopefully that meant she would think in the future, instead of spending her coin simply because she had it. But even as she thought about it, he could see her brightening up again. Hope, that most precious of gifts. Yes, he could have bought her outright and set her free, but he was no charity. What he could give her was ways to change her own situation, and it was clear that she was listening. "If you're a bad dancer, you can only get better." He pointed out, unaware that she'd been about to offer him further services. He'd covered his leg automatically, almost ridiculously self-conscious about the injury, for reasons that were invisible to others yet for him felt like they were tattooed there alongside the ugly scar. He was more focused on the problem she'd presented, oddly intrigued by it. It felt surprisingly good to be able to offer some advice. "Or if not dancing, then other ways to entertain. Things that will attract customers with more money to spend, and to give you." Not dirty bakers' sons who paid an as for the privilege of jumping atop her. Freedom had a host of further implications, and he asked if she'd thought what she would do, by which he meant had she even considered how she would earn enough coin to live somewhere and not starve. She answered with her dreams. Marriage, children, a house of her own. Don't we all? He thought bitterly. Then she seemed to drift closer to reality, talking about earning money selling things for a potter, or working as a masseuse. It was a big, scary world out there and going from daughter in her father's house to slave hadn't given her much chance to experience it. But she was suddenly so optimistic again, chuckling in sharp contrast to her previous silence. It seemed much more her nature. Then she sighed, and made an offer which drew a whole host of reactions from Spurius. He was amused at the un-subtle direction of her glance, impressed that she was already thinking of ways to attract more custom - if that was her intent - and even slightly flustered, because it had been a very long time since he'd last hired a prostitute for himself. Then there was the pile of angst, regret and anger that surrounded the reason why he hadn't hired one; he could still hear the last girl's laughter. At the same time, the sudden immediacy of possible intimacy with someone other than himself drew a degree of longing he hadn't expected. He wanted to be touched, not just there but generally, to be held affectionately. But not laughed at. Never again. He looked at the young woman who'd become an odd weekly fixture in the house. Even over the last couple of months she had changed, was no longer quite the starving waif she had been, though hardly a voluptuous Venus. I would like to marry, to have children. Gods, wouldn't they all? I wish I could repay the kindness. If ever there was a woman unlikely to laugh at him, perhaps it was the one crouched before him. He nodded slightly and hitched the fabric of his toga right up. "If you would." The scar ran right up his thigh on the diagonal and into the crease between his leg and his groin. The weapon hadn't hit his manhood, but it had clearly been a close thing, and from the width of the scar there the wound had been deep. Despite her earlier ministrations, or perhaps because of the pain in his leg, his soldier was showing only slight interest. "You don't discuss the details of my injury with anyone." He said firmly. "You can say that it's a sword wound to the leg." He added, remembering his own rule that it was important to tell a slave what they could do, rather that just what they couldn't. That information was true and all that was necessary. @Sara

"I suppose you need to keep tabs on which gladiators might have got injured during a fight." Spurius mused as he hobbled his way up the street. Some people took a great deal of interest and enjoyment from the bloodsports, but whilst he sold quite a few slaves to the ludii, he'd always viewed the way so many of them were killed as a waste. Still, it kept him in business. Theo's point about the amphitheatre made Spurius smile faintly though. "It is, isn't it?" He said, as though only just coming to this realisation. "I guess, having grown up in Rome, I take much of that sort of thing for granted." Even though he had been abroad - all the way to Britannia - Rome was just home and almost everything in it had been there since he'd been a child old enough to run around the streets, scrawl things on walls of ancient stone and play games in the shadows of other men's monuments to immortality. For a moment he looked around them at the buildings in the light of the torches, the sky shading pink to purple overhead, trying to imagine what it was like to see them for the first time. "Perhaps it's good to see the place with new eyes." The woman he'd randomly met - literally bumped into, or rather been bumped into by - was clearly quite the singular individual, if Theodorus recognised her by that description alone. And he knew her. You like her? Spurius snorted. "'Like' might be too strong a word." He said dryly. "You'll forgive me for having a habitual dislike of Britons." Even if it was mostly habit by now. "But she was surprisingly interesting to talk to. Smarter than I would have guessed, but I supposed you need brains as well as brawn to be a good gladiator." And you'd need to be tough, which Theodorus assured him the gladiatrices generally were. "I've watched them often enough, but I don't think I've ever really spoke to one. I might have to rethink some of my preconceptions." Again that dry tone. Spurius had no problems recognising the irony. "Do you know her?" Clearly Theo knew of her, but Spurius wondered whether he actually knew the woman personally. @Chevi

He seemed like such a bright and carefree young man, warm and interested in what she had to say, which was a rarity for a woman who'd spent her life as a slave. It made Marcus's company very enjoyable, even if they were a bit of an odd pair. But that was part of what Saturnalia was all about. Varinia's achievements and celebrations were, in the grand scheme of the Empire, very small things, but she treasured them. Surely someone born to the Empire's upper echelons would have many things to celebrate? But as he glanced away and his smiled faded, she realised with a sinking feeling that her light-hearted question hadn't proven the opportunity to count their blessings that she had hoped. Rather the young man across from her suddenly looked rather lost. She watched him throw back his wine and stare into the cup morosely. "I'm sorry Marcus." She said, reaching across to squeeze his hand. "I assumed that a charming and well bred young man like yourself would have much to celebrate." Whilst one could suggest that one who was a member of the Patrician classes could surely have little to complain about, perhaps it just went to show that people from all classes had problems and disappointments, and that they really were equal before the Gods, as this celebration intended. And much as she would love to be able to fix things for him, whatever the problem was, she was pretty certain that whatever troubled a young Patrician would be beyond her means to remedy. Perhaps distraction was better. "A future is always worth celebrating. 'Do not begrudge getting older, there are many who are denied the privilege'." She quoted, unsure who'd originally said them, but certain they were wise words. "So what's your next step? Are you doing the..." she waved her hand, searching for the words, "the cursus honorum?" That was it. Secundus and Tertius had done it. @Atrice

Am I a muse then, perhaps? His poem was a bit clumsy, written on the fly, but Sosia didn't seem to mind. In fact she seemed to enjoy it, smiling and blushing adorably. The colour in her cheeks made her look so warm and pretty, compared to the cold winter's day. "You must be, you inspire me so." He replied, rather liking the thought of Sosia as his muse. "I'd believe you're a goddess, incarnate." He added with a whisper as they moved through the gardens. Ah, but which muse? There were a great many named over time, each with their own personal focus. Perhaps she could just be his. Tiberius's entourage gave them a respectful distance, but they were definitely not alone. The young Imperial told himself it was for the best, especially for her sake, however much he might want to be alone with her again. If there was one thing that had been drummed into him from a young age it was that he existed to serve, and not to use his influence for selfish reasons. Never before had it seemed a burden. "Beauty can wither." He agreed. "Or it can change, like a garden in the seasons." He was of course thinking of the garden as a metaphore for a person. Some people lost their beauty, in others it matured. And he was of the opinion that beauty wasn't only in one's appearance. But she asked if he had a favourite season. "I do enjoy summer." He said. "The hot weather when everyone seems to slow down a little bit and just enjoy life." Because it was too hot to get over excited about things. "Do you have a favourite?" He asked in turn, interested. Further into the gardens the manicured paths wound between the carefully tended plantings, and between some of the bushes and trees a stone wall was visible, and beyond it a tiled roof with fancy, painted finials on the peaks and corners. Tiberius pointed it out. "Did you know that there's a villa as part of these gardens?"He asked. It seemed like a simple question. @Atrice

The quiet of winter had changed the household's routines due to the change in Teutus's business practices, but Varinia had adapted to it. In some ways the winter lull reminded her of the lifestyle growing up in northern Gaul, where snow would make many activities impossible in the winter, and the household spent much time inside. In some ways this felt much the same, and she actually enjoyed it. Plus it meant she had more time with her son. Their simple ientaculum of bread and oil had been cleared away, the morning chores seen to by herself and Persephone, the boys sent off on errands, mostly to get them out of the house. Olipor tended to gravitate as close to her cook fire as he dared because of the cold, so she'd given him a pot to stir. All was well, and at last she had the opportunity to do something she'd really been looking forward to. Her first loom had arrived, a simple warp-weighted loom, which was a good way to start. She'd put in an order for a two-beam loom but had been told that there was a significant wait for the more complex item. In the meantime this would do nicely. She had skeins of wool all spun and ready, so she was now winding out the warp, which involved using a few items of furniture, and her son's arm, as points around which to wind the strands. They had to be a certain length for the cloth, plus the extra to tie to the loom beam and the weights, and in this small apartment that meant there was soon a maze of string around everything as she measured and wound. Sitting where he'd been told and keeping the tension taught, Teutus was watching her work and keeping her company. He spoke quietly as they chatted back and forth. Charis came by over Saturnalia... I invited her to dinner in a week or so. Just her, and her baby. Varinia looked up and smiled. "It would be good to see them." She said warmly, before focusing on the wool in her hands again. "Let me know which day, and I'll get something special for cena." She told him, thinking that it would be nice to see Charis again, and her darling little boy of course. Being in much the same situation as Varinia had been, all those years ago, she had a lot of fellow feeling for the younger woman. @Sharpie

Of course she'd spent it. He'd known the answer before he'd asked. Those who had so little made use of what they had. And he'd given her the money to spend, after all. Told her to replace her lamp. And then she'd bough a needle and some thread. Such simple things, but they meant that the money was now gone. A better owner and more valued occupation might be achievable, but they would require the acquisition of skills that she didn't have. And the fact was that someone had to do the whoring. Some women seemed to enjoy it, but the very thing that had first attracted his attention to Ione was the fact that she didn't look like she belonged at the Elysium. "If you hadn't had the coin, how would you have got the needle and thread?" He asked, almost gently, encouraging her to think. "It's easy to spend money when we have it." Or at least it was if you knew no better. Many didn't. Her father, for instance. "If you truly want to save for your freedom, get yourself a jar, maybe a chamber pot for under the bed, something others won't look in. Put every single coin you get in there, and then forget about the coin. Imagine you don't have it, so hard that you believe it. Get your needle and thread from wherever you would, if you had no coin at all. Then one day you will look in your pot and you will have the money." It did occur to him suddenly that giving financial advice to a slave and a prostitute was more than a little ridiculous, but she was doing wonders for his leg which was making him feel far more generous than he had been earlier. In fact, the skin and muscles of his leg were getting a little sore from her ministrations, but in a good way because that was the worst of the pain, a vast improvement. "You can stop now. That's better." He told her. It was. He was a little surprised at how much better. "So you can do more than whore." He pointed out. "If you'd increase your value, you could do something like take your coin to the baths and pay a worker there to teach you how to do massage well. Learn to sing, even dance. Focus on skills that will earn you more money. There's a Freedwoman who was a slave at the Domus Venus and is now too expensive for most to afford." She did still earn a lot of her money on her back of course. If Ione wanted a full career change, that could be more difficult. He flicked the fabric of his toga back over his leg. "Have you considered what you would do, how you would live, if you were free?" He asked. Many slaves wished for freedom, few seemed to realise how scary having full responsibility for one's self could truly be. Freedom to do as one pleased included the freedom to starve to death in a cold gutter somewhere. @Sara

She'd asked him her price, presumably because she wanted his professional opinion. Buying and selling slaves was what he did for a living. So that was what he gave her, tallying her up as he would any slave in his stock. She seemed to take it well enough, even playfully pointing out her ability at massage, until he named her price, and her hands stilled. Large eyes looked up at him, wide with what looked like shock. Was she so surprised? Had she thought she'd be worth more? She was a fairly cheap slave, there were many like her, but there were also many worse. Or was it something else? There was a long moment when she seemed unable to answer his simple question, and he almost snapped at her to bring her out of it, when his leg did the work for him, muscles spasming again. She seemed to remember what she was doing, attacking his leg with enthusiasm and he leaned back in his chair, enjoying the way her efforts were slowly unknotting the offended muscles. She was actually quite good at it. Every slave wants to imagine a life when they're not a slave. Ah, she wanted to know what her price would be, so she could buy herself. Even as she explained, hands kneeding, she seemed to curl in on herself, looking tired and weary in contrast to her chirpiness of only a few moments ago. Experienced slaver, Spurius recognised that look; a slave who had lost hope or anything to live for. It could be the end of any kind of life for them, as poor work led to poor masters and even poor health. She was awfully young too. She worked in silence, but after a few moments he began to speak again. "As a slave, if you want a better life you have two real options." He said calmly, as though giving a lecture at a grammaticus instead of to a woman rubbing his leg. "Either save enough to buy your own freedom, or become valuable enough to attract a good master who treats you well." He droned on, having previously found the tone calming on, for example, children who were slaves and suddenly sold away from their parents or previous home. Calm slaves were preferable. "The two are opposite paths; if you want to buy yourself you want to have as little value as possible, without being sold into a worse situation. To become valuable and attractive to better owners, you acquire more skills and find opportunities to showcase them." But that wasn't Ione's stated aim. "In order to purchase yourself, you want to save every single coin that comes into your possession, and do all that you can to attract extra coin from your customers." Which given that she was already a prostitute, might not leave much. "What did you do with the sestertius I gave you last week?" He asked gently, suspecting that it had probably been spent. She'd had a lamp to replace after all. @Sara

Tiberius was feeling conflicted. On the one hand he wanted to share his thoughts and concerns with his friend, on the other hand he didn't want to do anything to risk the reputation of the girl who'd captured his heart in a way no one else had, and whom he knew his chances of marrying were slim. He wanted to be able to talk it over, but even though he'd trust Marcus with his life, it was hard to trust him with Sosia's. But Marcus was a good friend, even if the two young men were like chalk and cheese. Almost breezily he agreed to arrange for the two prostitutes to visit the household, so that his recommendation Vibia could show Tiberius what he needed to know. Little did the Imperial realise that Marcus might have wished he'd recommended someone else and kept Vibia for himself. Of course, there was always the future. Crossing one of the rooms, Marcus paused to look out the window at the view over the gardens, seeming suddenly thoughtful. Tiberius glanced at the slaves and guard who had followed them. "Leave us." He said simply, and the two were suddenly alone, footsteps fading down the hallway outside, though there would be someone within calling distance. He came to stand beside Marcus. "Nice view, isn't it?" He said quietly. It really was. He'd seen the inside and been quite taken with the place. It would be very comfortable for both of them. At least, he hoped it would. "You can move in now." He told Marcus, and that little smirk appeared again for a moment. "I already have. But I wanted to get things set up a bit before I showed it to you." He really had wanted it to be a fun surprise for his friend. Then his smile faded It was Tiberius's turn to glance out the window and sigh gently, thinking of another view, a night time one, and other company. "You can't tell anyone Marcus." He said simply. "I kissed her whilst we were standing on the portico, and she welcomed it." It was a very fond memory. "The Gods know I'd like more, but I won't ruin her reputation. She doesn't deserve that." No one did, of course. However much he might want to do more with her. And he really did want to do more with her, except he didn't really know what. But that was the point of his request to his friend. Then at least he'd know. @Atrice

PUBLIUS HORATIUS JUSTINUS 42 | 14 October 35 | Senatore | Senator and Soldier | Heterosexual | Wanted | Daniel Craig Personality The epitome of a the Patrician Roman male, Publius is the eldest of his siblings and raised to one day lead the family. He is dutiful and takes his responsibilities seriously, and expects others to do the same. From a young age he was both leader and mediator of his siblings and those skills grew and flowered as he grew and were honed by his education and experience in the cursus honorum. A true military man, Publius's leadership abilities shine through in the way that he inspires his men, and his sharp mind and excellent grasp of tactics have allowed him to lead them to numerous victories. He's acceptably accomplished politically but his heart lies with the military, where the order, discipline and clear expectations suit him perfectly. He expects the same level of discipline and organisation in his own household, but can show a relaxed, even playful side in the company of his brother or close friends. Behind that discipline and perfectionism Publius is a passionate man, but it's a side that few ever get to see. Whilst quite exacting and something of a perfectionist - in a way that can at times make him rather demanding and controlling - he is devoted to his family, and particularly the upbringing of his children since the death of his wife, whom he still mourns deeply. But as long as his house is well kept and those he loves are safe, Publius is quite content with his life and the opportunity to keep doing the work he enjoys, even if he can overwork himself at times. He is not one to leave things undone that need doing. Appearance Of average height for a Roman man, Publius is never the less a fairly impressive physical specimen, as he maintains a soldier's physique. His skin is more sun-weathered than that of many men of his class, due to his military career and time spent outdoors, but his striking blue eyes are what draws the attention. He keeps his dark blonde hair cropped short and dresses in quality clothing appropriate for a man of his political stature, or his military uniform if he can possibly get away with it. Family Father: Marcus Horatius Justinius Mother: Livia Calavia (d. 61AD) Siblings: Horatia Justinia, Livia Justinia, Lucius Horatius Justinius Spouse: Lucia Gaia (d. 75AD) Agape (mistress in Achaea, 76AD) Children: Spurius Horatius Justinus (b. 61 AD, 16 yrs old), Lucia Justina (b. 65 AD, 12 yrs old) Secundus Horatius Justinus, stillborn 75AD with Lucia Gaia Agapios (b. 76AD, 1 year old, illegitimate) with Agape Extended family: Gaius Horatius Justinus (cousin), Horatia Sosia (cousin), Aulus Calpurnius Praetextatus (brother in law), Calpurnia Praetextata (sister in law?) Other: History 35 AD: Publius was born, highly anticipated and the first child of his parents. Being destined from birth to be his father's heir meant Publius was both highly valued and heavily pressured to be his best from a young age. His father was very traditional and so had high expectations from his oldest son. Whether he was learning history and languages or swordplay and strategy, Publius understood his father's expectations of perfection and strove to meet them. Naturally, this had a pronounced effect on the boy's personality, making him quite serious, stoic, and rather obsessed with perfection. 42 AD: At the age of seven, Publius was suddenly no longer an only child, when Horatia came along. Publius was moved to an almost fatherly love of her, wanting to protect and coddle her. Soon enough, in 48 AD, two more children came along, Livia and Lucius, and Publius found himself becoming the leader of the pack (although an altogether strict and protective leader). Whenever arguments broke out among the younger ones, Publius was the de facto peacemaker. He didn't mind the role, though - in fact, he blossomed under it, proving himself to be a natural leader. Throughout his childhood, Publius and the rest of the family followed their paterfamilias around the empire as he served in the military. This life suited Publius well, as he found a growing fascination with the military. 46 AD: when Publius was eleven, the family spent a year in Germania. Publius loved watching the precise lines of soldiers as they marched, the flash of their swords as they trained. The boy knew that this was how he wanted to live his life - in the military. There were several more moves throughout the rest of his childhood, most particularly one to Hispania in 50 AD, when he was 15. During these moves, Publius continued his education, distinguishing himself as a dutiful student as well as a clever mind, one fit for military strategy. 52 AD, the family returned to Rome, and in 53, Publius turned 18 and began the Course of Honor by joining the military. He truly shone here, in the military, where he was able to perfect his leadership skills as well as his military mind. He served for five years in Germania, rising swiftly through the ranks though his excellent discipline and leadership. These skills earned him an appointment to Achaea as a Tribune in 58. There, moving among the circles of Greek society in his spare time, he met a girl named Lucia Gaia for whom he fell head over heels and courted for some time before she accepted his marriage proposal. The two were married in 59 AD. Also during his time in Greece, he met his dear friend Aulus Calpurnius Praetextatus, with whom he is still good friends and who also married his sister in 60 AD. 61 AD During the beginning rumblings of civil war his mother was killed in a riot. Like any child who's lost a mother, Publius grieved his mother - but like a man, and moreover a military commander, he maintained a stiff upper lip and vowed to do his part to end the civil war. A few months after the death of his mother, his son was born. 62 AD Publius served with Caesar in the East before returning to Rome to quell rebellious groups there. 65 AD his wife bore him another child, this time a girl. But he was soon back to war, unable to spend as much time with them as he would have liked. Eventually, the civil war ended, leaving Quintus Caesar the leader of Rome, and leaving Publius glad he'd chosen the right side. But after so many years serving in the military, the man was ready to settle down and have some quiet years with his children and his wife. He returned to the newly peaceful Rome and began his work as a senator, which he was capable at and yet not altogether as successful at as military life. Over the next few years, Publius would switch between serving in the military and serving in the senate, about a year of each at a time, allowing him to spend more time with his family. Publius and Lucia were keen to add to their brood, but after their two initial children, she suffered several miscarriages, and Publius began to accept that his family was complete, though he never gave up hope they'd have another son. 75AD Lucia finds that she is pregnant again, and this time the pregnancy proceeds, much to both her and Publius's delight. So he is absolutely devastated when she begins to experience troubling symptoms late in the pregnancy and their infant son is born dead, his beloved wife dying shortly afterwards. It was all Publius could do not to curse the Gods themselves for taking his wife from him, or curse himself for not taking a slave to his bed instead of risking her in another pregnancy. He'd always loved her, and suddenly he was alone. 76AD Publius stands for and achieves a Quaestorship in Achaea, having fond memories of his past posting there and need to get away from Rome, and takes both his children with him. There, as well as his treasury duties, Publius involves himself heavily in the military, particularly the frontier forts, lending his tactical expertise to help improve their preparation against possible attacks. The posting allows him to ignore the question of re-marrying for the moment, as he can't think of anyone in that role besides Lucia (though if ever he would find another like her, surely it would be back in her home province). He hires a local woman Agape to manage his household and ends up taking her to his bed. It is when Agape gives birth to a child towards the end of the year that Publius realises he needs to return to Rome, for the sake of his family. He purchases Agape a home and makes arrangements to send her a regular peculium for the raising and education of his son, but does not openly acknowledge the child. 77AD Publius returns to Rome with his son and daughter. Sarah | AEST (GMT+10) | Discord @Gothic

People often underestimated Lucius. His laid back attitude and lack of conventional ambition made him seem like just another spoiled Senator's son, content to spend his stipend on women and wine and do nothing much with his life for as long as he could get away with. Except that Lucius didn't drink any more than was usual, and whilst he enjoyed women he didn't indulge in whores to any great extent. Content to go where he was directed, he often struck people as friendly, entertaining but otherwise a bit of a non-event. And he was quite content to have it that way, it meant less trouble for him. Plus there were certain advantages to people not realising that, as an Ovinii-Camilli, he was heir to certain innate politics talents, and was far more observant than people often gave him credit for. Still, using those abilities on his sister was perhaps a little harsh, if done with the best of intentions. He certainly didn't think he was reading the situation wrong, not at all, and credited her protest with a raised eyebrow, a silent am I? and reached for a piece of cheese. But Ovinia also had intentions for him. "She sounds sweet." He admitted, if what his sister said was true. "And a woman who isn't itching to be the next Consul's wife would be nice." He could imagine his sister being that woman, pushing her husband to greater political achievements. Paired with the right man she would make a great ally. And she was already planning the next step. Truly, if she had power or he had drive, they could almost be dangerous. "I dare say I can conveniently be home." Lucius agreed, quite happy to be complicit in his sister's plotting. "I'll let you know when I need to be out, and you can pick anything outside those times that works for you two." He had military duties and to his Legate, but otherwise he was hers. "Do you think it might impress her if I conveniently arrive home in full armour?" Like he had that day. He had no idea what this country girl might look for in a man, but he wanted to start with a good impression. Ovinia was absolutely right; one fared much better with their father if one presented him with solutions rather than problems. Truly, it was fortunate that there were no sharp objects within easy reach, else Lucius's life might have ended in that moment, judging by the look on his sister's face. Why? He gave her a really? look. "Lets see. He's pater familias, he's never been married and has no sons so you'd be mother to his heir and the future pater familias. He's already a Quaestor, so he has political ambition, and with you at his side I'm sure he could go even further. He's not known to have a temper or any vices, and if his brother's cute he must be at least somewhat attractive." They were the same stock after all. "And you don't know why you rejected him." Which was perhaps the most important point in his eyes. "Except possibly for the crime of not being someone else." He amended. Then he shrugged. "But I only asked the question. 'No' is an answer." And if she wouldn't reconsider even though Lucius, oblivious to the details, thought she was mad, then that was that. Another family trait tended to be stubbourness. "I'll have to see if any of my friends have nice arms and a good jawline." Yeah OK, maybe he wasn't quite ready to let that one go, but he would absolutely see if there was anyone else out there who was good enough for his sister. @Sara

Tiberius could hear the bitterness in his friend's voice. Jason had become part of the furniture like all good slaves as the young Imperial focused on Marcus and what he might possibly do for him. "I'm sorry." He said sincerely. "I know what it is to grow up without a parent." Though in his case he'd had two excellent adoptive fathers whilst never having known the man who actually fathered him. But he barely remembered his mother. He wished he'd known his real parents; they were both formidable forces in politics, and he liked to think that they loved him. But that was for another time. "I ask because of Augustus's inheritance laws." He began to explain, smoothing out the parchment in front of him, which was titled Lex Julia et Papia Poppaea. "He put in place a lot of laws to encourage the growth of the Roman population; I'm sure you're familiar with the tax placed on those who remain celibate" to encourage them to marry, "and the jus trium liberorum." Which granted additional freedoms to citizens who had three children or freedpeople who had four. "These were amended somewhat with the addition of the Lex Papia Poppaea," he pointed to the title of the scroll "and these laws also covered inheritance." Which was the important part. And yes he was taking a little while to work up to it but he felt that it was important that Marcus understand the legal background. "The part that I wanted to show you is here." He ran his finger down the scroll till he found the spot, then pulled over his wax tablet where he'd made notes. "Where it says that a celibes may not receive a hereditas or legatum, unless he wed within one hundred days of the death of the testator." He explained. "There's further details; basically man who is unwed and has gotten no heir cannot receive an inheritance. If a man is married but has got no heir, he can receive half of the inheritance, and if he has wed and has an heir, he receives the whole of the inheritance." He paraphrased, cutting out the legalese. "If the inheriance cannot be received then it becomes caducum; it belongs to the Empire." Tiberius gave Marcus a frank look before he reached for another wax tablet. He hadn't wanted to show Marcus until he had all the information. "However, there is precedent both for special arrangements being made where the natural heir is a minor and no other heir is specified, and for heirs petitioning for and successfully receiving their inheritance, once they meet the requirements of Augustus's laws." He set the tablet down again. "So you see why I cannot yet receive my inheritance." Though at least in his case his adopted fathers had made arrangements to hold it for him. "So my next question is; is your brother married?" @Sharpie@Atrice