Liv

Oh. So it was. One of the many jokes that simply flew over Safinia, but at least Marcellus was kind enough to let her know of it. "There's a lot of jokes I don't get," she commented with a one-armed shrug, but did not dwell on it. Best to let him know several attempts at humour were lost in her, in case Marcellus was the jokester type. "I don't know about that, they're so spoilt." Stupid greedy horses, if she didn't keep an eagle eye on the pantry there wouldn't be any apples for the humans. "I don't think they like me. I sure don't like them," she muttered, looking about to make sure nobody overheard that particular bit. At least one of the beasts didn't like Marcellus either, and although the bite was healing it still looked quite nasty. Safinia examined it from where she sat, frowning and shaking her head. "Why did it bite you? Was it because you didn't give it an apple? I'd think the horses were used to you." And to the other charioteers as well, but maybe not all. Or it could have been a new horse, still nervous about its new stable. Bloody beasts. "Well, then you should lie and say you got it in a fight. Protecting a pretty woman from bandits or something. Every girl falls for that," she nodded with conviction. Then again, thanks to his occupation and looks, Marcellus didn't really need to go out and charm the ladies - they would flock to him of their own accord, excited to get close to a famous charioteer. Safinia told him as much, only in not so many words. "Didn't you already get attention from the women, anyway?" @Echo

Livia game a noncommittal hum in response to the body slave's polite question, being far more interested in unveiling the mystery behind the missing silphium. If Aglaea claimed she had checked that the amount was right, she had no reason to doubt her - but that still didn't explain why there was barely anything left. She shook her head in confusion, entirely at a loss. "I don't understand. It's the second one, too." The first could have been a mistake, but it happening twice in a row spoke of intent. A new possibility formed in her mind and Livia blanched, her heartbeat suddenly much louder in her eardrums. "Do you think somebody could be stealing it?" she asked in a quivering murmur, wondering who would have the gall to go through her things. It was almost always Aglaea who attended to her, and when she was unavailable, it was usually a curly-haired girl who tended to do a poor job at it. Minerva help her, if the silly young thing had been fooling around and skimming off her mistress's drug, Livia would have her whipped until the skin fell in flakes off her back! Before she could voice her suspicions, however, the familiar tones of her husband telling off a slave sounded nearby, and with shaky hands she quickly covered the pot again and shoved it back into the depths of a small chest, closing it in such a hurry that she didn't notice the lid on the pot shook and slid off. Great, just what she needed - quite possibly the slave Secundus had just barked at offered no challenge, so any minute he would come in to berate Livia instead for the gods knew what. A rehash of that dreadful party, perhaps. Eyes flitting between the doorway and Aglaea, Livia attempted to calm herself, breathing in and out through her nose a few times. "I need you to go buy more as soon as possible," she whispered again, "and make sure it's the right quantity!" She really didn't want any more surprises of the kind. @Echo @Járnviðr

Another utterly ordinary day, or so Livia thought when she woke up. The small mercy of being in Rome instead of their villa in Tibur was swiftly counteracted by the thousand eyes she felt Secundus had set upon her to control her every move. There were no shackles round her hands or feet, but Livia felt as trapped inside the domus as fresh slaves at the market, uneasy and jittery. Still, it was hardly any different from any other day, and with the same resignation as the day before, and the day before that, and the day before that, she pulled back the covers, swung her legs over to the side of the bed and stood up, stretching her arms over her head in a rather unfeminine way - but nobody was watching, so nobody could reproach her. Just as she brought her hands into a small basin to wash her face a figure came into the room, and a quick glance from behind waterlogged eyelashes told her it was Aglaea. Just in time to start getting ready for the day, Livia thought with a small smile. Having been together for so long, she felt Aglaea knew her routines better than soldiers knew their formations. "Good morning," she greeted airily, wiping her face on a towel and throwing it on the floor after a few rubs. Getting dressed, having her hair styled, putting make-up and jewellery on... The ordinary regimen of a well-to-do matron. That morning, however, there was something Livia wanted to take care of before doing anything else, lest yet another person - in whom she did not have nearly as much trust - enter the room. With decisive gestures she opened one of the vanity's many small compartments and took out a small round silver pot, about as high as the length of a finger. Inside were a few dried bits of a fragrant herb, its smell reminiscent of fennel. The scent would vanish soon enough, when Livia applied some perfume... but that was not what concerned her. She removed the lid and beckoned Aglaea to come closer. Inspecting the contents of the box with a frown, Livia handed it to Aglaea, practically shoving it under the other woman's nose, and spoke in a low whisper. "It's the second time it runs out before it should. Did you check before leaving the apothecary that they did not short you?" @Járnviðr @Echo

Had it been any other slave than Aglaea to address Livia with such impolite manners, they would find themselves on the market the very next day. As it was, she let her body slave hold her arm and said nothing of the thinly-disguised manoeuvre to both direct and steady her; in fact, she was secretly appreciative of it. It had not really felt like she had drunk that much wine while she had been sitting down, but standing up had revealed the truth of her imbibing. "Yes, it's getting late. I do not wish to stay where I'm not wanted," she stated with a huff, smoothing the front of her stola. She stood as impassively as she managed, swaying only a little before righting herself against Aglaea's arm, and kissed the air by Horatia's face with a loud smooch, rolling her eyes at her sister's words. Peace was nowhere to be found. She did not even know where to start looking for it, and as Livia returned her sister's unflinching gaze with a hard stare of her own, she concluded it was not hiding anywhere around Horatia. "So you will," Livia retorted in the guise of goodbyes, and with short steps exited the room, as much dragging Aglaea as she was leaning on her. @Echo @Sara ____________________ Wrap?

The shock value Livia had been going for was there, much to her delight, and she broke out into peals of childish laughter whilst Horatia and the slave digested her words. The look on their faces had been priceless, but her sister's reaction had also let Livia know that despite her pretty words, there was a line Horatia would not cross, not even for family. And then she wondered why Livia was so little forthcoming with sharing news, she thought with shrewd bitterness. Ah well - should the day for such an act come, she knew where not to seek any comfort. When the laughter had subsided just enough for her to get in a few deep breaths in, Livia shook her head, looking amused. "Oh Horatia, you should have seen the look on your face!" She put down her cup and brought a hand up to her chest, still giggling at random intervals. "It was a joke. A joke," she emphasised, prolonging the word as if explaining a difficult concept to a child. "Do you really believe I would do something like that? After what I just said?" Her tone took on an edge of hurt, and she looked at Horatia with what was a good impression of pain shining in her eyes. "If I won't divorce him because of what that would do to everybody's reputation, what makes you think I would risk my life to end his? Do you really think me that stupid?" She picked up her cup again and downed it in one go, setting it down with a loud 'clunk'. "I grew old, that's what happened," Livia replied with finality. Old and miserable. And likely to remain that why for many years, save for a few moments of fleeting pleasure. Tracing the rim of the cup with her finger, she gave Horatia a morose glance before spotting Aglaea's familiar form entering the room, which made her break into a wobbly smile. "There you are! My sister tires of me, she does not appreciate my sense of humour!" She exclaimed in a plaintive tone, rising from her seat at the same time. The movement made her dizzy for a second, but soon enough the world had righted itself. @Echo @Sara

Livia let out an indignant sound at her sister's prepotency, conveniently forgetting that Horatia was in her own home and she was but a guest steadily wearing out her welcome. Where did she get off policing her drink? Narrowing her eyes at Horatia, she let the servant fiddle with the wine, but gave a cheeky retort of her own as her cup was refilled with the watered-down drink. "Add more honey to your mistress's wine, it seems its bitterness is seeping into her." She voiced the command without breaking eye contact with her sister, leaving the slave in a pickle as to whether the order should be obeyed or not. But that was not Livia's problem, was it? She made a show of sipping at the wine, as demurely as a teenage girl, while inwardly seething over the perceived grievances Horatia had inflicted on her. If she hadn't been so nosy and insisted on speaking of things that were better left off alone, they wouldn't be sitting there sour-faced as if they had bitten down on each their lemon. Livia would not be the first to crack and break the uncomfortable silence; the gods knew she did plenty of that at home. So when her sister spoke, she hid a small victorious smile behind her raised cup and took another sip of what resembled purplish water rather than actual wine. How very like Horatia to extend the olive branch. She was right in that Livia did not quite know whether she believed her older sister or not, but filled with a desire to test that self-proclaimed loyalty, Livia quickly formulated a plan - one that might just see Horatia fall off her seat. "I appreciate it," she stated seriously, training her green eyes on Horatia's icy blue ones for a few seconds before looking down at her feet as if suddenly ashamed of something, and then glancing up again carefully. "And I may just take you up on that. Would you help me murder my husband?" @Sara

This time my travels took me to the ruins of Conímbriga in Portugal. It's about a 3-hour drive from Lisbon and the site features ruins and a small museum. If you're into hiking there's lots of trails in the surrounding area, including some that link up to one of the Camiños de Santiago/Ways of St James. As I arrived late in the day and had a mishap with my ticket I only had about 2 h to check out the ruins and the museum, which felt a bit rushed. An extra hour would have made it just right. Conímbriga was settled centuries before Roman occupation, but flourished under Augustus and the principate, becoming a municipium of about 10,000 inhabitants in the province of Lusitania. It was ultimately destroyed and abandoned in the 5th century as a consequence of Suebi invasions. Today what's been excavated is mostly ruins of domi, insulae and shops, along with public buildings like aqueducts and baths, though many of the former were torn down in the 3rd and 4th centuries to make way (and provide building materials) for defensive walls and towers. The current forum is something between a very bare-bones reconstruction and a floor plan, and the amphitheatre has yet to be unearthed as it lies under local homes nearby. If i had to sum it up in one word, it's mosaics. The ruins boast a number of beautifully preserved in situ mosaics, which is unusual in my (admittedly limited) experience - more often than not they're removed from their original sites and put indoors in a museum, but not here! In fact, nearly all of them have been exposed to the elements since being excavated, and it's astonishing how sharp and colourful they still are. The museum, on the other hand, was a disappointment and features a small selection of the usual findings of pottery, metal and bone tools, coins and funerary inscriptions, so if you're short on time I recommend dropping it. Elaborate mosaics in red and blue tones. Elaborate geometrical shapes. What's left of the hypocaust of one of the thermae buildings, dating from the 1st century AD. More beautiful mosaics. A cool-looking peristyle in the summer heat, featuring yet more mosaics. More geometrical shapes. These look incredibly similar to decorated pavements that can be found all over Portugal, 2000 years later. See all the columns and arches? This is what's left of the House of Cantaber, a fancy aristocrat that supposedly lived in the 4th-5th century. This domus had a measly five peristyles and spanned over 3000 m2! House of the Fountains - another big and fancy domus that belonged to one of the wealthiest families in the city. For flooring that's over a thousand years old, these are still in great shape. A horned humanoid and a sea creature. Depiction of a man carrying food and drink. The more things change, the more they stay the same. And lastly, it's not Roman if there isn't something phallic around - so have some fascini!

How right Aglaea was - yes, it could have gone much worse. Secundus could have become fixated on Aglaea's short moment of inattentiveness and punished her for it, rather than catching the thief as he seemed so keen to. "Let us thank the gods he was in a good mood today," Livia agreed with a quick nod, wondering to herself how long that rarity would last. But there were other things to do, namely hear her body slave's explanation. "You did well," she encouraged, cross for a split second that it had taken a stranger to nudge Aglaea's conscience into coming clean. She must have been more afraid of punishment than Livia realised - but by whom? A wave of malaise came over her and she laced her fingers together, dropping them on her lap. Could Aglaea be scared of her? Of what she might do? Or what if she just did not want to share the bits of her life that were truly private with Livia anymore? That was a distressing thought that Livia attempted to smother at once, shoving it deep into the recesses of her mind. Aglaea was speaking to her now, wasn't she? So she trusted her. They trusted each other. How could they not, after all they had been through together? With surprising effort she pulled herself back together and focused on the other woman's words. "I'm glad he was honest and helpful," Livia forced out with a weak smile. "I fear that your dominus may want to find him, to interrogate him..." It was hardly a matter for the courts, but she wouldn't put it past her husband to have the poor slave roughed up a bit. "Did he tell you who his master was?" If only they could speak to them first, tell them what had happened and how Rufus could still be of help, go the way of diplomacy rather than threatening words... provided they knew who to address first. @Echo

Hi Peaches! Nice to meet you, hope you'll enjoy your time here and don't hesitate to ask away if there's something we can help with

ARTEMON. 22 | 10th December 52 CE | Peregrini | Odd jobbs | Bisexual | Original | Rami Malek Personality. Artemon is a friendly young man with a fatal flaw: gullibility. Always eager to believe that his luck is about to turn round, he falls for the flimsiest plans with boundless enthusiasm and learns absolutely nothing from his failures. He is, however, resilient, as he picks himself up time and again while managing to keep his faith in humanity. His greatest dream is to strike it rich, and to this end he frequently embarks on a number of get-rich-quick schemes and drains his meagre savings in the process. He is a people person and will happily strike up a chat with total strangers in his native Egyptian, fluent Greek or his improving Latin – and being as credulous and naïf as he is, he also falls in and out of love very easily, coming across the love of his life on average twice a week. Being a dimwit also has its problems, as some smarter people Artemon comes across will think he’s taking the mick because nobody could conceivably be this daft, and despite his frantic assurances that he’s not, every once in a while Artemon will come home sporting a black eye or bloody nose, or sometimes both. He’s a strong believer in magic and superstition and is thoroughly convinced that some unknown enemy of his has put a very strong curse on him that keeps him from succeeding in life - and when he finds out the identity of this person, he will make a sacrifice to Sobek and invoke the most powerful curse known to Egypt on his enemy. Appearance He is a short and scrawny young man, courtesy of insufficient protein whilst growing up – but then again, Egyptians aren’t known for being tall, and at 167 cm he certainly isn’t. For all his apparent lack of muscle, however, Artemon has surprising upper body strength and is no stranger to loading and unloading ships at various harbours or reeling in a crocodile by accident instead of that humongous fish he was positive was trapped in the fishing net. Perpetually bug-eyed with deep bags under his eyes that won’t go away even if he sleeps a whole day, he’s got the sun-kissed skin of Nile dwellers mixed in with a bit of Greek olive tones. He keeps his dark hair shorter than his brother’s because it gets in his blue eyes (the latter’s colour inherited from some Greek ancestor, his father would say), but if allowed to grow freely it would be just as curly. Artemon has a strong jaw made softer by the easy smile on his face and keeps it religiously free of hair, because it’s itchy and hot and he couldn’t grow a beard if he tried anyway. On the inside of his left bicep is a tattoo of Sobek, the crocodile god of the Nile. His clothes are plain and of poor quality, betraying the sorry state of his finances, but Artemon tries to keep them as clean as possible, washing his two tunics regularly. Family Father: Empedion (b. 18) Mother: Tsillah (b. 23) Siblings: Euphemios (b. 40), Apollodora (b. 42), Hermolaos (b. 46), Niketas (b. 49), Chrysanthe (b. 51), Iophon (twin brother, b. 52), Tryphosa (b. 57). Spouse: n/a Children: n/a Extended family: aunts, uncles and cousins Other: n/a History 52 CE – On a dark December night Artemon and his fraternal twin brother Iophon are born to an already big family in a village near Ptolemais Hermiou. He’s the oldest by a handful of minutes, but time would tell that he is definitely not the wisest. Empedion, their father, gives his new sons good Greek names, as he has done for the rest of his brood – after all, his own father was Greek, and that’s something very important to him. Tsillah, their fully Egyptian mother, doesn’t object any more than she did the previous times, and is just happy that they’re both healthy despite their small size. 57 CE – Their youngest sister, Tryphosa, is born, and Artemon and Iophon are demoted from their positions as babies of the family. Despite his young age, Artemon enjoys going fishing with his maternal grandfather and uncles and is much praised for doing his part in putting food on the table; turns out he does a good job of gutting the fish for a 5-year-old. 58 CE – In a family as large as theirs there are many mouths to feed and not enough food to go round. The Nile’s harvest is bountiful, but only a fraction of a fraction is made available to them and the children often go to bed hungry. Even as his older siblings marry and go off to burden another household or bring another pair of hands to theirs, young Artemon can’t help but lament how everything would be much better if they were rich. The rich never starve, do they? Thus he got it into his head that his one ambition in life was to become rich. 59-67 CE – Although he continues to help out with fishing and is taught the minimum of letters and numbers by his despondent father, Artemon felt like there had to be something more he could be doing to make money. First he tried collecting and selling pretty stones, but everyone could go and pick their own stones off the ground, so that didn’t work; it also didn’t help that the village kids easily conned him into trading his nice stones for others that were bigger but uglier, because arithmetic wasn’t his forte and Artemon didn’t grasp that two of his small shiny stones were worth more than a giant lump of badly-formed clay. Another time a travelling merchant came by the village and was selling herbal cure-alls at a very low price; always one with an eye for business, a barely teenaged Artemon bought the man’s whole supply in order to later sell them to the villagers for a higher price. It might just have worked were it not for the powerful loosening of the bowels the medicine caused, and as constipation hardly ever struck, his enterprise was futile. 68-74 CE – Having joined a small local company of merchants, Artemon and Iophon become another cog in the machine supplying Egyptian grain to the neverending poor of Rome. They sailed up and down the Nile, loading their feluccas with grain from the Thebaid and carrying it down to the port of Alexandria, from where it would cross the Mediterranean to feed the capital of the empire. Artemon was rightly impressed by the city, but after the first year it lost that ‘wow’ factor. When funds were running low, Artemon would team up with his brother and sell amulets against the evil eye to tourists while Iophon told his tales. Though it was steady work, a tiny sliver of ambition gnawed at Artemon: this was no way to get rich! To his simple mind, the path ahead was clear: who was buying the grain? Rome. Meaning there was plenty of money in Rome. Meaning Artemon should go where the money was – Rome! Brokering passage across the sea from himself and his brother was no issue thanks to his passable sailor skills. 74 CE – A couple of weeks after having disembarked at Ostia and gotten a feel for the place, Artemon travels onward and sees Rome for the first time, immediately feeling that this is the place where his fortune will be made. He spends the first few days in a daze, lodging at an old acquaintance of his captain’s, before his dwindling finances force him to look for employment. He found it at a fishmonger’s, gutting fish once more. It did not pay well, but Artemon managed to save a little bit of coin, which he promptly handed to a wise woman to cast a love spell to make Fabia the popina girl fall for him – and as was to be expected, the woman ran off and Fabia did not fall for Artemon. It is at this time that he becomes convinced somebody is out to sabotage his endeavours, and the wise woman was surely bought off by that person so his wish would not come true. After all, only a powerful curse brought on by envy and jealousy would spawn such bad luck. 75 CE, Jan - Jun – Artemon worked in Ostia, making the trek to Rome when his coin purse was heavy enough and returning to the harbour to load and unload shipments when it grew inexplicably empty. The earthquake put an end to that easy routine and Artemon was left scratching his head and deciding to pack up and stay in Rome for a bit – someone had told him they’d heard of a collapsed domus with lots of jewellery and precious items under the rubble that nobody had got to yet. After Artemon paid the man for the rights to inspect the ruins and spent many hours digging and removing dirt, the only things he found were broken amphorae and a putrefied goat. 75 CE, Jul – present – After many a lean week, Fortuna finally smiled upon Artemon and he found himself working for a man named Gallus, moving his merch between warehouses. What said merch is Artemon can’t quite tell, but it smells good and herbal, and if he’s smart this time maybe Gallus will let him in on it. Business seems to be going well, because there’s always work and the pay is steady; steady enough to allow him and Iophon to rent a room in an insula full of funky characters. Liv | GMT+1 | PM/DM @Gothic

All things considered, this ordeal seemed to have turned out a lot better than Livia could have hoped for. Aglaea hadn't tasted the sting of the whip, Secundus hadn't been visibly consumed by rage, and she herself hadn't been the target of any reproach. Surprised at their collective maturity, Livia allowed herself to wonder if this was the start of a new era - one where they could learn to tolerate one another instead of just pretending. The thought was short-lived; she did not dare to hope for improvement. "I appreciate your trust in me," Livia nodded to her husband, her tone entirely serious; she did not feel comfortable teasing back (would she ever?) for fear the meaning of her words be turned on her. Fortunately Secundus did not stick around to see just what kind of punishment she had in mind, and after he was out of sight and presumably earshot, Livia let out a quiet yet deep sigh, as if her soul was being released from Hades. She reached out and put her hand on Aglaea's arm, leading them towards a small couch decorated with embroidered cushions and taking a seat. She exchanged a look of relief with her body slave, then cleared her throat. "So, this Rufus. Is he really innocent or is there more to this story?" Livia's words were blunt, but not spoken unkindly. @Echo @Járnviðr

It was nice of Attis to refill their cups, if nothing else. Maybe he was secretly looking forward to that tour; the gods knew what awaited if the slave got to exercise that unruly tongue of his with some bona fide Greek philosophers. But that would be something for his master to worry about, not Titus. What he could worry about was how sincere Longinus really was in his musings. Titus didn't doubt there was sincere desire for it at the bottom of things, but he couldn't help but wonder how many of those thoughts had been borne out of the recent happenings. Out of sight, out of mind - and Judaea was a good deal farther from Carthage than Rome. "At the risk of shocking you, Longinus, I will," he replied unabashedly. Good friends were not easy to make, let alone keep. Good friends he could tease mercilessly and discuss just about anything (well, almost) with were even rarer. Titus raised his cup in a toast. "Here's to the man who got me a decent gardener and broke his fingers trying to fight me." The mirth in his tone was obvious, but there was genuine appreciation in it too. "While I'm of the opinion that moping here for a month won't help your case for the praetorship, I understand your yearning for more action." By Mars, how he understood it! But wants and needs did not always overlap, and a man governed by his wants was no different from an animal. He sipped at his wine, pondering the merits of the eastern provinces. "There's never any shortage of trouble in Judea, that's for sure. As if their tribal issues weren't enough, rumour has it that weird cult is still on the rise," he muttered between sips before putting on his best smirk . "It's also hot and dry. Are you sure you're ready for that after half a lifetime in Britannia?" @Sharpie @Sara

While Livia was naturally suspicious (or even jealous, an outsider might say) of any unfamiliar men that crossed Aglaea's path, this time her doubts rested more with the circumstances than the serendipitous slave's intentions. She made a mental note to clarify what she really meant later, when they were left alone. "Very well, I believe you" she acquiesced, dropping the subject. Any more probing and even patient Aglaea would grow weary. The thought of having her body slave was a disturbing one, and Livia shook her head almost imperceptibly to signal to Aglaea that she should not bring it up again, lest Secundus actually decided to follow up on that. "I appreciate your concern for my belongings, Secundus," she dipped her head towards him. If he chose to interpret her words as counting Aglaea as one of said belongings, legally he would not be wrong, but Livia saw her companion as more than property: nobody grew as reliant on a chair or stola as they did a slave. She flinched at the sudden touch, but forced herself to steady her nerves; unfortunately, this meant she turned stiff as a board as her muscles tensed, unsure of what was to come next. So far he had reacted better than Livia had expected - was he in a good mood after all, brought on by the prospect of vengeance? "It's very kind of you to care so." Kinder than most of what she had witnessed from him, and it merited a small forced smile of encouragement. Ideally Livia would have had the mental fortitude to reach up with a hand and place it over his to signal a united front, but she found herself incapable of doing it. "We will discuss your punishment later, Aglaea," Livia stated coolly, hoping the detached tone was enough to mask her true intentions to do no such thing. She was more than a little interested in learning more about the male slave, though, and relaxed her body a fraction as she listened, full of curiosity. @Echo @Járnviðr

Update as of 30/8: The character mod is now deactivated as a glitch was making it impossible to reply to posts or start new topics. We are waiting to hear back from the devs and are hoping for a quick resolution to this problem. Apologies for the inconvenience and until then, feel free to post from your OOC account!

Horatia seemed shocked by Livia's outburst, as she should well be. For all of two seconds, at least, before regaining her bearings and shooting off indignant excuses. Wanting to let her sister's words roll right off her back, Livia helped herself to her wine and downed the cup in one go - but the drink hadn't helped. She was too agitated to ignore Horatia's words - and objectively, she knew her sister was right: she couldn't very well have stayed behind to dry Livia's tears while Aulus' career required that they move to the provinces. Subjectively, though? If Horatia had already endured a six-year period without her husband once, what would a month or two have done? It wasn't as though slaves couldn't tend to his and the children's needs for a while! The following admission caught her by surprise. Had Horatia...? It was far from unusual, the midwife had said the first time, and it happened to young and old alike, both first-time mothers and experienced ones. The defiance in Livia's gaze dimmed, though it did not disappear. If it was indeed true, why hadn't Horatia told her? They could have commiserated together. Livia would have known her pain better than anyone. But perhaps Horatia had had no need to, and had got enough support from Aulus and their entourage. Plus, there were Titus and Calpurnia to think about - yes, no child could ever replace another, but they could keep the mind busy enough that there would be less time to dwell on the could-have-beens. Livia did not have that luxury either. So instead of feeling sorry for Horatia over their shared plight, she only resented her sister more. "Divorce?!" Her tone was mocking, self-deprecating even. "Impossible. What would people say about Pater?" Whilst their father did deserve to have his judgement questioned, best that it be done in private by family than in public by the whole Roman high society. That sort of gossip floating about would also hurt Horatia's husband's reputation, didn't she see it? "Or about me? Who would have me?" she continued, shaking her head. No man of decent name would want her should she separate from Secundus, that was for sure; especially when she had no children to speak of her merits as matron. Her chances to bear them also grew smaller with each passing day and the relentless advance of time. Besides... maybe she deserved it all. Maybe this was the way the gods meant for her life to be, and that was that. After all, Livia was no righteous person: she had failed to save her mother that fateful day, failed to keep a child alive in her womb not once but twice, failed to try to produce one for the husband her father hand chosen for her, and failed to at the very least be faithful to him by repeatedly sleeping with his nephew. No, Livia did not deserve help. Secundus may not be right, but he was right for her. He was just the sort of man Livia merited. She shook her head again, this time more vehemently. "Forget what I said. Every couple has their spats, and I'm still indisposed towards him from our last. I'm afraid I may have regretfully taken it out on you, too. My apologies," she said coldly, holding out her empty cup for a slave to fill. @Sara

The look exchanged between Aglaea and her gave Livia a modicum of courage; if her slave was brave enough to shoulder any blame, rightfully or not, then the least she could do was try to divert Secundus' attention away from any small mistakes Aglaea might have made. However, she was taken aback at the slave's admission of having encountered another slave, and stood there with her mouth agape for an instant as she processed the information. A male slave, to make things worse. Livia would not pry for the time being, but the frown that appeared promised interrogation when it was just the two women again. She closed her mouth and cast her husband a vacant glance. To go through so much trouble for such a small loss... But if Livia made her opinion known, it would either be disregarded or the cause of an argument. Instead she nodded without much enthusiasm - the forum was so big and crowded that finding the culprit would be an impossible task. "The jeweller's shop is off a side street close to the lower section of the Via Lata. It's not terribly far away, but still enough of a distance for a thief to act unnoticed," she explained to Secundus, again choosing to focus her gaze slightly below his eyes. Any minute now and he would probably shift the blame onto her, accusing her of frivolous purchases and how this never would have happened if Aglaea hadn't been sent to the merchant's. To avoid that, Livia backtracked a little on the conversation - if it could be called one. "This other slave you spoke of, Aglaea... are you quite sure he was an innocent passerby? Even if it wasn't him who stole from you, could he have been employed to distract you while the criminal ran away undetected?" @Echo @Járnviðr

The story seemed straightforward enough - and thank Juno Aglaea had had the sense not to stash the jewellery away together with the money. That would have been disastrous, and Livia wasn't sure she would have been able to forgive such inattentiveness for weeks. She wrung her hands, anxious about Secundus' reaction, but when it came it was much more reasonable than what she had expected. His theory happened to match Livia's own thoughts, and she hurried to agree with him with an emphatic nod. "Yes, I too think it's as you say. Pickpockets abound in the forum." If Aglaea had bought the honey cake, perhaps the whole situation would have been averted, but there was no use crying over spilt milk. The look her husband cast her sent a wave of apprehension rushing through Livia.What did he expect of her? To be stern and merciless towards Aglaea, whose only sin had been to fall prey to something that could happen to anyone, slave and senator alike? Or to console her so she would be more pliable to interrogation? How was Livia to know? The inner turmoil showed in the twitching of her fingers, but instead of asking Secundus for clarification she directed her focus to her slave once more. "Or... did somebody sit next to you, perhaps? Or brush past you?" Gods, how entirely futile this exercise was. They would never catch the thief or learn his identity, and the stolen sum was a pittance in the grand scheme of things. Who cared?! Nobody but Secundus. Fighting the urge to sigh, Livia dared to voice a suggestion. "Secundus..." she started timidly, "maybe you could inquire with the urban cohorts if such incidents have been on the rise, when you next are in Rome...?" They would ignore it, most likely, but there might be one bored and obsessive soldier amongst them, like that dreadful tribune that had fortunately slunk back to wherever he came from. @Echo @Járnviðr

Why had it taken them so long to get it on again? Perhaps it was all the flower, amplifying the senses and minimising their flaws. With unfocused, frantic movements Titus unwound the loincloth and tossed it to the side, resuming his caressing between Zia's legs for a dozen heartbeats and then letting go, his now sticky fingers travelling sideways and up the curve of her arse to give it a firm squeeze. It required more coordination than the had to spare at that moment, between her needy moans and the lithe hand wrapped around his cock. "Touch yourself," he bade her between ragged breaths, lips ghosting over her jaw as he gazed downwards, distracted and light-headed by the tantalising suggestion. The kiss caught him by surprise, but he wasted little time in catching on, crushing their mouths together in hungry urgency as if all the air in the world was gone and all they could do was draw it from each other. It came to a stop almost as quickly as it had started, but Titus couldn't help a smirk at the lovely flush on Zia. They were burning up, the both of them, and being consumed by fire had never felt better. Barbarians really were a different breed. Zia was as quick at putting her tongue to work as when she hurled insults at him, and with a loud gasp Titus reached down and threaded his fingers into her hair, pushing back the long locks for a better view, and then down on her head, slowly, to make her take more of him into her mouth. The wet heat that engulfed him was addictive and Titus closed his eyes and lost himself in the sensation, a new wave of pleasure rippling through him with every lick and flick and swirl of Zia's devilish tongue. He wanted nothing more than to give in, thrust his hips into her mouth with abandon and fuck it till her voice was nothing but a hoarse whimper. She was a beautiful. dizzying sight, all swollen lips and hollowing cheeks and wanton gave that seemed to reach straight down to his cock, bringing him closer to the edge with each twitch and throb. Too soon for that. He couldn't, not yet, and with a choked groan Titus tugged on Zia's hair and drew her head back, almost regretting his decision as his cock, slick and glistening with spit and precum, met the heavy smoke-filled air again. But the gods damn him if he was going to cum and leave her hanging like some inexperienced teenage boy who didn't know better - like she needed yet another reason to disparage him. Titus cupped her face and drew her up to catch her bottom lip between his teeth, giving it a light bite before letting go, and rolled them over in a swift motion, laying Zia flat on her back and settling his legs between hers. The grimace that marred his features for a couple pf seconds was as difficult to hide as the sudden pain in his torso was to ignore, but the current state of affairs was effective enough in drawing his attention again and after a few shaky breaths and an eloquent 'Fuck!', Titus managed to sit back and lean over Zia, and forget about the possible damage for the time being. He ran his hands over her chest and stomach with languid motions, fingers raking through the naked skin of her breasts before trailing down lower, digging his nails here and there to see what reaction it produced. With the subligaculum gone, there was no excuse not to make the most of it. He stroked Zia with his thumb at first, alternating barely-there touches with more forceful ones. He wanted to see her writhing in pleasure, things quivering and hips bucking against him, completely at his mercy, and Titus pulled his hand back slightly, moving it a bit lower and teasing around her entrance before slipping a finger inside. It was hot and tight and wet, sucking him in as he moved his finger in and out in an impossibly slow tempo, adding a second one a few seconds later and picking up the pace. Gods, how he was aching to enter her... but an impish, almost mocking smile appeared on Titus' face, and his eyes bored intensely onto Zia's. "Tell me you want me." @Sara

How easy it was to be Horatia. Everything was a breeze! Come to the city a little more, as if Livia could snap her fingers and instantly be transported from Tibur to Rome, faster than Phaethon's carriage or Mercury with his winged shoes and cap. Publius might be willing to host her for a day or two, but their father, while pleasant enough on the surface, would probably resent her for coming between him and his drink, even for a short time. The urge to roll her eyes was great, but a well-bred matron should not do it in public, and so Livia pursed her lips into a thinner line, looking as though she had bit right into a citron. Her mood only grew sourer at her sister's insistence that something was up, and Livia briefly contemplated standing up and leaving - some sort of 'oh, look at how low the sun's got, we must be on our way' departure, but that wouldn't work on Horatia, who would undoubtedly pursue the matter again at the next available opportunity. Inward, Livia bristled. What gave Horatia the right to take up the mantle of motherly figure now, when she hadn't cared to do so in years?! Very well, she would not roll her eyes or shrug, but she could still stare daggers at Horatia's stupid stern face, indignation flashing through. Was it secrets she wanted? Then fine, secrets she was going to get! "You want to help me now? I'm sorry, I fear it's a bit too late for that. You should have helped me two years ago, before Pater had me wed a man who sees enemies lurking round every corner and loses his mind at the drop of a pin, when I was too out of it to even think of objecting to the marriage!" Livia snarled, slightly out of breath and eyes blazing. There. She had said it, and now there was no turning back. @Sara

Livia flinched at the acidic edge to her husband's voice, lacing her fingers together tighter. Would he rather have Aglaea cut up or beaten up because of a confrontation with the thief? That would have sent Livia into a right state, not to mention the overall impact eventual injuries would have had on the household's routines - if Aglaea had been too bruised to do her usual tasks, some other less skilled slave would have had to step in, to unsatisfactory results. Surely Secundus could see how ineffective that would be? Still she kept quiet, lowering her gaze to the floor as Secundus questioned her body slave. What an arrogant, self-absorbed man! Of course he had countless enemies, when he saw even his own shadow as one! If his suspicions had had any smattering of truth to it,, then Aglaea would have suffered worse than having her purse taking without her noticing. Barring a momentary lack of attention, she couldn't see how her slave was at fault, and so Livia gathered enough courage to defend the faithful Aglaea from Secundus' unreasonable scrutiny. "If the thief intended to hurt you through Aglaea, husband, I daresay he would have been bolder than this. If Aglaea did not notice when it happened, then she cannot say who might have done it or where." Livia swallowed, exchanging a quick look with Aglaea for reassurance. Secundus would most likely take issue with her words, as Livia did not usually take the risks that came with contradicting him, but she drew the line at letting Aglaea be harassed more than what the situation justified. In hopes of avoiding an argument, she manoeuvred the exchange into a tangent. "Aglaea," she turned her head to face the body slave, "do you remember when you last had the purse on you? Perhaps we can retrace your steps..." @Járnviðr @Echo

Safinia's good humour slipped rather quickly at the inane question Marcellus posed. "I don't have an apple tree," she said in confusion, looking at him with uncomprehending wide eyes. "I lived in an insula that collapsed." With her still inside. Maybe he didn't know that, or hadn't heard yet. In any case, only the very rich had enough money for a house in Rome with a garden and fruit tree, and she was not one of them; quite the opposite. His compliment, on the other hand, brought her mood right back up, and she gave him a serious nod. "I try to set the wormy ones aside for the horses." She didn't know if she would ever be running around ever again, but for once Safinia accepted the positivism for what it was. It would be nice to be able to walk again, if running was off the table. At least it didn't look as though her leg needed to be chopped off anymore, which - again - was a positive thing. How very odd that Marcellus gave off these contagious positive vibes. As he told his story her gaze was naturally drawn to his head, and Safinia briefly compared his bruise with her own one in silence. It did not look too grave. "Those horses are more trouble than they're worth," she grumbled under her breath, knowing her comment to be a lie. Many of those horses were worth more than she would earn in a lifetime, so of course they would be kept safe. "I don't know. I guess it's different for every woman. I don't mind them," she shrugged again, this time with her better arm only. "It's a good thing it didn't hit your face," Safinia added after an appraising look, as if Marcellus were one of the small decorated trinkets she was so fond of. "Do men like scarred women? I don't think you do." @Echo

There were no wounds on Aglaea that Livia could discern from her cursory examination, and the body slave's account corroborated that impression. "Then there is not much to be done about it, is there?" It was clear from her tone that she expected no answer, and was read to drop the subject. Next time Aglaea would have to hide her purse better, that was all there was to it. Or spend all the coin, alternatively - Livia would not begrudge her if her if she bought herself something nice to eat before heading back. Livia could not help but start slightly at her husband's entrance into the room, already trying to gauge his current mood by the tone of his voice and the purpose behind his step. She expected it to happen all the time, yet when it did she felt every bit as taken by surprise as the very first time. He did not seem irate - yet -, but she knew better than to delay answering his query. "Only superficially, but Aglaea seems unharmed," she replied in a timid voice, letting her arms drop to waist height and lacing her fingers together with nervous, twitchy movements. She did not know whether she ought to be tense or relieved at Secundus' appearance, but took solace in the fact that she seemed to have asked the right questions whilst he allegedly overheard them (because senators, needless to say, did not eavesdrop). "It is a regrettable loss, naturally, but... there are many skilled pickpockets in Rome. I am glad that Aglaea is well," Livia piped up meekly, turning to face Secundus but not quite daring to make eye contact, instead choosing to focus her gaze on some fictional spot on his throat. Who cared about three miserable sestertii when her beloved companion's well-being was worth a hundred times that? @Járnviðr @Echo

Whether the verses' original author would have been enraged or entertained at the amusement they elicited from a barbarian woman, the world would sadly never know. Still, as far as Titus was concerned, the words had served their purpose, since Zia seemed to be in an increasingly more amenable mood. "I wish I could take credit for them," he confessed with a chuckle, sitting up straight with a low growl and drawing her close before adding in a sultry whisper, "I like it when you... compliment me. It turns me on." That much she'd already surmised, and with practised gestures made clumsier by the flower and all the pleasurable distractions that made his breath catch in his throat, untied the subligaculum that had become so constricting, inhaling shakily when it came loose. It felt only natural to put one hand atop hers, close as they were, and guide it to his cock, wordlessly encouraging Zia to touch it as he subconsciously rolled his hips towards her. "You do when we're both sober." Eyes dark with desire, Titus wasn't quite sure what to call this newly-discovered state of mind that felt like many things at once. Then again, that was something for another time and place, as there were more pressing matters to attend to. He slowly ran his hand over the soft skin of her collarbone and lower still, pulling down the decidedly excessive layers of clothing until he was cupping her naked breast. They could have stood to be a little bigger, true, but the skin was satisfyingly smooth and supple when he gave it a playful squeeze, distractedly wondering if sort of reaction, if any, it would draw from her. Something else might produce a different, better, response, Titus reasoned vaguely through the lusty haze, and removed his hand from hers to bunch up her dress and reach in between her legs, rubbing lazy circles through the moist fabric. Too. Many. Fucking. Layers. It was his turn to pause and one-handedly struggle with the damn cloth, unwilling to withdraw his other hand from Zia's breasts and put a stop to the light pinching of her nipples. Groaning in frustration, Titus nipped at her earlobe, murmuring heatedly, "Lend me a hand here, won't you?" He sure wasn't getting it off fast enough by himself.

Fortunately Horatia had the sense not to counter with some barb of her own, although the impeccable holier-than-thou composure that so irritated Livia was still there. Yet she, too, for the sake of good relations, would refrain from telling her older sister that she did not really believe Horatia understood much at all. If Horatia had ever given birth to a child too small to live and been given the ashes that were all that remained of the husband she loved, she had done a marvellous job of keeping it from the world. She was not used to advocating for herself, nor would it be desirable for her to - such women were labelled as troublemakers. That role had been their mother's, and should have been Horatia's after the elder Livia's death. But where was Horatia when she had needed her the most? Off gallivanting in the provinces with her posh husband and perfect children. Why hadn't Horatia reasoned with their father? Why hadn't anyone done anything and put a stop to things? The words caught in Livia's throat and she tried to swallow the lump that had formed, eyes fixed on her sister with a mix of resignation and betrayal. "Let us drop the subject for the time being, it's giving me a headache," Livia stated with finality. It wouldn't get better until she had a good cry about it in Aglaea's arms on their way back home. "I suspect they talk of more masculine things, like what the barbarians are up to in Germania and who's going to be posted where next," she said flatly. And doubtless of what prostitute was the best bang for one's buck and a number of topics that should not reach the ears of decent women. Did they have their spats like Livia and Horatia? Probably, but if so they seemed to recover from them quite quickly, as there had never been visible animosity between them. Still, their brothers had their uses - like now, to keep their sisters conversing civilly. "Gods, it feels like I haven't seen them in ages. I wonder if they keep secrets from us like we do from them." @Sara