A Happy Union [M - S & V]

[Liv]

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.

[Sara]

Zia was...surprised. In a good way as her hand wound lower and found something altogether...more impressive than she had been envisaging. For a brief moment lust overtook rationality and she wondered why she had ever been so opposed to this in the first place. A sly smile found its way onto her lips as she rhythmically moved her hand in time with the rolling of his hips. It was oddly satisfying to her to watch his reaction, but that satisfaction was overtaken as he tugged off her own clothes and she felt her hand on his chest. God it had been so long and she let out a moan into his neck. 

That moan of pleasure was overtaken with a somewhat sharper intake of breath as he wound his own hand south and she couldn't help but roll her own hips. She barely heard him, feeling those first tantalising ripples of pleasure from her toes up her legs to her thighs and her core but the yanking on her underclothes grew more frantic and she blinked, realising what he meant. She used her spare hand, her other still occupied working in a lazy rhythm on his cock to unknot the cloth and kneel up so he could unwind it. Before she could stop herself, she leant down for a kiss. Not a chaste kiss, but a kiss full of lust and heat, her hair falling in their faces and her heart thrumming in her chest. 

There was something else she wanted to do though now the mood had struck her. She pulled back from the kiss a little breathless, and watched him with wry smile as she continued her rhythmic jerking. It was a power play, even now, even high and in the throes of passion - she couldn't quite let go of the desire to have him under her thumb. With the smile still on her face and hazel eyes watching him, she worked her way down his chest with featherlight kisses until she reached her own hand, and in one deft motion, took him in her mouth. She let herself settle there for a moment before she continued the pace she had only recently dropped with her hand, eyes flicking up to watch him. 

 

TAG: @Liv

[Liv]

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

[Sara]

It was good. So good. She felt lost in great big rolling waves of pleasure as she was summarily flipped on her back. Even giving him pleasure was good, and she'd relish the memory of his gasps and the feeling of his fingers threaded through her hair. But this was different and as his fingers worked magic she let out a low, unstoppable moan that echoed around the chamber. Her hips arched as she wanted to take more of him and as he teased her, entering her with his fingers she let out a hoarse "Fuck." It had never been like this before with Diegis, not unless she had to go to the effort of directing his hands, explaining repeatedly that him pounding away for two minutes wasn't enough for her. Now, however, she felt like her whole body was on fire, from the tips of her toes to the top of her head. 

She couldn't help herself and her hips moved in rhythm with the thrust of his fingers, one arm reaching up and her hand grabbing the leg of the chair, nails digging in and splintering the wood as she let out gasps and moans of pleasure. Her eyes were clamped shut and she felt a desperation, increasing the movements and writhing of her own body to match his own, as if she wasn't even in control of her own senses. "D-Deeper." She managed to choke breathlessly, a command more than a request. 

But she had not lost all her sense in the waves of pleasure and she knew if he continued she'd climax before she could stop herself. She kicked out at his arm and she let out a pained choke as his fingers left her, their absence sent shuddering of barely controlled pleasure through her body. Quickly, before he'd have a chance to resume, she dragged herself up and pushed down hard on his shoulders until he was on his back. She moved to straddle him but didn't let him enter her. She choked out as she felt his cock brush up against her, slick and ready for him. So ready. Her fingers moved down to his chest, splaying out and brushing against his own nipples in a way reminiscent of his teasing earlier. She ground down for a few moments before reaching down and capturing his lips in a heated kiss, fingers tangling in his own hair and gripping on with force she couldn't control. She felt as if she was going to explode. 

She ground down again, teasing him as she she broke the kiss. Her cheeks and chest were flush with heat and anticipation, her hair falling into his face. Finally she positioned herself and slowly, teasingly took his cock in, finally letting him enter her, letting out a gasp and arching her back face to the ceiling at the sensation. As she settled to the feeling, she didn't move, didn't start any sort of rhythm or roll her hips. Instead she glanced down at him and offered her own impish smirk. "I want you," She finally answered his question, "Do you not want me?" 

 

TAG: @Liv

[Liv]

Going by Zia's reaction, she seemed to approve of Titus' ministrations, and he was happy to continue obliging, easing his fingers further in and curling them upwards just a little. Gods, the sounds she made had him choking out shallow breaths until she suddenly pushed him off of her, leaving him dazed and confused until their positions were reversed once again and Zia had free reign over his body, sending sweaty goosebumps everywhere she touched, tempting him endlessly.

All the teasing seemed to make the reward that much sweeter, and Titus closed his eyes and savoured the hot, constricting feeling, unaware of the little smile directed at him. The sound of her voice made him focus divert his focus and he opened them reluctantly, gazing at Zia with a hint of impatience. "What does it look like?" he grunted in frustration, more than just a little bit annoyed that she wasn't moving. Why be on top if she was not putting in the work? 

Before she could delay it further, Titus decided to take matters into his own hands, grabbing her arse and lifting her hips just so, holding her still so Zia could feel for herself just how exasperating it was. Two could play this game... but Titus found he didn't particularly want to at that moment. Fuck, he wouldn't even mind if he came first - the most pleasant of defeats. Shutting out all pretences of rationality, he let her sink down onto him and rocked his hips up against her, wanting more, letting his hands travel freely over her flushed skin as he settled into a rhythm, lazy thrusts at first that soon gave way to more frantic ones. Putting a hand on the back of her head and pulling her down close to him, he gasped breathlessly against Zia's lips before catching them in a voracious, sloppy kiss, tongues swirling in a feverish dance for an instant before he pulled away.

Titus slammed his hips harder and faster into her, panting and heaving erratically as the pressure mounted, inching closer to release until he felt his whole body tense and then relax, burying himself deep inside Zia with a low raspy moan. For a few seconds he lay there, catching his breath and riding out the ripples of ecstasy as he rested twitchy fingers on the small of her back, until at last he felt coherent enough to speak again. With a small smile that was equal parts wryness and bliss he met her eyes, a hint of lust still present in his as he moved one of his hands to just above where they were still joined, his cock growing limp inside her. His fingers felt boneless and uncoordinated, but it was his turn to be a tease, if Zia didn't find it too much stimulation and bat his hand away.

"I lost."

@Sara

[Sara]

He was good. Gods above, he was good. It was infuriating and blissful at the same time, and as his hips rocked she couldn't help the low moans escaping her lips or the same unconscious rhythms being produced in her own movements. They were done with teasing, and that suited her just fine as the heat across her body increased and the frenetic movements of their bodies continued. She felt her toes curl and breathlessly returned his kiss before he finished with a rasped moan. That was satisfying on two counts, but before she could protest that he didn't get to be finished quite that easily, he had read her mind and his fingers came back to touch her.

It wasn't long before his ministrations had their desired effect and she was climaxing in shudders, with ragged breaths and a low moan as her fingers unconsciously tightened on his biceps before she couldn't help herself and she rolled off of him, still inundated by waves of pleasure and collapsed down breathlessly at his side. Her chest rose and fell, flushed pink with pleasure and lust as she fluttered her eyes shut and tried to regain her senses. The whole encounter had been full of more passion and lust than she'd had in years, marriage included, and she couldn't help herself as she laughed. It started with a low giggle but before she could stop herself she was shuddering with peals of laughter as they echoed around the room. 

"Y-you did lose," She affirmed as her laughter settled a little, "B-but I'm going to get you to smoke the flower every day, if we can do that." 

 

TAG: @Liv

[Liv]

For a loser, Titus was feeling rather pleased with himself, since the winning side hadn't taken long to join him in basking in the afterglow. Zia seemed to retain a little more of her faculties too, being considerate enough not to just flop down atop him when Titus had entirely forgotten about that in the heat of the moment.

"I'll win next time," he countered with a smug inflection of his brow, not even pausing to reflect on what he had just said. Two hours prior the prospect would have had him grimacing, but now he was looking forward to it - and amidst the brain fog brought on by the flower and an orgasm, the strangeness of their exchange did not register. 

Something about the way Zia said 'every day' had Titus recruiting an additional brain cell and turning his head to look at her in mild confusion. "You said... too much makes you sick?" Hadn't she? Or was he imagining things? "I think?" Well, they certainly could give it another try or ten soonish. If it was always this pleasant in all aspects, it would be madness to refuse. And if they ran out, they could just steal from the priests. The thought made him chortle heartily for a short while, until some saliva went down the wrong pipe and it devolved into a stupid and painful, yet mercifully short, fit of coughing.

Whether it was the physical exertion catching up to him - even if he felt mostly fine at the moment, his body would change its tune in a few hours - or an effect of the flower he couldn't tell, but Zia's face grew fuzzier by the second and his eyelids heavier at an even faster rate. Before he gave in to the beckoning darkness Titus lazily lifted a hand and booped Zia on the nose in a final act of revenge, then dropped it and closed his eyes. Within seconds, Morpheus' familar embrace had enveloped him.

@Sara

[Sara]

It had been a week since the odd encounter. She had been purposefully avoiding her spouse, seeing him only when strictly necessary (usually to extract Luto from his silly little figurine games). She felt odd and utterly unnerved by the loss of control and what had happened. That afternoon she had snuck away hurriedly as he had dozed, and mentioned it to nobody. Nobody could know she had actually slept with him, never mind that she had been supposedly sleeping with him for weeks now. And she certainly didn't want to see his smugly satisfied face. She only hoped in his haze, he didn't remember what she'd said about repeating the offending act every day. Gods, how humiliating. 

But life had other plans and Cothelas had demanded she find out exactly how they were to host this tax collector, due any day now. Zia had argued until she was blue in the face that it didn't matter one iota whether they threw a banquet or shuffled him out the side exit, but her once father-in-law couldn't be disuaded and she begrudgingly, finally, dragged herself to the only person that was likely to know. 

She didn't knock, she knew Luto was with his nurse and so he would be alone, and she always found it was better to take people by surprise, especially in these sort of circumstances. She narrowed her eyes on his figure and gestured flippantly, "Stop whatever you're doing, I have an actually important task for you." She narrowed her eyes and folded her arms squarely across her chest (obstructing whatever view he may be - but probably wasn't - angling for). She let the door swing back shut on its hinges, leaving them alone in the room but she made no move to step into his domain any farther. 

"You need to tell me exactly what we should be doing to host this tax collector, right down to the detail." 

 

TAG: @Liv

[Liv]

Even without raising his eyes from his work or waiting to hear her words, Titus knew well enough who had just entered his small quarters without so much as a knock or a greeting. Couldn't a man be left to his studies in peace? With a sigh he put the twig he had been writing with inside a small cup filled with blood (a poor chicken's or pig's, he didn't know and didn't care) that passed for ink and fleetingly regretted that the twig was not hollow like straw, so that he might blow into it and spray Zia with the dark-red liquid. Of course, if they had just given him a wax tablet and a stylus in the first place... but the former seemed unknown to them and the latter was deemed as 'too dangerous' - meaning too stabby. So he was reduced to drawing his letters in animal blood on a piece of wood, with a twig so fragile it would snap in two if he gripped it too hard, sitting hunched over the table like the most diligent of pupils and trying to give written form to the little Dacian he knew.

The 'important task' was clearly not a repeat performance, going by her mood, but that was all right; he too had been in volatile moods lately, alternately vexed and ashamed of himself without quite being able to settle on one emotion or the other whilst at the same time doing his best to smother the recollection of how good it had felt. His own unresolved feelings were why he made no barbed allusion to their tryst, though he told himself he was saving it for later leverage.

Titus propped his chin on his hand and listened with an air of supreme boredom as he faced Zia, quelling the urge to snort at her ridiculous attempt of blocking his view of her assets - as if she had any! No, he had long given up on those. "And a good day to you too, wife." Shit. Was the man coming already? He had been so busy trying to come to terms with the latest event that the letter from the publicanus had slipped his mind. "I'm not actually sure," he answered in a sincere tone before elaborating, still looking at Zia. "My brother's secretary took care of that for me in Rome, and between the provincial quaestors and the camp prefects doing their jobs I never had to concern myself with them." 

Forcing himself not to dwell on the fate of his camp prefect, Titus quickly went on. "But the way I see it you have two options. One: you treat him like an esteemed guest, try to get on his good books, maybe offer him a little extra under the table if he's the corruptible type and see if he can leave you alone for the next year or two after you've paid your dues." That was how much of any business tended to work, anyway. "Two: you let him know in no uncertain terms he's not welcome - send him back with a limb - or even his head - chopped off, pay no taxes and prepare for the consequences." It wouldn't be the first time an emissary suffered because of who they represented.

"So which of those do you need my help with?"

@Sara

[Sara]

Zia scoffed, arms still folded across her chest. "So you did nothing at all? Figures." Of course the lazy sod probably spent his time sunning himself and drinking enough wine to sink a ship. 

Nonetheless, she listened to him. His perspective was useful - much as she resented the fact that it was, and that she had to ask in the first place. Especially...now...given how it went the last time she had been in this room. She unconsciously tightened her arms, folded across her chest, at the thought. "The first, obviously." She scoffed and then narrowed her eyes on him, "What good would it do to cut off his limbs? We're trying to forge an alliance with Rome, not cause another invasion. Maybe next time they'd actually send a decent legate and we'd lose." A foolish, childish barb but she couldn't help herself. 

"You'll need to be there," She offered, "And on your best behaviour at the feast. You're a guest of our tribe, an esteemed guest at that, and my husband. We need word to filter back to Rome, so no funny business." 

 

TAG: @Liv

[Liv]

With a 'tsk' and an eye roll Titus dismissed the dig at his industriousness. "So you kill, pluck, carve and cook every chicken you eat? Please, like you don't have slaves to do that." What could she do anyway, besides looking cross all day every day, berating him and occasionally busying herself with her son? The silly woman probably didn't even know how to hunt or ride a horse. She knew how to ride other things, though, and the sudden diversion to his train of thought brought a salacious smirk to Titus' lips, which he wasted no time directing at Zia.

"If you don't kill his entourage, beat him to a bloody pulp and force him to marry one of your women that's a pretty decent reception already in my book," Titus countered, unable to keep spite out of his voice as the smirk disappeared. 'Esteemed guest' his arse; prisoner was more like it. Yet as part of him raged on about his sorry treatment, another part was rational enough to pick out a not-so-insignificant detail and find fault with it.

He turned it over in his head, staying quiet as he fixed his gaze on Zia but seeming to be looking far beyond her. It wouldn't be the first time he uncovered some inconsistency in her - or the old man's - plan. Eyes blinking back into focus, Titus stood up with a sigh and approached her. "Allow me to voice my concerns first," Titus began, feet coming to a halt just before another step would have had them touching. If she grew uncomfortable with the closeness it would just prove his point. "The way things are at this very moment, and assuming the publicanus doesn't have sand between his ears, he'll read the room and either think that I'm a deserter or that you lot are keeping me here against my will. The former is a death sentence for your dreams, the latter might just bring a decent legate sniffing round and achieve the same result." He pretended the words had no effect on him and spoke on.

"You need to come up with a believable story. Something so simple and stupid he won't think to investigate further. Like, I don't know, the chief's daughter and the injured captive falling for each other as she tended to his wounds and he awaited his grim fate." Gods, it was so corny it took all of Titus' self-control not to laugh himself to tears, but boy meets girl was the oldest story in the world. He raised a hand and brushed a few stray strands of hair away from Zia's face in a gentle yet deliberate gesture - a mockery of genuine affection. "But that will hardly hold water if we sit there giving each other dirty looks the whole time, won't it?" He dropped his hand and took a step back, letting her digest what he had just said and waiting for the inevitable objections Zia was sure to throw at him. And in the meantime he would just have to try very hard not to ask himself why he was actively participating in their farce now...

@Sara

[Sara]

It took all of Zia's masterfully crafted self-restraint not to take a step back as her husband drew near. Instead, she kept her arms resolutely folded across her chest and jutted her jaw, teeth grinding together until she could hear them squeak in between breaths. She listened, or tried to, through huffs of angry breaths. Yet again, he was right. And she loathed it. Her anger and annoyance couldn't be controlled for eternity though, and she swiped his hands away as he moved to (almost tenderly) brush the hair from her face. 

When he withdrew a step, she felt herself relax and her body lost some of the rigid tension it had been holding. "Well..." She said after a pregnant pause, and turned her face to study his - keeping her eyes unnervingly and unwaveringly on his face. "Aren't you the perfect strategist." She scoffed. That was about the sum of the compliment he was going tor receive for his appraisal of her plan. She tossed her waist length hair over her shoulder and returned to standing arrow-straight. 

"I would adore to know why my sweet husband wishes to play act so?" She arched a brow at him, "Are you..." She bit at her lip, acting coy, "Falling in love with me...?" She let the silence linger. 

And then broke it with a mirthless chuckle. "But seriously. Why do you care?" 

 

TAG: @Liv

[Liv]

And there she went again, proving Titus right the instant she batted his hand away. The way things were they wouldn't manage to fool even Luto, let alone a grown man whose trade would have made him the observant type. Still, Titus drew a measure of gratification from having made Zia uncomfortable, and payback in the form of thorough scrutiny did not bother him: he returned it with a faint look of ennui, twice blinking lazily like a cat. A third, quicker blink followed the falsely bashful question and Titus chuckled in derision, filling the silence. "Don't flatter yourself. It's just that it's hard to be a good actor when your co-star isn't convincing anyone."

Why, indeed? Titus pretended to mull over the answer for a few seconds before shrugging. "I've been asking myself the same thing and the only satisfactory answer is boredom," he shot back just as humourlessly. He was bored to tears, yes, and there was also wanting to show these barbarian idiots that they were decades away of thinking like Romans, as their consistently flawed plans showed - yet voicing that would also allow them to gloat about the time they outsmarted him and its disastrous consequences, so he stayed quiet. Quiet, confused and annoyed.

So very annoyed, in fact, that he had no more patience for Zia's barbs. Turning his back on her, Titus went back to his seat and picked up the twig again, intent on resuming from where he had left off. "You've said your piece and I've said mine. Kindly fuck off and shut the door behind you, yes?" he grunted, pointedly avoiding eye contact and staring down at the piece of wood as though he was trying to set it on fire just by looking at it. He would take irritation over introspection; it was safer than trying to make heads or tails of the turmoil inside him.

@Sara

[Sara]

It was a few weeks later. She had been to see her husband a few times in those weeks, mainly just to prod and irritate him and fetch her son who was growing far too attached for her liking. But besides a few sarcastic comments pointed in his direction she hadn't made any effort to go along with his plan until today. She was dressed up in her finery, gold adorning her wrists, her throat, her fingers. Cothelas wanted to project wealth and stability and she was going to go along with the show. She just hoped their guest would hold up his end of the bargain in their plan. 

They had a few moments until the taxman arrived and Cothelas, Luto, Zia and a few attendants were gathered in a smaller antechamber to the main hall - were waiting for Titus' arrival. He'd been given a tunic and some kind of drapery that was apparently called a pallium although where the Dacian's had sourced it from, she had no idea. She drummed her finger on her hip as they waited for him. When the door finally opened, she glanced at him dispassionately before snapping herself out of it. If their plan was to succeed she'd need to bury her vitriol somewhere deep down. 

"Darling." She offered in Latin with a tight smile that would convince precisely nobody. She swanned over to him to tug at his hand and pull him into their little circle. She didn't miss the glance of disdain on Cothelas' face but he had agreed to Titus' plan and it was far too late to back out now. "The Publicanus is arriving in a few moments, and he's very excited to meet the happy couple I'm sure." She squeezed his fingers painfully  tightly, "So best behaviour, hmm?" 

 

TAG: @Liv

[Liv]

As a child Titus had imagined he would grow up to be many things, but actor had never been on the list. Facing the same hostile audience had not become any simpler despite repeated exposure, but he could at least muster a genuine smile at little Luto, who was eyeing the pallium with unabashed curiosity as the group made their way to the main hall. He supposed he should be thankful they had given him decent clothes, but couldn't quite find it in himself to act like it.

For a barbarian, Zia cleaned up nicely when she could be bothered to put in the effort. Still, not all the gold and finery in the world made her any easier to stomach. With his smile slipping dangerously into a scowl before he caught himself he squeezed back even harder, not caring in the least if one of them ended up with amputated fingers due to cut-off blood supply. "When am I ever not?"

He did not have any more time for sarcastic quips, though, as the man of the hour and his thankfully small entourage finally made their appearance. However Titus had pictured the publicanus in his head, he hadn't expected the other man to be so... young, for once - he looked to be around Titus' own age, maybe a couple of years older. Nor did he expect the tax collector to be broad and good-looking in the rough, rugged way provincials often were, although the man's eyes glinted with shrewdness. All in all he resembled a soldier more than a publicanus, in spite of the stubble that darkened his face; not that Titus could blame him, knowing first-hand how difficult it was to come across a skilled barber in this wretched land.

Fortunately the taxman turned out to be more amiable than most soldiers and wasted no time introducing himself in as Sextus Densus, come to collect poll and land taxes on behalf of the Empire and establish mutually beneficial relationships with the local tribes while he was at it. What exactly those entailed remained to be seen, but Titus suspected they included the diversion of some gold to the man's own pockets. Cultellus returned the greeting with accented platitudes of his own and supplied introductions that definitely raised questions already by the way Densus' eyebrows quirked.

Right, this was where it was paramount that they look and act the part of lovebirds, and convincingly too. As Cultellus directed them all towards the big table where the beginnings of a nice little banquet awaited (his best idea all week, really), Titus willed himself to think happy lovey thoughts, settling for a mental image of his favourite prostitute back in Rome when nothing else was forthcoming. At least he was able to produce a knowing smirk as he wrapped his arm round Zia's waist, and turned it into a sassy smile that brought a hint of pink to his cheeks as he shifted his thoughts to the harpy he called wife and how much they she benefited from that crazy herb. Maybe he couldn't play the hopeless romantic that well, but an enthusiastic newlywed who couldn't get enough of his bride might just do instead.

They had barely taken their seats and got their cups filled when Densus' sharp gaze landed on them, layered behind a friendly expression. "I must say I was quite surprised - and pleased, naturally - to make your acquaintance. It is... unusual to come across a couple of import of such different backgrounds," Densus began, making it clear he wouldn't have batted an eye at the average legionary and his local belle, or a camp follower enamoured with a big burly Dacian. To keep himself from snorting Titus took a sip of his wine and gave Zia a not-so-gentle nudge under the table with his foot. Women had a reputation for being flightier in matters of the heart in addition to chattier, so he would let her do the honours of explaining their love story to the publicanus in fine detail.

"Why don't you tell him, dear? You're so much better at this sort of thing than me," he coaxed in a light tone, exchanging a quick look with Zia before hiding behind his cup again lest he burst into a fit of sardonic laughter.

@Sara

[Sara]

Whatever Zia was expecting, this man was not it. She didn't consider herself a particularly feminine woman; she had very little desire to spend her time fawning over men, or fixating on her appliance. Her maternal instincts, even, were questionable but this man did something to her and it was...mildly infuriating. She wondered if her husband could sense it, as he approached and she felt a tugging deep in her belly and a flush come to her cheeks. She tried to ignore it and glanced at Titus, attempting  to make it appear as if she was flustered over her spouse rather than a stranger. How convincing she was, she didn't know. 

She was relieved when he turned his back and moved towards the table so she could have a moments reprieve from his scrutiny. Her grip on Titus' hand tightened, however, as he glanced up at the happy couple as they took their own seats. She feigned a smile. She'd rehearsed the story in her head a few times over (ever the meticulous planner) but suddenly felt very out of her depths. How foolish! How weak willed! 

She could have slapped Titus square across the face and had to tighten her grip on his hand to keep herself from doing exactly that. She saw his smirk, as she was sure so did the rest of the table. Fucking idiot. She turned her face to Densus and offered a light, breezy smile and a girlish giggle. "Oh it's a great story." She bit at her lip. Gods above she was disgusted with herself. "Well...my husband was with the Romans, of course, when they came and for some reason there was a battle." She blinked as if confused at the thought. Better to play the stupid, lovestruck young woman than admit the truth. Even if it was painful to do so for a man as good looking as their guest. "And...and they lost so he came here as a hostage, and I was asked to tend to him and well..." She ducked her head and sipped at her wine, another girlish giggle leaving her lips. "I...hadn't imagined that Romans could be so handsome, really. But I won't speak for him, and why he fell for somebody like me! But..." She looked up at Titus with a lovestruck, simpering look on her face, "Do you remember the first time you said you loved me?" 

 

TAG: @Liv

[Liv]

Whence or why those red cheeks suddenly appeared on Zia's face, Titus couldn't be entirely sure, but he did have an inkling. Interestingly enough, he found out he didn't like it. So a reasonable (although on occasion terribly stupid) specimen of fine senatorial stock such as himself evoked no passion in her, yet a burly and corrupt provincial did? Women were indeed strange creatures, and Barbarian ones even more so. Some saying about pearls and swine he had once heard from an acquaintance who had spent time in Judaea came to mind, but although it felt relevant Titus failed to recall the whole thing.

If only she could have been as convincing in every aspect! For what was supposed to be an adoring look, Zia was making a terrible job of it. Titus knew she was capable of producing genuine ones; he had witnessed more than a few every time little Luto was around and behaving. Maybe that was what good actors did to fool their audience, but that was a lesson come too late for the current ruse. He found it exceedingly hard to draw on previous experience to get out of the trap the sly bitch had set for him, though, because he had none. His late wife hadn't lived long enough for them to get to that stage, and drunken bouts of proclaiming his appreciation for his friends did not carry the meaning intended for the present situation.

Still, since Densus seemed to have swallowed her story with only a few reservations - slow nods, doubtful grunts, eyebrows shooting up into his somewhat receding hairline as if to reach father Jupiter - Titus supposed he could do no worse. A bit of liquid courage to make the lump in pit of his stomach easier to bear first, then a fond squeeze to the harpy's hand and a show of meeting her gaze with a cloyingly sweet one of his own, " Of course I do. I could never forget our wedding night," - and oh how true that was - and then the final touch of a bashful chuckle before he turned to the tax collector. "It's hardly unnatural to forge a special bond with the one person to show you kindness in a bad situation, wouldn't you agree?"

Densus did of course agree, and an inkling of understanding crept upon the man's handsome features. It would not be the first time a prisoner grew sympathetic towards their captor... or a tribe towards their publicanus. "Indeed it was a blessing that even in a complicated situation you found comfort in each other. That which starts bitter may sometimes end sweet," the man drawled in his raspy voice, dark blue eyes glinting. "And how very brave you two are, to defy tradition in the name of love. I can't imagine your Roman relatives were understanding?"  Densus suggested, training his shrewd gaze on Titus for an instant before directing it to Zia. "Or your tribesmen, that you held their enemy high above all others?"  The man's look didn't waver, clearly expecting an explanation. "Why would they listen to the whims of a besotted woman who is old enough to know better?"

@Sara 

[Sara]

Zia managed to keep her face painted in the sickly sweet image of somebody desperately in love. How, she didn't know and her spare hand repeatedly clenched and unclenched the fine fabric of her dress under the table, lest she be tempted to slap her husband square across his stupid face. 

She watched their guest drink in the story with only thinly veiled suspicion. Had the Romans never heard of love? Probably not, she supposed, given the men stayed away for so long on these foolhardy campaigns and the women must have been left to pick up the pieces. She didn't have time to ponder the thought any further as their handsome guests voice and eyes flicked across to her. She felt the colour come to her cheeks again and diverted her eyes to Titus, attempting to convey that it was her husband - not the musclebound stranger - who had evoked such a lustful look. 

"My tribesmen are pragmatists," She countered in that girlish voice but it had hardened. She didn't like what he was implying and Zia was struggling to control the ruse as she flicked her eyes back to him, "And fortunately - as I understand it - the politics of our match was good, not that such things really matter to me of course." She said with a light shrug, eyes trained shrewdly on their guest. She was struggling not to snap. "Although, I'm sure you didn't mean to imply I am dim? For falling in love?" She chuckled that girlish giggle and looked up at her husband with anger in her eyes. Gods these Romans! All of them insufferable! Even the handsome ones! "My husband may have something to say on that, if that is what you were implying." She gritted her jaw and Densus studied the pair. 

She watched his face move from calculating to accepting and back to suspicious. Finally the silence was broken and he chuckled, shrugging his shoulders. "Not implying anything at all, love is admirable, of course." He flicked his eyes back to Titus and then continued, in heavily accented, provincial Greek, "Though why you'd love a girl as flat chested as a plank of wood is anybody's guess. She...this marriage must be something...special, eh?" 

Zia didn't understand Greek - much to her irritation right now and she looked between the two men confused and concerned. Oh Gods what were they saying? She jabbed Titus in the leg with one of her spare fingers, as if to make the point; 'be careful now...'

 

TAG: @Liv

[Liv]

If only Zia was always this deferential, ‘my husband’ this and ‘my husband’ that, things might have turned out a bit differently. But just why she was looking at him in anger instead of the tax collector, Titus held no answer to. Fortunately Densus backtracked after a little while, before Titus had to do anything more than raise an eyebrow and look more than a little displeased with the turn the conversation had taken.

It came as a surprise that the publicanus also dabbled in Greek, and although his accent was atrocious and his wording inelegant, he made his point loud and clear. Titus' first instinct was to agree with the flat-chested part, and he had just begun to acquiesce when a sharp pressure on his leg stopped him. Right, a truly enamoured man would find no flaws in the object of their affections, if all those love-struck poets were anything to go by. They also wouldn't stand for said object to be insulted in their presence. Ugh.

"She makes up for it in other ways, although I don't expect you to be the sort of man who would appreciate any of them," Titus commented gaily in much smoother Greek, the curve of his lips hardening into a thin line before he continued in clear Latin. "My wife does not speak Greek. Latin is the standard around here, as I'm sure you well know. It would be impolite to deviate from it, especially given how hospitable her kin have been to you," he made a sweeping gesture towards the food and drink laid out before them. The tax collector had the decency of looking sheepish and his ears turned a shade redder even if his cheeks didn’t, but before he could talk his way out of it, Titus carried on as if Zal-what’s-his-name had personally appointed him orator defender of the Dacians. “Have you ever been to Britannia, Sextus Densus? There they welcome your sort with spears and stones, not banquets. It would serve you well to look favourably upon your circumstances, as it has me.”

A bald-faced lie if ever was one, but keeping the façade was important and if it came with the bonus of appeasing the tribe’s bigwigs and perhaps even the harpy, it couldn’t hurt. Feeling rather proud of himself, Titus took a sip of his wine, battling the impulse to treat Densus to a smug grin, and in what he thought was a stroke of genius, brought his free hand up to Zia’s cheek and gently ran his knuckles down the side of her face, shooting her a concerned glance as if wondering if his performance been good enough for this Cleopatra wannabe.

@Sara

[Sara]

Zia frowned as Titus retorted something in Greek, and judging by the way their handsome guest smirked - it was either something amusing or insulting (or possibly both). Idiots. But she quickly tuned her ear to Latin as Titus continued, and was relieved he was acting the part - or at least attempting to. Cothelas' Latin was only passable (the idiot had never committed much to studying it) but Zia's was excellent and she made a face to signal to her ex-father in law that he needn't be concerned. At least not yet. 

The man looked askance as Titus finished and cleared his throat as he obviously tried to scramble together some words. Zia, for her part, tried not to flinch as her husbands fingers trailed softly over the skin of her cheek.

Zia intervened as the silence beckoned on, muttering quietly to Titus; "Thank you." in Dacian with all the faux-tenderness she could muster, before glancing back to the tax collector. "My husband gets defensive, I apologise." She added with a girlish giggle that suited her as much as this whole loved-up show did (not at all). "You are very welcome here Sextus Densus, and I'm rather glad we have you this time. Cothelas, do you remember the one who came last time?" The elder chortled and nodded, replying in Dacian that he did, which Zia dutifully translated; "He was this old man, lecherous to boot who couldn't keep his hands to himself or his judgemental comments behind sealed lips." And he'd suffered for it, but that story was for another time. 

"Well...then I'm glad to be of service." Their guest finally said after another lingering silence. He might have been embarrassed, but Zia was not convinced he'd given up his suspicion. It was fair enough really, neither she nor Titus were actors and their situation was so odd. Fortunately for both of them, the publicanus had moved on to matters rather more serious. "Of course, we will need to re-evaluate the books this time around. After your...disagreement with your Roman guests," The man shot Titus a slightly withering look letting on quite clearly that he knew there had been a skirmish or a battle, and knew who was in control of the legion. Evidently he was better informed than the simple provincial tax collector they  had been expecting, "You may have more value than you did the last time around. Perhaps Titus Sulpicius can help me with the books?" He smirked a feline grin at the couple. He evidently knew something was up.

 

TAG: @Liv

[Liv]

Titus was a poor actor, but this Densus fellow was a boring one; his 'make sarky comment first, apologise later' gimmick was getting tiresome. Could he maybe be drunken into passed-out silence? Titus took a sip of his own drink, a little surprised that fingers hadn't melted off given the acid that Zia exuded. Too bad they all couldn't go the way of the previous publicanus, himself included.

At the man's biting words, Titus felt his cheeks heat up like a fire had been lit under his skin. The nerve of this arrogant provincial, thinking he could call him out like that! He regretted not having got the old man to lace their guest and his posse's wine, but quickly moved on to pondering how best to get rid of the nosy bastard. Doing away with a tax collector and the subsequent loss of revenue would surely set the imperial treasury on Densus' trail, which would result in comeuppance for the bloody Dacians. Exactly what Titus wanted, then. 

Or was it?

Bemused by the sudden indecision that welled up inside of him - and more than a little unsettled by the image of a very familiar four-year-old nailed to a cross and crying for his mummy that his mind felt the need to supply for some reason -, he put it aside for later brooding and settled for giving the publicanus a predatory smile. "I would be happy to. It is never a bad idea to pick up new skills." Such as cutting off Sextus Densus' hands and tongue, for example, before sending him back with the taxes due; that would require access to a sharp blade, though, and Cultellus and his gang still didn't seem too inclined to humour him with that. "When would you require my assistance? After the feast, or perhaps tomorrow? I don't know if you're the type to mix work and leisure." He gaze Zia a quick keen look, then affected a rueful smile. "Guess that's goodbye to your bracelet, honey." As if she only had the one! "Rome's unforgiving appetite for gold is well-known," he added, shooting Densus a smirk.

The man took the implication in his stride and waved a hand as if to say such things were beneath him, then raised his cup. "It would be discourteous of me to go into details of my work when you have been so kind to welcome me with good food and drink." And quite the farce, his dark blue eyes seemed to say. "Why, it might give you time to hide your precious goods before I got to them!" he chortled, slamming his fist down on the table and sending drops of wine flying everywhere. Sextus Densus too had his own farce to keep up, namely that of feigning a certain degree of drunkenness and the crass humour it brought. Titus' fingers tightened their grip round his cup, wanting nothing more than to smash it on the man's face, but he reigned in the impulse and instead inched closer to Zia to whisper to her. "Think the wine's not agreeing with our guest, dear...?" 

@Sara

[Sara]

Zia watched the interaction, trying to feign disinterest. Men didn't like clever women, or women that listened too intently to topics not meant for their sensitive, feminine, delicate little heads. But she was listening, rapt with the odd back and forth between her husband this handsome if insufferable man. She could feel Titus' annoyance emanate from him as if he was on fire. He really was a poor actor. 

"It's fortunate then, that I have more than one my love." She grinned that feline, predatory smile and waved a thin arm about until the gold bangles and bracelets jangled as if she was clad in wind chimes. The man's reaction, a gruff rebuke and a fist slammed onto the table didn't surprise her, but it seemed to for Titus. She merely smiled sweetly at their guest - who was momentarily distracted by a comely slave girl pouring more wine for him. She quietly retorted to Titus in Dacian - speaking slowly as if to a child; "That would be because I put poppy in it¹." She shrugged. Cothelas didn't have the balls to and wasn't aware of her plan.

"It'll make his tongue looser, before poor Densus has to make haste to bed because he's oh so sleepy. It gives us a chance to research his true intentions." She smirked. If he was passed out, he'd blame it on his own foolishness and it'd give the slave girl enough time to rifle through his belongings to find any notes for Titus to translate, to see if he really was here under the auspices of tax collection, or something more sinister. He wouldn't dare think he'd been drugged when they'd all been drinking the same wine - he'd seen it be poured himself from the same jug after all. The fool hadn't realised the drugs were already in his cup when the first wine had been poured in. Men are idiots. 

Zia reverted to Latin as Densus' momentary distraction with the slave girl came to an end. "She's pretty, no?" She gestured at the girl. "I'm sure this evening you'll find we're more generous than just with wine and our taxes." The man glanced back over his shoulder at the girl smiling coyly at him. Zia felt a ripple of annoyance that he wasn't half as intested in her (foolish, feminine thoughts she chided herself). Good job the slave girl was more than happy to help Zia's scheme. Mediocre sex, a rifle through some belongings, stealing a letter - all for a few days off. And of course, if she got caught, Zia and Cothelas could merely claim she was a thief and execute her. 

 

TAG: @Liv

¹Zia made some homemade 'cretic wine'

[Liv]

Women were idiots, and the one sat next to him more so than any other. The urge to admonish Zia for her hubris was too strong for Titus to overcome, and although he switched to his faltering but improving Dacian just to be on the safe side (might try and affect closeness while he was at it, because that was the most ridiculous thing of all), he took great delight in it. "Good job telling to him you have more bracelets. Now he will want all them." That was the worst thing about tax collectors, the more you owed the more you owned. Out to bleed people dry, the slimy lot of them.

It turned out their guest's exhilaration wasn't solely due to being thoroughly fed and entertained or to the quality of the vintage on offer. Titus knitted his brow, feeling fooled and foolish all at once. Why the Dacians had kept quiet about the wine to him was obvious, but no less annoying. The flower was pleasant enough even if it led to unnerving and absolutely regrettable experiences, but poppy? That was a game changer. He would have to go digging thoroughly one of these days, maybe even interrogate a slave or two. 

Densus, on the other hand, seemed to be none the wiser as he undressed the slave girl with his eyes - and none the wiser in more ways than one, for Titus knew that in spite of being a looker, this particular girl was no more animated than the marble statues that populated Rome. Whether it was thanks to ineptitude or inexperience, however, he didn't know, and had not been interested in finding out or remedying it after a lackadaisical, highly disappointing tryst. But that was for him, and eventually Densus, to rue and for Zia not to find out, he supposed.

"Indeed! Your generosity and kindness tonight are beyond anything I could have expected or hoped for." The publicanus stole a final glance at the slave girl before raising his cup in a toast his cronies were quick to join in on, praising Cultellus and his kin. Titus had to bite the inside of his lip hard enough to taste metal in order to stop himself from producing a derisive snicker, and instead mimicked their guest's gesture at thrice the speed, washing the blood down with his unfortunately unadulterated wine.

The compliment seemed to get tongues loosened and conversation flowing, the rudimentary exchanges punctuated by boisterous laughter and exaggerated gestures. Further down the table, an inebriated Dacian seemed to be having great fun demonstrating the size of his balls whilst one of the tax collector's goons was already pulling his tunic up and his subligaculum down for a comparison. Titus rolled his eyes and figured he could see if the publicanus was disposed to mindless chitchat; get him talking about little things so his tongue might loosen. "So where did you grow up, Sextus Densus? Not in Rome or Italia as far as I can tell." Nor Gallia, nor Britannia, and probably not Dacia either for obvious reasons. The man didn't seem to mind the question, and his mouth widened in a grin. "Ah, because of my accent? You're quite right! I grew up in Noricum, although my father was from Gaul."  For some reason the answer did not surprise Titus, though he politely nodded and kept inquiring as to the man's family, childhood and life in general - as if he gave a rat's arse! Still, the knowledge that Sextus Densus was divorced and childless and was now coming up on his second year in Dacian territory might turn out useful; no destitute widow and offspring or close connections that might want to investigate his thereabouts should he... mysteriously disappear. He hoped Zia had made the connection too, but if not - and this time Titus couldn't blame her, as Densus' increasingly slurred speech was starting to present a challenge even to him - he could always clue her in later.

Talking led to drinking which led to more talking which led to more drinking, and hopefully the publicanus was now sloshed enough to be as forthcoming about his duties as he had been about his private life. Titus wasn't entirely sober himself, but as he looked at his now empty cup and mourned the lack of sleep aid in it, he reckoned he was still in better shape than the man sat across the table, who was now blinking owlishly as he turned his head this and that way over his shoulder, almost as if he were looking for someone. "How have your duties been progressing with the other tribes? Got many of these?" he pointed at Zia's bracelet with a playful wink. "They're surprisingly well-made too, aren't they? Bet they'd be worth a fair bit if you were to sell them."

Did he sell them? Or did he keep them? Or did he deliver them to the imperial treasury as he was supposed to? 

@Sara

[Sara]

Zia had established fairly early on in Titus' captivity that Romans were inane conversationalists and why her husband was determined to root through the mans private life was beyond her comprehension. She had to physically cover her mouth with her palm, resting her elbow on the table, to prevent herself from yawning in boredom. Her apathy was only compounded by the increasingly slurred speech of the man sat across from her. Her Latin was excellent - and she was glad of it - but even with that, she was finding it increasingly difficult to decipher his strong accent, hiccups and mumbled words. Well, at least the poppy was working and she was hopeful he wasn't saying anything too indecent. Titus seemed undeterred though, which at least made her less wary. 

Zia watched the exchange with weariness and sighed into her palm as Titus progressed the conversation back to his duties. What did he hope to get out of this? She already had a plan that did not require an overt interrogation at the dinner table. The idiot. If she was more sympathetic to her husband, she would have considered that as Titus didn't know of her plan, she shouldn't begrudge his inquiries now. However, she was about as sympathetic as a stone and instead was just irritated. 

Irritated and then horrified by Densus' reaction to his latest inane question. The man grew silent for a moment and Zia wondered if he'd fallen asleep - but that was soon remedied as he heaved his bulky frame up - sending the chair he had been sitting on clattering to the floor behind him. He had to support himself by leaning on the table, fists clenched and body swaying as he shot a drunken, stupefied glower at Titus. "Yo...you insult m-my honour!" His roar echoed around the room and those eating fell silent. Zia wasn't prone to panic but she could sense the tension in the room and the way drunken men flirted with the hilts of their daggers. 

"I..." A hiccup, "I w-would never...never steal from the tree-treasury." He continued, enraged and he managed to lift a fist from the table to jab an accusatory finger at Titus. Zia wondered if he was actually furious because he was offended, or whether he was just putting on a show to disguise his actual guilt. She'd surely find out later. "You...you smug prick," The man muttered, "I...I am n-no thief. B-but I'd rather, rather be one than a m-man who lost a leg-legion to barbarians." He spat on the floor - whether that was an act at his disgust for her husband, or just a product of his inebriation Zia didn't know, "You are a-a disgrace." 

"Enough!" Zia stood, and held out a warning hand to Densus. She didn't see Titus next to her.

 

TAG: @Liv

[Liv]

What a good show the publicanus was putting on, at times mellow and at times spurred to action. Apparently his precious little pride was wounded by the insinuation that he might be less than incorruptible, which at first was amusing to Titus as he watched the other man grow quiet. Until Densus bit back with some choice accusations of his own and a pointed finger - then it was no longer amusing.

Hah! Like this poor excuse for a Roman had any honour to begin with! Titus crossed his arms and glared back, brow furrowed in patent displeasure. He didn't consider himself the most patient of men to begin with, and the way this idiot was running his gob was quickly exhausting what little he had left.

A disgrace. Well, no need to state the obvious in front of everybody. Then again, it wasn't any worse than what Titus had called himself time and again in his internal monologue, so why did it sting so painfully?

Why did it make him see red?

His body seemed to move on its own. Before he realised it, he had stood up and reached across the table to grab Densus by the collar and bash the man's head against the table, hard enough that he hoped it would leave an indentation on the wood. "Easy for a civilian to say, isn't it?" he growled between gritted teeth before pulling him up again and delivering an impressive (for his state of sobriety) right hook to the tax collector's odious, ruggedly handsome face and wipe that arrogant grin off his face. Titus thought he felt something crack pleasantly, but adrenaline and the ruckus that had erupted all around them made it impossible to tell if it had been his fingers or Densus' cheekbone. Hopefully the latter. He thought he heard Zia say something to his side, but whatever it was, it would prove ineffectual.

Chaos surrounded them. What had once been a tense but civil gathering had descended into anarchy, with pockets of Dacians and Romans going at each other not unlike the descriptions of fierce Gauls of old. At least two tables had been upturned, and Titus found himself rolling on the floor, mouth mysteriously full of blood that he noticed an instant later was thanks to Densus' fist making contact with his nose. How they had ended up down there he couldn't tell, but Mars damn him to Orcus and back if Titus wasn't going to teach this cunt a lesson he wouldn't forget!

Seconds passed, or maybe hours. Cultellus's voice could be heard here and there, drowned out by the sounds of a good old fistfight, but it wasn't until one of the musicians, presumably commanded by the chieftain, blew on his tuba with all his might that the fighting ceased as curious heads turned towards the sound, leaving limbs idle. Titus treated Densus to a kick to the jaw for good measure as he stood up, wobbling more than he would have liked but nevertheless satisfied to see a bloody tooth fly out of the publicanus' mouth at speed. 

"He was calling you all thieves and liars," was Titus' innocent justification as he wiped some blood off his face, only succeeding in coating his hand with it. Spitting out a not negligible amount of the thick fluid before it made him sick, he continued in an unusually nasal tone, appealing to Cultellus and Zia's sense of pride. "You welcomed him and his men with a banquet, and he thanked you for it with insults." Gods, his nose was really hurting now. Maybe it was broken after all. "Are you going to let him walk away, boasting of how easily you were deceived, pockets full of your gold and your wives' jewels?" How supremely unfair it would be if these barbarians did nothing to this crook, when they had had no qualms annihilating a legion.

In a more subdued and infinitely more tired tone, he cast Zia a pleading look. "And even if you are, can we please go to bed now?"

@Sara