Chapter Five, From A Mother To A
Daughter.
"LOVE IS WHAT YOU DESERVE"

⚔︎

THEN.

Octavia Amulius' limbs were aching, every fibre of her body burning with endless exhaustion.

It was as if her own body was giving up on her. Her bones screamed for rest bite, her skin felt irritated and raw, her stomach growled with hunger from where she had been too busy, so busy that she didn't even think to saturate her own hunger. And the tiredness, the tiredness was what affected the woman most of all. It was an unwavering feeling of exhaustion that the woman couldn't quite grasp. She knew she should take herself to bed and allow the maids to tend to the lady of the house. But Octavia did not trust them in the same magnitude as herself. Especially when it came to her own mother's health, and more importantly, the stability of her life that kept faltering day after day, night after night since her diagnosis only months ago now.

It wouldn't be long now. Octavia Amulius knew that much for sure.

Fortuna Amulius' health had been endlessly deteriorating since the moment Octavia found her mother's frail frame on the ground of their family home, specks of crimson dripping from her lips as she coughed and spluttered, gasping for air. Octavia had done everything necessary to improve her mother's health, but they were al only temporary measures before she would get worse again. She learned not even the finest remedies and methods could prevent the inevitable, the harrowing end she knew would befall her mother one way or another. The disease that ate and consumed Fortuna's lungs had taken its toll, and now, it would only be days before the woman took her last breath with Octavia at her side, holding onto her hand for dear life, scared of letting go and accepting the harsh reality of her mother's fate.

Octavia's mother was dying, and it was just a matter of time before she would have to say goodbye.

Octavia did not know what to think about the concept of saying her farewells to the same woman who gave her life. Her mother went through hours of blood, sweat, tears and agonising pain to bring her into the world, and over the years, Octavia never thought she would have to bury her own mother. To lay her body in the dirt and allow the woman to meet her ancestors on the other side, her spirit moving from this life, to the next. It was incomprehensible, the mere thought of having to make those preparations, and have to do it completely alone while her father was overseas fighting the Emperors pointless wars. It scared her very being, leaving her in a bottomless pit of self doubt and fear.

But Octavia knew she had to maintain a strong front in her mother's presence. She was the one who was dying after all. If anyone should be scared, it should be Fortuna Amulius.

So, without giving it another thought, Octavia gently wrapped her trembling hand around the handle that led into her mother's room, ignoring the aches in her body before she inhaled sharply and pushed open the door. On the other side of the door was Fortuna Amulius, lying helplessly in her bed, her frail and skinny frame sinking into the sheets, all while her sickly and pale features adorned into her sunken face. Octavia hesitated at first, still holding the breath she inhaled seconds before entering the room, before she found the courage to release it, a quiet sigh full of exasperation leaving her lips. And when she heard the shallow breaths leaving her mother's lips, that was when Octavia felt her chest tighten in the midst of her own sadness and despair.

How was she already grieving the loss of someone who was still yet to die?

And her heart only seemed to sink to the pit in her stomach when she saw her mother turn to look at her. Fortuna Amulius laid her sights on her daughter, and it was as if Octavia was basking in this radiant and golden aura. It made the woman crack a small smile. Proud was an understatement when describing how she felt about the strong and beautiful woman her daughter had become. She could have never imagined the little newborn babe she cradled in her arms moments after giving birth would grow to be the woman standing before her now. And for that, her daughter's presence in the room with her was enough to stir some joy in her. Even while on her deathbed, she smiled.

"Octavia, my dearest daughter." Fortuna only just found herself managing to speak, her voice hoarse as the earnest words trickled past her cracked lips.

Octavia felt like a small child again, waiting at the door with her hands clasped tightly together, an underlining feeling of uncertainty and shyness taking over her very being. She never thought she would be made to feel this small again. She was grown. She would one day be in a position to marry a noble man and bear his children — and yet — here she was, now standing at the foot of her mother's bed, feeling like that little girl again who was always afraid of losing her parents. That fear would now come to life, and it never felt more real in her life until this very moment. It made her chest tight with anguish, and her hands clammy with this suffocating dread that threatened to choke her until her lungs gave out.

The same way she was bound to lose her own mother any day now.

And yet, Fortuna continued to smile admiringly at her daughter as she lifted her frail hand and held it out. Octavia could not help but notice how the woman's hand trembled slightly, like it was heavy for her to lift her own limb. That's how weak she was now. "Sit with me in my final moments," She asked, sounding hopeful.

Octavia did not try to deny her mother's final request. Instead, she joined her at her bedside, sitting down on the edge of the bed with that same heavy feeling burrowed deep within her ribcage. Octavia then smoothed out the crinkles in her white dress before she let out a gentle sigh and turned to face her mother, forcing a smile, but one filled with sadness. However, Fortuna could see straight through her own child's act. That, and it was difficult not to notice the stray tear that started to roll down her daughter's cheek. This caused for Fortuna to reach up and gently brush the tear away from Octavia's warm skin, and Octavia couldn't help but melt into her mother's touch, the woman's hand now caressing her cheek.

"I'm sorry," Octavia apologised, her voice beginning to shake as she lowered her gaze to avoid her mother's eyes.

Fortuna couldn't resist the urge to pull a face full of bewilderment and confusion, her brows laced in beads of sweat furrowing together. "Whatever for?" She questioned.

Octavia sniffled slightly, feeling her mother's touch leave her cheek as the woman laid it back down to her side. "For not being able to do more for you. I have tried every single remedy and cure to help rid you of this sickness, but nothing I did made a difference," She explained.

"Nonsense," Fortuna replied, shaking her head, all while she continued to smile. "You have done more than enough for me while your father has been away fighting these wars."

Octavia's eyes then met her mother's again, her tears beginning to blind her vision. "But it was not enough, mother." Octavia wiped away her tears after she had spoken. When she lowered her trembling hand, Fortuna reached over and grabbed her daughter's hand with her own, giving her a gentle and reassuring squeeze with all the strength the woman could still muster up.

"Do not let me hear you speak so lowly of yourself, Octavia. You have done everything you could have possibly done for me. This disease was going to kill me. You knew that. Your father knew it. And so did I. Everything you have done, it was to make me comfortable in these final moments. You have succeeded in that task — and for that — I am eternally grateful." Fortuna scolded in a kind and reassuring manner, easing Octavia's worries and self doubt in herself, even if it was just for a moment. "If anything, I should be apologising to you."

Upon hearing those words leave her mother's lips, Octavia shook her head, her lips parting to speak once again. "You do not need to apologise to me," She retorted kindly.

"But, I do," Fortuna corrected, her eyes becoming teary in the process. She then began to gently trace her thumb over the skin of Octavia's hand. "Before I fell ill, you were going to leave home and find yourself a noble and good man to marry. You were going to start a family of your own, and I held you back from what you wanted," She explained, her own voice beginning shake, like she was wracked with this undeniable guilt that she couldn't shake.

Octavia Amulius did not know what to say at first. She didn't even know her mother felt this way. Days before her mother fell ill, Octavia was going to leave for the Roman city, and try and find herself a husband as that was what was expected of a woman her age. She should've done it sooner, but she would not become another child bride, and so she waited. But Fortuna fell ill and with her husband away fighting wars, Octavia had to step up and take care of her. Well, she didn't have to. She chose to stay behind and take care of the woman who had spent her entire life raising her while Octavia's father was travelling across seas and partaking in battles he never wanted to be a part of to begin with.

Truth is, Octavia never regretted her decision to remain at home and nurse her mother to the best of her ability. But she had no idea how much guilt her own mother must have felt knowing she was the one who held Octavia back from her dream. That was when Octavia placed her other hand on top of her mother's, the heat coming from her hands bringing some warmth to Fortuna's cold palm. "And I do not regret a single day I got to spend with you. You do not need to feel guilty for that," She reassured, a much more genuine smile compared to before now etched at the corners of her lips.

"Will you promise me something then?" Fortuna asked rather abruptly, and Octavia looked back at her, nodding her head while she waited for her mother to speak again. "When I pass onto the next life and rejoin my ancestors, I want you to leave this place and start that family that you have dreamed of since you were a little girl. Promise me that," She pleaded, her voice softening, but Octavia could still hear the desperation that clung onto every word that slipped past her lips.

Octavia simply nodded her head in response, swearing to honour her mother's dying wish for her to find the happiness she yearned for. That was when a thought crossed her mind. "I do not believe there are many good men left in Rome during these dark times," Octavia admitted, laughing off her statement, but there was no denying her disappointment. Good and noble men were difficult to come bye these days.

"That is not true. There are still good men out there. You just have to trust your gut when it tells you that man is one of the good ones," Fortuna corrected again.

"How did you know father was one of the good ones?" Octavia inquired curiously, still not letting go of her mother's hands. She wanted to cling onto the woman for as long as she could.

Octavia's innocent question was enough to make Fortuna Amulius let out a quiet and hoarse chuckle, reminiscent of a memory that felt like a lifetime ago. "Well, your father and I met in India after he and a few other Roman soldiers came through looking for some rest bite. When our eyes met for the first time, it was like the entire world shifted. I was nothing more than a simple maid, and he was a wealthy soldier. I did not believe he would be the man to whisk me away from the life I had before. However, in the two weeks he spent with me, we talked about a lot. You know how your father likes to talk..."

Octavia couldn't help but laugh in response as she nodded her head. Her father was always a storyteller. He used to tell Octavia stories all about his adventures when she was just a mere child. Whenever he returned from war, there was always another story to tell, and Octavia never got bored of them until she grew up and learned they were just stories. The real adventure her father experienced firsthand was a lot more bloody and brutal, so brutal that her childlike mind was too young and often too naive to understand the truth of her father's harrowing role in the Empire. But knowing Florian Amulius did his best to hide the reality behind a world of fiction just for her was a small act of kindness that Octavia always appreciated about her father.

Fortuna then explained, "Somehow after every conversation we shared, I was left wanting more. It didn't exactly take long for me to fall in love with your father. Little did I know at the time, he had fallen in love with me too, and I believed for that to be impossible because I was nothing more than a maid in rags. However, he asked me to return to Rome with him, and I did, and despite what his parents thought, we still got married, and then we had you, and that was the greatest gift of them all."

Octavia cracked another smile. She had never heard the story of how her parents met until now. Until this very moment and time, she had not even thought to ask, and now she was happy she had. Fortuna then smiled again too, "You asked, how I knew your father was one of the good ones? It was because he did not care for what rank I was at the time. All that mattered was how gentle and well-spoken he was when we were together. Men like him with power are often cruel, but not your father. And that is the kind of love I hope you find one day, my dear daughter — full of love and pure joy when you're together. That is what you should find in a man."

Fortuna held onto Octavia's hand even tighter than before, her eyes meeting her daughter's again. "That, my dear, is the love you deserve."

NOW.

When Octavia Amulius stepped into the cell perfectly curated to keep slaves and gladiators alike inside, she was not frightened of the very man standing before her. Most people, especially after witnessing a violent duel as vicious, and as brutal as the one from the party, would've ran into the opposite direction. But Octavia was no stranger to the violence, and was often forced to embrace it. Whether she was another individual watching the fights unravel in the colosseum, or witnessing first hand the truth nature of the harshness of such violence at the hands of the emperor, Octavia had grown accustomed to such things, even if they were full of animosity and depravity.

To put it quite plainly, Octavia knew there were always worst things to fear in the city of Rome. Those violent men should've been one of them. Specifically this one man she had laid her eyes on back at the party when she watched him fight to save his own life.

And yet, she lifted her gaze to see the Macrinus' gladiator from the party earlier the same day, standing on the other side of the cell wearing nothing more than some tattered material around his waist, and the woman didn't feel a single ounce of fear in his presence. Her sheepish gaze lingered on him for a moment, taking in every detail that stuck out to her; the wounds she would be attending to, most important the large and open gash on the side of his forehead. She then took in the sight of his bare chest and the muscles that pulsated from beneath his skin, from his abdomen to his strong biceps. And then her eyes found his own, those piercing blue eyes that stared into her's, Octavia felt her breath become caught in the back of her throat.

She noticed a sadness in his eyes that glimmered against the rays of evening sun that pierced its way into the cage. Whatever this gladiator had faced before coming here to Rome, Octavia emphasised with that pain, and could see through the cold-hard exterior the man had tried so hard to exude. Octavia could do this because she herself had endured many trials and tribulations in the last year, none that would compare to what this one man had faced, but enough for her to noticed true and undeniable sorrow when she saw it. And through the rage he exhibited earlier today, Octavia knew he didn't just lose his home, he lost something else, something that was once his entire world.

     Octavia Amulius was all too familiar with that feeling. Losing her mother, being separated from her father, and now the loss of her own freedom, it was incomprehensible.

"You should sit," Octavia instructed softly, gesturing towards the stone wall that appeared to be his bed. Octavia cringed at the sight, knowing she would go back to the palace and sleep in the comfort of her warm bed, all while this gladiator was forced to sleep on a bed of stone. "A head injury is a serious one. I'm surprised you're still standing with a gash like that. I will need to clean and stitch it to prevent an infection," She elaborated.

The man said nothing in response. He simply followed Octavia's instructions and took a seat before she slowly but confidently joined him, taking a seat beside him as she opened the box that was gifted to her by Ravi. Octavia peered inside it and noticed every single piece of contents at her disposal. It reminded her of the days she cared for her ailing mother. Octavia didn't know if she would ever see a kit like this again, and for some reason, it made her feel like her old self again, like she was beginning to regain a broken fragment of her past she had tried to forget a long time ago.

Octavia picked up the necessary tools, wetting a rag with a cleaning agent before she looked back at the gladiator, slowly reaching forward with her free hand. However, he hesitated, like he was shying away from her touch. Octavia hesitated at first, wondering if it was safe to reach out again. But she ignored those doubts and pushed them aside as she stretched her hand out again, and this time he did not pull back. Octavia then trace her fingers along his jawline, the prickly hairs of his beard brushing against her skin before she tilted his head to the side, all so she could get a better view of the cut imbedded into the skin of his forehead.

     Octavia lifted her other hand and gently dabbed the damp piece of cloth against the cut across the man's forehead, cleaning up the dry blood and any bacteria that had been caught in his flesh since his fight at the party. These cells didn't look like the most sanitary place in the world, so she wanted to take extra precautions and ensure his cut was rid of any unwanted bacteria that could cause a deadly infection. Although she didn't know of this man's existence until earlier today, she didn't want to see him die because of something so simple and preventable.

     She then listened as the man sitting beside her winced in pain. Octavia had to fight the urge to laugh out loud, or to even crack a smile. This man was a skilled fighter and warrior. He surely has endured worse than this, and he was reacting to a mild stinging sensation to the side of his forehead. Octavia couldn't help but be amused by this. "You know, anyone would believe you weren't a skilled warrior by the way you are acting right now," She commented, and once again, she was only met with silence.

     "Funny," Octavia replied, continuing to clean out the gash, her brown doe eyes occasionally flickering to the man's bright blue eyes. "Macrinus warned me you weren't afraid to speak your mind, and now I can't get a word out of you," She told him, a small smile ghosting across her lips.

     The gladiator scoffed, "Macrinus warned me to be careful with what I say around you. He said it was a gift that the emperor sent you to care for me, so I should be respectful and bite down on my tongue."

     Octavia let out a chuckle as she wiped away the last of the dry, excess blood around the gash. She then placed the rag — now soaked in a crimson colour — down, before she picked up a hook that glistened in the sunlight peaking through into the cell and threaded some string through the piece of sharp metal. "A gift? What else did he tell you then?" She interrogated further, curiosity laced in her voice as the words slipped past her lips.

"That I should know better than to offend you," He breathed out. "He said you would have no problem running back to your husband, and he is a little more on the overprotective side, so come morning, he would have me stringed up in front of the entire city."

"He is not my husband," Octavia was quick to object, not even hesitating to correct the man.

It made her skin practically crawl whenever someone referred to Geta as her husband. Octavia knew it would become her reality in just a couple of weeks, but for now, she wanted to hold onto the life of an unmarried woman for just a little while longer. And she believed the man sitting with her knew that because he noticed the desire in her voice to correct him. He knew it was unlike a woman to not be excited about the man she was betrothed to, especially if she was marrying a man she supposedly loved, and yet, she had to make it clear she was not tethered to him just yet. It left him wondering where the distain came from, and what was the root of it?

"But he will be your husband soon." It wasn't even a question. He was correcting her right back, giving her a taste of her own medicine.

Octavia shook her head in response. "Regardless, you can speak freely with me. What we say here will remain between us," She reassured him. And it was true. Octavia never talked to Geta unless he spoke to her first. If she had it her way, she would try and never speak to him again. "Starting with your name. I do not like referring to you as a gladiator. You were a man with a life before all of this, so you should be referred to as such," She suggested.

The man hesitated at first, but in the end, he reluctantly gave his name, "Hanno."

"Well, Hanno, my name is Octavia, but you already knew that," Octavia introduced herself as she reached up and got ready to begin stitching up the wound on his head. "Just going to warn you now, this will hurt," She warned. The man — Hanno — inhaled sharply as Octavia forced the sharp point of the hook underneath his skin, forcing Hanno to breathe out shakily as she pulled the thread through, beginning to close up the gash deep in the side of his skull.

     "So, the emperor said you nursed your own mother?" He asked, his voice breaking through the brief moment of silence.

     Octavia nodded her head again. "My father was busy overseas fighting wars, and I was stubborn. I did not trust anyone else with my mother's life other than my own. So, I taught myself how to take care of her. I, at least, made her comfortable before she succumbed to her sickness," She confessed, being truthful, more truthful to complete stranger than she has with anyone else in her life.

     "What about you?" Octavia asked, deciding to divert the topic when the mention of her mother caused for a dry lump to form in the back of her throat. "The poem you recited at the party, it's a Roman poem. You did not hear that from where you're from," She commented as she continued to stitch up the wound, pulling the hook through his flesh again.

     Hanno hummed quietly. "A good verse travels far," He confessed. "I was keeping an eye on a Roman guard we managed to capture and he would recite it to me. It left a strong impression," He elaborated.

     Octavia did not buy that excuse. It was a famous poem here in the city of Rome. She had heard it during her teachings as a young child, and she recited it herself again and again until she remembered it word for word. It was hard to believe one man recited it back to the gladiator over countless days and nights. It was a believable response. But there was just something about Hanno that left Octavia Amulius wondering if he was always telling her the full truth. Or was he trying to hide something that he didn't want anyone else to know?

     But instead of questioning him further, she decided to change the subject again. "I am sure Numidia was a beautiful place to learn poetry," She told him, finishing up the last few stitches as she continued to pull the two folds of flesh across his forehead back together. "And I am sorry about the destruction of your city. I could not imagine the death and destruction that followed. What you lost, it had to have been inconceivable," She added, offering her dearest apologies and deep sympathy for the carnage caused at the hands of the Roman army.

Except her apology was not received well by Hanno, who let out a bitter chuckle full of amusement. "You can save your apologies for someone who wants to listen," He replied bluntly.

Octavia furrowed her brows in confusion as she used a small knife to cut the thread. She placed the hook down into the box before she picked up a small pot of natural herbal remedies, putting some on her finger as she began to smear it gently over the stitches. The natural remedies would provide an extra barrier against infection. "What do you mean?" She questioned.

"Apologising on behalf of Rome when the man you're marrying was the one who gave the orders to have my home destroyed, all so you can clear your own conscience..." Hanno paused. Octavia left was a little taken back as she put everything back in the box next to her. But he was angry. How could she blame him when it was Geta — the man she would soon call her husband — who gave the order to take everything from him. "But just because you did not take pleasure in the entertainment at that party today, does not mean you are better than everyone else. Your father is still a part of the army who took everything from me."

Octavia shakes her head, now frowning. "It isn't like that—"

"It is exactly like that," Hanno interjected, cutting her off. "You can apologise, but after we're done here, you will go back to that palace you call home, and pretend I no longer exist. You can act like you are better than everyone else, but you still dress in those dresses and wear diamonds stolen from foreign lands because you are too afraid to admit you are just like everyone else that lives here in Rome."

     Octavia Amulius did not know what to say in response. She was rendered speechless upon hearing those remarks and wretched words leave Hanno's lips. Not because he was right about her, because deep down, she knew he was right. But she was speechless because at the same time, he was wrong about every detail of her life. Hanno did not know her, the real her, or the things she was forced to endure as a woman in Rome. Why would he? She didn't feel inclined to tell him her life story when she didn't owe him it to begin with. And in that moment she avoided his gaze until she mistakenly allowed her eyes to find his again, watching as his hardened and cold gaze stared into her soul.

     "My apologies, My Lady, did I offend you?" He spoke up again, his vicious and bitter tone dripping in sarcasm.

     However, Octavia did not want to give him the satisfaction of being offended by his words. So, she hummed quietly before she let out a sigh, her eyes never leaving his. "Not at all," She retorted, picking up the box before she stood back up onto her feet and headed towards the exit.

     But Octavia couldn't help but stop in her tracks, slowly turning around to face Hanno again, watching as his eyes met her own. "You want the truth?" She asked in a rhetorical manner. The man said nothing, and instead, he just looked back at her coldly. "You're the one who has no clue. But I wouldn't expect you to understand for you are not from around here. So, I will give you a piece of advice — just because you impressed the emperor today does not mean he won't have you killed in that arena. You have to be smart to withstand the enemies he throws at you. Or you will be nothing more than just another dead man, forgotten by everyone, remembered by none."

Hanno continued to stare back at Octavia, surprised by her response. He then watched as a small smirk ghosted across her lips, but the bitter glint in her dark eyes shined against the beams of sunlight peaking through the four walls of his cell. "Good luck tomorrow, for it may be your last...Gladiator."

     Octavia then turned her back on Hanno and left the cage he remained trapped in alone, and now that he was alone, he was starting to think he did not know the woman as much as he thought he did.

     And she left him wanting to know more.

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authors note.
I'm starting this off by saying sorry for like the 2 week wait after I said you guys wouldn't be waiting long for this chapter, but that stupid wattpad glitch made it basically impossible to write. I was in the trenches guys for real, BUT how are we feeling about Octavia and Lucius' first proper interaction. They kinda don't like each other at the moment for obvious reasons but I promise that won't last long!!! but I loved writing the tension towards the end, it felt very on brand for Lucius to be a little bit bitter towards Octavia, but there will be development guys I swear!!

Also I hope it's okay that I'm dragging this story on the way I am. I kinda realised we haven't even gotten to the first game in the colosseum yet and thought "damn, are you guys getting bored?" I hope you guys are honestly okay with the way I'm handling this story and its timeline. (It's like a 3 hour movie, so I have to add some stuff to drag it out a little more) and the first game will be happening in chapter 7 so now long to go, there's just a lot of in between stuff happening and I really enjoy a lot of the au stuff I've been putting out at the moment.

But until then I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter and I will be starting the process of writing the next chapter asap so it will be up next week!!