Thread: SPQR (Roman and sincerelyyours)

Marcus Nerva Trajanus Augustus, ruler of the civilized world, Caesar, Imperator, Pontifex Maximus, Consul in Perpetua and now Dacius Maximus, crossed his arms as he stood in the grand hall of a leader soon to be no more. He lifted his hand, and the only sound of the room was one of death as the praetorian guardsman plunged his gladius into the soft flesh between neck and collarbone and cutting straight through the heart of a King. More specifically, one of Trajans most persistent neighbors, who had led his people, now citizens of a new province, in war on and off against Rome for almost five years. A war that had earned Decebalus of Dacia a clean, soldiers death instead of the garrote. As the corpse of the King prostrated itself before the emperor before Trajan one last time, he gave a sigh. Take it away, and bring forth the youngling. His command, law to his loyal men, was obeyed with judicious haste, and soon a more nobly-apportioned and garbed man appeared at the head of two Praetorians, pilum at the ready in case the boy was so foolish as to attempt to harm Caesar. Your father has been granted Elysium, the Emperor said flatly. Alexandros Decebal shed a few tears as the words he knew were coming finally came, but he knew now was the time for submission, not for grief. Someday this emperor would pay. Your majesty is most kind, the prince managed to say. Rome has no king, and you will not address me as such, Trajan said. You are to be welcomed as a new, loyal subject of our republic, as a full citizen. You should be honored. Republic. What a crock. Oh, the Romans still had their Senate, and their People, and all the pleasantries and devices of the ancient Constitution, but even most residents of the Imperial City herself knew that any semblance of Democracy or freedom beyond the immediate will of Caesar was a lie, long-abandoned in practice, sustained only by the residual fear among the emperors of assassination or the disfavor of the Gods. Still Alexandros had a part in this opera, one he would have to play will to win his own favor independent of Trajan and make his own life, perhaps one day assist his people, though under the yoke of Caesar, that was not likely to be really happen. Caesar is most kind, the Prince said. How may I serve you? How may you serve Rome, you mean, Trajan said. I am but her servant myself, and you shall be my subordinate but my comrade. Rise, Alexandros. The Prince stood up, gazing into Caesars eyes with his unique emerald green orbs, and knew it would be so easy to exploit his overconfidence, to use the dagger he even know concealed in his sleeve, and have his vengeance. But crucifixion was not a good way to go, and there were no guarantees, so the Prince withheld his vengeance. For now. Trajan laid a hand on his shoulder. You may serve by going to Rome, where you shall marry my cousin and make a new living for yourself. This is my reward to your father, for being a worthy opponent. And you, Caesar, where shall you go? Parthia, perhaps. Maybe even beyond. I do not expect to see Rome myself again, there is too much to be done. Too much destiny to live. Now, go. If he had only taken his chance Oh well. Alexandros knew that a journey awaited him, and would dream of where that journey would go, what he might find in the capital of the world, every night aboard the ship that sailed to take him there.