A Roman Family

First original post!

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So. I've been a huge writer since I was little and have always loved making up and telling stories. I have been trying to keep up with my writing, but can never truly find the time... But since DXP has a writing section AND I have tons of free time at work during this time of year, I've decided to hop back on that writing horse and get my shit together.

Following is a story I wrote for my Greek and Roman History class I took 2 years ago. I loved the class and LOVED the topics the teacher asked for us to write about. It's kinda non-fiction-esk, this story, and takes the reader through 3 generations of a family that lived peacefully until their village was taken under Roman control. The time-frame of the story was created by using who's currently in the Roman Senate and other historical events specific to the time period. I don't explain them all, only hint at them, so if you become confused while reading feel free to PM me and I'll explain the scenario. It's a huge 10 page paper, so the posts will be long, but I'll try to make it easy to read. I have other, shorter stories, that I've written that I think I'll post as well.

I'm also working on an old story of mine that I haven't completed. If you enjoy my writing style I would hope you'll check out my future writing posts.

I want to get into the habit of actually sharing my writings and not keeping them to myself, reading them over and over lol. Please comment with critique! Constructive criticism is preferred. Also, thanks @blackphase for your encouraging words, I hope you like my story!

“We ran, and we ran until our legs burned; trying to get as much distance between us and the Roman cloud that was soon to descend upon our village.
The beast was on a rampage, and we did not wish to have you there when it chose to come over the mountains. With villages around us being taken
over, we though it safe to travel to a village already under their influence. With you and your brother, so young we knew the path to peace was best for our survival… But our village wished war. Your father was with us, along with grandpa and grandma. You remember them don't you? Well, let me tell you a story...” That's how my mother would always start the stories she told me. She never mentioned much of the travel here, recalling was far too painful. It was as if she blacked out the memories between us living in our home land and then being dumped onto Rome... but I was a young girl and remember much of it.

We did run all night. I remember being so frightened when my grandma came to wake my brother and I. With sleep still in my eyes we were whisked away from our bed. I was old enough to carry some important items and made sure to keep up along with my mother, father, and grandmother who held my brother bundled up as we raced towards the other town. It was another Gaul tribe that accepted Caesar's soldiers and became an outpost for the city. Papa said we could become partial citizens or civitas sine suffragio as they call it. We would be safe and with ma as pregnant as she was papa just wanted safety for his growing family. The next few days in our safe haven were pleasant, but with all the refugees from the other villages it became crowded and uncomfortable. People's tempers flared and thoughts of rebellion began to brew. Tribes’ people who were refused citizenship due to illness or overcrowding began to riot, doing their best to over throw the soldiers and reclaim the outpost as a neighboring clan once again. The Romans took the impudence as a sign from one of their gods, as though they were given the task to convert us all for our own sake. In effort to protect their soldiers they burned down the now refugee camp and enslaved those who were healthy enough to walk the long road back to Rome.

The fires took many and the long trek to Rome took even more. Upon arriving in the city as slaves it was only my mother, brother, and I who made it past the grand walls. I can remember feeling like the walls swallowed us up as we walked inside them, the huge wooden doors closing behind us as if by magic. From that moment on I knew this city would never let me go. No running in the valleys, playing in the lakes or streams... In my tribe I would be married soon and I would be starting a family of my own, passing on traditions I can barely remember now. A few years have passed, and with them my precious family. Ma died as a slave, the baby was aborted before her new master came and took her from us. The same man came back to complain to the slaver, claiming our mother had died and he wanted his coin restored. Soon my brother and I were sold and separated. He was off to a home in the East Villas and me to the West. I became the servant of Furia the wife of general Aulus Allienus. Being fair of skin and untouched was what saved me from other situations. I considered myself lucky for I have seen what is left for those not born under an auspicious star.

Here in the city people talk and I am always there to listen. There is always something interesting going on. Always a new rumor being spread or news of someone's family matters and even politics were discussed. I am only a slave and do not claim to know or care much for them but it is a daily part of life here in the city. The sights and smells of the market are always pleasant, given I stayed clear of the butcher's row. Of course some days I had no choice but to venture down the alley way as requested by my domiwa to gather some lamb shanks for the party she was throwing that evening. All of her fancy friends, wives of other generals or politicians, will come draped with their finest clothes and their nicest wigs. Gold and jewels falling from their pale arms and necks... Strutting around the villa like hens. The people view their husbands as power hungry but alas it is their wives who are the most vicious.

As I was out that day quite a lot of commotion, much more than usual was going on in the forum. A throng of people were clustered around the town crier, yells of “NO..!” and “Jupiter’s' mercy” came from them as the man yelled out his accounts. “On this day, the death of Roman Dictator Gaius Julius Caesar has been noted by the Senate! In his passing he leaves 300 sestertius each to his faithful and beloved peoples of Rome! May this buy you grain and meat for your day of mourning.” The other slaves with me began speaking quickly to each other in their native tongue and I stood there, in front of the butchers, mesmerized by what I heard. Caesar, the destroyer of my family is dead. Dead! Those around me could morn for 100 years and I shall revel in it! If only ma, papa... the rest of my family could of lived to see this day. We would have all cried with joy as the city rioted around us.

Shocked and confused at the loss of their master, the “People's Leader”. I had never been a part of a Rome that was not under the influence of Caesar but I looked forward to it with great prospects. People loved him and talk of him constantly. The crier was always reading off Caesar's words to us in the forum and markets telling us of his concern of the prices of grain and the mistreatment of Rome’s' soldiers and veterans. The appearances and stunts he pulled by throwing coins into crowds of adoring plebs or rebelling against the patrician politicians by tearing down the bleachers they coveted to view the ever present Triumphor Celebratory Parade. All this will be no more. I will never have to see his smug face again...

“Girl, wine with honey. Now.” Genovefa tossed her writings under a vase and ran to serve her domiwa. The writings weren't very good nor her grammar sound but she was determined to learn to read and write. “I will learn this language in all ways possible; upon the stone of Jupiter I promise myself this!” Running to the cellar to grab a jug marked “Wine-Honey” she was back in time to pour it into a small glazed cup for her mistress. The cup was fragile and nearly slipped from her hands as she passed it to her domiwa. “Clumsy slave!” the woman promptly slaps Genovefa across the face causing her to hold the jug tight as not to drop it either. “I know you have no care for fine things but this cup is worth more than you! Wretched slave... Leave.” Genovefa dips and mutters “domiwa” before she walks back to where she stashed her writings, tucking them into the folds of her dress and making her way to the slaves’ quarters.

Quickly darting down a long hallway adorned with a fantastic mosaic of the sea beyond the tall walls of the city and past the west peristyle and several cubiculum, she arrived at the slave’s quarters. She made her way to an empty bench to sit down and go over the poorly written story. “I cannot forget what little I remember. I will keep time with my journals... I will write everything down.” She smiled to herself, trying to ignore her burning cheek which was now turning a deep red. She was used to being treated like this but it has gotten worse recently. She had no clue as to what was going on but she has noticed the dwindling food stores and her domiwa's jewel box had gotten lighter. “Dominus has also been on edge lately. He hasn't laid with one of his preferred slaves for some days now and I sometimes catch him muttering to himself within the oecus when I bring him his afternoon tea.” she shrugs and lays down, enjoying rare time to herself before she is called off again for some task or chore. It was not her place to worry of such things, so she didn’t.

It was hot. Way too hot to be outside but it was Bricius’ job to aid the dictore and study the gladiators during their afternoon training. In just a few short years he would honor the house of Mediarti in the arena. He was of a stocky build with tanned skin, a common sign of a slave. He dreamed of the glories the arena would bring him but he was not too eager to die surrounded by raving people. Barbaric. He rather have the glory of a soldier, least this path left room to gain more standing, land, even a wife. He could pay for his freedom from his military salary and buy a plot of land, fighting for the city during war and enjoying peace by looking after his land and livestock. “Like old Cincinnatus I will be the perfect Roman citizen. Picking up my sword for glory and setting it down when other matters arise, ah yes... This is what I desire.”

The day went on and it was soon time for the end of training day which meant food and water for the tired gladiators. Everyone was laughing and talking to one another, a sea of dialects and languages. Though he could not understand many of them he knew they all spoke of the murder of Caesar. “Traitors! Both of them. Brutus and Crassus, how could they turn against a fellow politician with such menace? I know politicians are not the most straightforward of men but they must still have honor.” Bricius finished up his meal and began cleaning up after the men as they made their way to their quarters. Brotherhood was something foreign to Bricius. He vaguely remembered his family; his earliest memories are being taken from his faceless mother and sold to a family as their house slave. He was still young, no hair upon his body or face and his features still soft when he was sold to his first family.

After borrowing massive amounts of money, his purchase fee included, the families Sosius and Nonius who has been the loaners seized the property and those who used to beat him are now being beaten by their own masters. Knowing this satisfied him immensely. These accounts made him realize that the roles of those around him can flip in an instant. The mountain to success is hard but the fall is easy, it only takes just one stone to shift beneath ones sandal for all of what they have created to crumble down around them.

He had heard of how the late Dictator Gaius Julius Caesar had grown among the weeds to turn into a sturdy oak, taking the city that was continuously changing hands politically into an empire that connected and ruled multiple vassals; leaving the locals to their devices as long as they paid their dues to our mother, now their mother, Rome. Though Rome and her people are in mourning this enormous city never stops expanding and her citizens are never destitute for long, this he knew. He also knew that with the death of Caesar and the wanted prosecution of Crassus and Brutus could spur another civil war by the Triumvirs as they seize their enemies’ properties. This could mean a new outlook for Bricius, a career as a soldier not a gladiator and the possibility for growth.

It turned out, as Genovefa realized, her masters had run into financial issues. Her mistress, with all of her lavish parties, had nearly bankrupted her husband’s assets. The deficit was felt even more once the politicians crowed for money to aid in the senate prosecuting the men responsible for Caesar's death and in doing this they seized all of the property of people deemed “enemy of the republic”. This included the villa and all who inhabit it. Genovefa was taken and given to another general, higher in rank than the last. Gaius Asinius Pollio was a patrician born man and fared well in politics as he did in war. His wife,Varia, was a good woman but kept to herself. Genovefa was given to her as a gift and charged to look after her mistress of all hours of the day. “Time goes by so fast....” Varia murmurs to Genovefa “The older you become you realize how little time you have left. But the years have been good, my husband is consul and our family has always been on the winning side of things... My sweet children, such good children... Always quietly playing” Genovefa only listens. It is known the consul's wife is touched with the madness of Cassandra. She speaks and no one believes her, for there is no truth behind her words.

She has had children but they were all stillborn. Genovefa was there to witness the last disappointing pregnancy and it affected Varia immensely, so much in fact she could sometimes be seen talking to and rocking a bundle of cloth. Genovefa pitied the aging woman especially since she knew the child she carried belonged to her husband Pollio. It was not her choice to lay with him but one does what they must when they're a slave. Months went by and Genovefa gave birth to healthy twin boys. During the birth she was kept away in one of the smaller rooms in the villa and looked after by an older slave. To his delight Pollio now had two heirs and promptly gave the babies to his wife to rear, both deciding to name them Romulus and Remus. Unfortunately Genovefa was never able to care for the boys, even from afar. She died in child-birth and though this would be seen as a sad event her death gave her children better prospects in life. Being adopted by Romans they were considered patricians and full citizens. War was still being waged inside of Rome but luckily this family was in favor of Octavian and honored the city by building its first library, decorating it with statues of the gods, to win and keep their favor.

During the consulship of Domitius Ahenobarbus things began to stir up once again between Octavian and Antony. Though he was a sickly man and stayed away from the battle field, Octavian waged political war and those who followed his father’s rule followed him. By now Bricius had many a fight beneath his belt. At the age of 31 he had become quite the man, buying his freedom with the funds won from gladiator fights. He was out at market with his young wife Nivia, foreign born but a Roman citizen due to being born to free parents. Suddenly men on horses galloped from the north into the forum startling everyone. A trumpet was blown to call the attention of the people there. It was Octavian Augustus and he was holding a large scroll. He began to read:

“Attention all present. I, Gaius Julius Caesar Augustus, hold in my hands the will of Marcus Antonius the puppet of Egypt.” The whole forum goes quiet and everyone gathers around, Bricius and his wife included. “Though he has a good Roman wife, Antony has taken the bed of Cleopatra the whore queen of Egypt and sired two sons by her!” There were murmurs and boos of detest from the crowd as he continues. “It says here: I Marcus Antonius bequeath all of my properties not to the soldiers whom I commanded, nor my cohorts in Rome, but to my two children: Alexander Helios and Cleopatra Selene II. I leave them my fortune and all the land I own in Rome.” After listening to the speech the outraged crowd began shouting and cursing Antonius’ name. “So!” continues Octavian “He forsakes you all! His soldiers, his citizens, his consul, his senate. He denounces his mother Rome for the barbarians in Egypt. This will not do! This will be resolved and this will end now!” The men race off on their horses leaving the crowd fuming, the words of Octavian were still ringing in their ears. “War is coming...” whispered Nivia as she grabbed her husband's hand “Will we ever have peace?” “Peace is near my love, Octavian Augustus will lead us there, just as his father Caesar tried to do. Let us make our way home before this crowd decides to riot.”

They walked back to their small home. It was not the plot of land Bricius once dreamed of as a young man, he had no dirt for gardening or grass for livestock but with living in the city, this would be expected. “I cannot dream of seeing you go!” whined Nivia “You will never come back and leave me here widowed and old!” “Hush! Don't speak such nonsense, cursing your own husband. I have fought many a man in the arena and this war will not be my last.” Bricius was right, war did come and just one year after Octavian made his appearance in the forum. The Battle of Actium was waged in Greece and lasted a year. By the end of the battle Egypt had been taken under the control of Rome. This battle gave Bricius the opportunity to loot one of the richest cities in the world. Along with his soldier's wage he brought home jewelry, gold, and silver taken from the grand halls of the Egyptian people and even the throne room of Cleopatra herself. The men returned home satisfied with themselves, their spoils, and the suicide of Antonius and Cleopatra.

Nivia was over joyed to have her husband home and was dazzled by the things he brought back with him. From then on Bricius voted for Octavian, now known as Augustus, and stood behind all his policies. He prayed for him at the temples when he grew ill and taught his children to revere him as much as their father did. Once Augustus became well again Bricius was even part of a 3 year riot with other plebs, demanding their beloved Augustus to take up the consulship. Bricius and his family rejoiced when he accepted and made a point of attending the re-opening of multiple temples he had restored, his wife and daughter even adopted the hairstyle of Augustus' wife Livita. Years passed and eventually Bricius and Nivia left this world, both pleased that their children knew Rome as the peaceful and merciful city they believed it to be.

After the death of Imperator Caesar Divi Filius Augustus his adopted son, Tiberius Iulius Caesar Augustus, took on his tittle. It was a smooth succession and left room for mourning the death of the previous Augustus. The children of Bricius and Nivia were now married with children of their own. Their son Oppius married Plinia Arruntia, the daughter of Nonus a highly regarded man who held a seat on the Plebian Council. This allowed Oppius the opportunity to note the inner workings of politics and gives him more insight into this sub-world his father tried to pay close attention to. Though lofty, Oppius wished to change the tide of Tiberius' power. He might have been the son of Augustus, his father's favored ruler, but something did not sit well with Oppius. Tiberius did not have the zealous his late father had nor did he respect the people who worked beneath him. His personal affairs seemed to affect his emotions more than it should and his leadership was beginning to be questioned as such.

“Why would I wish to serve under a man who was seen crying, in the streets, in front of his divorced wife and begging her to take him back?! Weak is the man who goes back on decisions already made.” Oppius said, complaining to a fellow politician “Who wants a ruler like that? He won’t even take the name Imperator. Any man can see he is only trying to do as his father did but it does not translate well to the people. Also, he can’t even find a successor who is not cursed to die under curious circumstances! What will become of the empire?” his companion nodded in response “Oppius how right you are. Add murderous madman and recluse to that list my friend. When was the last time he spoke in public? I believe it was during the consul of Paullus Fabius Persicus... and now Vettius Rufus has that seat. Most upsetting, but I hear word of Tiberius appointing Caligula as his successor. How long do you think he shall last?” Oppius scoffed “We shall see. ‘Little Boots' is a military man and I have no knowledge of his politics.” The time they believed to come was closer than they predicted, for shortly after their conversation Tiberius meet his seemingly untimely end and Caligula moved in to take his place.

Things were good under the rule of Caligula for Otacilia and her husband Gallio Calidius. They moved from the city and now occupied a small plot of land they had bought with their savings and loans from her brother Oppius, which were quickly paid back. Gallio was a good friend of her fathers and an Eques so their livelihood depended on their horses and his fighting skills. Not only did his family deal with horses, they also were involved mining, shipping, and even tax-farming. Though the latter did not please Otacilia she knew her status improved the day she married him. She was able to do the very thing her father talked about and was grateful to him to give him honor by fulfilling a dream of his. “What a grand day the gods have blessed us with! Or should I say Caligula! Did I tell you he wishes to be called 'Jupiter' now?” remarked Gallio as they were out looking for new horses to breed “No husband” replied Otacilia “But this does not surprise.” “The first two years were perfect” he continued on “If only he kept his eyes in the correct direction and not strayed from the path! The gifts and extravagancies to the masses may not be wise for a man who uses not his own purse, but it did please the people and gave them more things to entertain themselves than drinking and causing idle ruckus.

The people adored him, maybe even as much as they did Caesar... Though Caesar had far more self-control than 'Little Boots' will ever have.” “You are right my husband” she said as they purchased a mare and proceed home “It is as though he has gone mad. They, the gods, must have cursed him for taking on their guise and name. He nearly killed off innocent Romans with his ships clogging up the ports, damaging business as well. He cares more for that horse than he does his sanity and Rome must pay the fine. This cannot go for much longer or mother Rome will see her streets filled with another civil war...” They returned home and placed the new horse within its stall. “Mark my words, darling wife, the days of Caligula are close at hand. Do not ask how I know but rest easy in the thought that the one to succeed him will be more of a level headed man.” Otacilia nodded and as told did not ask any questions but she knew the importance of the information he entrusted her with. Her husband may not be the party who will eventually confront Caligula, although he may have a hand in the forming of said party. Such were politics. A man of high standing should consider passing due to old age a blessing, for many in history have been robbed of the privilege.

Thanks so much!!!

I really do need to honor this part of myself more.

Speaking of honored... I know you've changed your photo but daaaamn woman, I'm honored to have such a beautiful Lady be my semi-astro twin lol. You could (and should :p) model!

And yes, you DO have that RBF on point! Stunning!