140AD - The Rise to Empress || [GxG] ||

Chapter 32

Translations:

Natura non constritatur. = Nature is not saddened.

Hiems = Winter

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It was a colder night than usual in Rome. Perhaps hiems was approaching again. Or perhaps the gods were reflecting the same despondent state Lexa was in. She had nowhere to go because Octavia would likely have Elena in tow at her villa and there was no way she was going to march in there with tears flowing from her eyes.

So Lexa saunters to the only place left to go where she wouldn't be disturbed. The one place that was used for chaos and mayhem, turned out to be the only place she would find peace.

The Colosseum.

The gates were left open since the games would start the following morning. A battle Lexa dreaded an incredible amount to fight because she was the epitome of an emotional mess. A mess that wouldn't be able to swing a blade effectively.

She feared this feeling; the feeling she knew she would experience at some point again. The many nights at sea allowed the apprehension to seep in whenever the silence allowed it to and now it was in full swing. Hopelessness. There weren't many things she had left, or people for that matter.

Two of the three people she had were probably spending the evening with each other and the third clearly wanted nothing to do with her. The third one that mattered most. Clarke. Her two strident words echoed through Lexa's mind. Get out.

Lexa couldn't blame Clarke for wanting her to leave, for wanting space to breathe but by gods did she wish it went a different way. But what different way was there when you learn that the woman you love is responsible for the death of your father? And that she was actively avoiding to tell you.

Sitting down in the middle of the Colosseum on the soft sand, Lexa curses herself, over and over again. She does it audibly, loud enough to hear if someone cared to listen. But there was no one there. Just the empty marble seats of the Colosseum to hear the harsh words she spoke.

She pulled her knees up to her chest and rested her head on them. There no longer was a stop to the tears she desperately tried to keep down, so she freely lets them roll down her cheeks. Clarke wasn't the only reason for her tears, but it certainly was the tipping point of the rock that was teetering at the edge of her cliff.

"Jupiter, what have you done to me?"

Lexa asks these words aloud to no one once again. She felt like the same empty shell of a woman as the day she watched her father being carried away to be buried in an unmarked grave underneath the oak tree that overlooked his vineyard.

She feels terrible for never returning to Polis, but then again it wasn't like she had an abundant amount of time to return. Perhaps it would be good to return home after the battle the following day to at least go see if the vineyard was still flourishing as she left it, and to see if the Gladiatorial academy was still standing. 

Lexa even considered staying there, if she were to return, for as long as it took to fix what Egypt broke inside of her. She didn't want to admit it and always tried to make light when the thought crossed her mind, but the truth was that Egypt left its mark. A deep one at that.

The smell of burning flesh wasn't something she could erase from her mind and the agonizing cries of men as they were struck down, reduced to only blood and flesh. Lexa remembered the day after the first battle as she stood on the dune that looked out over the battlefield with neat heaps of bodies stacked all over. The bodies were stripped of their armour so that it could be used again, and their jewelry to be used for war spoils.