Forbidden

Chapter 21

The day was still young, and yet Aeliana and Atilius sat together as though the night were approaching and with it, the end of the world. There they sat, in a cell under the Colosseum, a princess and a gladiator. Both were prisoners to the wrath of the Second General. Terentius. Aeliana, with her temple against Atilius' shoulder, breathed calmly as his fingers gently ran through her hair.

"We should run away, Atilius." Aeliana whispered. He chuckled heartily, yet quietly. "Run away?" He whispered, "Where would we run?" Aeliana closed her eyes harshly. Images of her recent experiences danced through her vision like smoke from a fire danced through the sky. Feeling safe enough to be vulnerable, Aeliana let a tear roll down her cheek. "Away, Atilius."

Aeliana opened her eyes once more, and stared at the ceiling above her. "Away from Terentius and my family and Rome." she continued, her voice shaking violently. Atilius sighed heavily and looked at her face. She knew that they would never be able to run off and live a life together. That was not the fate that the gods chose for them. Their destiny was violent and cruel and it would always be violent and cruel no matter what decision they made in any given situation. They were never in the favour of any luck. But they could pretend. Aeliana knew that she could pretend, as she always did, that she was okay. And that she was not hurt, or tired, or scared. And so Aeliana pretended.

She pretended, as though a child would, that her life was perfect- magnificent. She spoke to Atilius for what felt like days about their future. Each word was a lie, to herself. Each word a dagger in her pre-damaged spine.

"We will run to Greece. Find shelter in the forests. We will walk to the heart of the city each day for work. You see, I would sew cloths, or work in the temples. You would build houses," she touched his muscular arm, "and that would give us enough drachma to feed ourselves and clothe us. Before we leave, I will steal as much as I can from the palace. Then we will never look back."

Atilius nodded and smiled, but his eyes were glazed over as he stared at the ceiling and clutched Aeliana's hand in one of his own, and a pendant on his neck in the other.

"We can have children, Atilius." She continued. "We will have a boy and he will have dark hair like his mother and his father's blue eyes. Then a daughter- her hair will grow long and it will shine gold as the sun, such as her father's, and her eyes will be a shade of green as near to an emerald as humanly possible. The boy will be called Dilios and the girl-" "Caiusa" Atilius interrupted, and kept a stony expression. "C-Caiusa? Are you jesting, Atilius?" He looked at Aeliana and gave a smile, but his eyes were very serious. "I am not one to jest in such serious conversation, Aeliana. We would name the boy Dilios and the girl would be named Caiusa, such as the name of your brother, Caius. Therefore we name our children after each of our brothers." Aeliana smiled as a tear rolled down her cheek. "It is beautiful."

They lay in silence, holding each others hands tightly. Foot steps could be heard making their way towards the cell they sat in, and Aeliana had a feeling in her gut that this was the last time she would see her lover in such kind affairs. Astinos came to the cell door and smiled sadly. "I am truly sorry.. Aeliana, I must take you home now." he said, and Aeliana was finding it hard to keep herself from weeping in Atilius' chest. "Princessa," Atilius whispered as he stood from the bed and pulled his necklace over his head, "take this." A few tears streamed down her face. He wiped them away and placed the necklace round her thin neck. The pendant, a small figure of Ares, Greek god of war, lay perfectly against her collarbone, and it made Atilius want to kiss her neck and her face and her hands and just her. They hugged tightly, exchanged small pecks on the cheek, and Aeliana left.

Atilius slowly walked towards the hot, wet wall and kicked it hard. Pain shot up his leg and each cut and bruise felt as if it were being stabbed, but his anger far exceeded the war in his mind.

He quickly sat down and hung his head between his legs and squeezed his head with his hands and screamed. He looked over and saw that a piece of Aeliana's robes had ripped of, so he picked it up and smelled it and tears started streaming down his face as he lay back down on his bed with the cloth gripped tightly in his calloused hands.