The following is a complete work of fiction inspired by Roman history, with a strong fantasy aspect for the use of artistic license. The original story which was previously posted on Literotica has been revamped. The idea of intrigue, betrayal and a power struggle is the still the same. However, changing from a Roman setting to a FANTASY setting allowed me to play more with the idea of pagan magic and other aspects that I found were limited in a historically accurate Roman setting. If you enjoyed the original, I am sure you will still enjoy this one. For those who wrote to me about this series regarding its lack of overly explicit sexual content, I will state for your peace of mind that it is NOT a stroke story. If that interests you, you'd be better off reading something else.
As always, the names, places and events are fictitious and this is meant merely to be a source of entertainment, not an accurate depiction of history.
Disclaimer:
The following story may contain erotic situations between consenting adults. If it is illegal for you to read this please leave now.
Any resemblance between the characters and any real life person is completely coincidental. Please do not copy or distribute the story without the author's permission.
Important -
Please feel free to send any feedback or comments through the writing journal or you can send it directly. Please just remember to add something in the subject line so I know it's not Spam. This is a new style for me so constructive commentary and suggestions are always welcome. Enjoy!
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The moon was full. It sat in the stormy sky like a bloated and watchful sentry, overlooking a city which would never be the same after this night. Life as all of Celaenia knew it would change. So had it been written in the stars, so would it be done.
Portia, only daughter of Emperor Traianvis Hadrianvs Avgustus, looked out from the balcony over the crashing waves of the sea and rolling mountains in the distance. This year the spring storms had been unusually violent; night and day the crash of the sea had echoed throughout the city until no man or woman within could sleep, and even the hounds whimpered mournfully. As she stared into night, Portia wondered if the Fates could see through the mists. They were the weavers of humanity's destiny, but tonight she would make her own.
She inhaled slowly as she stood at the balcony. Slender hands were as pale as the white silk that draped over her slender form and whispered in the wind. Luminous gray eyes watched the waves break along the shore in the far distance. Built on craggy cliffs and secured by the rolling mountains that bordered the country, Celeania was a city that had been built by blood and tears. Generations before her had died for these lands. Men had killed for it because the Empire was everything.
She turned slightly to look over her shoulder, her gaze distant as she looked at the bed and the man she had once respected so much. When she was a child, he had been her world. For twenty three years, she had struggled for his approval and done everything in her power to make him see that she would be able to follow in his footsteps. She was her father's only child and his disappointment had burned in her heart all of her life. She fanned that flame tonight, forcing herself to recall only the pain of inadequacy and the lack of a parent's love.
"For too long did I sit idly by and watched our people suffer for the mistakes that a mind feeble with age has made. For five years have I have ruled this empire under your heavy hand. I created a world that is both feared and respected. One day, Celaenia will be known as the most powerful civilization in the world and people will hail its great achievements. I did all this in your name instead of my own even as your mind and body weakened, and I never asked for anything in return and how is it that you choose to repay such loyalty and accomplishment?"
The frail body on the bed offered no answer to the softly spoken words. Her father lay on the bed looking up silently at the ceiling. For months his condition had been deteriorating and he had lost all ability to speak only a few days before. He could feel pain when he was injured, but he could not cry out. All he could do to communicate with his daughter was to blink.
It was pathetic.
Portia looked away from him for a moment. All of the lands as far as her gaze could trace, belonged to her people. They had been won through bitter wars and there was too much at stake to allow sentimentality and guilt to play a part in her plans. She had waited twenty three years for this moment.
All those years she had watched as her father mourned the fact that her mother had never given him a son. His daughter's beauty and intelligence were renowned, and yet never good enough for the one man whose approval she desired. It was an approval which had been elusive all of these years and yet she had tried to make him proud of her in every way that she could. She had kept trying even after the forgetful illness came upon him and his decisions which had once been respected for their fairness and foresight, began to reveal his level of intellectual deterioration. Portia had stepped in, to protect and guide the Empire in his stead.
She had allowed no one to know how quickly her father's condition had worsened. Only she and his faithful servant, Cauis, were allowed to see him during those times when he could not remember even his own name.
For the past five years, Portia had been the voice of the Emperor when he was silent, meeting with his counselors in order to decide the plans of action that would continue to build up Celaenia, and fulfill her fantasies of conquering the world. She had done all of this, to gain her father's favor. Instead he had done the unforgivable.
"Were I a man, you would surely have given me lands and titles. Yet the gods have cursed me by confining me to this female form. You, in your feebleness, do not feel I am worthy of ruling our country without a strong male hand to guide my every step and smother the greatness that I alone am responsible for."
She paused, moving slowly away from the balcony and over to the bed. The mattress sunk gently as it accepted her weight. Her father blinked up at her as she leaned over him, her touch almost gentle as she brushed his thinning hair back from his forehead. His skin was as cool and dry as a piece of papyrus, but his pulse sped up when her lips moved lightly across his forehead and drifted down to his ear. One hand rested on his chest, feeling his heart race.
Her hair was the same raven black her father's had once been, and their gazes were identical shades of a clear luminous gray. She was lovely and feminine, but she was her father's child. Beneath that elegantly coiffed hair, she was a woman who knew what she wanted, and who was willing to do anything to achieve her desires.
Anything.
"You forced a husband on me, father. In less than a months time you would have watched me become shackled to a man I do not even know. How could you? I can rule Celaenia alone. You know that I am strong enough. I am intelligent enough. You educated me for years and yet now you would deny me what is mine."
Her breath eased across his face and he blinked rapidly. "I do not know this man that you have chosen for me," she murmured. "He is nothing more than a name that I have grown to loathe more with every day that passes, and yet you expect me to trust him implicitly. You wish me to lay myself at his feet like a lovely rug to be admired and discarded when it suits him... No. I am sorry, Father. For the sake of Celaenia and its people, and for the protection of all that I consider sacred, I will not let you hand Celaenia over to an impostor. I will die first."
