Editor's note: this story contains scenes of incest or incest content.
*****
Cowritten by Alfie Quinn
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The Imperial City of Reme was ancient and sprawling, the beating heart of a thriving empire, an empire currently held in agonizing suspense over its future. The Prince-Consul, Gaius Julius, was dead, and all were in attendance to hear the reading of his final wishes, and to see him entombed with his forebears.
The people of noble birth gathered in the main courtyard of the palace itself, just inside the gates; behind them were the lesser houses of merchant princesses and distinguished military heroes; behind them was the rabble, spilling out through the gates and surrounding the palace, stretching throughout the city as far as the eye could see.
The royal family itself stood upon a large balcony, arranged before the masses, resplendent in their finery. The Prince-Consul's sisters, all famed for their beauty, and his nephew, a young boy of only twenty years who had loved his royal uncle greatly.
Black was much in evidence that day.
But it was no member of House Julii who spoke to the stately assembly below and the thronging masses beyond. It was the Voice of the Prince-Consul, his chief advisor, closest confidant, and executor of his will in all things in his absence, Agrippina.
"People of Reme," her words echoed throughout the city, repeated by Cryers who heard were chosen for excellent hearing. "Prince-Consul Gaius Julius was a veteran of a dozen campaigns before he ascended his father's throne with the blessings of the gods." A pause, a cheer from the crowd. "He brought fortune and glory to our illustrious Empire during his reign, and personally led the final campaign against the Elves of the Grey Mountains, ending the war with a decisive battle, but not before receiving a most grievous wound that would prove his undoing after months of valiant struggle.
"It is on this day that we consign his remains to their final rest, and on this day that the senate has unanimously voted him Caesar!"
Another pause in the oration, this time filled with the wild roaring of the nobles and the hoard of citizens behind them, a fervent cheer for their much beloved ruler as he was granted the highest title in death that so few ever achieved, a title second only to that of Emperor, which none may hold by the will of the gods, until all of the continent of Weyland was united under one banner.
A growing silence spread amongst the high born as the broad doors of the palace proper slowly swung open, and Caesar was borne forth. The casket, made from the richest dark woods taken from the Grey Mountains that were his end and inlaid with gold wrought so finely to display his final battle and mortal wounding along the sides, was closed. His death-mask was carved upon the lid, stern and strong-featured for all to see as it toured the city so all might pay respects; carried upon the shoulders of six of his own royal guard, fully armed and armored to defend him on his final march, full helms hiding their faces. Thus he would be bid farewell by his people before returning to the palace and being interred beneath the Temple of All Gods.
Such a somber procession could take hours to perform, even days depend on how the people behaved, so ancient custom did not demand the silence once the glorious dead were out of sight.
"As it is known," Agrippina began again once her old friend and mentor passed out of sight. "Caesar Gaius took no wife and fathered no bastards besides. As decreed by the gods in times long lost, he has instead chosen an heir from his father's house."
At this the royals behind her began to perk up. Such circumstances were rare, but not unheard of, and the tradition was a well-known way to stop wars for succession before they could begin. None seemed perkier however than the obvious choice, and had the Lady Venus Julius a tail with feathers, it would have fanned in a display that would make a peacock fume with jealousy. As it was, she made due with straightening her her neck and squaring her shoulders, pushing her breasts out against her tastefully-plain-but-still-clinging black dress as a serving girl subtly slipped out onto the balcony with a small, black satin pillow in her hands, a golden laurel resting on top of it.
"It is by Caesar Gaius' own decree that I do name his heir-" Agrippina proclaimed, turning to the royal family and gently taking the laurel from the cushion and holding it aloft for all to see, before she set it with reverence, not upon the carefully styled golden coiffure of Gaius' older sister, but upon the flowing raven locks of her son.
"Augustus Julius, Prince-Consul and supreme ruler of the Holy Empire of Reme!"
If the crowd had cheered and roared before, it positively exploded now. A wild cheer was common at a coronation, but there was more to this than celebration.
There was confusion, even outrage!
Augustus was known at court as a boy with no ambition beyond whose bed he could slip into next. He wasn't even the heir to his mother's estate. Nothing, it was commonly known, but a shameless whore and leech.
And none were more surprised at this turn of events than he.
It is custom for the newly-crowned to give a speech, and as Prince-Consul(however recent the title may have been), Augustus could not defy this custom. So he followed where Agrippina, his inherited Voice, beckoned, stood at the edge of the great balcony and looked out upon the people.
His people.
"I do not-" he began, pausing suddenly to collect his thoughts. "I can only hope to prove worthy of this responsibility my honored Uncle has entrusted to me." After another moment's pause he added: "And let this day be known forever after as a day of friendship and thanks, and remembrance of a great man. A most holy day!"
A ragged cheer went up from the crowd beyond the gates, and there was a polite applause from the smaller group in the courtyard. After all, who didn't love a holdiay? For a man such as Gaius, the holiday would be a grand one indeed, fuill of feasting and drinking and merriment, but for now it was a day of mourning.
With nothing left to say, the Prince-Consul turned to his Voice, who proceeded to guide him from the balcony. His family followed, listening as the somber woman softly praised him for the brevity and humility of his speech.
The newly-made Queen-Mother Venus kept a serene smile on her face while they were on the balcony, dropping it in favor of seething fury as she was within the walls of the palace proper.
Before she could vent her spleen however, Agrippina motioned to a pair of guards to approach.
"I'm sure you wish to mourn your brother," the Voice said, giving Venus a most congenial smile. "As well as reflect upon the honorable burden he has placed upon his nephew. These two shall escort you to your apartments."
With that, the two armored women approached the three sisters, ready to guide them to their quarters elsewhere in the palace while Agrippina led the Prince-Consul to the royal suite. If they happened to block Venus from following her son, surely that was by accident.
*~*~*
The royal apartments were easily the largest suite of living quarters Augustus had ever seen, and in any other circumstance he would have delighted in exploring. as it was, he was rather numb to the splendor of the rooms that were now his. He turned slowly, looking at the room without seeing until he was facing Agrippina.
The crowds outside would have seen her strawberry-blonde hair cascading down her back, and the black mourning dress; they would not have seen her green eyes, or the swell of her considerable bust, or the trimness of her waist, or the flare of her hips. Augustus had seen this all before, as he'd been close to his uncle and had come to visit many times, but it was like he was seeing her for the first time.
"I'm not sure what to do," he said eventually, idly playing with the hem of his tunic as he looked up at her. She was quite tall, so was every woman Augstus had met. Perhaps he was quite short. He hadn't met many ment to compare, and Gaius was a giant in his memory. "What to do now, I mean. It can't be as simple as a few words and a hat, can it?"
He's still so cute, she thought, looking him up and down now that they were alone together. Her eyes were drawn to his hands, soft dainty things that played the satin hem of his tunic; then his legs long despite his height, pale and smooth from a life of luxury, his calves only accentuated by the long straps of his sandals.
"Don't the gods need to... Approve of me, or something?" he asked, taking her silence as a que to be specific. "And the highborn, they have to swear fealty, right?"
"Correct on all counts, your Grace," she said, her gaze meeting his sapphire eyes. She took the briefest of moments to admire his soft, effeminate face, as well as the subtle eyeliner and shadow. Nothing garish, just enough to look his best for a funeral. "But the Temple will allow none but the Priestesses inside until your royal uncle returns and is laid to rest. The hour his tomb is sealed, you shall be summoned for the ritual. As for fealty, as well as all other pieces of Royal business, it is custom for the newly crowned to receive a day of rest, that you might plan, or simply enjoy yourself in private for a day."
"Enjoy myself?" the boy asked, only for Agrippina to smile and clap her hands twice.
At this signal, several wall-hangings stirred in their places before being pushed aside from behind, revealing several secret passages from which poured scores of women. They came in all sizes and colors, some taller than any woman Augustus had ever seen, some shorter than even him. Most were human, some were not; a mix of elves from the east with their pale skin and almond eyes, and elves from the north with skin the color of storm clouds and hair white as snow, were among humans of all colors.
