Weight of Living Pt. I (Closed, with Irradiatedwarden)

[sumurset]

A previously silent city was suddenly brought to life. Leathered feet hit earth, and people cheered. Though it was late and the sun was set, Rome's people lined her streets. They had been awaiting Octavius--the fallen Caesar's adopted son, the boy who had brought the triumvirate back to Rome and restored her glory. Glory that continued to shine in the hearts of the people.


The cheering continued. With it, Octavius's smile grew until it was nearly blinding. Fresh from a successful battle, he stood at his second-in-command's side; a fist thrown to the heavens in salutation.


Though his body ached from physical exertion, his mind felt light with joy. It was always a rush to return home with a victory under his belt. A rush to see his people smiling back at him: all rays of light in their own way.


As he marched towards the capitol, he turned his grin to the man beside him. Cicero.


A firm smack on his back, and Octavius couldn't contain the giddy chuckle that escaped him.


"We did well, you know! This will be written in history books! Your name by mine, written under Phillipi. There's nothing on this earth that could stop us."

 

[Interstellar Bun]

Cicero was always by Octavius's side these days. While once the young soldier was all but unknown to the masses, invisible to those he wished to impress, he now stood beside the most powerful man in Rome, a brave leader, a valiant warrior, and someone he put more trust in than he thought possible.


His muscles ached, armor dented and broken in a few places leaving blood to spatter against the metal. Wounds were nothing new to him. Under the armor, pale scars crossed his tanned flesh like road maps, a history of where he had been.


But now, none of that mattered. Now, he finally mattered.


A chuckle rumbled in his chest as Octavius hit his back.


"Well? Caesar I have never known you to be so humble! This is a night for the books indeed. Octavius Caesar finally doesn't have an ego that crushes half of Rome." He made a wide motion with his hand, grinning at his friend, his commander.

 

[sumurset]

Octavius nearly snorted in an attempt not to laugh aloud.


Instead, an awkward huff escaped him as his eyes wrinkled at their corners in a large grin.


Cicero, the only man who dared tease a Caesar and the only man who could get away with it.


They continued to stroll to the capitol. It was there that he had to put on a serious face.


Clearing his throat, Octavius took a stand behind his podium and addressed the people. By now the sun had set. The building was lit by hundreds of lamps and the pale light of the moon. It cast shadows on Caesar's face; accentuating his jaw and cheek bones. He looked like a god in that moment.


He felt like one too, as the reflection of a lamp flickered in his iris.


"My people. The treacherous Brutus and Cassius have been slain. You may rest easy, now, knowing the conspirators are dead."


He paused as they cheered.


"This day our names go down in history. Not only mine, not only my legatus, no--yours as well. We all share a victory today..."





His speech continued. Compared to Antony, he may not have been exemplary with words, but he wasn't bad. That was certain. The people were engrossed in his words: cheering, yelling, and generally celebrating. By the end of it, everyone's spirits were high. He offered them a good night's rest, and then parted. Octavius's pace matched Cicero's as they left to their quarters.


"Do you suppose I did well back there?"


Octavius looked up at his friend. Though he had shown confidence--emanated it, even--he had honestly been nervous. Speaking before thousands of people with the threat of personality was a heavy thing to bear.


Sometimes he needed reassurance. And who better than his best friend?