Chariots of Ecstasy
By Buffenator
Walking through the streets
My head held high as I
Travel the path to certain death
I will not let them see my fear
Plucked from death, seemingly at random
To live in a palatial villa
My Roman captor a mystery
As I am lavished by slaves
Dusk in the garden
The evening meal finished
A form catches my eye
Chiseled from the very Gods
Angelus! The Roman barbarian
Who tried to have me as his
That familiar itch in my forehead
Returns as his eyes burn through me
I�ve learned so much at the hands
Of a body slave, but his hard
Cut body calls to me
Awakens nerves I never knew existed
His body rages through me
I ride beyond Mount Olympus
On chariots of ecstasy
Led by hungry wild stallions
The pleasure, the pain come to an end
In breathless waves of tension and release
He holds me in his strong arms and whispers
�This is only the beginning, my sweet.�
�Spoils� Part I ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Princess Plum Jade
Rated �R� for language and sexual suggestion (WARNING! Subsequent chapters do reach NC-17 and include female slash and some non-consentual acts.)
I do not own Angelus (such a pity!) Or Cordelia Chase...These characters belong to Joss Whedon and Co. I adjusted Cordelia�s name (Kordelia) because it is the Classical Greek spelling that would have been used in the time in question...
Summary: Pure fantasy smut...I�m just dying to see Angelus in a himation!...It is 28 B.C. in Rome, the most powerful city in the western world...Queen Kleopatra is dead, Egypt and all it�s treasure has been annexed to the Roman Empire...Kordelia Apollodorus is being led to a certain execution... and finds herself in the care of Drusus Angelus, an old family �friend.�
I adore feedback and CONSTRUCTIVE criticism; reply at [email protected]
27 B.C. Rome The Appian Way
Part I
I will not cry, Kordelia promised herself. I won�t let them see how they�ve hurt me, how they frighten me.
Kordelia Apollodorus, daughter of one of the most powerful families in Alexandria, was only seventeen years old. But she was a master at expressing disdain for social inferiors and she had been raised from childhood to understand that all Romans were socially inferior to Alexandrians.
It made no difference that her country was fallen and her family disgraced because of their close alliance with Queen Kleopatra and her consort Marcus Antonius. It made no difference that Octavian had kept Kordelia under house arrest for nearly two years and now paraded her in his triumphant procession through the streets of his barbaric capitol with other disgraced nobles, captives, and treasure from all of Egypt.
It didn�t even make a difference that her life was forfeit.
All that mattered was holding her composure, keeping her dignity for the last few hours she had to live. And letting those filthy ignorant barbarians know they were still her social inferiors. The gold chains and shackles binding her limbs could not change that.
Rachael, her handmaid who had also been her nurse, kept her more substantial body between Kordelia and the crowds of Romans who came to jeer at the prisoners and gawk at the wondrous displays of wealth and power stolen by Octavian�s army. Rachael did her best to emulate Kordelia�s cold dignity, but frequently found herself in painful tears. A simple bond-servant, Rachael�s life was of no great importance�she would be sold off once this disgusting triumph for Caesar was over.
Kordelia�s family was too politically important for her to be allowed to live. When this degrading walk was over, Kordelia would be strangled to death, like a common criminal, her dead body thrown in the Tiber River to rot without any of the funeral honors she deserved.
The beautiful and vibrant young woman Rachael had loved and helped to raise would be executed as a lowly traitor, an enemy to the Roman people.
�Look at Apollodorus�s daughter!� some nobody shouted from the crowd. �The Gypo�s fucktoy!�
�Apollodorus!� another nobody shouted. More nobodies took up the cry.
�Kleopatra�s errand-boy!�
�Did you ever perform for the Ptolemy Bitch Queen?�
�Of course she has! Look at that mouth!� Hard laughter. �Gypo bitches fuck anything! I�ve seen it in the arena!�
Rachael wondered how anyone could be truly amused by the sight of a beautiful young girl headed towards certain death.
Kordelia strode past them, stony-faced, head held high. Red-hot rage burned in her heart. The Roman propaganda machine. How dare they speak about her father that way? About her? About the Queen? The sick rumors spread throughout Rome about Kleopatra�s bizarre sexual proclivities would have been funny. Except for the fact that these turnip heads believed them.
Gods damn Octavian for his treachery, his arrogance! That pervert was too sick and cowardly to lead his own armies!
And here, in his homeland, the hordes of people hailed and lauded him Caesar Augustus, the �Majestic One.�
�Please Rachael, don�t cry anymore,� Kordelia gritted out from her teeth. �I can bear it all if you just don�t cry.� She kept her voice smooth almost to the very end. �It�s not that much further.�
** *** **
Drusus Angelus Dominicus watched Caesar�s triumph with a mixture of annoyance and satisfaction. He was pleased by the display of slaves and precious metals and treasure taken from Egypt. He had loaned Octavian substantial sums of money to finance this little war and, from the look of the spoils, he�d be repaid sevenfold. It was even rumored that the value of gold and silver might drop since Rome had acquired so much of it from Kleopatra�s vast treasuries.
He was annoyed because the late afternoon sun was stifling him. Angelus had dressed in flowing Moorish robes with a covered turban that shaded his face entirely. He wished all the pomp and ceremony would end soon, so he could go safely indoors. Still, better to brave the killing sunlight than be labeled an influential citizen of questionable loyalty to the new up-and-coming ruler.
Kordelia...
Angelus stared down from the elegant gate over the Appian Way in amazement. He hadn�t seen her since she was a child, but he had no doubt it was she. He had the same peculiar feeling, the eerie tingling in his forehead, the sudden unbidden instinct to want her.
It was the same sensation he�d felt when Kordelia was only seven years old and he was a visitor in Apollodorus�s house. Unlike the man�s older sons she hadn�t been the slightest bit afraid of him. She�d chatted and romped, and climbed up into Angelus�s lap like he was an old friend she had known for years.
Apollodorus had been appalled by her forward behavior, but Angelus had been stunned. For over two centuries, Angelus had been dangerous, bestial, predatory, and he was well used to children fearing and disliking him on sight.
Oh yes, the children always knew.
Apollodorus had sent Kordelia away and apologized. Angelus had offered negotiation for a betrothal. He had not expected to be refused. He was a beneficial ally, very rich, and had Octavian�s ear. Apollodorus had refused him, graciously enough, but also very firmly. It was plain Apollodorus had no intention of marrying his youngest child and only daughter to a western barbarian. Even if he had to do business with the barbarian for his Queen.
Angelus had considered killing Apollodorus on the spot and taking the child away with him, but caution had prevailed. At the time, Egypt and Rome had been intimate friends. Julius Caesar would have hated having to apologize and offer restitution for such a trick. These things had not mattered, though, Angelus was a creature who acted for his own interests and pleasures. The most convincing argument had been Angelus�s own: what was he supposed to do with a seven-year-old brat?
She wasn�t a brat anymore, Angelus noted cooly through the narrow opening of his veiled turban. Kordelia was dusty and dirty, her pretty skin reddened by too much sun. But her figure was lovely, tall and fit with rounded curves just where they should be. Her head was covered by a veil, but Angelus knew her hair was thick and dark and wavy. His body stirred and hardened.
He knew just what to do with her now.
Kordelia�s hands were bound in the gold chains used to distinguish the prisoners of noble lineage. She was accompanied by an older serving woman, a Jewess. She walked beside Kordelia and shielded her with her own body when the more rambunctious masses in the crowd threw rotten food and offal at the captives.
Angelus growled low in his throat at their abuse. If it were not still daylight...
Kordelia had to know she was marching towards ignominious execution, but she walked along as though she was Octavian�s guest of honor at a banquet. Her full lower lip was tight with tension, but her back was straight, her head was high and proud.
Outrage flared up within Angelus at the thought of her execution, the very idea of her dying in anyone�s hands but his.
Quickly, he sent one of his slaves to fetch paper, pens and ink. It was time to congratulate Caesar Augustus on his victory, and remind him who his friends were.
Part II (NC-17 for language and female slash)
"Spoils" Contents
Princess Plum Jade's Fan Fiction Page
Buffenator's Poetry Pages