Price of Love- Slave!GreecexRoman!Reader part 4

Reader's POV

The sun was slowly creeping up the next time you opened your eyes. It seemed to be time to be up and at the day. After all, to be awake was to be alive. Anyone who did not get up at the brink of dawn (excluding sick people) would be considered either lazy, or a drunken fool. Sleeping in was a very bad idea in Rome.

You threw your feet off your bed and yawned as you stood, stretching out your  arms. Heracles was already gone. No surprise there. The day always started early for slaves, and he did have a few things he had to do besides your commands.

Cassia, the young slave girl who helped you dress slid silently into the room. You could dress yourself, really, you could. It wasn't all that difficult. But, it would be wrong for someone of you high status to stoop so low. So, you allowed her to put your stola on over your tunica, followed by one of your palla. Today, your palla was (f/c).

Cassia quickly set about fixing your hair. Honestly, you had no idea how to fix your hair. It was a complete mystery to you. You yourself wouldn't have minded doing little or nothing to it, but it would, yet again, be improper for you to appear so ill kept.

After that it was time for your makeup. You were very glad that women who wore too much makeup were considered evil, or likely a prostitute. The stuff was heavy, smelly, and uncomfortable. You always tried to forget what it was made of too. The thought of having some creature's pee or melted fat applied to your face was less than pleasant.

When you were finally done the sun was well up and shining brightly into thee room. It was probably near eight o'clock. With her head slightly bowed, Cassia lifted up your mirror for you to look in. Your face was white, and your eyes were framed with a slight touch of black, not too heavy or gooey. Your lips were painted a slight shade of red. In all, you were an attractive young woman. This could be as bad as it was good in some cases. Your mind flickered to Marcus.

You would be attending a dinner party held by one of your "friends" that night, so it only made sense to dress in a manner that would be acceptable at that party as well as during the day. Naturally your makeup would have to be redone. It was a shame but nothing could be done.

Cassia quickly drenched you in perfume as you started towards the door. You stopped to glare at her before throwing aside the curtain-door that led to your room and stomping out.

The courtyard was a very lovely place. There were many different and exotic types of flowers that your father and brother had taken from their journeys to far off lands. They gave a lively colorful look to the cold stones that made up your world. You had heard about the land beyond Rome, and you had seen the green hills from taller buildings, but you had never stepped from the city. The world outside sounded wonderful and exciting to you. But, it was dangerous out there and you were a prestigious Roman woman. It wasn't your place to seek adventure.

Before you got to the family shrine you stopped to pick two roses to give. The incense tickled your nose as you kneeled in front of the small structure and you resisted the urge to sneeze as you said a quick prayer and left your roses. That was done. Now the next step in your morning would be to eat some breakfast.

You sat in your wooden chair at the table and ordered the waiting slave to get you some bread and cheese. You weren't really hungry this morning. Come to think of it, you had gotten to where you rarely were hungry. Oh well. So what if you could count your ribs? At least you weren't fat like that cow Gaius was. Gaius was yet another rich Roman playing for your affections and failing miserably.

A man with graying blond hair stepped into the room and took his spot in the grander chair at the end of the table, close to you. "Salvē Father," you said brightly. You could always change your mood for him. After all, he was the only person in the world whom you truly cared for.

"Salvē my precious," he smiled back. A slave bustled in caring the bread and cheese you had asked for, and you noticed a concerned look on your father's face as it was set in front of you. "You haven't been eating much lately. Are you well?" your father might have been getting old, but his mind was as sharp as one of the soldier's spears.

"I'm fine father, you don't need to worry so," you said quietly, beginning to nibble on your warm bread.

"I just want you to be happy," he said, giving you an earnest look.

"I know," you said, and smiled at him.

Just then, Heracles seemed to suddenly appear beside and slightly behind you. You looked up at him, but his face was an unemotional mask. You sighed slightly and went back to eating.

>~time skip~<

You tapped your foot impatiently as some slaves prepared your litter. You were going to go shopping for a new piece of jewelry to wear to the party that night.

You stepped into the litter and held tight to the arms as the slaves lifted it. They were fairly synced but it was still a bumpy ride up.

"To the market," you said, waving the slaves forward.

The marketplace was loud and full of people. It was the most lively place in Rome, at least on a daily basis. Small shops lined the streets, and peddlers pushed their carts around, calling to people to buy their items. You bobbed along, looking down at all of the people and carefully scrutinizing for jewelry sellers.

"Stop!" you ordered. "Over there," you pointed towards a shop that looked promising, and the litter slowly bobbed over the crowds in at direction.


Greece's POV


Heracles stood patiently next to the litter. His mistress had gone out on walks before, but this was the first time she ever had gone out in her litter with a specific purpose in mind. They'd stopped at several shops so far, and the morning was beginning to morph into afternoon.

He was starting to get tired of the shopping. He didn't mind the shopping itself, or even how long it was taking really, but he was very tired of the metal ball, which was not only heavy, but also heating up because of the sun. It was really beginning to hurt his arms.

He was hoping that _____ had found something to buy. It was a plain red stone on a thin leather braid. The salesman was busy bragging about how he'd plucked it off of the dead body of one of the big-shot Germanic's wife. If you asked Heracles, the Romans were every bit as barbaric as the barbarians, maybe even more. Cruel, selfish swine; that's what the Romans were. Well, except his beautiful mistress. She seemed... different than all of the others.

_____ had bought the piece, and now, her and her little procession were heading back to the villa. Unfortunately, while Heracles was thinking he failed to notice the man in standing front of him like a brick wall.

"Watch where you're going!" a harsh and somewhat familiar voice boomed at him. Heracles glared at the man _____ had called Marcus. The man stated at him expectantly, crossing his arms. Heracles just glared.

"Apologize," Marcus said quietly, rage bubbling underneath his quiet voice.

Heracles remained silent and his glare grew defiant.

"Apologize!" Marcus repeated, clearly growing very angry.

After a moment Heracles spoke, "Why? I didn't do anything wrong." The look on his face was as emotionless as ever, but the cocky defiance was evident in his tone.

"How dare you speak to me in such a way you worm!" Marcus roared. He raised his fist and the world seemed to pause.

To everyone's complete shock, ____ stood, sat on the edge of the litter, and jumped down, all in a few seconds. Then, just as Marcus was about to bring his fist down on Heracles, she jumped between them.

"__-____?!" Marcus said, surprised. He barely stopped himself before he hit her.

She glared up at the large Roman man. "Dominus Marcus," her voice sounded cold and harsh. "I would suggest you hold your temper!"

"B-but, he did...he was..." clearly Marcus was shocked that a woman (and such a small one at that) would speak to him like that. "He has no right to speak to me in such a way!" he finally recompose himself. "He needs to be punished!"

"Maybe so," she said quietly. Then the fire came back to her eyes. "But he is my slave, not yours! He is mine to punish, mine to reward, and mine to command, mine to do with as I please! I would appreciate it if you left him and his discipline to me!" by this time she had risen to her tip toes. Her eyes were still at his neck level but something about her looked fierce, like an angry ready to pounce.

Heracles smiled slightly.


Reader's POV


You took a deep breath and let it out subtly. The initial anger was beginning to wear off, and now you were seeing the pure fury in Marcus' eyes. You began to feel frightened but you refused to let it show.

Finally, Marcus' angry glare rose from your face, went over your head, and landed on Heracles. "You'll regret this," he said in a voice barely above a whisper before turning on his heel and stomping off angrily. You made a mental note to try and stay on Marcus' good side in the future.

You turned and saw Heracles. He was smiling. You smiled back. The other slaves had lowered your litter sometime during the commotion, and you shakily sat down in the chair. "Let's go home," you said quietly.