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Legion

Date: 9/15/2015, Categories: Historical, Author: Lupus, Rating: , Source: LushStories

her skin erupted in tingles and goose bumps. She washed herself all over, rubbing her skin for warmth before huddling up close to the feeble fire, feeling truly invigorated. *** Soldiers saluted and approached as Vespasian entered the camp, hailing their Legate. He ignored them all, staring ahead and feigning ignorance as he cantered towards his tent. ‘I don’t care what these people want. I don’t care, today. Let them burn that place to the ground and have their fun. I’m going to my tent for the night and that’s it!’ The Legate slid from his horse the second it reached his tent, his boots slamming into the mud on impact. Vespasian threw the reins to the approaching optio and stormed into his tent without a word or a gesture, his armour’s gentle chinking the only sound bar his hurried steps. A quick couple of yanks at the ties loosened his armour enough for him to cast it down next to his bed - just in time to collapse onto its soft comfort. Lying across the silk sheets, he closed his eyes and sighed, glad to be able to lie down and relax at last. His heavy eyes were unstoppably drawn shut and he lost himself to the world for a few delightful moments. Something rustled nearby and, trained to react in an instant, Vespasian’s eyes flew open. Diving to his feet, he whipped about on the spot, alert and defensive. Only a few feet away stood an ashen Briton girl with a fiery mane of wild hair. Her green orbs were held wide open as she backed slowly away from the threatening ... Roman, clutching the wet, heavy shirt she wore, tightly. “Oh fuck, it’s you.” Vespasian breathed out and stood up straight, intent on hiding his heavy inhalations. “Thank fuck for that, I thought you were… I completely forgot about you.” The two stood staring at each other for a moment. Her eyes refused to leave his for a second. “You don’t speak my language, I’m assuming.” Still she did not respond, but took another careful step backwards. “Why are you backing away, girl?” Vespasian stepped forward to follow her, alarming the poor girl further. She started to quickly retreat into the corner of the tent. “What’s wrong? I’m not going to hurt you. I saved you, remember? It’s my men who wanted to hurt you. I SAVED YOU!” He roared out the last three words, taking two great lurching steps towards her. His anger and frustration boiling over, he turned and swiped a bundle of official scrolls off the table, scattering them across the room. The pallid local let out a whimper and dropped to the floor, hugging her knees in a tiny, defensive ball. Vespasian watched her and felt the bile rising in his throat once more. He turned away and shuffled towards his washing bowl. Staring at his gaunt expression in the dim reflection cast from the water, he sighed to himself. “Sure, why not? Fear me. I suppose you have every right to.” With that, he dunked his face into the shallow water and surfaced with a deep, shuddering breath. *** She watched him for a long time, but he didn’t move again. He had ...