OOM: Home!!!
Mar. 15th, 2012 12:31 amAntinoos bursts from the door of the strange tavern into the silent, dusty, sweltering Alexandria street, kicks the door shut, and just doesn't stop running until he reaches the palace that once was Cleopatra’s. He slows down, reining in his impatience, when he walks past the Praetorian guards at the gate. They don’t take any special notice of him; so it’s probably true about no time having passed. He slows down more, taking a deep breath as he strides calmly up the stairs. Antinoos running for purely personal reasons has caused all sorts of rumours in the past, and with the fraught situation of the morning, he's just not going to do it, if he can at all help himself.
Egyptians are milling and murmuring in the antechamber, but Antinoos walks through them, feeling every eye in the room on his back as he passes, calm and upright.
He opens the door of the emperor's office and slips in. Inside the usual courtiers are standing, their thin fine linen robes blocking his view of the emperor until he moves past them. Hadrian is there poring over a tablet and waving a stylus as he discusses the figures with one of the officials.
“But if you take more men, that means more horses,” Hadrian points out, “which means more pack beasts to carry water and fodder. Eventually there will be too many to pack and unpack in the course of the day. Much better to have small groups of riders who can use the existing water supplies without depleting them too much.” He glances up as though looking for disagreement, catches Antinoos eye and smiles.
Nothing -- there is nothing wrong, just as the people in that strange tavern said! Antinoos looks around, almost bewildered by the calm routine, the businesslike arguing, the total lack of alarm. He is conscious of the bruise on his cheek (not very livid, but still there), but even that doesn’t seem to elicit a comment. He smiles back at Hadrian, a bit weakly as he’s feeling so unsettled, and goes to sit in a corner, until the emperor can spare him some time and attention.
It doesn’t take too long. Before long, Hadrian sends most of the courtiers about their business, just retaining the boy who operates the fan and a page with a tray of chilled wine.
“I’m glad that’s over,” Hadrian says as he approaches. “You’d think none of them had ever travelled in a desert before. It’s not as though I’m asking any of them to …” His voice breaks off and one large hand darts out to grip Antinoos chin turning his head to catch what little light there is in the dimness of the room.
“A bruise,” the Emperor of Rome comments. “I trust that it was an accident?”
“Yes, I found myself a paleastra for some sparring,” Antinoos says, having thought of the subterfuge while he was waiting. He tilts his head into Hadrian’s touch. “They didn’t know who I was, and I just found somebody to train with. He’s no more to blame than the straps of leather you wrap around your fists for fighting. You know what it’s like. No sports without bruises.” He looks up at Hadrian and smiles.
He’s so happy to be back. Nothing went wrong! And he can’t say a single word about it.
Hadrian nods approvingly. “That’s right. But perhaps you could have one of the surgeons look at it. How are your teeth?”
“None of them are loose,” Antinoos says. That would be dreadful. “We didn’t go for mouths or eyes, just the usual sparring.”
He stands, smiling at his lover. He hasn’t been this intensely glad to see him for a long while. Perhaps he’d got too used to how good his life is. Hadrian isn’t more than commonly handsome, or in any way more spectacular than the rest of humanity; but for Antinoos in this moment, he’s the loveliest thing he ever saw. Lying in a strange prison cell and wondering if he’d ever see him again had made him miss the man terribly, and reminded him of how much he really cares about him.
Hadrian’s smile, often so grim, is tender as he returns the look and when he gestures for the wine and it arrives he serves Antinoos with his own hands.
Antinoos takes the goblet, and sips. “Thanks,“ he says. “It was really hot out there. Egypt is strange. I mean, what can you think of a place where ‘endangering a kitten’ is a valid charge people will accuse you of?”
“You endangered a kitten?” Hadrian asks. “Or is that just a rhetorical comment? If it is then I have to answer that any country that supplies Rome with so much wheat is allowed a few odd little foibles.”
“No, it was something that came up when I was talking to the young men in that palaestra,” Antinoos smoothly lies. He hadn’t endangered that silly kitten, anyway -- it had just been sitting there, confused and hissing, as they fought. “One of them had been accused of it. Or one of his friends, perhaps.”
Hadrian grunted. “I’ll do what I can for them,” he promised, “but it’s a serious offence. Not as bad as it used to be but still - the fools.”
“I don’t think there were actual criminal charges,” Antinoos says. “But thanks.”
Hadrian is always so willing to help when he takes interest in anything. So, Antinoos tries not to exploit it, in order not to get exploited, in turn.
“Well no matter then,” Hadrian says. He sips his wine then smiles. “Shall we swim this afternoon?”
“Oh yes please!” Antinoos says. He never did get to the palaestra he had actually meant to visit on his venture out into common Alexandria, after all. He looks up at Hadrian’s face again, and then lets go of all silly restraint, puts down his wine, throws his arms around his lover, and leans his head against Hadrian’s chest. It is so good to actually feel him in his arms again! And to feel the warmth of the heavy arms closing around his shoulders, the gentle ruffle of a hand across his hair.
“Just the two of us?” Hadrian suggests. “And then, my very dear, I will need to work again. So don’t wait up.”
“Yes,” Antinoos murmurs against his lover’s chest. “Oh yes. Yes, of course!”
[[OOC: Co-written with![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
essayel, who may or may not provide a Hadrian to app, but has very kindly agreed to write him in OOMs via Gdocs -- thanks ever so much!!]]
Egyptians are milling and murmuring in the antechamber, but Antinoos walks through them, feeling every eye in the room on his back as he passes, calm and upright.
He opens the door of the emperor's office and slips in. Inside the usual courtiers are standing, their thin fine linen robes blocking his view of the emperor until he moves past them. Hadrian is there poring over a tablet and waving a stylus as he discusses the figures with one of the officials.
“But if you take more men, that means more horses,” Hadrian points out, “which means more pack beasts to carry water and fodder. Eventually there will be too many to pack and unpack in the course of the day. Much better to have small groups of riders who can use the existing water supplies without depleting them too much.” He glances up as though looking for disagreement, catches Antinoos eye and smiles.
Nothing -- there is nothing wrong, just as the people in that strange tavern said! Antinoos looks around, almost bewildered by the calm routine, the businesslike arguing, the total lack of alarm. He is conscious of the bruise on his cheek (not very livid, but still there), but even that doesn’t seem to elicit a comment. He smiles back at Hadrian, a bit weakly as he’s feeling so unsettled, and goes to sit in a corner, until the emperor can spare him some time and attention.
It doesn’t take too long. Before long, Hadrian sends most of the courtiers about their business, just retaining the boy who operates the fan and a page with a tray of chilled wine.
“I’m glad that’s over,” Hadrian says as he approaches. “You’d think none of them had ever travelled in a desert before. It’s not as though I’m asking any of them to …” His voice breaks off and one large hand darts out to grip Antinoos chin turning his head to catch what little light there is in the dimness of the room.
“A bruise,” the Emperor of Rome comments. “I trust that it was an accident?”
“Yes, I found myself a paleastra for some sparring,” Antinoos says, having thought of the subterfuge while he was waiting. He tilts his head into Hadrian’s touch. “They didn’t know who I was, and I just found somebody to train with. He’s no more to blame than the straps of leather you wrap around your fists for fighting. You know what it’s like. No sports without bruises.” He looks up at Hadrian and smiles.
He’s so happy to be back. Nothing went wrong! And he can’t say a single word about it.
Hadrian nods approvingly. “That’s right. But perhaps you could have one of the surgeons look at it. How are your teeth?”
“None of them are loose,” Antinoos says. That would be dreadful. “We didn’t go for mouths or eyes, just the usual sparring.”
He stands, smiling at his lover. He hasn’t been this intensely glad to see him for a long while. Perhaps he’d got too used to how good his life is. Hadrian isn’t more than commonly handsome, or in any way more spectacular than the rest of humanity; but for Antinoos in this moment, he’s the loveliest thing he ever saw. Lying in a strange prison cell and wondering if he’d ever see him again had made him miss the man terribly, and reminded him of how much he really cares about him.
Hadrian’s smile, often so grim, is tender as he returns the look and when he gestures for the wine and it arrives he serves Antinoos with his own hands.
Antinoos takes the goblet, and sips. “Thanks,“ he says. “It was really hot out there. Egypt is strange. I mean, what can you think of a place where ‘endangering a kitten’ is a valid charge people will accuse you of?”
“You endangered a kitten?” Hadrian asks. “Or is that just a rhetorical comment? If it is then I have to answer that any country that supplies Rome with so much wheat is allowed a few odd little foibles.”
“No, it was something that came up when I was talking to the young men in that palaestra,” Antinoos smoothly lies. He hadn’t endangered that silly kitten, anyway -- it had just been sitting there, confused and hissing, as they fought. “One of them had been accused of it. Or one of his friends, perhaps.”
Hadrian grunted. “I’ll do what I can for them,” he promised, “but it’s a serious offence. Not as bad as it used to be but still - the fools.”
“I don’t think there were actual criminal charges,” Antinoos says. “But thanks.”
Hadrian is always so willing to help when he takes interest in anything. So, Antinoos tries not to exploit it, in order not to get exploited, in turn.
“Well no matter then,” Hadrian says. He sips his wine then smiles. “Shall we swim this afternoon?”
“Oh yes please!” Antinoos says. He never did get to the palaestra he had actually meant to visit on his venture out into common Alexandria, after all. He looks up at Hadrian’s face again, and then lets go of all silly restraint, puts down his wine, throws his arms around his lover, and leans his head against Hadrian’s chest. It is so good to actually feel him in his arms again! And to feel the warmth of the heavy arms closing around his shoulders, the gentle ruffle of a hand across his hair.
“Just the two of us?” Hadrian suggests. “And then, my very dear, I will need to work again. So don’t wait up.”
“Yes,” Antinoos murmurs against his lover’s chest. “Oh yes. Yes, of course!”
[[OOC: Co-written with
essayel, who may or may not provide a Hadrian to app, but has very kindly agreed to write him in OOMs via Gdocs -- thanks ever so much!!]]
