A part of him regretted his callous behavior earlier in their relationship. He was callous, he knew, bordering on cruel if he really thought about it. But he didn't want to. That was how he approached problems he couldn't put to paper, he ignored them. He didn't know what Finne was doing in the bedroom in the earlier days of their marriage but he suspected it was pacing in relentless circles. That was what jolted him out of sleep, the back-and-forth, back-and-forth pads of feet on stone. He groaned, blinking blearily at the early morning light barely piercing through the curtains.
"Finne. What are you doing?" he said, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He wasn't expecting an answer.
Finne glanced at him before resuming his pacing. He had pulled a sleeveless under-tunic over his sleep clothes, and as he walked in his dizzying circles around the room and passed their bed, Aleci could see fresh bleeding gouges on his arm.
"Finne, stop!" Aleci exclaimed in alarm.
He jumped out of the bed, moving to grab at Finne's forearm. The reaction from Finne was instantaneous. His hand closed around Finne's arm, he felt himself being thrown backwards, his own arm twisted around his back. Finne was on top of him, snarling.
«Don't touch me!»
There was a feral cat on the villa once, foaming at the mouth, its eyes blood shot and raging. One of the guards, he hadn't remember who exactly, though it was most likely Oppius, had put it out of its misery with a spear. Finne's eyes weren't quite as terrifying, but Aleci suspected that had there been a knife in the room it would have been buried in his gut.
"Finne. Finne, it's me," he said, choking out the words. Despite the rising panic he let his arms fall to either side placatingly.
For several terrifying moments there was no response, before Finne's weight lifted from his body.
"No," snapped Finne, green eyes livid with anger, «Don't touch me.»
It sounded different from the Imrukian he spoke with Maera, something with the syllables being more elongated, but Aleci had picked up bits and pieces of it enough to know how to string together a sentence.
«I don't touch,» said Aleci, sitting up gingerly, hoping the switch to Imrukian would calm him.
If it had a noticable effect on Finne, it didn't show on his face. Finne spun away and resume his earlier pacing, giving Aleci a wide berth. Aleci kept out of his way, watching him him warily. Ordinarily, one could claim insanity one's partner and petition for a divorce. It usually worked in the man's favor, but he didn't— he paused as several thoughts dawned on to his sleep deprived mind. One was that he was rather fond of Finne, all things considered, he liked Finne's company. The other was what surely must troubled Finne, the contents of his father's letter. Finne hadn't just traveled to Alyssa with Galer. Fellow Praefects of Galer's, a Magister or two. If that was the case then the mad energy made sense. He swallowed harshly. The Magisters had always taken what they wanted. Finne hadn't— well, then his reactions made sense.
He took in a deep breath and got to his feet, determined. A glance at the window showed the sun still rising, they had time before witnesses could arrive and see him fail repeatedly. Mind made up, he reached for his own clothes, pulling them on before approaching Finne hesitantly with holding out his spare tunic to Finne. It would be impractical for Finne to wear the stola.
"Finne?" he said, loudly, «Come, please?»
Finne paused, his eyes wide and owl-like as he took in the tunic held out to him. After a tense silence, he took the tunic from Aleci's outstretched hand. Aleci was relieved to see that the bleeding looked superficial, like deep scratches done again and again. But now that he bothered to look, he was disquieted by the faded white lines on Finne's arms, too deep to have been done by his own fingers. No, one problem at a time he decided.
"Come with me?" he repeated, hoping he didn't sound too honey sweet.
"Where?" said Finne, tonelessly.
"The training grounds." said Aleci, "You can spar with me."
This seemed to garner a reaction from Finne.
"Spar?" he said, staring at Aleci in disbelief, "You?"
"What?" said Aleci, mock affronted, "I can spar."
"Can," repeated Finne, blinking.
He kept a wide berth from Aleci, silent a stone as they made their way to the training grounds. Aleci selected one of the sparing staffs and handed it to Finne. He took another for himself before closing the armory door. Finne was going through the motions when he walked into the training circle. As expected, there was a practiced grace to his movements, speaking of years of most likely continuous training. Years of training that Aleci himself had neglected, because he didn't care to.
You know why. Aleci scowled and pushed down the familiar whisper. He needed a drink after this.
"Are you ready?" said Aleci, holding his staff with both hands.
Finne was more than ready, and Aleci nearly dropped his staff at the strike that was directed his way.
He cursed, barely blocking the next one. The blows came fast and quick from Finne. None of his even came close to striking, the other man seemed to know where a blow would fall even before Aleci raised his staff to strike. Who was Finne? He barely had time to contemplate this question before, he found himself flat on his back. Finne offered him a hand, pulling him up. There was a fierce grin on Finne's face as he held Aleci's staff and his, in his other hand.
"You enjoy this?" said Aleci in disbelief, staring at his empty hand, where only a moment ago had held the staff.
Finne stared at him, "No," he said brazenly, a pleased smile on his face. He paused, then added, "Sorry."
"You're not sorry," said Aleci, rubbing at the spots where Finne's staff had hit him. They felt like fresh bruises. But he gave Finne a smile nonetheless. It was rare that one of his spontaneous plans worked out this well. Then he glanced over to the fence, met the curious gaze of one of the guards, and groaned. "What are you looking at?" he said, directing the question to the gawking Mercus.
"Are all Imrukians like you?" said Mercus to Finne, fascinated.
Finne looked amused. «Go to Imruk and see.»
Mercus surprised him with his response, in broken and heavily accented Imrukian, «I go and see.» catching Aleci's eyes, the young guard looked abashed, "He's offered to teach us some words Master Aleci. You understood me did you? I only said I would be curious to go."
Finne rolled his eyes, motioning that he would return the staff to the armory.
"Wait," said Aleci, seeing Mercus's appreciative look, "Why don't you spar with him Mercus?"
"Me?" said Mercus, sounding scandalized, "I mean, yes, but, well... it would be..." he stared at Finne, who smirked.
«Scared?»
"No!" Mercus scowled. "Are you sure?" he looked at Aleci uncertainly, "It's not a test, Master Aleci is it? I can't lose my position."
"Go ahead," said Aleci, gesturing for Finne to hand Mercus the staff.
The young guard had a more muscular built than Aleci, undoubtedly due to the training. He was a head taller than Finne, though as he approached the other man with his staff in hand there was a coltish awkwardness to his movements. It vanished when Finne struck him with the staff, replaced with a gritted-teeth determination. He landed more hits than Aleci did, though, for every blow he landed, he flinched and moved clumsily away from three of Finne's. Finne was simply faster on his feet, dancing in circles around Mercus. The guard was left panting, beads of sweat running visibly down his dark brown hair and soaking his tunic.
"I yield, I yield," he wheezed, dropping the staff and holding up both hands in surrender.
"You yield... Aleci?" said Finne, glancing at Aleci.
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Mercus shook his head, still panting, "No, no, not because of him-" he gave Aleci and apologetic glance, "Sorry Master Aleci, you're good. You're very good."
Finne grinned, triumphant. "I know," he said.
«Liar,» said Mercus, smiling, "I want another round-" he glanced at Aleci, "If you allow it, Master Aleci."
"If you wake up early enough to spar with him." said Aleci, wondering how it was that Finne seemed more at ease exchanging words Mercus, "Breakfast?" he said to Finne.
"Breakfast," Finne agreed, holding out his staff for Mercus to put away.
Aleci was rather proud of the day's decision, until he woke up the next day and felt every place where the staff had hit him. What woke him though, wasn't the soreness of underused muscle, but the sound of meowing in his ear.
"What! Out!" he yelped, scrambling away and hearing a snarl before he stared into the doleful eye of the tom.
The cat sniffed the air disdainfully then settled down on top of Finne's pillow. Aleci groaned, trying to pull his own pillow over his face.
"Aleci, come," said Finne, and Aleci glanced over to see Finne already dressed, practically vibrating with energy.
"No," said Aleci, and the cat on his right hissed, "Fine. Fine. Claim my bed too then you foul beast."
He rolled out of the bed, wincing at the sore muscles from yesterday. "Can't you spar with Mercus? That boy really wants a beating from you."
"No," said Finne, then looking vaguely contemplative added, "Come to bathhouse... later?"
Aleci stared at him, "You can't bribe me with sex." he said, half-accusingly.
"Bribe?" said Finne.
That was deliberate, Aleci narrowed his eyes at the innocent look Finne gave him. "You know," said Aleci, deciding to play along, "You give me something for me to do something with you. Or give something to you."
Finne looked amused, "I like this... bribing."
His forearm had scabbed over from the yesterday, Aleci noticed with relief. "Fine. I'll come with you," he said, pulling on his own tunic.
They had an audience. Mercus was sitting on the fence, a half apple in one hand. Oppius was there as well, looking interested. Aleci made a valiant attempt, but he mistimed a strike, giving an opening, and like yesterday, found himself flat on his back.
"You have improved since the last time I saw you fight, Master Aleci," said Oppius brightly, when Aleci conceded defeat and plopped himself down on the ground waving at Finne to duel whoever he pleased.
The old man was first, and bested Finne in their first round. Finne was a fast learner, and Oppius's weak spot, his left ankle was a target. Oppius fell to the ground with a thud.
"Hm." said the old man, dusting off himself and shaking away Finne's offer to pull him up, "You should've bested me sooner, Domina. Did you think you'll save my pride or something?"
Finne gave the man a half smile, and said nothing. He handed the staff to a waiting Mercus before walking over to Aleci.
"Breakfast?" he suggested, pointing towards the villa.
"You can train with them, you know," said Aleci, wondering if Finne understood more than he let on. That was good, he didn't need to speak so haltingly, "Don't wait for my permission."
Finne nodded, then as Aleci made to go to his study, shook his head, taking his hand and pulling him towards the bathhouse.
"You were serious?" said Aleci, clarifying, "You want this?"
The look Finne gave him then could easily be translated. When they reached the bathhouse Finne made to pour oil on his hands, and Aleci was pleasantly surprised that Finne knew how to massage as well.
The next few days passed in a blur, whatever troubled Finne seemed to have fade away as he found a new outlet for it. Mainly, winning most duels against his household guards, and all duels against Aleci. It should wound his pride, losing to one's wife would probably sour any man's mood, but it wasn't as if he was a skilled fighter anyway. It was on Galer wasn't it, if he wanted his son married to a dutiful wife then he should've married Aleci to one.
All was well until the day Galer's guests invited themselves over. Praefect Cimul Aleci recognized well enough, along with two other Praefects and a Magister. But as it was a Magister that came it meant an entire cohort to service him. Aleci sighed deeply at the sight, praying that the vineyards were not trampled and their storage could at least feed their guests. To his relief, it seemed like he only needed to host the men.
"Well," he said, turning to Finne by his side, "shall we?"
He thought Finne would be dressed in his customary married stola, but to his surprise, he'd added a veil as well, similar to the one he'd worn at their wedding ceremony. All things considered, perhaps it wasn't a bad decision. Aleci hesitated, then reached out and gave Finne's hand a squeeze.
They waited as the group approached, the Magister leading. He couldn't dress in purple, that was the color for the Caesar, but the man had purple trim which was close and expensive enough. A man of true talent then, Aleci thought through gritted teeth.
"Magister," said Aleci, offering his best bow while Finne drop into a obeisance next top him.
"I thought they were fertile," said the Magister boldly and gave Finne's body an uncomfortably long once over. "Your father was so insistent on taking this one—"
"I beg your pardon, Magister but we have only been married for so long," said Aleci and his jaw was smarting. He kept his head slightly down as he said so, a proper sort of apology, and as he looked up he caught a glimpse of the man's family ring. Magister Lerius then, Aleci thought, irritated, how on earth did this man fail upwards so spectacularly.
"Have you thought of gelding him?" said Magister Lerius as cheerfully as one discussed the weather or a horse. "I had that done to mine and that worked wonders—"
Very distantly he heard buzzing in his ear, his hands clenched and his lips twitched as he tried to bite down the words he wanted to say.
"Shall we take the conversation indoors Magister?" Praefect Cimul interrupted. To Finne he was all courtesy and half-bows, „I believe he's taken too much of the wine."
„I fail to notice the difference, 'Praefect'."
He couldn't see the look on Finne's face but Praefect Cimul gave a brittle sort of smile.
"This is Quintus and Damon," said Praefect Cimul to Aleci, who forced himself to bow accordingly.
Praefect Quintus was older than Damon, his hair greying and his faced lined. He gave Aleci a pleasant enough smile, which Aleci returned. The last Praefect though— Aleci recalled with a jolt picking up a glass bottle and stabbing and stabbing— he couldn't bring himself to smile. In any case the man didn't smile at him, instead his all too familiar greeting was directed at Finne.
«Why hide your face?»
His fellow Praefects froze, and the older Quintus was the first to react, "Praefect Damon, please. I would very much like to relax before our travels resume tomorrow."
Finne pulled him into a corner away from their guests as they walked into the courtyard, "The room?" he said, motioning towards the guest bedroom, "Where— where do we—"
"I'll show you my mother's room," said Aleci, rubbing Finne's hand. "Or you can ask one of the troupers. Ask for Lica's room." It felt odd saying his mother's name out loud.
"Domina Lica," Finne said.
"Right," Aleci agreed, and made to take his hand away.
To his surprise Finne reached out and squeezed it. "We go?"
"Together," Aleci agreed.
Ever since he was little Aleci was acutely aware that Galer ran his household differently from other men. They had the coffers for slaves and servants but Galer had none of them. Aleci and his sister were expected to pick up after themselves. It shouldn't came as a shock to Aleci that there were men with people whose only task was to feed them, but it always did. He sighed deeply, and reached for the wine. Hadn't he planned to drink his way through hosting anyway?
He held out a cup to Finne who politely shook his head. How he managed to eat with that veil on Aleci had no idea. The only two who looked like they were enjoying themselves were Praefect Damon and Magister Lerius. Praefect Cimul was poking at his bread before taking a deep sigh and making polite talk with Finne.
«Should I send your husband my congratulations soon?»
«I'm not certain.»
«Oh, I suppose one doesn't speak of this until one's very certain. I thought you would be, as Maera hasn't shown herself.»
«I beg your pardon?»
«Did you ask her to go buy you fruits and things? They don't sell them here, my wife asked her to do the same when she had such desires,» here he laughed, «though it was more to get her out of our braids than anything.»
«The 'pomegranates' are nice.»
«Have you thought of a name? No,» he shook his head when Finne opened his mouth, «not an 'Alyssian' name, I thought you Imrukian had different names. But well, I don't know what 'Aleci' would be. Al something? Or do you take the last two letters?»
«I have yet to decide.»
«Take your time,» Praefect Cimul was grinning now.
They were talking about him, that was easy enough to know. Aleci took another drink and hoped that Finne had decent things to say. He certainly wasn't as bad as Magister Lerius who had taken his slaves to serve him. No matter how fast they carried the platter, it wasn't enough. He delighted in being cruelly contrary, Magister Lerius, Aleci mused, one of these days it would get him killed. Though if he had to decide between the Magister and the Praefect who was worst, it must be Praefect Damon.
"You know, I would've managed to sample the tributes."
Aleci eyed his empty cup and filled it.
"— one of them stabbed me!" Praefect Damon flicked his sleeve up to reveal a deep gash, the scar ugly and an angry red on his arm, "By this bitch before your father stepped in."
Praefect Damon's voice was too loud, Aleci thought wryly, and what a shame that whoever it was didn't aim for— he blinked in dawning comprehension, and glanced over at Finne, tipping his glass. Finne turned his face away and Aleci grinned, pleased that he was right. His joy was temporary because it was the Magister sat down heavily next to him, and he too had things to say.
"You should consider it, what I said earlier."
"I don't know what you mean, Magister," Aleci said brightly, feigning ignorance.
He was quite good in doing so, even as Magister Lerius's face went redder and redder from both wine and frustration. There were games he could play with these sorts, but this was one he refused to join in. Finne was not an animal. It itched at his skin, nonetheless, listening with half an ear at Magister Lerius and Praefect Damon and their conquests. The hand pouring his cup was shaking, he realized, as if from a very far away place.
"Aleci," Finne half-shook his head, and he took the amphora from Aleci to pour the wine.
It must be a sign for him to stop if someone was pouring the wine for him. He waved Finne's hand away, "I've had enough. Thank you."
To his great relief it wasn't long before the Magister staggered off with his own entourage. The Praefects he showed to the guest rooms before stopping in the courtyard, staring at the food that hadn't yet been cleared. Had Finne properly eaten? He wasn't certain, so he shrugged and decided it wouldn't hurt to provide Finne with the option to. There were some sweet meats, fruit and cheese untouched, the fruit more so. A pomegranate, he thought, pleased and plopped the lot into a platter before carrying it to his mother's room. He paused at the door, knocking before Finne came to open it. The stola and veil had been taken off, and Finne was carrying the black cat in one arm, stroking it with his other hand. The poetry book laid open on the bed.
"I... eat?"
"Did you not?"
Finne stared at him, "No."
"Why not?" Aleci began but stopped himself, sighing deeply, "Come eat."
His mother had a table and chairs for when she was teaching his sister her embroidery and letters. Her things had long been cleared so it was safe to settle the platter on the wooden surface. Aleci motioned for Finne to sit, and collapsed down upon the nearby chair himself, dubbing at his temples. The cat, staring at the veritable feast before it, meowed pitifully.
"You'll make it fat and lazy," Aleci pointed out when he saw Finne reach for the meat and cheese, "What were you reading?"
"A poem," said Finne, his lips twitching when the cat licked his fingers.
"Yes," said Aleci, rolling his eyes. An extortionist, the tom was, "A poem. Which poem?"
"Give me a thousand kisses," said Finne, and proceeded to recite the entire poem that Aleci was sure he only read, at most, three times to him.
Even in his wine addled mind he had to admit it was an impressive feat, "You remembered?" said Aleci.
"Yes?" said Finne, looking up from where he was popping several pomegranate seeds into his mouth.
"Hm," said Aleci, and he slowed down his words just in case, "Would you like me to give you a thousand kisses?"
Finne paused, licking his red-stained lips. He placed the fruit down on the plate with a soft clatter before walking over and sitting on Aleci's lap. His hands were very warm when he placed them both on both sides of Aleci's face and when Finne pressed a kiss to Aleci's lips he tasted pomegranates.
"Yes."