Foggy Bottom Way [m] el mar

the world grew cold; the world shrunk to germanicus and the children with him now. needful babes no longer, fierce in their own right.

so much of their lives he had missed, and silvertongue now maneuvered him into a place he had already been, twice. the retelling fetched a high price in listening.

so much of their lives he had lost that germanicus scarcely knew aquillius or cornelius, or valiria. and alivia would most assuredly not come home, so —

he remained damned by her demanding gesture, and stood in a growing silence even as his son softly questioned and his daughter prepared her attack, and in these aspects he saw himself!

for a swift and dizzying moment he considered a dour lie, one designed to grant him more time with the young wolves, more time to prove himself as their father before they came to know his greatest sin.

could he fathom that pain and shock in their eyes? he found its very concept sundered him to his core.

and yet when the silence at last ended, it was his voice which crept truthfully into the space between, for he could not lie. if he must lose his children to this pestilent memory, then germanicus would approach this in full truth.

"i once lived in the palace of akashingo," the eagle began and he did not think he had ever felt so subdued. "i hired a mercenary to spy. such men demand payment after their tour of work, and his was — his was a slave girl possessed by the queen, for he loved her and wished her contract to be broken with the palace."

a haggardness stood out now on countenance that could still be called handsome with the right assessment. he felt aged. his body aches, his limbs threatened to tremble, his gut roiled.

and still he went on evenly.

"the palace would not part with her unless i paid what she was worth. and so i found another girl outside in the country. i —" and now the tactician stumbled, voice hoarsening.

he did not dare look toward cornelius or valiria now. the roman and the riverwolf stared steadily at each other, silvertongue's breath coming in harsh intakes.

"i lied to her by omitting what she would endure, and i ensured she did not understand before i left her there in the place of the woman my mercenary loved."

and still, germanicus did not know what she had endured, only that the pain which lit every facet of her face was old and exquisite.

and the anguish which suffused his was genuine and expansive.

not enough.

he felt as though the sky were cracking above him.