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troutfur · 6 months

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Friendly rivalry between alderpaw and needlepaw in an au where clans are friendly and collaborative with eachother.

I'm writing this preamble before writing the ficlet so I don't know how much of this is gonna reflect on it, but I do want it to be known that my immediate thought seeing this prompt was not to focus on the Needlepaw and Alderpaw of it all but rather on the aspect of the Clans being friendlier and more collaborative.

See, half because a while back my friend group got really into thinking about shipping dynamics based on Ursula K. Le-Guin short stories and half because that's what I was reading about for my class on anthropological theory I have thought about the idea of Clans as a type of moiety that evolved out of a gradual cooling of the political tensions at the creation of the Clans.

I usually group the four forest clans into two sets of two based on the alliances towards the end of TPB, LionClan with WindClan and ThunderClan and TigerClan with ShadowClan and RiverClan. I'll have to brainstorm a name for what the two larger Clans with ShadowClan and ThunderClan on one side and WindClan and RiverClan on the other as their halves would be.

(Want to see me overcomplicate your AU premise? Check my guidelines and give me your prompt! You may just be the one chosen next.)

“Alderpaw, come on!” Molewhisker stopped to encourage his panting apprentice. His trudging step and panting tongue betrayed right away how over-exerted he was from the exercise. Or it would if he didn’t look positively ragged, with fur sticking out everywhere and leaves and even bits of grass caught up all across his pelt.

His siter had convinced her own mentor and Molewhisker to make the trek to ShadowClan camp into a training exercise, though perhaps that’s too strong a word for how easily Cherryfall jumped on the idea. Alderpaw would be lying if he were to say he didn’t resent that about his sister just a little bit for how she had made a trip he was already dreading all the worse.

He understood, of course, the need to do so. It was as vital for a warrior of any Clan to get to know their sister Clan as it was to get to know their own territory and their own prey. But nothing he’d heard about their siblings from the other forest had been the least bit encouraging.

After every single gathering the senior warriors would return complaining about Consul Rowanclaw’s inability to keep the peace among his crowd, especially after the kits from their unusually fecund year had begun into apprenticeship. Most of ThunderClan held no particular love of his father but considering the alternative they dreaded the coming year when Consul Bramblestar would have to step back as Brambleclaw, letting Rowanstar enact his year of primary leadership.

When Alderpaw finally came to rest, almost collapsing without a care for the fact the floor was strewn with endless pine needes instead of the more familiar leaf litter, his peace was short-lived for he was soon faced with an unfamiliar silver-gray she-cat making faces at him. “This is a ThunderClan cat?” she said with an eyeroll as she turned around and slapped him across the face with her tail. “And I thought this was going to be a challenge.”

“The real challenge is going to be having to live with them,” another one jeered.

“They’re even worse at the gathering,” a third one of the apprentices piped up. “All goody two-paws trying oh so hard to impress their mentors. It’s sickening really.”

As they each took turns hurling insult after insult, Alderpaw could hear his sister swishing her tail across the pine needle cover. He knew that kind of look on her face, eager to jump to her own defense, and by extension that of her kin and Clan. But she also looked to her mentor who had not yet done anything about the insolent apprentices in spite of the authority conferred by her rank even over the youth of another Clan.

With a subtle eye signal from his sister and a tap of her foot, Molewhisker sprung into action, bringing the apprentice currently taking his turn at a jab under his grasp.

“Are we done with this distraction now?” The other apprentices tensed seeing the warrior currently grasping their friend but as Cherryfall flashed her claws they backed down.

Molewhisker released his grasp on the apprentice and soon enough Cherryfall was instructing everyone on the training exercise they would be performing together. “Don’t you think just because you have them to intimidate them that I’m going to go easy on you,” the silver-gray molly said to Alderpaw.

Just his luck that he had been paired with her of all possible cats...

#aside but I feel this fandom is sleeping on using Roman terminology for their AUs/rewrites #I have pioneered it with augur AUs use of augur and patrician #but we need more centurions and imperators and consuls and senators and all the rest #maybe even an augustus or a princeps #warrior cats #wc #warrior cats au #needletail #alderheart #once again a prompt that goes completely against the spirit of what was intended #sorry y'all #gonna update my log tomorrow for now I sleep

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iriswave · 28 days

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Studying art history ✨aesthetic ✨

Yes, the aesthetic makes the studying go by easier lol

#augustus the imperator #ancient rome #ara pacis augustae #art history #studying #aesthetic study #notes by quill and ink

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awoosmusehorde · 10 months

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✭ for Augustus?

FOR EVERY PERSON THAT SENDS ME ✭ I WILL GIVE YOU A RANDOM HEADCANON ABOUT MY MUSE.

Although Augustus looks cold and uncaring due to her rather stoic and well-dressed appearance, as well as her reputation as a rather ruthless politician, Augustus has experienced the terrors of war firsthand as a legionnaire, and as such, doesn't enjoy unnecessary bloodshed, unlike the glory-seeking politicians who'd come before her, and many of the Emperors and Imperators who'd come after.

Augustus prefers to win her opponents over with words and deed first and foremost, as a peaceful unity is what she ultimately desired for Rome, only resorting to warfare if someone proved deaf to her words or was otherwise too much of a risk to attempt diplomacy with.

As a result, if she has any regrets about her reign, it's that she left a European superpower in the hands of those far less inclined to play nice with its strength.

#sailingtheimaginarysea #checking the saint graph || about the muse #primus imperator || augustus

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worldhistoryfacts · 7 months

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How did Charlemagne present himself to his subjects?

For much of his reign, he didn’t even put his face on coins. I find the way the mints wrote his Latinized name, Carolus, on them, delightfully chaotic:

But, late in his reign, Charlemagne did start to put his image on money. He styled himself as an old-time Roman Emperor (albeit with a little mustache). On this coin, he sports a wreath around his head and classical-era Roman clothing. Around his head is written “Karolus Imp Aug” — Charles, Imperator (Emperor) and Augustus:

See more here:

{WHF} {Ko-Fi} {Medium}

#history #medieval #ancient #coin #france

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jacevelaryonswife · 1 year

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Kneel to the Empire or die with the Republic

A woman cannot be left alone to her own fate. After the fall of what you used to know, your only option was to kneel to him.

pairing: Young!Gaius Julius (Augustus Imperator) x Fem!reader

warnings and a note: angst, grief. This story is based on Domina (tv show), I don't have so much knowledge about the historical facts that involve Augustus, so, for those who have more baggage I'm sorry if something sounds wrong from what happened, please be kind, or just don’t read. English is not my first language. 3,8k

In addition to grief, other factors tightened your chest after your father's death. A good man, a faithful supporter of the Roman Republic and power of the Senate, a patrician descended from an important aristocratic lineage, and the most aggravating: one of those responsible for orchestrating the assassination of Gaius Iulius Caesar.

When the military forces of Gaius Julius, born Gaius Octavius, great-nephew of Julius Caesar, began to act in Rome, you knew you had few certainties and much to fear. Perhaps you were executed with your family, dying in an honorable way and with your head held high against a dictator (in the words of your older brother), or just having your traitorous blood eliminated by the defended cause of the heir of the most important man in Rome. They said he was different, a restorer of the Republic, a supporter of power in the hands of the people and the Senate, a middle ground between Caesar and the most avid Republicans. In those days, nothing was clearer to you than your death, however, Gaius Julius' stroke of mercy in sparing women and children from those considered enemies was at the same time a breath of relief and a punch in the lung.

Relief to the fact that you would have a chance to live, since the fear occurred when your brothers did not have the same luck when they were sentenced to death.

"What are we going to do?" You asked scared.

The two looked at each other for a considerable time, with Nero lowering his head before answering: "you will stay here and we are going to fight.”

“What? I can't stay here! There must be somewhere where his men don't find us."

"And how would you live? Running away forever? It's not the fate our father wanted for you." Claudius said.

"That's exactly what he would do instead of kneeling to a dictator, what do you expect me to do?"

“We are trying to protect you! There is no gentle future beyond these walls and I’m sure that Julius' men will still be less kind if they capture you," Nero said, exalting himself before holding your hands: "we cannot risk your life beyond ours, our father is not here, our allies are almost all dead, there is no hope for the three of us, but there may be for you."

The fall of tears marked your face until they flowed into the union of your hands. “I don't want to be alone,” you whined.

"You won’t”

It wasn't known at the time, but that was the last time you were with your brothers. The soldiers of Gaius Julius broke into your house the same night, looking closely for any fresh trail of male presence. The soldiers responsible for your safety were murdered without any chance of defense, with the exception of those who submitted quickly, fearful for their lives. You didn't judge them, how could you, after all?

When a man pressed you incisively on the whereabouts of your blood, shaking your shoulders rudely, an authoritarian voice interrupted him with a short message:

"Not her."

With wide eyes and irregular breathing, you were released immediately. The violence on the inside was mirrored on the outside, being the clearest reminder of those destined to die with the Republic. Your inert body remained in the sights of the man who guaranteed your release, the same facing you a few seconds after his order.

“My men will do your protection tonight,” he said.

The confusion in your frightened face was clear on the tip of your tongue when you asked a simple question:

"Why?" That didn't happen to other women.

"You'll know at the right time."

That's all the man said.

You remained static for long minutes after the departure of those who vandalized your home, with your father's servants — ordered by them — to remove the corpses from the house and sanitize the rooms to their original. Impossible. Doesn’t matter if the blood is removed, the death will be marked forever in each piece of furniture and corridor. One of the soldiers responsible for "your protection" approached with fear and touched your arm with delicacy, hitherto unknown to you, to get you out of the trance.

“We will assume from here, go back to rest,” he said.

"What's going to happen?" Your question was weak, almost like a meow.

"The house will be cleaned and the perimeter protected."

"From who? Why do you want to protect me?"

He remained silent for a few minutes before answering: "I'm not allowed to say."

Permission? What was going on? What was being planned for you? And by whom? Gaius Julius himself or one of his trusted men? Would you be held hostage? Would you marry any of them? Would it be sold as a slave or prostitute?

The rest of the night was spent in torment, with you pushing the internal lock of your door hard and putting on a clot to try to hide some jewels and coins with you in case you needed it and managed to escape. Sleeping was not an option, but a part of you wished that sleep would erase the horrors experienced and the departure of his brothers, so nervousness and fear partially succumbed to sleep. You allowed yourself to stay in the room a little longer that morning, ashamed of facing your servants and guards (no longer yours, but of the men of Gaius), only to receive a knock on the door of the same man you spoke to for the last time.

“I would like to sleep a little more,” you said through the door, afraid enough to open it.

His breathing was perfectly audible, followed by a moment of silence. "You will have some time, but you will need to leave soon to feed yourself and receive the lady Octavia's visit."

Octavia? Octavia Minor? Brother of Gaius Julius Caesar Octavianus? What the fuck was going on?

If there was any pretension of tiredness in you it was in a distant past, your mind had just been set on fire with what was going to happen, with what that woman might want with you. She was no stranger, visually speaking, since the glimpse of her red hair and elegant posture were seen by you at the wedding of Livia Drusila and Tiberius Claudius Nero. She, Scribonia, Marcus Vipsanius Agrippa and him, the reason for everything that is happening, with his hair and eyes dark as the night, with cheap charm and indecent actions.

You didn’t forget how you caught him having inadequate relations with Cicero's wife during the celebration, how he didn’t seem intimidated or embarrassed by his wide eyes, or how he went to you discreetly after your escape, so calm and carefree that it seemed unreal.

It's too unreal to have him by your side. Too unreal that he approached the daughter of one of the men responsible for the death of his great-uncle.

“I'm sorry you saw that, I should have chosen a place with a door,” he said when he settled comfortably standing next to him.

Your breath froze when you heard such a lack of respect, was he making fun of you?

"Don't worry, the time will come when you will do that for your husband," he provoked again, not receiving silence in response.

"Have you finished yet?" Your question was irritated, although low, without looking him in the eye.

"Yes, I did."

You didn't notice his pertinent choice of words, keeping yourself in the same place while waiting for him to leave.

“A beautiful thing like you deserve a better husband than Livia's,”

And so, he left your side.

Everything that preceded your departure from the room to the bath and to the food resulted in a constant tension in every room of your house. You felt eyes accompanied by you at all times, both from the soldiers of Gaius and from your father's slaves. It seemed that another series of murders would happen and was only prevented, for the time being, by the visit of the dictator's sister, which happened in the early afternoon.

A comforting smile directed to you was present before and after the hug given. "I'm sorry for what happened yesterday, the war usually gets the best of us."

That couldn't be said to her, you thought.

“Thank you.”

One of the guards guided the way to his father's conversation room, where there was some fruit and wine waiting. Quick flashes of happy memories made you walk slower before sitting next to her, it seemed like an eternity from full happiness, and maybe you would never fully recover it.

“Your house is quite beautiful,” Octavia began, looking around, “I always imagined it was, but it's different when being inside.”

“Has had better days,” you said apathetic, looking down.

Holding your hands, she held your chin to face her. “Again, I'm sorry for what happened. It has been a difficult period for all of us, on both sides, and I imagine that being alone in a world of men is more aggravating. That's why I'm here." Your silence made her continue, although she did not mention of stopping. "I believe you follow your father's ideas, perhaps not because you understand what a republic means, but because you accept what your blood believed-"

"I know what the republic means, just as I know what your brother is doing, but I don't think he came here to ask for my opinion," you interrupted her.

“Not an opinion, but a decision,” she rectified.

“And what decision is that?"

She looked down, displaying a strange smile as she took a deep breath. Her response took a while, as Octavia calmly took a bunch of grape in her hands and picked up a berry before resuming the subject.

"Your father's decision to delay choosing a suitor for you was quite risky for your reputation, rumors could have been made about your purity instead. I like to think he was kind, to the same extent as a fool. But maybe, all this time serves a greater purpose,” she took another break, waiting for you to guess, but everything seemed too absurd to unravel.

"What purpose?"

"A woman cannot be alone in the world, especially one with your birth. When the news that your brothers are gone is spread, men of all regions and ages have prowled your carcass and will force a marriage to get your dowry. Maybe some of your uncles or cousins, or any of them. I come here today to offer a better proposal than any of them: Gaius."

The self-control over your expressions was not well executed, since your eyes frowned and your mouth opened. No, it couldn't be. It was a fucking joke. How... how dare she?

"What?" You asked out loud. “Gaius? Your brother Gaius?"

"Yes, he in person." Octavia answered.

“Why? Why do you want me to marry him? Why me?"

“Although many claim that Gaius intends to end the Senate and Republic, this has already proved to be a fallacy. In his trajectory, he showed that he did not conquer power alone. In fact, the Senate is on its way to deliver this power to him, because it recognizes his virtues. He is a merciful man, who wishes to restore the Republics to their glory days.”

“Merciful?” You asked. “Where is the pity in sentencing my brothers to death? How nice would it be to marry the heir of the man my father helped kill? How good would it be to marry the man who is the reason why all this is happening?” Your voice came out exalted again.

Octavia, in turn, restricted herself to looking down. “All the men who remain in Rome will be supporters of Gaius, maybe yes, some dissatisfied rebel can remain, but in the end, their opinion will be worth nothing, so any husband they arrange for you will be loyal to my brother, it’s no less worse.”

“Gaius decreed the death of my brothers, that’s bad enough,” you answered.

“But what will be worse for you: to be unhappy with a bad stranger or to be the wife of a young sovereign leader? My brother was not very favorable to your family, but he would not do the atrocities that could happen to you being alone and vulnerable at this time.”

No answer was formulated by you, maybe a punch in the stomach would be preferable when facing your reality.

“Gaius himself suggested this idea,” she added.

Before or after declaring your brothers as enemies? How could he think of something like that? The memory of your family and your dignity was insulting! You would become what you wouldn’t like to say and that your father would vehemently deny.

“It’s a lot to assimilate, I know, so you have until the rest of the day to think about, tomorrow one of the soldiers will take your answer in writing,” Octavia said.

“No,” you said. “I’ll come to you. Papers can be tampered with, not my word. But I ask you to order your brother’s men not to touch any woman in this house during my absence.”

“I’ll be waiting.”

It was a deal. A marriage proposal by Gaius Julius Caesar. Not a request, an agreement, that’s what it was, an arrangement to improve his image. That was your function, to improve the lives of men, and unfortunately, even if you don’t choose it, there is no way to get out of this situation unscathed, because Octavia didn’t lie when she referred to the fate that awaited you. But that was worse, he was to blame for the chaos and violence that Rome witnessed, the reason why your home was destroyed. You were truly scared between choosing such options. They were all bad in many ways, but Gaius’s was disrespectful and humiliating. And yet you were still considering it. Was surviving so important?

Or was it that you were too cowardly to face your destiny. Between running away and getting married, you preferred death, but you were too cowardly to cut your throat. Maybe one of Gaius’ men could do this after you rejected the proposal, or Octavia herself could meet someone who messed with poisons. By the Gods, you were desperate.

“I don’t know what to do,” you told a personal servant while bathing.

You still didn’t know what to do when you went to sleep, when you woke up the next day, when you ate nothing more than a few grape berries, when you were taken to where Octavia was and when you faced her. You believed that years could pass and you would not yet have a concrete answer to that situation, but even so, the known evil (Gaius) seemed less worse than what could happen if you rejected it.

Even though it is a simple word, it has never been so difficult to make a statement before.

“Yes.”

You accepted him as yours.

Gaius’ sister’s smile was warm, wrapping your body in a hug while saying that from now on you would be sisters. Your dresses and goods would be sent to your new home, and a few maids could be taken too — at your insistence.

“We have our trusted servants, no need to worry,” Octavia said.

And then it became clear that the evaluation of his company was not only for capacity, but for loyalty and security.

“Gaius will be back soon, I’m sure he will be pleased with your presence here,” she said next. “You couldn’t have chosen better.”

Choices. No, you didn’t want to keep torturing yourself by thinking about the other options.

However, a curious fact was noticed by you in the days that followed in Gaius’ house, under the company of Octavia and other ladies: they would die to be in your position. Or rather, they would kill to be the wife of the next leader of Rome. It was one of the certainties you came to believe, Gaius Julius would not lose the war and those women would do anything to be in youe place. The feeling of danger that filled you on the other days was terrifying, restless and too tense to remain surrounded by other people. Turning to Octavia about the possibility of being poisoned, she eased your fears by saying that everything that arrived on your plate was tasted by others noticed. It wasn’t so comforting when you realized that people could die for you. No, that was insanity. Everything related to what you were living was insanity.

Long days and long nights were bathed in fear in your new home, but nothing compared when the news of his return echoed through the walls. Next to your faithful friends, men, family and servants, there you were, in the center, next to your new sister. The smile that stamped his front was raised when he saw your serious and nervous figure waiting for him. The son of a bitch looked like he had won the biggest of the prizes. And in fact, he did it, after all, his image was built for that.

For the reconstruction of the Republic.

No word of his speech was heard by you, just waiting for such torment to end. But the celebrations were just beginning. At first, he did not go directly to meet you, but in the middle of the night, when you were away for too long in a distant room, he approached surreptitiously with gentle steps.

“Even though it was a generous proposal, a large part of me thought you would refuse it,” he said, calm with a breeze.

A sigh was your first reaction.

“A large part of me thought about refusing.”

He stood next to you, or in front of you (depending on the perspective) in the hallway.

“And what made you change your mind?”

“I don’t know,” you replied.

“Don’t you know?”

“No, I don’t know.”

“So why are you here?”

“I was afraid of being alone, not that I’m not at the moment. Not that the other option was less worse, in fact, both were bad enough.”

“And what was the other option?” He asked with a mixture of humor, surprise and curiosity with his sincere answer.

“Your sister can answer that.”

He didn’t hold his smile this time, even if weak and nasal. After that, he was silent for a while, posture changing up before speaking even lower:

“I’m sorry for your brothers.” Perhaps it would have been better to have been silent since your only reaction was to walk in the same direction that he came, leaving him behind, or trying. “Wait, wait! I’m sorry, it was something stupid to say.” He held your arm firmly, but without being rude, as he got even closer.

“Yes, it was,” you agreed and showed the frown you fought so hard to disguise.

“There was nothing to do about them,” he confessed.

“No? Did your supporters say that or was it your idea to declare them as enemies?” You asked (accused) him.

“Would they accept to be loyal to me?”

Of course not.

“I thought you was doing this for the people and the Senate, to restore the Republic,”

“And I am, but would they accept this if it was done by me?”

You smiled with mockery, looking the other way and leaving him unanswered.

“I know you have enough reasons not to trust me, or hate me, but I don’t intend to fail as a husband, and I don’t intend to disrespect you,” he said, trying to soften.

“Just like you disrespected Cicero?” You remembered the incident at Livia’s wedding.

It was his turn to sigh, releasing your arm to hold your hand.

“Cívero married her because her family is rich. That’s why everyone gets married: money, power and family. That the only thing that’s matter.”

“That’s why we’re getting married. Money, power and family,” you said bitterly.

“Yes, it’s. But I know it wasn’t an easy decision fot you to make.”

If your conscience wasn’t trying to push him away, you could have noticed a certain compassion in his beautiful eyes.

“No, you don’t know. You don’t.” That was too much, no, it was an excess of what you could handle. “You have no idea what it’s been like to live with this burden. The people I loved are dead and I feel that at any moment I will be next, and I will still marry you. No, you don’t know how I feel. My father would bitterly deny me if I were alive, my brothers too, because I’m going to marry you, because I’m a fucking traitor!” Tears collapsed violently from your eyes. “Because I have nothing else, there’s nothing left.”

Oh no. He advanced on you with a tight hug, holding your head against his chest. “It’s ok, it’s ok, you’ll be fine, I promise, I’m sorry, I’m sorry for all this. I promise I won’t betray you, I promise, I’m sorry.”

You didn’t know how many tears you had saved for that moment, for him. Because of him. You couldn’t imagine leaning over to seek comfort in him, squeezing him so hard to prevent him from running away. But he wouldn’t go anywhere, no, he wouldn’t. He wrapped you in a cocoon while holding the back of your head. The inconvenient thought that incriminated him for your situation was unpleasant to deal with, for him, and unconsciously, for you, a small relief was present in the back of your mind because no one was around.

“I promise you, nothing less than respect. I can’t get back what was lost, but I can guarantee new things,” he said when you calmed down.

“I don’t need jewelry, Gaius, or dresses, or maids. I already have that, I’ve always had it,” you countered it.

“I’m not talking about material goods. Some things need interference to be solved, others can be remedied by time, or mitigated. I don’t intend to put pressure or do little of you, I know it wouldn’t work, and that’s not how I want to solve things between us. I hope one day you can forgive me, I’ll be waiting for that.”

Taking a risk by kissing your forehead with affection was dangerous, but touching your lips was off limits. He has waited so long for you, since he saw your wide eyes and beautiful face at Livia Drusilla’s wedding. A beautiful girl from an important family, the same family involved in the size of her great-uncle, yet a beautiful girl to have by his side. He knows it was cruel to have made such a proposal, but it would be even more cruel to leave you for your luck. He could not allow this, not when your fragility was exposed to him in a more frighteningly palpable way, not when even in suffering you confronted him. Call him a fool or hopeful, but he believed that eventually, taking time or not, you would be totally his.

The confusion was evident in your eyes when he felt for the first time the slight landing of soft and gentle lips against your own. His lips... kissing you. Your eyes closed in the final seconds, before a whispered statement was sworn to you in a serious and masculine tone:

“Everything will be fine.”

————————

I didn’t like this as much as I imagined.

general taglist: @chompchompluke

tag for this fic: @lovelykhaleesiii @arcielee

#gaius julius x reader #young!gaius julius x reader #domina hbo #tom glynn carney #gaius octavius x reader #gaius julius caesar #emperor augustus #fanfiction #tom glynn

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ancientcharm · 23 days

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Commodus: The end of an Era. "The reign of Commodus marked the end of the Golden Age and the beginning of the Age of Rusty Iron." Cassius Dio

Lucius Aelius Aurelius Commodus was born on August 31, 161. Curiously, he was born on the same day and month as 'Caligula', the first assassinated Roman emperor. He was the first who been born being the son of the reigning emperor, Marcus Aurelius.

M. Aurelius and Verus ruled together in perfect cooperation for eight years. Verus fought against the Parthians who had threatening to take Syria and Armenia. Returned to Rome and had his triumphal parade without knowing that he and his legions were carrying a virus that arose in the war zone. The plague spread throughout the empire and was the deadliest in Roman history. In 169 Lucius Verus died due this plague.

The boy Commodus

In 172, at age of 11, he received, in the presence of the army in Germania, the title Germanicus (a victory tittle). He participated alongside his father in several battles.

175. His mother, Empress Faustina the Younger, died of natural causes in Cappadocia where she accompanied her husband. On the same year Commodus entered the College of Pontiffs, which was the starting point of his public career.

176. Marcus Aurelius granted him the position of Imperator, and the following year the title Augustus.

In January of 177, at the age of 15 , he became the youngest consul in the history of the Empire.

178. At age of 16 married to Bruttia Crispina, a very rich 13 year old girl from a family close to the imperial Domus since the time of emperor Hadrian.

March 17, 180, Marcus Aurelius died of natural causes and Commodus became sole emperor at the age of 18.

His first measure was to sign peace treaties both with Germanic tribes and some rebellious people of Britannia. This was frowned upon by his contemporaries, but modern historians agree that it was the only good action he ever took during his entire reign.

About his sister.

Lucilla had been co-empress and held the title Augusta along with her mother when she married the co-emperor Lucius Verus. Following Verus' death, Marcus Aurelius married her to senator Tiberius Pompeianus, a man of humble origins and without ambitions. In this way she lost the privileged position that she had.

In the winter of 181-182 Lucilla with her cousins Quadratus Annianus and Ummidia Faustina, her husband's nephew, Quintianus, and her own daughter Plautia, agreed to assassinate Commodus in the exit hallway of Flavian amphitheater (Colosseum) .The one chosen to kill was Quintianus. Incredibly, although proven, Pompeianus was completely unaware of the plot of his wife.

According to historical sources, when Quintiano saw Commodus, instead of stabbing him, slowly took out his dagger, showed it to him and said "The Senate send to you this dagger." Commodus shouted for his guard who immediately arrested him. The names of the involved were quickly known; Quintianus and Quadrato were executed. Lucilla, her daughter, and U. Faustina were sent into exile on Capri but and also executed there.

Following this event, he distanced himself from the elite and began to trust only in people of humble origins, among them Marcus Aurelius Cleander, former slave and freedman of Marcus Aurelius. In a short time he held important positions until he became the head of the Praetorian Guard.

In 187 due his wife's failure to become pregnant, banished her to Capri. 26-year-old Commodus, instead of marrying another aristocratic woman, chooses to have a concubine- Marcia, daughter of a freedwoman of co-emperor Lucius Verus.

The emperor treated her as a wife, so she had the same power and influence as an empress. It is very probable that Marcia was a Christian since she convinced Commodus to implement a pro-Christian policy, and had a close relationship with Victor I , Bishop of Rome.

Villa of the Quintilii and the rebellion of the people.

Commodus and Marcia retired to the lavish Villa of the Quintilii, whose ruins are today an archaeological site. On April of 190 the people had revolted in Rome because of famine.

There is a suspicion that the shortage of food may have been caused by the prefect of Annona (the import and free distribution of grain to the people) Papirius Dionysius who blamed Cleander.

During a horse-race in the Circus Maximus, the audience to rioted against Cleander. He escaped and managed to reach the Villa of the Quintilii to ask the emperor for help, but the mob followed him there. Commodus, fearing the fury of the people, ordered Cleander to be beheaded. He then also ordered the execution of the prefect of Annona Papirius Dionysius.

By then Commodus was already showing signs of an extreme megalomania and paranoia. The list of people executed, accused without evidence of conspiracy, including his own aunt, consuls, senators and praetorians, is endless. Those conspiracies were only in his mind.

He gave himself the title PIUS, title that the Senate had granted to his maternal grandfather the Emperor Antoninus, and ordered sculptures and busts of himself to be made representing him as Hercules.

Madness and death

In 192 changed the name of Rome to "Comodiana" and announced that a new era was approaching, he called it Saeculum Felix (Happy Century). The months also was renamed with Commodus own names and titles as well of his dynasty. Thus, the year would begin with the month Imperator followed by Caesar, Augustus, Commodus, Germanicus, Pius, Lucius, Aelius, Aurelius, etc, not even the mystical month of July was saved from this folly.

According to historical sources, he had shaved his beard, which had been in fashion since his grandfather's time, and also changed his thick curly hair for Gladiator curt hair style. Had his own games in which he fought with gladiators, who were forced to consume opium and drink wine excessively to ensure the victory of Commodus.

On December he announced that starting in the new year everything would change in Rome since the Senate wold be dismissed. Senators along with Marcia, who had had enough of Commodus, began to plan his death.

During the feast of December 31 Marcia put poison in his food, but Commodus had drunk too much and vomited immediately, so he ended the party and ordered that his bath be prepared.

Senators made Plan B; They sent a freedman named Narcissus, who "because of his size and strength he did not need to hide daggers or swords, his hands were enough." Narcissus found Commodus in the bathtub, and strangled him. Other sources say he drowned him in the bathtub. Be that as it may, 31 years old Commodus never saw his long-awaited new year.

On January 1, 193, Praetorian Guard auctioned the throne to the highest bidder; The final price was stipulated at 25,000 sesterces per soldier. Pertinax bought the position of emperor but on March he was also murdered. Then Didius Julianus ruled for a few days. Finally, that same year, the winner of the civil war Septimius Severus became the first emperor originally from the province of Africa. Born in Leptis Magna (in modern Libya) was of Berber and Punic origin, and with his wife Julia Domna, a young noblewoman born in Syria and Arab origin, they created the Severan Dynasty.

Commodus was not wrong when he said that from that year on everything would change in Rome.