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megalony · 5 months ago

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Like A flower

This is a new Emperor Geta imagine which can be read as a prequel to Maimed My Wife. Thankyou anon for requesting this.

I hope you will all like it, please let me know what you think.

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Summary: Despite traditions and advice from the Senates, Geta can't just sit and wait while his wife is in peril in labour. So he goes to sit with her through the ordeal.

Enjoy.

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"What are you doing?" Geta's tone was an octave deeper than usual, laced with sleep and a hard gritty edge that gave away he had been soundly sleeping just a few minutes ago.

He nudged his head back on the pillow and tiredly peeled an eye open to look up at (Y/n), considering he was laid down and she was sitting up. He noticed that she was propped up in a mountain of pillows in a vain attempt to make herself comfy, but he wasn't sure why she was even awake.

He tried his best to open his eyes properly and look up at his wife.

He wasn't sure what time it was, but he judged from the dreary look in (Y/n)'s eyes and the tiredness written across her face that it was late. The only source of light in their room was the faint glow of the candle resting on the table beside the bed.

As his eyes adjusted to the faint glow in the room, Geta focused on (Y/n) as he slowly pushed himself up so he was sitting beside her.

She was reading a book.

(Y/n) paused, hovering her index finger over the line she had been reading so she didn't lose her place as she looked sheepishly across at her husband.

She could feel an apologetic smile pulling on her lips as she tilted the book down so it was resting on her thighs. It hadn't been (Y/n)'s intention to wake Geta up. She thought reading another chapter might tire her out enough for her to be able to get to sleep, but clearly it wasn't working the way she intended.

Her eyes followed Geta as he found the soft grey feather she always used as a bookmark for whatever novel she had picked up. Geta himself was never one for reading, but he was more than happy for (Y/n) to read passages of her books to him or poems she enjoyed. He found it rather soothing, but it was probably just her voice that enraptured him more than the stories themselves.

He slotted the feather into place so (Y/n) could place the book down on the table now that Geta was awake with her.

"Why are you reading so late?" He whispered while his hand delicately came up to rest beneath her chin, tilting her head in his direction so he could capture her lips in a kiss.

"Couldn't sleep." The words were uttered against Geta's mouth as he practically inhaled each breath (Y/n) tried to take.

She leaned her cheek into his hand and when their lips parted, (Y/n) tilted forward so she could lean against his shoulder.

"You should be resting." Geta curved his right arm around her lower waist and pressed a tired kiss against her temple. But he couldn't refrain from sliding his other hand across to rest on her stomach. It was late at night and the healers had said that (Y/n) would be set to have the baby in the next week or two. This was when (Y/n) was supposed to be resting and sleeping and not doing anything too strenuous.

She wasn't supposed to be sitting up through the night reading and draining herself like this.

Geta continued to brush his fingers over her bump and every now and then he scrunched up the fabric of her gown like he was tempted to rip the material so there was nothing separating him from her stomach.

His lips attached to the top of her head and he breathed in her scent for a few moments as he tried to gather his tired, wandering thoughts. But even as he glanced down at (Y/n), Geta could tell that she was tired. He didn't want to say that to her, it wouldn't be the kindest thing to say to the woman having his child. But she did look tired and it was late into the night.

"The baby won't settle and I can't sleep."

She wanted to. (Y/n) was desperate to lie down and go to sleep, but her back was twinging every few seconds and it didn't get any better when she tried to lie down. Then when she had laid down earlier, the baby kicked up a storm and started wriggling around, making it impossible for (Y/n) to manage any sleep. She thought she may as well try and entertain herself by reading if sleep was going to evade her.

"Well we can't have that, can we?" He murmured into her hair before he moved to lie back down again, his arms still around (Y/n) so she took the hint and laid down with him.

He helped her burrow into the nest of pillows that had slowly started to accumilate on the bed over the last few weeks. Some (Y/n) had requested and others the maids had simply brought and placed on the bed as they thought it might help and make (Y/n) feel better and have more comfort.

Lying on her back didn't help, if anything it added to the pressure and increased the pain so (Y/n) tried to turn and lay on her side. She wriggled and shifted around with her back to Geta and one of the pillows pulled down so she could burrow her face into the soft feathers and silk.

Geta smiled to himself, staying still while (Y/n) shifted every which way to try and get herself comfy. Once she seemed settled, he draped his left arm over her waist with his fingers brushing and drawing patterns over her bump.

He could feel her knees pulling up against her stomach and she shimmied around a few more times, clearly trying to lay in a position that didn't make her back twinge or disturb the baby. He attached his lips to her neck while his fingers danced across her lower abdomen, drawing aimless patterns and nonsense words to try and calm both her and the baby.

He had loved seeing (Y/n)'s shape change over the last few months and feeling their baby move and show how strong they were was like a dream.

Geta felt a sense of pride at the fact that it hadn't taken them long at all to conceive a baby, and this was their first. He knew his own mother had struggled to have a living child, although she succeeded in the end by having twin boys, and surviving the ordeal. But he and (Y/n) were lucky.

Her health hadn't declined at all, if anything (Y/n) was growing stronger each day and their baby was clearly strong and brave. He was hoping that this was a sign, that everything going well meant that when (Y/n) went into childbirth, everything would go smoothly and she and the baby would be fine afterwards.

It was no secret that Geta had been worrying as much as he was celebrating about this baby. He didn't like things going too well because he felt like the Gods were testing him and they would send tragedy down to him when things were going too well.

But as they laid there with his hand on her stomach and his face burrowed into the crook of (Y/n)'s neck, he allowed himself to smile into her skin. He banished the paranoia and panic he felt and tried to bask in the happiness that he was feeling right now.

(Y/n) was sure she heard him muttering something about going to sleep and settling the baby, but she was too exhausted to focus on making out his words. She let herself bask int he feeling of his teeth grazing her neck and his hand gliding all across her stomach.

The memory of the previous night hung at the forefront of (Y/n)'s mind as she slowly sat up in bed.

She could still hear Geta's voice from this morning when he told her to stay in bed and rest. (Y/n) had been close to disagreeing with him but she had been tired enough that all Geta had to do was kiss her temple and nudge her back down on the bed and she complied. She heard him telling the maids to disappear, to leave (Y/n) to rest and that was all she heard before her mind switched off and let her go back to sleep.

But now that she was awake, (Y/n) didn't feel very well. Last night it had been her back and the baby constantly moving that made her feel uneasy and broken. But the very brief twinges (Y/n) had felt last night were now uncomfortable and strenuous.

She had been prepared for this. Her mother and the maids had prepared her for what would happen when she was with child but things had been so much easier than they made it seem. And (Y/n) knew that was because of Geta. No one had expected him to be so doting and worried.

They thought Geta would become distant, that he wouldn't be around (Y/n) as much when she was pregnant. The Senates expected him to retreat and find concubines. The healers expected him to have separate lodgings from (Y/n) while she was pregnant. And no one expected him to be attached to her hip and become fiercely protective over her the way he was.

(Y/n) moved her hand to cradle her temple that was beginning to throb and ache like someone was chipping away at her like she was a statue made of marble.

Her other hand pressed down into the mattress to keep herself sitting upright and to stop from falling back on the bed. If she laid down she might not be able to will herself to get back up again.

"Morning, my lady."

Her head turned to the left and she smiled when she saw Blaire timidly walking into the room. But once she realised the Emperor wasn't here, her demanour relaxed and she seemed to thaw out.

Blaire was one of the maids who served (Y/n) and she had become a friend, someone (Y/n) felt she could relax around and talk to without feeling self conscious or uneasy.

"Morning." (Y/n) did her best to hide the wince from her face when her temple throbbed worse and her stomach tightened.

She moved both hands to the edge of the bed and slowly stood to her feet. It was time to get up, it was well past time to get up when (Y/n) was used to waking with Geta and starting her day after dawn the same as him. Although (Y/n) wasn't sure she would be doing very much today with how awful she was feeling.

"Are you alright?" Blaire stood beside the bed, clearly waiting to be told what she should do in terms of helping (Y/n) dress or making the bed. (Y/n) was never one to let the maids help her dress, not until it started to become difficult with her intricate dresses now she was pregnant.

(Y/n) tried to nod, but she knew she wasn't very convincing and she wasn't sure where she was trying to move to. Whether she was aiming for the closet or the table to fetch a drink, she wasn't too sure.

But three steps away from the bed, a gasp tumbled past (Y/n)'s lips and both her hands moved down to clutch her stomach when it felt like a coil within her had snapped.

Both women looked down to see water trickling down (Y/n)'s legs and creating a puddle on the marbled floor.

A quiet "Oh," left (Y/n)'s lips as her head snapped up to look over at Blaire. So this was why she had been in discomfort last night and why she was feeling so strange and run down.

The baby was coming.

(Y/n) wasn't sure that she was ready for this. This was the moment she had been waiting for and dreading at the same time. If anything went wrong, (Y/n) could lose her baby or quite possibly her life. Things had been going far too smoothly up to now, it felt like a daunting sign that something was bound to go wrong at some point.

She didn't realise Blaire had moved until she felt the young maid holding her arm and lower back as she slowly started to walk (Y/n) back until her knees hit the bed and she sat back down.

"I'll fetch the midwife, my lady."

"T-tell Geta, please?"

Tears were already building up in (Y/n)'s eyes when she thought about her husband and the fact that he wouldn't be anywhere near (Y/n) until after this ordeal was over.

She wanted him to know, (Y/n) wanted Geta to know she was in labour from the very beginning so he could be nearby. He could wait and pray for this to go smoothly. But what (Y/n) wanted most was something that wasn't going to happen. She wanted to have Geta here with her. Having him holding her hand right now would be a great comfort and his presence would be calming to (Y/n).

As Blaire hurried from the room, (Y/n) tilted her head down and wiped her hand beneath her eyes to try in vain to wipe away her tears.

She would have to endure this ordeal on her own.

***

Tears streaked down (Y/n)'s face as she slumped her head back into the pillows that were mounted behind her. She could feel her body trembling like she was laid on blocks of ice but she felt like she was beginning to burn up.

Her hand tightened around Blaire's as the young maid knelt beside her on the bed. She was being encouraging and a good source of support, but she wasn't the person (Y/n) wanted next to her and they both knew it.

She closed her eyes for a few seconds, basking in the feeling of the damp cloth that Blaire dabbed at her neck and forehead with the ice cold water she had retrieved not long ago. She tried to scream but it came out rather defeated from the lack of energy and the searing pain.

"H-how much longer?" There was such a pleading tone to (Y/n)’s voice as she looked over at the midwife who pursed her lips.

"Not much longer, Empress."

Somehow (Y/n) didn't believe that. They had been here for hours already. The sun was lowering, getting ready to set behind the sand and darkness would soon envelope them. They had been here for hours, almost a whole day of agony and it didn't ever feel like it was going to be over.

(Y/n) had been prepared for this, but that didn't mean she found it easy to endure the pain. Her only relief was the knowledge that so far, no one seemed panicked. Nothing had gone wrong, the baby was still in the position and moving agonisingly slowly, but everything was going in the right direction. There was no need for intervention which had been a big worry for (Y/n).

When another budding pain coursed through her body and had her screaming out, (Y/n) tried to move. She didn't know what to do with herself but lying down like this wasn't helping.

Her hands flapped about and pressed down into the bed until Blaire helped ease her back up so she was sitting upright. She leaned away from the pillows and pushed forward until she was creased over and her knees were still bent out to the sides. She could barely feel her lower half anymore.

Sobs bubbled past her lips and tears drenched her face as she tried to stop herself from gasping and switch to panting like the midwife had coaxed her to do earlier.

"Would you like to use the birthing chair-"

"No. I want Geta!"

(Y/n) didn't care how feeble and broken she sounded, all she cared about was wanting her husband here beside her. Why wasn't he allowed to be with her? Why couldn't he be here to witness this? If this wasn't a man's place then the Gods wouldn't have made it so that a man was needed to create a child. If this wasn't Geta's place then the Senates shouldn't be so concerned about his offspring. Healers wouldn't be allowed to be in the room if this wasn't a man's place.

(Y/n) didn't want to be doing this alone. She wanted her husband by her side, she wanted his hand in hers and his calming presence beside her and his words hushed in her ear.

What if this didn't end well? What if something happened and (Y/n) passed away? She wanted Geta here in case she was to suffer or this was to be her last moments.

The healers and the midwife had tried to tell Geta that he and (Y/n) should have separate chambers now she was pregnant. They told him that abstaining from sleeping together while she was pregnant was safest for her and the baby and Geta told them that he could abstain without needing to move rooms. He loved his wife and he wasn't leaving her side for anything. So why was this any different?

"This is no place for a man, my lady. That would be most improper, and you are doing splendidly."

If (Y/n) weren't in so much agony she would have held her chin high and told the midwife that she was the Empress. She was of high authority in Rome and she shouldn't be chided like that. She would have told the midwife that she wanted her husband and so he should be brought to her.

But (Y/n) wasn't in the right frame of mind to try and hold herself high and mighty and she didn't have the power within her to argue when she knew it wouldn't do her any good. In this room her status as Empress was demoted and she was simply a woman giving birth. The midwife had taken charge and the power in the room was now hers.

Tilting her head to the left, (Y/n) meekly looked up at Blaire with sorrow in her eyes. "Where is he?" She whispered brokenly.

She has asked for Geta to be informed and (Y/n) knew he had. She knew that he and the Senates would have been informed because the Senates would now be waiting impatiently. They were setting their hopes on a boy. They wanted (Y/n) to produce an heir to truly secure Geta and Caracalla to the throne. A boy would mean they were safe and their line of succession was not to be worried about.

(Y/n) knew when Geta had announced her pregnancy to the Senates that he had snapped at them for 'praising' him for such a swift line of succession. They had only been married three months before (Y/n) became pregnant. Geta had told the Senates that (Y/n) was their Empress and they had no need to act as if giving an heir was her only duty. No one had commented after that.

"In the next room my lady, with the Senates. They asked him to wait down in the hall, but he wouldn't stray from you."

Those words brought a wave of comfort to (Y/n)'s aching, mortified heart that was close to shattering at the pain she was in.

Geta had been told to wait in the great hall or in the drawing room or even in Caracalla's chambers. He wasn't supposed to be so close while the labour was happening, but Geta wouldn't listen. He wasn't going to allow the Senates to drag him to the other side of the palace and be away from his wife.

What if (Y/n) took a turn for the worst? What if she needed him? What if the baby wasn't well when they were born?

Geta had to be as close as possible so he was the first one to hear any news and in case anything went wrong and he had to divert to prayers for the safe delivery of his wife through this ordeal.

He had been praying to Juno for the past eight months, making sure she knew how desperately he wanted her to keep watch over the Empress and give her safe passage through childbirth. Of course Geta had prayed for his child too, but (Y/n) was his priority. He could cope with the loss of a baby, but he couldn't cope with the loss of his heart and soul.

So Geta was in the adjoining room, the study, waiting for any news on his wife who he needed to be close to.

"He's here?" (Y/n) spoke more to herself than to Blaire whose hand she squeezed and pulled towards her chest when a particularly harsh contraction tore at her muscles.

The thought of Geta being so close by was comforting but it was also harming because he wasn't here. He wasn't with her right now when she wanted and needed him. Desperately.

"Ooh… Geta!" Tears streamed down her face as she screamed loudly and allowed her head to hang forward like her neck had broken.

"No more." The words seethed past Geta's lips and he pushed to his feet before anyone realised what was running through his mind.

He couldn't do this.

He couldn't sit out here with all of these men, these imbeciles, waiting for news that was clearly going to take a while. Geta hadn't been persuaded to leave the chamber and move to the hall. He hadn't been persuaded to talk state matters and affairs of conquering and of war. No one could get him to speak. He wanted to sit in silence until the ordeal was over and he could see his wife and baby.

But Geta couldn't sit here any longer. He couldn't listen to the sound of his wife's screams- all of which he had heard since the moment he walked into their chambers. He couldn't hear her sob or scream or writhe in agony. The sounds were muffled but they were distinct and he heard her scream his name. That was the last straw.

She was calling out for him and if Geta didn't heed her wishes and go to her, he would never forgive himself. He would listen to her cries each and every night for the rest of his life and chastise himself for not looking after her when he should have done.

Maybe Juno would spare (Y/n) and their child, maybe the Goddess would look after them if Geta did the same. If he went in there now and comforted (Y/n) and did whatever he could for her, then perhaps Juno would see that he was serious in his prayers and she would listen to him.

After all, Geta was Emperor, he was the closest to God in all of Rome so his prayers had to be listened to. They had to.

His hands clenched into fists at his sides and he pushed off the sofa, rounding the table as he stormed towards the double doors that led into the bed chamber. He needed to see his wife. He needed to help her and make sure she was alright. She wanted him.

"My Emperor, it's a woman's ordeal, your place is to wait with us for news." Whichever of the Senates reached for his arm clearly realised their grave error when Geta snapped his head to the left and his dark brown eyes burned into their very soul.

"It's my wife, my child, therefore when my wife calls for me, my place is by her side."

Were they all really going to stand there and try to tell him that being with his wife when she was in clear agony was not his place? Who's place was it then to calm her down? The maid? The midwife she barely knew? A healer whose presence would cause more alarm than calmness?

"It's not proper-"

"Do you think it is proper to vex me in this mood, Senator?" The blade strapped to Geta's waist was quickly unsheathed and he held the blade to the Senator's throat with a menacing gleam to his eyes.

He wouldn't stand here and be told how to do things and how improper he was being. If they were going to go against their Emperor then they had to be ready to have their throats slit at his mercy.

No one in the room seemed to know what to do or how to respond. They were beginning to realise that spending their time with the diseased Emperor might be safer for them than here with the enraged Emperor. If Caracalla was in one of his enlightened moods then they would find favour with him.

"All of you get out."

No one needed to be told twice. The Senates didn't want to argue the fact that they should be here by tradition. That it was their place to stay here and await news. They needed to be told whether the succession was a Prince or a Princess. But they could be told the news by a servant. Waiting here was vexing the Emperor and he was no stranger to cutting the throats of those who irritated him.

The moment another scream coursed through the air, Geta turned on his heels and sped towards the chamber doors.

He threw them open with haste, allowing them to resound loud clattering bangs throughout the room that caught everyone's attention. Once he was in the room, Geta hastily shut the doors behind him so no lingering Senate could catch sight of his wife while she was indisposed.

"I'm here, I'm here love."

A loud sob left (Y/n)'s lips when Geta stormed into the room like a whirlwind. Her bleary eyes followed him as Blaire quickly retreated towards the window to make room for the Emperor to take her place on the bed.

Geta sat down on the bed with his thigh touching (Y/n)'s and his right arm quickly bound around her back with his hand cupping the back of her neck. He leaned in to attach his lips to her temple that felt like he was kissing the sun and scorching his lips, but it didn't deter him at all. And he allowed (Y/n) to hastily grab his left hand and clench so tightly he thought his knuckles were going to pop through his skin.

(Y/n) felt like stars were dancing in front of her eyes when Geta sat down beside her. She didn't think he would hear her, or that the Senates would allow him to come in here. Part of her wasn't even sure he would stay with her to begin with. But the fact that he was here caused hundreds of tears to pour down her face which she tucked up against his neck as she leaned into him and openly cried.

She heard him murmur "I'm here," into her temple again while his thumb began to glide up and down the back of her neck rather forcefully, giving her something to focus on instead of the overwhelming agony she was in.

But Geta snapped his eyes down to the midwife who was leaning over the end of the bed. She was frowning at him. Her brows were furrowed deep, her lips were rolled so tightly he couldn't see them and her prominent chin was jutting out and pointing in his direction.

"Sir this is most unbecoming-"

"If you wish to keep that tongue where the Gods intended then you will take care of my wife in my presence."

That was enough to stop the midwife from saying anything else. She did indeed want to keep her tongue and she had the prestige honour of delivering the Prince or Princess. She didn't want to ruin this honour by upsetting the Emperor.

"Another push now."

(Y/n) did as asked, pressing her chin into her chest as she snapped her eyes closed, trying to ignore the pain that was consuming her, but it didn’t work very well. She wanted this to be over, she wanted their baby to be delivered right now so everything could stop and she could find some sense of peace.

(Y/n) jolted at the sudden feeling of the cold washcloth pressing against her thighs but the cold temperature against her skin did feel soothing.

"Blaire, another sheet." The midwife ordered with a certain tone to her voice that Geta couldn’t quite decipher. He narrowed his eyes, leaning over to look at her but his breath got caught in his throat as he realised why she was asking for another sheet. The one beneath (Y/n)’s legs was stained with blood.

The midwife couldn't seem to look at Geta for long before she looked away, scrunching up the sheet and dumping it on the floor with a few used towels. She and Blaire made quick work of placing the new sheet on the bed beneath (Y/n)’s lower half. Geta didn’t know if there was meant to be blood or not, he wasn't equipped or taught in the ways of childbirth, but he suspected that was more blood than the midwife would have liked.

Although he was relieved that when he looked down again, this second sheet didn't seem to be soaked or drenched with blood which meant whatever was happening wasn't dire. The midwife still had things under control, she didn't need to resort to the healer who was waiting in the corner of the room in case anything went wrong and his services were needed.

"Push again Empress, the head’s almost born."

(Y/n) both moaned and screamed at the torture that was tearing through her muscles. Letting out a sharp breath, (Y/n) closed her eyes as she buried her face into Geta's neck, feeling him muttering praise against the top of her head.

(Y/n) started to push again on the next contraction like she was advised but she felt like she was becoming lightheaded. Geta kept his hand entwined with hers and his other hand began to stroke up and down her arm rather than her neck.

With her head tucked beneath his chin against his chest, it allowed Geta to attach his lips to the top of her head. He kept tight hold over her, hushing and murmuring into her hair as he let (Y/n) hold his hand to the point of breaking bones. He didn't care as long as it helped.

His presence beside her was clearly calming because she was no longer sobbing and he was calm too. He wasn't sat fretting, worrying about (Y/n) succumbing to death or becoming ill or deteriorating. Actually watching her like this meant Geta knew her screams were part of the process, not indicating a problem.

He wondered how other people could leave their wives to go through this ordeal alone. How could they be so selfish? With his own father Geta could understand; his father was a cruel man who didn't care for anyone but himself and his greed. His mother had been better off alone with her maids than with her husband.

But this was different. What (Y/n) and Geta had was special, their love was unlike any other and Geta was glad to be here with her. Any other children they had, Geta would be by (Y/n)'s side through it all.

"Almost there now, my love." Geta prayed that the long wait and the hinting signs of good fortune had not been deceiving the couple. He prayed that all would go well now.

"Please, Almighty God m-make it end now." (Y/n) pushed her words through gritted teeth as her free hand crossed over her chest until she could clutch her hand around Geta's arm. She tucked herself into his side and screamed as she tensed up and pushed like her life depended on it.

It felt like she had broken apart. A horrible ringing sounded in her ears, overcoming any other sound in the room. Her body was floating and shaking and tingling all at once. Her vision turned to black and white dots until (Y/n) had to close her eyes to stop herself from groaning and being sick.

"All done, Empress. You've done it."

Geta couldn't help the sigh of relief that left his lips as he pressed a flurry of kisses against (Y/n)'s temple. And he began gliding his fingers up and down her arm, drawing patterns and circles over her flushed skin until she seemed to come back to her senses again.

"There you are, my love." He hushed, pressing a chaste kiss to her ruby red, chapped lips before his eyes moved to the midwife.

He could feel (Y/n)’s hands slowly grasping his arms tightly that were coiled around her frame as her blurring vision fought to find the midwife holding her baby.

An overwhelming sense of dread crept through (Y/n)'s system the longer they waited for the midwife to speak.

Had she produced an heir to the throne? Had she had a son, or was she granted a daughter? Was their baby okay, were they living?

(Y/n) knew the Senates had been counting on her having a son. She knew that if she had a daughter, the Senates might see this as a betrayal. They would say that (Y/n)'s body had failed Geta, that she couldn't be a true Empress until she gave him a son and if she didn't they might just conspire against her. (Y/n) hoped Geta wouldn't see things that way.

She knew he wanted a son to follow the succession. It also meant that if Caracalla had any legitimate children, Geta's child would succeed first because they were first-born. Although it was highly unlikely that Caracalla would have any heirs of his own that were legitimate. But still, an heir to the throne was something that was Geta's and his alone. He wouldn't have to share this victory with his brother like he had to share everything else- apart from his wife.

"Come along little one… let’s have a cry out of you." The midwife’s words were rushed and out of breath.

She was stood at the end of the grand four-poster bed, her arms trembling with the child she knew needed to be alive for the sake of everyone in the room. Everyone in all of Rome, in fact.

"Geta…" (Y/n) could feel bile rising in the back of her throat and her body slowly tried to lean forward but Geta's strong hold wouldn’t let her. He knew if this went downhill then he would have to pin (Y/n) down to prevent her from gaining an injury and from tackling the midwife to get to their baby.

But as tears filled (Y/n)’s eyes and she felt Geta's chest tensing beside her, the sound of a startled but very strong cry shocked the room.

"A girl, Emperor."

Something strange flooded through (Y/n)'s system upon hearing those words and the disappointed tone in the midwife's voice. It felt like her body was changing, turning numb as she sank back into Geta's side.

That was the tone of voice that (Y/n) was expecting the Senates to use if they found out she'd produced a daughter, not a son. But she didn't expect it from the midwife.

It made her heart clench and stutter in her chest about the kind of response she was going to receive from Geta.

Most people, when they heard about the pregnancy, simply assumed and hoped that it would be a boy. Once or twice Geta had referred to the baby as 'the prince'. But most of the time he simply talked about their baby and having an heir, he never specified, but he didn't need to.

He needed a son to secure the succession. Having a girl wouldn't help the succession but a girl did mean marrying into other royal lines and gaining allegiances through marriage.

(Y/n) felt like her heart was beating for everyone in the room with how frantic and hard her organ was overworking itself. Her chest heaved as she tried to gain her breath back while she tilted her head back and looked up at Geta, desperate to gauge his reaction and see whether he was okay or if he was disappointed in her. She hated to disappoint him in anything but if he were truly upset in this moment (Y/n) didn't know how she would survive.

"Geta?" She didn't have the heart to reach out and touch him in fear of what he might say or do, fretting he might get up from the bed and silently leave the room in anguish.

Her arms coiled towards her chest and she suddenly held her breath when Geta leaned forward.

Her eyes watched him curiously as he leaned forward and extended his arms towards the midwife. No words were needed for the midwife to understand what she was being asked. She moved round to the side of the bed and carefully eased the newborn into Geta's tense, waiting arms.

No one expected him to smile.

He encased his arms towards his chest and smiled down upon the life resting in the crook of his elbow. The life he had helped create. The life he had witnessed being brought into the world.

His smile was warm, something softer and kinder than anyone had seen on the seemingly heartless Emperor that many were afraid of. No one thought he could look so lovingly upon anyone but his Empress. But the way he stared down at his daughter was as if the Gods had personally handed him something worth more than its weight in gold.

To him, this little girl was worth everything. More than all of Rome and her conquered lands.

Geta trailed his index finger down his daughter's plump cheek, barely able to tear his eyes away from her until he felt (Y/n)'s cheek delicately press into his bicep. He felt her hands curling around his arm as she leaned into him when it felt like a weight had been lifted from her shoulders.

He was happy. (Y/n) wasn't sure how she thought he could have been anything other than delighted in this moment. The Senates and their narrow-mindedness had panicked (Y/n), but sitting here now, seeing her daughter in her husband's arms, it was like nothing she had seen or felt before.

And when Geta leaned down and pressed a longing, searing kiss to her flushed temple, (Y/n) squeezed his bicep and smiled against his skin.

"She's such a precious little thing, like a flower."

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