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samanthapagesof · 4 years

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Ep. 1 Nightshade: Atropa Belladonna

The crisp cool air covering her like a wool blanket, scratching the layers of goosebumps consuming every inch of her body. Her heart pulsating so loud, her ears felt as if they are about to burst. The slight shake in her hands as she watches the young girl, Cecilia, sitting in front of her grind, and smash these vivid purple berries into a paste. She was using a mortar and pestle made from the stone of the sea, a gift Livia’s dear friend sent to what seemed like a lifetime ago. The day Livia opened it Cecilia was speechless and a single tear fell from her beautiful evergreen eye. The connection between Cecilia and that mortar and pestle seemed odd to Livia. Yet, she told Cecilia that she was allowed to use the mortar and pestle for her potions and poisons as long as Livia was never on the receiving end of one of the poisons. The girl sprinkled a small amount of magic into the paste and hummed an enchanting melody.

The empress could remember when Augustus brought Cecilia to her, she was a beautiful young skittish girl whose skin was kissed by the star in the sky. Barely 14 years old, she had dirt beneath her fingernails and twigs and leaves sticking out from her light almost white yellow hair. When the slaves tried to clean her she demanded they save the mess of foliage from her clothes and hair so she may make a proper wreath to honor “the goddess”.

It was then she received her first lashing the child’s back was an open wound for weeks, dripping with pus and oozing a vile odor that from time to time Livia, out of pity, would rub a poultice mixed with herbs and mud on her back to soothe the pain. A trick she was taught by Cecilia. An odd child, who even though she was forced to endure constant punishments, she never wavered in her beliefs, and this was a quality respected by the Empress.

“I can’t quite remember where it was Augustus brought her to me from, somewhere along the sea, north from us I believe, or was it south? I’m not sure. Although from the stories I’ve heard it was quite a beautiful place. ” Livia thought to herself.

It was quite graceful how she is able to squish the berry and not get a single drop of juice on her. Instead, her body works as if designed to do just this. The empress sat in admiration of her ward, acknowledging the intelligence Cecilia held between those ears of hers, Tiberius was quite taken with her when she first arrived. He demanded she spend every waking moment with him and that he was going to marry her as soon as they came of age. The poor boy had no way to prepare for her rejection. She responded to his marriage proposal with a swift kick to the shin and a declaration that no person can have her, that she belongs to the earth, and the spirit of the moon.

Cecilia added more herbs to her concoction and continued to hum an enchanting tune

That day so long ago was filled with sadness beyond the pain of having Tiberius’ heart broken. Even with Livia’s protection, she was not above disrespecting the Emperor and his wishes and those of his son. This was the day everything changed. Including Livia’s perspective of her husband, yet didn’t change the opinion she had of her son. As punishment for denying a man of power Cecilia was beaten bloody and exiled from Rome. To return meant death.

Now, years later the two women sit across each other as opposites, it is Livia who sought out Cecilia and begged her help.

“Fetch me that satchel from the horse Cecilia, I fear I may forget something if I don't pack it away correctly. It is of the utmost importance no one knows we were here, a single trace can be disastrous to what must be the future.” Livia shakingly spoke.

“I do my own bidding now Livia, fetch your own satchel. For it is you who has a monster to fear not I.” Cecilia snapped.

“Fine, child. Misbehave like always.” Livia responded and rose to retrieve the basket from the horses. She turned from Cecilia, took a few steps and turned to look back at what was once like a daughter to her. Cecilia, still meddling away, pauses to push up her sleeves to reveal deep pink scars around her wrists, a reminder of the time she spent under the empress. Livia shudders at the sight of her dark history and continues to the horses.

A few steps to walk over the roots to where both their mares stood tied to the leaning tower of an Oaktree. It’s roots sprouted from all over the ground. Twisting and turning, design patterns like lace but bulky and rigid. The sky was rose and lavender mixed with orange as the sun sank from the sky and the stars began to shine. Standing under the painted sky, Livia caught herself in memory or rather a stream of memories, each about the same event but saved from over a period of 50 years.

Augustus is her second husband, and Tiberius was a result of her first marriage. In later years Augustus adopted Tiberius and it was then she knew his fate was set. He was the spitting image of a demi-god and it would be at Tiberius's word that the world would be one under the emperor Tiberius. The seas would roar in honor of such a definitive leader and at his sword, each enemy would fall and be used to pave the way to the heavens to which she and her son would sit together and rule all. It was no secret that the emperor was one with specific tastes, ones specifically for young, beautiful girls. Over the years Livia grew to live with her husband's constant infidelity because their marriage was never really one based on love but instead mutual respect, it was a partnership.

As the years rolled on the partnership began to waver when rumors about Livia's intent were questionable. She has always fought for the welfare of her son, his future was her future and he is destined for greatness. But members of the elite, too felt their champions in life were worth more than the plate they were served. The doubt in Livia started with the sudden death of Claudius Marcellus, Augusts nephew, considering his very mysterious death now meant one less possible successor for the line to be emperor. Then the mysterious deaths of Augustus's exiled son, two young boys Gaius, and Lucius. Their deaths were ruled by illness. Something quite peculiar considering the recent visit from a representative of Livia.

This memory is something she holds as a sacred testament to their partnership and commitment. An overall representation of what she and the emperor were to one another. She taps the forehead of her mare and grabs a brown leather satchel from behind the saddle and returns to Cecilia. Who had finished preparing the poultice Livia had requested.

Cecilia packed away the items and pulled a fig from the tree above where they were sitting, she grabbed a small wooden spoon from her pocket and spoke “To take advantage of the potency in these berries you must not touch it with bare hands, take a wooden spoon and cover the item with a thin layer of the poultice. Once it makes contact with the skin it will take an hour to kill. If the monster you seek to end, should have a small yet recent open wound it will take mere minutes to stop the heart.

“Oh, Cecilia, how the world has changed for both you and me, what I wouldn’t give to go back and rewrite the past and change the decisions I have made.” Livia looked up to the sky with tears falling from her chin.

“The past is set and all we can do is move into the future, Livia. There was a time for tears but not anymore. Pull yourself together and finish the task you have set out to do. In addition, this is the last time you will see me. I can no longer be tied to you, and the path you have chosen. I wish you no ill will and will mention you in my whispers to the goddesses.

Cecilia mounted her mare and rode off into the darkness. Livia sat alone, allowing the silence to fuel one last look on that memory she once held so dear. Then she to mounted her horse and rode back to the emperor.

She hung the brown leather satchel next to the door of her chamber. Across the garden beneath her, she could see right into Augustus’s chamber. It had been years since they shared a bed together.

Most nights he kept the windows shut, out of respect for Livia. She only ever asked him to never force her to see his deplorable acts and in that request, her willful ignorance could shield her from heartache. She stood at the opening starring up to the night sky filled with little sprinkles of light, the evening air washing over her. No one was there and she stood staring into emptiness. Her mind filled with worry as she started considering what choices lead her to this point, and even a sliver of doubt in her plan had crept its way into her mind. And to what seemed like fate that on this night she could see directly into the room, where once no one stood, Augustus now stood in the embrace of a woman, the stewardess of the kitchen in fact. She was entrusted with preparing his meals, because according to him “She is the only one who knows what he wants.” Entangled with the stewardess he stops and his eyes meet Livias. It was like in that moment he felt a sliver of guilt and he just stared at her, and she back at him. A few moments pass and the stewardess notices his pause, Augustus then walks forwards and shuts the window. Staring at the now sealed window, Livia felt any kindness in her slip away as she put her hand to her lips and blew a kiss to her husband and went to bed.

The next morning Livia awoke to find Augustus sitting at the end of her bed, dressed in his robe with her cloak sitting next to him, he took a deep breath and spoke, “I must apologize for the unfortunate events you witnessed last night. I have warned the guards about keeping my windows shut. But it seems they were preoccupied last night with drinks and women.” Livia forces a smile and comforts him “I understand that mistakes can happen, my dear, let us just move past this mishap and continue on our day. I assume you are ready for our outing?” “Yes my love, I am ready. I will meet you at the horses” Augustus’s rose and left her room, but not before he could turn around and smile at Livia, that smile that used to make her weak in the knees. A smile that promised partnership and companionship. “Oh, I almost forgot to mention, Tiberius is said to return within two days’ time. We received word from him this morning.” A jolt of joy made Livia jump out of bed and exclaim “that is wonderful, it has been too long since I have seen my dear son. Oh, how I have missed him so. I ache for him to be in my arms again.” Augustus smiled and nodded then left her room.

Now dressed and ready to join Augustus, Livia puts the brown leather satchel over her shoulder, takes a deep breath, and is joined by her handmaids. The group of women walks down to the stables where Augustus is sitting on his stallion, with a hand extended to guide Livia upon her mare. The two ride along a familiar path, for the majority of the ride Augustus, spoke of news of the world and messages he had received in the morning about potential dangers from across the sea. But Livia kept her eyes forward with the occasional nod to acknowledge her listening. But the only thing in her mind was Tiberius and his return to her. How she longed to hear his voice, run her finger through his hair, and feel whole again. Tiberius is the other half of her heart and without him, she is half alive.

They arrive at the leaning tower of an oak tree, its roots sprouting from the ground twisting and turning like lace but rigid. She dismounts her mare as he does from his stallion. The pair walk along the roots, to sit beneath an overflowing fig tree, together they sit beneath it letting the sun wash over them like a warm wave of water. The satchel still tightly around her shoulder she leans over to Augustus and asks “My dear, it seems I have forgotten my water pouch, could you retrieve it from the left side of my saddle?” “Sure, I will be right back” Augustus responds. With his back to her, he walks through the roots on the ground and nearly trips. They two share a laugh at his un-coordination. He turns his back to her again.

She quickly and quietly removes the poultice from her bag and the small wooden spoon and carefully layers two figs hanging above her. Then puts the items back in the satchel and tightens it around her shoulder once again. Augustus walks back over and stands above her, looking down. He hands her, the water pouch and winces in pain, he exclaims “Ow, something pricked me.” He put his right finger to his lips and sucked on the open wound. “It seems you are in need of a new water pouch. We will have one made when we return. I wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself.”

He moved to sit next to her again. Instead, he is interrupted, “August my sweet, I believe I see the finest fruit of them all, look to your right next to her head. Don’t those figs look just perfect? I must have them. Here put them in the basket.” He reaches up and pulls the two-pieces of fruit from the branch next to him, one with his right-hand one with his left, and drops the fruit in the basket. He sits down next to her and leans his head back and closes his eyes. Livia stared at him, remembering all of the years and hours they spend under this very tree. Picking figs was an agreed outing the two refused to miss. It was the time they were free from judgmental eyes and could be themselves.

A few minutes passed and his eyes spring open and his body began to spasm uncontrollably. He looks to his dear wife and begs for help, but instead, she brushes his hair behind its ears and she leans down to whisper in his ear, “Oh my sweet Augustus, the emperor, the legend, the man, who believed to be untouchable. My love, go rest easy now. For it is time for the true emperor to take land and sea to rule as one. Tiberius is the future and destiny.” Augustus in his dying breath says “Live mindful of our wedlock, Livia and farewell" and he died as he kissed her cheek. She sat staring down at him, shut his eyes, and was filled with relief. Tiberius is to return and she is no longer tied to the man who stood in the way of her and her son's density. She gently kissed his cheek and laid on the grass next to him, blanketed with warmth from the summer sun she started to hum a familiar melody and dreamt of the future to come.

#Atropa belladonna #Deadly Nigthshade

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