[nsw-fic] The Eagle and The Dragon

[Primogen]

This isn't actually a Fanfic at all, but a piece of original fiction.

 

Prologue:

 

"Father, why did we have to leave Rome?" A young boy asked his father.

 

"Because our duty beckoned us elsewhere, we are to aid in bringing the glory of Rome to these primitive people. This duty was handed down by Emperor Titus himself, it is a great honor." The man was a tall, broad-shouldered man, clearly an aging warrior.

 

The great dromond moved smoothly through the still waters, the quiet beat of a drum and the oars plunging into water the only sound for long moments.

 

"Why do we obey him?" The boy spoke again.

 

There was another period of silence. The man ran his fingers through his thinning grey hair and neatly trimmed beard. "Valerian, you may not be old enough to hear this, but...I was a young man, a young officer in the Legions when Old Rome fell. The sky trembled and great tears of a darkness bleaker than the most grim night opened in the sky. A terrible screech came from these. I was terrified..." Valerian's father shook his head, looking a little spooked by the memory even today. "But Titus, my commander at the time...he was resolute. He was as uncertain and afraid as any, but it took him only a moment to understand."

 

"What did you do?"

 

"I did little. Titus marshalled the Legion, got the men's fears under control. Then we marched into the city, brought out as many as we could before the ground split open and consumed it all. Without Titus, Rome would have been nothing more than a hole. And then he lead us across the lands of darkness, for twenty long years before finally leading us in carving out a new home here. We all owe Titus our lives."

 

Valerian nodded. "He is a great man."

 

"Yes. And he has asked us this duty. And we shall perform it to the best of our abilities, for we are Romans. Are we not, Valerian?"

 

"Yes, father."

 

"Senator Aquilius!" Valerian's father looked up at the captain of the vessel, a weatherbeaten Roman clad in a black jerkin. "We've spotted the port at Midgard." He turned and pointed at a distant point on an island - Valerian could see the great purple banner - it was too distant to tell, but he could see in his mind what was written on it - S.P.Q.R.

* * *

 

It took only a handful of hours to dock at the port, where they were greeted by several Legionnaires and a hard-faced man clad in a toga marked with broad purple stripes. Valerian paused in his tracks, trying to remember the man's name.

 

"Aurelian." The grim-faced man spoke.

 

"Marcus." The two men gave each other thin-lipped smiles with no friendliness behind them. "I see the Priests of Mercury were able to convey the message."

 

"They were. And I see they left out a detail." Marcus said and looked at Valerian for a long moment. "Your son, I trust? I have not met him. I am Scipius Marcus Fulvius. Please, call me Marcus."

 

"Val-Valerian Aquilius, sir." Valerian stammered. "Marcus. Sir." He smiled uneasily back at the man.

 

"Quiet, isn't he." Marcus turned back to Aurelian. "Well, I trust you'll be wanting to get some rest. I never sleep well shipboard. I'll have my men take you to your new home, if you have no objections?"

 

"Actually, I'd like to get some work done. The Barbarians won't wait, neither should we. And I'm sure Valerian would prefer to stretch his legs."

 

"Very well." Marcus shook his head slightly. "But I'll have a man keep an eye on him. Wouldn't do to have some warlord like Aslaug or Mordred kidnapping the son of a Senator. This way, please." Marcus turned and began to walk up a cobblestone road, Aurelius indicating for his son to follow them. He walked at a brisk pace, the dull chatter of Marcus not really registering in his ears. Most of it was things he didn't understand, and the rest was things he didn't care much about. Politics, feuds, market prices.

 

"It's a bit of a walk, I'm afraid. Safer that way. I've got men training horses, but they tell me it'll be a few weeks. I don't trust the ones the barbarians use.

 

Valerian stared around as he walked through the city. It was nowhere near the glory of Rome, but it didn't look Barbarian - buildings made out of hard wood, with thatched ceilings and high stone walls enclosing the city and dock. The crowds had cleared the road ahead of them, guarded by Legionnaires, but past the Legionnaires he could see a bustling marketplace filled with tall, fair-haired men and women.

 

"Queen Aslaug will wish to meet you."

 

"Ah, so you haven't alienated her completely yet."

 

"She's not yet fifteen years old, she's hardly a threat. Apparently her father was some kind of hero. Sigurd, they call him.

 

"Don't underestimate her." Aurelian said. "It's foolish and dangerous. These Midgardans are not sheep, they follow her for a reason.

 

Valerian tuned out again as a great fortress became visible, a huge stone structure with great towers. He remembered they called these Castles, and they were common in this land. "Wow."

 

"Impressive." Aurelian sounded nearly as stunned as his son. "For Barbarians, they sure know how to work stone."

 

It took them some time to finish climbing the hill-city to the castle. The main gate was already open, and a young woman stood in the courtyard waiting for them. She was tall and well-muscled, with a long braid of blonde hair and an ornate sword sheathed at her side. "Welcome back, Senator Fulvius. Senator Aurelian, welcome to Midgard. I am Aslaug Sigurdsdottir, Queen of Midgard and leader of the Thanes." Her voice was polite, but even Valerian could hear the undercurrent of distaste and loathing.

 

* * * * *

 

His boots clicked in a rather ominous way as he walked through the massive castle, the quiet jingling of the armor of one of his father's Legionnaires never seeming far off. The sounds echoed through the corridors, making it nearly impossible to find out whether they were around the corner or on another floor.

 

"Hey!"

 

A head poked out from one of the doors, a girl about his age who looked different from most of the others - pale with a long, black braid. "Are you with the Red-armored men? Mother said you were invaders!"

 

He stammered, trying to find words. "Well, um...I'm not an invader. I'm Valerian."

 

"Oh." She glanced behind her, then stepped out into the corridor. "What's Valerian?"

 

"That's my name!"

 

"Oh." She blushed. "I'm Gwendolyn. Call me Gwen." She smiled at him. He smiled back.

[machievelli]

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