without_hesitation: (34)
Ilithyia ([personal profile] without_hesitation) wrote2014-03-21 02:11 pm
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Though she would not give voice to feeling, Ilithyia finds herself nervous at prospect of having Spartacus in home. Besides Capua, they have limited interactions to public venues, even in intimate moments, and though she has little love for the apartment she has been given, it is still a home of a kind. To open it to enemy leaves her with unsettled feeling in the pit of her stomach.

Yet she cannot be sure he still truly stands as enemy.

She has done nothing to prepare home as she may have with others. There is no food set out, no wine waiting for him. There is only her home as it is most days, clean, well-kept, a state which may surprise Spartacus when she has no slaves at disposal, but Ilithyia is a woman used to certain standards of living and will not live in squalor simply because she must now pick up after herself.

From the living room, Albinius makes a noise of protest and Ilithyia turns in time to see her son lose grip on couch and fall from standing position. She smiles fondly, watching as he struggles once more to stand.

He is growing more with each passing day and she cannoy deny she fears influence Spartacus may have upon him. It is no secret he detests her and she would not have him turn son against her. Yet there is little she can do to prevent such short of turning Albinius against Spartacus before he has time to truly change her son. It is with these thoughts whirling through mind she finds herself waiting for Spartacus, to introduce him finally and formally to his son.
bringer_of_rain: (Default)

[personal profile] bringer_of_rain 2014-03-22 04:15 am (UTC)(link)
The last time he was in her chambers, it was in Capua, in the ludus, and now he feels none of the dull rage and helplessness that he had felt then. He walks a free man, he'll enter her rooms as one and he'll leave them as one, and nothing now can change that.

What he feels... He isn't sure. Anticipation, but of what kind? Trepidation, some, perhaps. But in truth, perhaps, he has no idea how to feel.

He is going to see his son.

Arriving at the door he knows is hers, he knocks, and looks for stillness inside himself.