Emperor Geta X You - Blog Posts

a father’s love

synopsis: a character study of emperor geta and his dearest daughter (1.6k)

pairings: emperor geta & his daughter: julia domna & her granddaughter

contents: attempted infanticide, unhealthy relationships, mentions of violence, geta is doing his best to be a father! the daughter is never explicitly named in this work, but im sure in future works she'll be named! a/n: also, I'm slightly tweaking the years of geta and caracalla's rule, but that doesn't matter much other than they're ruling much longer than they realistically did. ientaculum is a form of breakfast!! it's a meal romans used to eat right after they woke up! it's nothing lavish! (also peep the marie antoinette movie reference)

divider by: @saradika !!

masterlist!!

ten years prior

the woman tries to hush the small baby, ignoring how soft hands putter against her arm in a pitiful attempt to escape. 

her baby is no older than three weeks, yet the woman has already let her live too long. there is no telling what the emperors would do if they learned of her child.

she had let the baby live out of pure selfishness, knowing her freedom from the emperors was only temporary until the conflict with a neighboring country ended.

she had selfishly ridden out her pregnancy, fooling herself into the belief that the emperor would cherish this child, and then it ended up being a little girl.

then she knew the child was doomed to death if she was caught.

so, with a gentle kiss goodbye, the woman wraps an old robe around the baby’s face, crying as she wails and twists underneath the material, trying to evade death.

-

the doors to the concubine quarters are slammed open, splintering off the wall as guards rush in, spears and swords brandished into the dark room. the woman splutters with shock as she pushes down harder on the wailing child, trying to fight the stronger hands pulling her back. 

she only surrenders when the tip of a sword meets her exposed neck, a slight gush of blood welling up to the cut, and a guard unwraps the baby’s face, the reddish skin slightly cooling as the night wind blows in through the windows. 

for a minute, she prays that the gods take mercy on her child and that the guards are only here to finish what she had started. but when the familiar smell of cinnamon and opobalsam fills the air, she knows her prayers weren’t answered. 

from the corner of her eye, a pale hand wraps around her baby, engulfing her child in a blur of golden rings and pale skin.

she knows that her prayers weren’t answered when imperator geta leans down to study her baby, lips twisted into a cruel scowl. 

she knows her prayers weren’t answered when imperator geta leaves with her baby, and a sword is plunged into her neck. 

-

rome, 211 ad

the moon seemed to cast a shadow on the entirety of palatine hill. there was little sound, besides the gentle whispering of the wind ruffling leaves and grasses, accompanied by the occasional animal noise.

if one strained their ears, they would hear the gentle pitter-patter of bare feet on the floors, accompanied by the minuscule shushing of julia domna.

the former empress leads the redheaded child through the halls of palatine hill, ignoring the multiple guards bowing their heads in respect as they whisk through the halls.

before they reach the main atrium, julia soothes down a curl on the girl's head before she lifts her veil, "neptis, this is where we part".

the child's lips quirk down into a frown before she smiles once more, the promise of being with her father soon. after their nighttime walks through the halls of palatine, julia always stopped before entering geta's section of palatine. she wasn't sure if it was out of respect or out of fear of her son.

at times, she wished she was like her granddaughter, fearless and full of love for the emperors. whilst the child was always stuck firmly on her father's side, she had indulged in caracalla's occasional affection for his niece.

on the occasion, when geta allows the child to accompany them outside of palatine to the occasional gladiator fight, julia could pretend her children weren't at each other's throats for full control of rome, and that her family had more concerns than a throne.

but for now, julia is content with watching the child hurry off into the dimly lit hallways leading to her son's chambers, getting intercepted by one of his personal guards after a few seconds.

she will see the child tomorrow, hiding in her father's shadow as they loom over the citizens of rome.

-

geta stalks the halls, waiting for the familiar sound of his child's poorly hidden laughter. she adored circling the guard as they walked through the halls, easily entertained by the sway of the guard's cape.

with a loud laugh, his child rushes into his hallway, grinning back at the guard, illuminated by the dim torches. perhaps if his child paid more attention, she would've been alerted to his rapidly approaching figure, closing in on her. he watches as the guard backs away, disappearing into the shadows of the halls as he reaches his child.

striking like a snake, geta collects his child in his arms, laughing at the terror that paralyzes the smaller body, stiffening in shock. however, once gathered in her father’s arms, resting her cheek against exposed skin where his armor ends, the child soothes, growing boneless as she slumps against him.

for a minute, he indulges in her childishness before they walk once more, striding through the heavily guarded halls as they near their chambers. the child keeps her hand firmly clasped around the material of his cloak, rubbing it between her fingers.

the sound of his armor and her breathing seemed nonexistent as they walked together, her eyes drooping with fatigue as the halls stretched on.

selfishly, geta tugs her impossibly closer before picking her up, allowing her to curl up against the chilled gold of his armor, tugging his cloak to the side, covering her upper body as they walked.

it was moments like these when geta was content with having a daughter. a son would be the child of rome, the future imperator. a boy whose only purpose in life was to lead rome.

but a daughter? a daughter would be his.

alas, this child is his. while his citizens adored seeing his child and celebrated her birth with the same festivities, feasts, and ceremonies that he and caracalla had, there was nothing that could harm his child. her every move wasn't analyzed and scoured with harsh eyes, instead, she was celebrated as an offering of peace, a soothing balm to the tensions within his empire.

even though rome hadn't been born an heir, geta had been blessed by the gods with an endlessly smart child, sweet and unharmed by the lurking horrors that hid within their empire.

even if she wasn't a boy, geta selfishly loved his child. he should've sent her to the vestal virgins, she could've been loved and treasured by the priestesses and the vestals, learning the duties of a roman matron and being safe within holy walls.

but he couldn't seem to let her go far.

when she had first been born, geta had grown obsessive over finding her and her mother. he and caracalla had both banished their concubines and servants alike, paranoid about a potential traditor during their conflict with the neighboring countries.

caracalla had learned of her life first from a drunken concubine who had seen the child, who had been present for her birth. the concubine had seemingly talked for hours, continuing on and on with her story before the news had reached geta.

they had found her in his mother's old concubine quarters, being smothered to death by a robe.

he can still remember the wailing of her mother as his guards yanked the woman away, peeling the robe off his baby's reddened face. he was quick to move through the room, ignoring the woman who screamed and kicked at his guards, spluttering curses and begs alike.

he had leaned down to look at the pitiful child, breathing rapidly, but not a sound escaped her. she had laid there silently, helpless and struggling for breath as they looked at each other.

he remembered the burning heat of her skin as he collected her in his hands, wide eyes blinking up at him as her breathing eventually evened out, still silent as she slept against his chest. perhaps it was the trust that likened him to the child so much, a curious presence, uncaring about his brutality as she grew.

it was a weakness that could be easily exploited, a child too weak to overthrow a potential assailant, a child that would succumb to even the smallest ounce of poison slipped into her chalice. whilst caracalla was constantly paranoid over assassination attempts on his own life, geta worried for his child.

she brought nothing to his reign, no comfort in knowing he had a successor to carry on his legacy. she had no claim to the throne, but geta held claim over her, and she held a claim over him.

she was worryingly loyal, even as unrest between the emperors grew and roman citizens grew hostile. she was blissfully unaware of the unrest, of potential wars and conflicts burning their way closer to rome.

she held no expectations of him. there was no need to continue being an emperor once he was inside his side of palatine hill, hidden away from the eyes of his brother and guards alike. inside his chambers, all he needed to be was a father.

so, for now, geta will keep her locked away in palatine, and perhaps one day she will grow to hate it, to hate her father, and perhaps her loyalty will shift to caracalla.

perhaps she will stare out of the windows and down to the streets of rome, endlessly enviable to the children roaming the streets, and grow to hate the stiffness of palatine hill.

but for now, his child is content to curl up and sleep, uncaring of anything outside of her father and what cheese she will have for ientaculum tomorrow.