Commodus knew.

He knew that he was not chosen to be the next Emperor by his father. And alone that thought made Commodus blood boil. It was like anger crawled under his skin. He felt it. Looming over him like a lion eyeing his prey.

„your fault as a son.. is my failure as a father, Commodus..“

His whole life he tried to satisfy his Father. To make him see how good of a Leader he‘d be. Of course, Commodus was sensitive and he did not participate in wars like Maximus did, but he was still Ceasers son! He should become the next Emperor, not some general like.. like Maximus!

„Father..“

Commodus was.. broken. Walking out of his Father‘s tent at the Germanian border where war just ended and Maximus led everyone to success. Truly a joyful thing, no?

Commodus had tears pricking in his eyes. A pathetic sight for such honorful man. He wiped his nose, storming into the tent he shared with his sister Lucilla, and you, his wife. The woman who always.. ALWAYS.. was there for him. He stormed past, rushing to the secluded area where he and you slept, ugly sobs echoing through.

„S-stupid, stupid Maximus! He ruins my dreams! Do you hear m-me?!“

He said weakly, pacing through the area, his teary eyes fixating on you, his heavy breaths calming for a second.

„M-my dear.. I d-don‘t know w-why he hates me… w-why?!“