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"Veritas nunquam perit."

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—•—

"That was exhausting. And you do this, what, everyday?"

The newly crowned emperor, Dream, walked beside Emperor George as they exited a large building. He posed the question in disbelief, and George snorted in amusement.

"Not everyday, but often, yes." George replied, squinting against the sunlight that was streaming onto Rome like a golden spotlight.

The sun was setting, sparking the large building behind them and the bricks beneath their feet, ablaze in the colours of the evening; glowing a soft gold.

"You willingly go to the senate and oversee that on a regular basis?" Dream grimaced, sliding his hand into George's.

George nodded, allowing his husband to take his hand. "I do. You'll get used to it, don't worry."

"It was literally just a bunch of old men arguing with each other."

"Mhm."

"I mean, come on, it's boring! Also, where are the women?"

"Women aren't allowed in the senate, Dream."

Dream raised his brows. "Why not?"

George shrugged. "I don't know. That's just how it's always been."

"That's lame," Dream helped George into the awaiting litter, clambering in afterwards. "Why can't you change the rules?"

"I suppose I could do that," George said as the litter was picked off of the ground and the guards carrying it began to walk. "But it wouldn't go down too well with the men in the senate."

"Pfft, fuck those old bastards. They're gonna die soon anyway. I think allowing woman into the senate will be great!"

"Dream," George hissed, lowering his voice. "You can't say that out loud."

"What?" Dream narrowed his eyes in confusion. "Fuck?"

"Well, no, I mean the part about woman in the senate," George pinched the bridge of his nose as the litter rocked slightly. "We don't want another assassination attempt on our hands, do we?"

Dream was silent for a moment, eyes wandering away from George's face and beyond the thin curtain that veiled the litter. He watched, through a thin gap in the fabric, the streets of Rome pass by, cobbled and cracked and sprinkled with golden granules of dust.

"To be honest," Dream finally spoke. "Someone has only tried to assassinate me once."

"Yessss... and how long have you been the emperors consort?"

"Like, a month."

George laughed. "See—?"

"—It's not like he was successful," Dream interrupted, running his thumb over George's knuckles where their hands were conjoined. "Also, by the look of the census, it seems that majority of the Roman public actually like me."

George hummed skeptically, eyeing Dream as the litter continued to make its way through the winding streets of Rome. He looked at the blond, and the blond looked back at him.

"I still can't believe you did that."

"Did what?"

"Killed him."

"Oh," Dream laughed. "Yeah. I almost forgot about that. But, in my defence, he did try to assassinate me first, and I've never had anyone attempt to assassinate me before, so I think I got a bit excited."

"You used to be a gladiator. A lot of people have tried to kill you."

"That's different."

"Okay... but you stabbed him sixty-three times. With a fork."

"Yes."

"You didn't—,"

"How did you know I stabbed him sixty-three times? Did you count or something?" Dream asked, and George shook his head.

"Uh, no. But the doctors did."

"The doc—?" Dream spluttered. "THE DOCTORS COUNTED EVERY SINGLE STAB WOUND!?"

—•—

Later that night, George lounged against his headboard, tucked under the smooth covers of his large bed. Freshly bathed, his skin and hair glistened with lavender-scented cleanliness.

He ran his fingers through Dream's hair; the ex-gladiator resting his head on George's lap. Dream closed his eyes, keening into George's gentle touch, reaching his own hand down to rest on George's knee.

"George?"

"Hmm?"

"As emperor... er, well, as the emperors consort, am I allowed to make proposals for new laws?"

"Of course," George replied. "You are my closest confidant."

"Okay, well, I was wondering if I could propose a new law?" Dream asked, twisting his head so that he could look into George's eyes, but George could still run his fingers through the blond's hair.

"What is it?" George asked softly.

"I know that, logically, you could never ban gladiator fights, or the games, and stuff like that," Dream said. "But, what if I were to propose a ban on the imperial-ordered military pillaging of villages?"

George watched Dream with kind eyes as he continued.

"You know, like banning Rome's armies from destroying villages and kidnapping people to be sold... especially young boys being sold into the gladiatorial trade."

After a small moment of silence, George bent down to place a kiss on Dream's forehead.

"We can do that," he said. "We can make that a law if you wish."

"Really?" Dream sat up, now out of George's lap.

George nodded. "Of course. I know this is an important issue to you—,"

George could barely finish his sentence before Dream quite literally leaped forward, taking his husbands face into his hands and slamming their mouths together.

George went to kiss back but, before he could, Dream pulled away, smiling.

"Thank you." He whispered, kissing George again.

This time, George did have time to register, and kissed Dream back, winding his arms around the ex-gladiators shoulders, pulling away from the headboard and slinking back into the plush mattress.

"I adore you." Dream muttered, head now buried in the crook of George's neck as he placed kisses to the sensitive skin.

—•—

"You know..." George began, rubbing at one of the various red splotches decorating his neck. "The Roman Empire will expect the emperor to produce an heir soon after marriage."

Dream, with a towel hung low on his hips, leaned his shoulder against the doorframe of the bathroom, arms crossed over his chest.

"We've been 'married' for literally a month."

"Mhm," George murmured, slightly distracted by the pearls of water running down Dream's naked chest. "And neither of us are pregnant yet."

"Why do you think that is?" Dream asked sarcastically, and George rolled his eyes, laughing.

"I'm joking, Dream," he stated. "But, you are my consort, so if either of us were to get pregnant, it should technically be you."

Dream scoffed, turning to walk into the bathroom once again, but not before adding: "Hell no. I'm not the one getting fucked up the a—,"

"—WHY?!" George scowled. "Why do you have to make everything inappropriate?!"

A few minutes later, Dream came back with his lower half dressed, but his chest and abdomen bare of any clothing. He flopped down onto the bed, snuggling himself up to George.

As Dream spoke, George ran his fingers gently over the scars that trailed over the ex-fighters abdomen. "Do you want an heir?"

"Want? Yes. Need? Also yes," George murmured. "If I don't, who's going to succeed me and take their place on the Roman throne?"

"True..." Dreams abdomen erupted in goosebumps as George continued to trail his fingers delicately over the marred flesh. "But how do you suppose the two of us are meant produce an heir?"

"Hmm, good point."

Noticing his husbands suddenly disheartened state, Dream smacked George's hand away from his abdomen and rolled over. George groaned in annoyance as Dream rolled his entire body on top of George, wrapping his arms around the now significantly irked emperor.

"Don't worry," Dream wrapped himself around George like a small child. "One day, you'll have an heir to the throne. But, for now, the only person that deserves all of your attention is me."

George couldn't help but laugh, sliding his arms around Dream, returning the hug with as much comfort and warmth as he could manage.

And that's how the pair stayed long into the night; wrapped lovingly within each other's arms, with only the molten glow of the moons pale face illuminating the room.

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Hey homies, this is an authors note!

UGH SO CUTE <333

This is some of the fluffiest shit I've written in a while lmao I hope it's okay

This chapters question/statement: tell me about something you love, and why you love it.

Until next time,

Blue :)