Chapter Text
When the commander of the Praetorian Guard received orders, he followed them to the letter. Was the mission completed and was it done correctly; there was no grey area. Having thought on that, Lucius realised most orders were straightforward. Persuading one of the strongest, most bull-headed women in the Mojave to marry him most definitely was not. How did one marry? Well, in the Legion, one chose a woman he liked the look of and that was that. Diana was not so easily controlled. Caesar knew this, which was the reason, Lucius suspected, he had asked them to let the Courier have the final say. Make it seem like her choice while she became a little more obedient each day.
He did not know if Diana could ever love him, but carrying out Caesar's will would be far easier if she did. More tolerance, an eagerness to please, to receive his affections in return. Lucius was almost twice her age, although he considered his experience an advantage. He was a well-learned man, having read many volumes in his Lord's library and others that told of Ancient Rome and its colonies. There was one story in particular that stood out now more than ever.
How had Mark Antony won the adoration of Queen Cleopatra? He had been bold, unafraid of her temper and above all, devoted to her. Lucius could not deny Diana retained more beauty than most profligates; she kept her hair, orange like the Mojave dust, long and sleek. Pretty eyelashes and soft pink lips and cheeks were not often seen amongst the slaves. Undeniably feminine, yet stronger than most Legion men, a combination of curves and defined muscle worked in her favour. Lucius would not let this opportunity pass him by.
Rather than bestowing such trivial things as gifts or engaging in idle conversation, Lucius would set himself apart from the rest by helping her improve her combat skills. He'd show her how to better defend herself, a show of affection that Diana would likely appreciate. He wanted her to stay alive and hopefully, she would take note of it when choosing her husband. Although the Courier was far from simple, she responded well to those who cared. Lucius often saw the disdain with which she addressed the scorning Lucullus, then the smile as she spoke to Siri. She treated others as they treated her and he mindful of that as he waited for her.
Diana often trained at the Fort. The practice dummies were well-used and it was as much a warning to the Legionaries, a show of her undeniable skill, as well as improving her abilities. He made it seem like coincidence that he found her there after breakfast, as though he didn't know her routine. He spent more time observing the Courier than she knew.
"I've a proposition, if you're interested," Lucius said.
Diana paused, turning to face him having already battered one of the dummies. She was a little red faced in the heat, cheeks flaring as a few strands of her usually silky hair stuck to her forehead.
"Alright, I'm listening," she said.
A good start, by all accounts.
"I'd like to teach you the Praetorian throw," he offered. "I believe you are sufficiently skilled to execute it properly."
Diana nodded slowly. "Alright. What do you want in return?"
"I was hoping you'd take a walk with me down by the lake," he replied, "so that I might get to know you a little better." Her brows lifted in mild, pleasant surprise.
"Sounds good," she said. "A nice change. So, shall we get to it?"
The move was probably more complex than others she had learned, but once Lucius covered the basics, she began to pick it up quickly. With each attempt, she came just a little closer. She would move, Lucius would correct her stance or her technique, then she would make another attempt. Again, she swung for the dummy and he instructed her - a little further left, hands raised higher.
After about an hour or so, he was satisfied with her progress, so Diana took a long drink from her hip flask and followed him down to the Southern shores of Lake Mead. The peace by the waterside felt a world away from the bustling camp, the sun casting a glistening beam across the water that lapped softly against the sand.
"The Lake is lovely at this time of day," Diana said, breathing in the smell of wet earth.
"It recently occurred to me that we know so little about you," Lucius began. "You have always been skilled in combat, although you've never mentioned where you learned, or where you came from."
Diana sighed and he saw a tinge of sadness in her eyes. "I don't really remember anything from before Benny shot me," she said, rubbing the scar at her temple. "All I could remember was my name and that I came from somewhere in the East. I knew I could fight, but I've learned a lot from the Mojave," she told him. "Although not always in the nicest of ways..."
"I see," the Commander said. "For what it's worth, your service for the Legion has been exemplary. Not even our finest could set in motion the chain of events that you did."
She shrugged and said; "I just set my mind to something, then I do it. No use sitting around and waiting for the chip to come back to me."
"Your determination is admirable," Lucius replied gazing out across the water. "When we move into California, I expect we will have further need of your talents."
The pair spent a good half-an-hour by the lake, discussing all manner of things from the victory at Hoover to the future of the Legion to each other, tales of accomplishments colouring the conversation. Eventually, Lucius bid her farewell to return to his duties. Diana smiled when they parted and, with a smug sense of satisfaction, he knew he could still contend for her hand. Lanius had played her need for bloodshed. Antony had wasted his time with a finite gift. Lucius had shown that he respected her, saw her not as another woman with a collar around her neck, but as a soldier.
She would take it well. Lucius was certain of it.