Steve

9 2 0
                                    

Tw: Sickness, death mention, implied PTSD/trauma

Steve Rogers was terrified.

When Reyna Avila Ramírez-Arellano, the Praetor of the Twelfth Legion and the single most intimidating person Steve had ever met, wanted to talk to you in private, it meant one of two things: she was banishing you from the legion, or she was sentencing you to a slow and painful death.

Steve wasn't sure which one he'd prefer.

One year ago, on July 4, which just so happened to be Independence Day and Steve's birthday, he and his cohort had fought a particularly intense battle against some drakons who seemed to be going through a very difficult identity crisis. They'd all been pretty much doomed, but Steve's last-minute battle strategy had saved their asses and led them to victory. After the fight was over, the Legionnaires had raised Steve on their shields and named him praetor.

Reyna had draped the purple Praetor's cloak over his shoulders and pinned the medallions to his shirt. Everything had been perfect.

But even after a little more than a year of working with her, Reyna still terrified him.

It wasn't even her intention to be intimidating. She just was.

Like her sister Hylla, Reyna carried herself with an air of regalness and authority that was absent in most people. The way she spoke, the intelligence in her dark eyes, the dagger that always seemed to be strapped to her waist, and the two incredibly threatening metal dogs that followed her around all seemed to say 'I could brutally murder you and your dead body would thank me.'

Steve walked into the room and sat down beside Reyna. Her gold and silver dogs, Aurum and Argentum, were stationed on opposite sides of her chair. They regarded him with their cold ruby eyes.

It was common knowledge in the camp that they could sense whether or not someone was lying. Steve wasn't sure if that was true or not. He wasn't dumb enough to lie to Reyna.

"I didn't do it," Steve said automatically.

Reyna laughed. "Why do you assume I'm mad every time I talk to you in private?"

"Because you're scary," Steve said, cracking a smile.

Reyna mirrored his smile. Steve could tell she was tired. Nobody else would have been able to tell, but Steve knew her well enough to know that she probably hadn't slept well last night.

"Are you alright?" Steve asked. "You look tired."

"I didn't sleep at all last night," Reyna admitted. "Octavian woke me up in the middle of the night."

Steve wasn't a particularly spiritual person, but Octavian definitely sent him bad vibes. He was about to make a joke, but one look at Reyna's expression told him she was serious.

"What did he tell you?" Steve asked.

Reyna's expression shuttered, the way it did when they ever bordered on a touchy subject. Something behind her dark eyes flickered, looking almost as if her brain was boarding itself up in preparation for a hurricane, and she dropped her face in her hands. When she lifted it to meet Steve's eyes with her own again, she sighed. "He received a prophecy last night."

"From his augaries."

She shook her head. "He said he was sleeping and a nightmare woke him up. When he burst into my bedroom, he was shaking so much it looked like he was having a seizure. Then he said some Voice in his head had recited a prophecy. I've never heard anything like it before. At first I thought it was some more of Octavian's bullshit, but he seemed legitimately freaked out. I've never seen him so... defenceless before. None of the condescending attitude or arrogance. I tried to get him to go back to sleep, but he was too afraid of the darkness. I ended up walking around New Rome with him to calm him down."

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