The air in the imperial palace was thick with the scent of pine, mulled wine, and the faintest hint of burning candles. The halls were adorned with opulent decorations, gold and crimson ribbons woven together in delicate harmony. It was the first Christmas that the imperial court had ever experienced in such a personal way-there were no grand displays for the people, no public spectacles; it was a quieter, more intimate affair, orchestrated by the emperor himself.

You had been attending the palace's celebrations for days now, surrounded by the pomp and circumstance of Rome's elite. Yet, despite all the luxury, something had always been missing. (Commodus.)

The emperor, your husband in name only, had kept his distance from you, his presence a distant shadow that loomed in the your life. At first, you hadn't minded. After all, he was the ruler of the known world - a man with too much power to waste on trivial matters like affection. But over time, the coldness in his eyes had begun to haunt you. His occasional glances across the room, the rare, fleeting moments where his gaze would linger on you - all of it had begun to stir something deep inside. Longing.

And the mistletoe that had been hung in the central courtyard, where the grand feast was held, was a reminder of something you both had never acted on. The tradition had been practiced by courtiers with jest and playfulness, but for you and Commodus, it had become something far more personal. You could feel the tension between you, like a string pulled too tight - so close, yet so far apart.

--

The palace had been buzzing with excitement as the guests arrived, their voices carrying through the corridors. You, dressed in a flowing gown of deep emerald that caught the light of the candles, made your way to the grand hall where the celebrations were to continue. Your heart fluttered with an unspoken anticipation, and you found yourself stealing glances toward the far corner of the room, where Commodus stood, holding court.

He was a sight to behold, regal in every sense of the word. His imperial purple robes billowed as he moved, and the golden laurel crown sat proudly atop his dark, messy hair. His eyes were sharp, scanning the room with cold precision, but when they landed on you, there was something different - something almost primal, burning with an intensity that sent a shiver through your spine.

You tried to ignore the fluttering in your chest as you mingled with the other guests, but Commodus never left your thoughts. You could feel him watching you from across the room, his gaze heavy, possessive, like a force you couldn't escape.

As the evening wore on, the air grew warmer, and the laughter of the courtiers filled the space. You found yourself beneath the mistletoe, standing with your back to Commodus, oblivious to his approach - or so you thought.

--

A warm, firm hand brushed against your shoulder, and you turned, startled. His presence was magnetic, his scent of sandalwood and musk filling your senses as he stood before you, his gaze locked onto yours. There was no trace of the cold, calculating emperor in his eyes now. There was only something raw, something deeply hungry - a longing that mirrored your own.

"Quite the festive occasion, isn't it?" Commodus said softly, his voice low and smooth, as he stepped closer. His words, usually so commanding, were now laced with something more intimate, more dangerous.

You swallowed, trying to steady your breath. "It is," you replied, your heart racing as you glanced at the mistletoe above you, then back at him. You couldn't help but notice the way his eyes flickered to it too, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips - but not a playful smile. No, this was darker.

"Seems that we are under the mistletoe," he murmured, taking another slow step toward you, closing the distance between you with a deliberate grace. His hand reached out to touch your cheek, his fingertips brushing the skin lightly, almost as if he were testing the waters. "Perhaps it's time to... honor the tradition?"

You were frozen in place, the space between you narrowing, the tension growing unbearable. For months, you had tried to ignore the growing connection between you - the longing, the subtle touches, the stolen glances. But now, with the mistletoe hanging above you, with Commodus standing so close, there was no denying the pull any longer.

"Commodus..." Your voice was a whisper, barely audible over the rising hum of the crowd around you.

His eyes darkened, and the grip on your chin tightened ever so slightly. "You think I don't know what you want? What we both want?" His voice was a low growl now, the emperor's authority replaced by a desperate hunger, a hunger he had concealed for far too long.

Without waiting for an answer, Commodus leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. "I've waited for this moment long enough. And I won't wait any longer."

Before you could react, he kissed you - soft at first, a slow, searching kiss that tasted of desire and promises unspoken. Your body seemed to melt into his, your hands resting against his chest, your heart pounding in your ears. He pulled back just enough to gaze into your eyes, his breath ragged, as if he, too, had been holding himself back for too long.

"I've waited for months, you know," he said, his lips curling into a small, self-satisfied smile. "And now that you're here..." His fingers traced the line of your jaw, his gaze never leaving yours. "Now that I have you, I won't let you go."

The possessiveness in his voice sent a jolt of excitement through you, a mix of surprise and anticipation. It wasn't just the kiss, or the gifts exchanged, or the festivities around you. It was the feeling that you were finally seen by him. Finally wanted, not just as the empress by title, but as you - the woman he had silently longed for.

You cupped his face, your thumb brushing against his lips as you smiled softly, an unspoken understanding between you. "I never thought you'd give in," you teased, your voice breathless.

"I always get what I want," Commodus replied with a smirk, his voice rich with a combination of arrogance and tenderness that only he could pull off.

You chuckled softly, your laughter echoing in the warmth of the room. "Well, I'm certainly not going to make it easy for you."

He chuckled darkly, a sound that resonated deep within his chest. "I don't want it to be easy. I want it to be ours." His hand slid to the small of your back, pulling you in closer, his lips finding yours once again - this time with more urgency, more hunger. The kiss deepened, and for the first time in what felt like ages, everything around you seemed to disappear. The court, the lavish palace, the crown - none of it mattered anymore.

It was just the two of you, at last.

--

As the kiss ended, Commodus kept you close, his arms around you, his chest rising and falling with each breath. His lips were still lightly brushing your temple, and his voice was soft, almost reverent.

"Now that we're finally... together," he whispered, "I promise you, I will not let anyone or anything come between us. You're mine now."

You smiled, the warmth of his words settling over you like a comforting blanket. For so long, you had waited for this - the kiss, the connection, the certainty of knowing where you stood with him. And now that it had happened, you felt something inside you bloom - something that told you this was just the beginning.

"You're mine too," you replied softly, your voice steady and certain.

And as the music of the Christmas feast continued in the background, the two of you stood beneath the mistletoe, your lips touching once more, sealing the unspoken promise that no matter how long it took, you had finally found each other