Diving Deep (requests closed)

Yandere!Emperor Nero (Hetalia) - Play For Me

It was only a few short minutes later that a figure came in, hidden completely behind layers of cloth. Quietly, the person walked to the curtain and drew it aside just long enough to pass through to the waiting instrument, lifting it gently before sitting down.

As the curtain once more grew still, the men could hear the gentle sound of the string music echo softly about the room. For nearly an hour, the men listened in quiet awe as the musician seemed to almost make the cithara cry at times. Finally the sound slow grew into silence, the hidden musician coming out from the curtain and walking towards the doorway out of the room.

"Wait! Please tell me, if we come back again would you play for us once more?" The young blonde almost begged, eyes filled with wonder from the sounds he had heard.

Stopping only long enough to nod swiftly, the figure quickly left the room.

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Over the next few weeks the golden-haired man, soon known as Nero by the (h/c)-haired lady, became a well-known regular guest of the bath-house in the evenings. Sometimes he would bring his friends, but as time passed he began coming alone more and more often. He would always request a private bath, the music of the cithara soothing him as he enjoyed the fresh fruit provided by the other women working each night.

The one thing he had noticed, if the (h/c)-haired girl was not there, the music of the cithara was not available, only the other two instruments. And neither would be played by the veiled figure who played the cithara's haunting music, the memories of the sound often lulling him to sleep at night.

One night, when he gently confronted the quiet young lady about whether she was the musician or not, she shakily nodded her head at him. After that, he spoke to the Master of the bath- house and between the two men, the young lady was soon sold to the Emperor. After all, as a slave she had no right to say no.

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Each morning my day would begin by waking my new Master. Through the day, I would stay beside him, ready to play either the panpipes or the lyre for his pleasure while others listened quietly. In the evenings, I would sit with the cithara, that now only he was allowed to hear me play.

He told me over and over that the sound of me playing soothed his heart and mind, eased the pressures he felt from ruling a nation. He said that he cherished the way I was able to make the strings cry out for him. As he was my Master now, as well as being my Emperor, I had no ability to refuse him.

I didn't know if I could trust him when he said he would free me after a year of service, but I couldn't help feeling a spark of hope grow in my heart. Perhaps, just perhaps, I could one day be counted among the many freed slaves that walked the streets of Rome.

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Summer gradually changed to Autumn as the leaves turned color, Autumn into Winter as peoples clothing changed to warmer fabrics, Winter to Spring with new leaves and flowers filling the air with their fragrance and still I played music I played the cithara each evening.

Each season that passed, I felt something else changing, something deep within myself. I could feel it every time I looked at my Master, Emperor Nero. I felt it whenever I knew he was looking at me, watching me as I played music or as I sat quietly waiting for him. After a while, I could feel it all the time, causing my heart to race whenever he was nearby. I feared him.

As Spring slowly came to an end, I began to dread the coming Summer, for I knew he would not free me. And if he did, it would only be in name. He would never let me go, not after what he'd done. No matter now many times he told me it was because he loved me, needed me to be his, to have me love him back... I knew that whatever he felt was far darker than anything that could be labeled so gently as love.  He'd become so possessive that even during the day I was now only allowed to play if nobody else was around.

By the time Summer came and he was due to set me free, the cithara no longer cried in joy when I played for him. Instead, it wept sorrowfully each evening the tears that my body could no longer produce. He begged me to forgive him, that he'd gone crazy thinking I would leave him for another man if one caught the attention of my (e/c) eyes.

So to make sure that never happened, he'd blinded me, taken my sight away forever. It was only the many years of playing allowing me to continue producing the painfully sweet sounds of the cithara. But no matter how sweet the music was, even young Nero could hear the bitter sorrow that now resided within me filling the air as I played. I was now only allowed to play if nobody else was around.

And each night as he held me gently in his possessive arms, he promised he would never forgive himself the sin he had committed against me, not until the day I forgave him. That didn't stop him from taking me as his, saying that even if I should never forgive him, he would still love me and keep me beside him.

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Even years later, during the day I would sit quietly, my face covered by a simple veil of cloth as I played upon the lyre. When evening fell, I would hold the cithara in my lap as I sat upon a cushion and I would play for him, the music filling the air with sorrow as the golden-haired Nero sat behind me and ran gentle fingers through my hair.

"My lovely (y/n). I'm so lucky to have met you. Every day I thank the Gods that I found you. I love you. I'll always love you... Always." Trembling, I felt his arms slowly reach around me as he drew me closer to his chest and whispered those dreadful words in my ear.