The Dollmaker's Masterpiece

Viola sat impassive as the fight below raged on. She gritted her teeth as the man who wielded fire fell when the shape shifter he faced broke through his defenses, and took a swipe with deadly claws at his chest. She morphed back into a human, her foot at his neck. There was a chant as people called for the mutant’s death. All looked to Caesar, Draco, who sat in his gilded throne at the forefront of the action. Viola looked too, curious to see his response. Draco turned down his thumb, and the crowd groaned. But the shape shifting mutant looked relieved as soldiers came out, and dragged the bleeding man away. The gates lifted, and everyone cheered or held their breath when they saw the next fighter against the undefeated shape shifter.

Juno held a hand over her eyes, the sun too bright for her eyes used to the dim light of the Coliseum dungeon. The shape shifter hissed when she saw Juno. Juno paled slightly. Viola wondered their connection when a flash of movement caught her eye. She turned her head to see a woman she recognized walking towards the Caesar’s throne, holding a plate of grapes. Thalia. Right on time.

Viola hopped up in her seat, and ran for the platform where only the senior senators were allowed. She ducked under the guard’s spears as they shouted, and chased after her. But she kept going. She made it in time to knock the grapes away from Draco’s outstretched hands, and to catch Thalia’s hand as the doll drew a concealed knife. That’s when the guards realized what was happening, and grabbed Thalia as Viola was thrown to the ground. Viola remained there, all too aware of the silence of the stadium. She picked herself up, pretending fatigue, “She’s…a doll…I could see…the hole…”

She couldn’t really, of course, Thalia had had a skin graft over it. Viola just needed a reason for suspecting Thalia. Viola hid the olive skin graft in her sleeve. The guards glanced at each other as they went to handcuff Thalia. Thalia’s eyes hovered on Viola, and Viola could read the massage there. So, she remained as unsurprised as she was from the beginning when Thalia broke away from the guards, grabbing one’s sword. And Viola jumped between her and Draco, the swing meant for Draco’s neck slicing through her arm instead. She cried out in pain as Thalia was tackled to the ground and forcibly chained.
Viola gasped for air, holding her injured arm as hands touched her, and someone kneeled beside her. “Are you alright?”

Viola looked up, straight into Draco’s brown eyes. He looked concerned, as well as grateful, and Viola acted in the way she knew the other court ladies would. She laughed a nervous laugh, and looked away, “Yes, Caesar, I am fine. “

Draco’s eyes hovered on her for a moment before he stood, and threw out his hands, “The games are canceled!”

Viola pushed herself up, feeling Juno’s eyes on her, even as the mutant was led back into the keeps. And she felt sick as she recognized gratitude coming from the poor woman she had incarcerated. Draco turned to Viola again, taking the hand of her uninjured arm, “What is your name?”

She thinly smiled as the Caesar of Empirical Rome beckoned forth his healers to attend her. “Viola, sire, Viola Marcus.”