Little Boots 1.1

"The naming culture of the Roman Empire is a bit complicated, to say the least…”

Their naming convention varied between boys and girls—a reflection of the inequality in a society that favored males.

That was simply how things were back then. 

But that didn't mean that most women accepted it without resistance.

Of course not.

But we’ll leave that discussion for another day.

For now, let us start again.

In the Roman Empire, when a baby boy was born, he was given a praenomen, or birth name.

If the boy was born into a noble or Imperial family—a nomen, or family name was added—marking which clan he belonged.

And the last was the cognomen—the identifier of his family branch.

Together, these three were referred to as the tria nomina.

These names were added to emulate past predecessors, in the hopes that these children—specifically the boys—would grow to mirror the same respect and power their ancestors once held.

This naming practice also applied even in cases of adoption into a new family.

And in Rome, adoption was quite common.

In contrast, girls typically received only one personal name—

It was often a feminized version of the family name or one reflecting their family’s heritage.

It wasn’t particularly creative.

Unless they were adopted or married into a new family, girls rarely received additional names.

"Then came the Julio-Claudian dynasty…”

There were ten gentes—ten top-tier families in Roman nobility—that held a significant amount of power and influence. 

They shaped Roman politics, society, and culture through their complex web of alliances, rivalries, intermarriages, and competitions for status.

Among them stood the Julio-Claudian dynasty.

Two already powerful families—

The Julii and Claudii—who merged through marriage to form one formidable lineage.

This union produced the first Roman Emperor—the princeps—who later adopted his successor—

A man from the same family who now rules the empire in 16 AD.

The Julio-Claudian dynasty—the reigning gens family, also known as the Imperial Family—had held enormous control since the empire’s founding.

And their power, as of yet, had no sign of diminishing.

"And in this set-up, the future third Emperor of the Roman Empire, Gaius Germanicus, was born…”

He would later be known as Gaius Julius Caesar Germanicus.

The two additional names came from his adoption into the Julio-Claudian dynasty via his grandfather.

Gaius was his praenomen, Julius Caesar was his nomen, and Germanicus was his cognomen.

With this, he became a part of the Imperial Family—an adoptive grandson of the current reigning Emperor.

And in the future, another name would be added when he rises to the throne.

A name especially reserved for those who held supreme power.

But that was a story for another time.

For now, he was Gaius Julius Caesar Germanicus—

The third son of the famous Roman General—Germanicus—who at that time was waging a revenge campaign for Rome in Germania.

**

Vetera Castrum (Roman Legions’ military camp in Germania, since 12 BC). 

First week of November, 16 AD.

The autumn’s chilly wind stung little Gaius’ cheeks as he marched beside his mother.

Unlike him—whose tiny boots kicked up dust with every step on the road—Agrippina held her head high, moving like a queen surveying her domain.

She was composed, almost regal, her noble blood evident in her every gesture.

Born Vipsania Julia Agrippina, she was a petite woman of striking beauty and unshakable resolve.

Her lineage alone invoked awe and respect.

Her father, Marcus Vipsanius Agrippa, had been the most trusted advisor—and very close friend—of the princeps.

And her mother?

Julia the Elder.

The only daughter of the revered first Emperor of Rome—making Agrippina his direct granddaughter.

Or to put it simply, a Roman princess.

Her long, near-white blond hair was always immaculately styled, framing sharp hazel eyes that rarely held warmth.

But her elegance could be deceiving.

Beneath her refined beauty was a woman of intense loyalty—especially to her family.

She was the embodiment of the Roman ideal of motherhood, admired across the empire not only for her virtues but also her unwavering commitment to her husband, Germanicus Julius Caesar—cheered and adored by the people.

Agrippina braved the long, arduous journey to Germania many times before, always at Germanicus' request.

This visit was no different.

A week before Gaius’ birthday—once everything was prepared—she left their domus, entrusting her other children to her mother-in-law.

The caravan was small and light, she preferred it that way.

It consisted only of Agrippina and her youngest son, with a few selected slaves and a handful of Praetorian guards, courtesy of her mother-in-law and father.

Fortunately, they encountered no danger, and their small group allowed them to travel swiftly.

And now, her gaze swept across the camp, taking in the soldiers and the sprawling fortifications, while Gaius stumbled along, trying to keep pace.

The scratchy fabric of his miniature legionary outfit made his skin itch, but he didn’t complain.

He didn’t like it, not one bit—but he knew it would please his father.

His mother told him so.

He was only four.

His birthday had already passed during their long, tiring journey from Rome to here—the north.

‘The summer is gone, my birthday also, now it's… it’s autumn,’ he grumbled inwardly.

‘It’s sooo long.’

He stole a peep at his mother, worried she might notice his sulking.

When her focus remained elsewhere, he breathed a sigh of relief.

He glanced around, taking in the vast and unfamiliar world of his father’s camp.

‘Big brother called it a-a fort… fortresh.’

He looked up at the high wooden walls, awed and intimidated.

‘It looks like a small city surrounded by trees and… and big walls!’

His first brother also told him that many, many soldiers lived here—and that it was a very, very important place.

Gaius frowned in thought, he straightened his fingers one by one, counting each, but gave up with a huff once the numbers ran out.

As they moved through the bustling military camp, a steady clang of metal and the thick scent of burning wood filled his senses.

It was accompanied by the growing murmur of voices, animals’ bawking and mooing, making his little head spin.

‘Soldiers and their families were everywhere, and chickens!’ he noted, his eyes widening as his young body trembled in the cold weather.

His little boots continued to trudge on the stony pavement.

As they neared his father’s barracks, a heavy mix of smoke, food and sweat grew stronger, making his stomach rumble and his mouth water.

It mingled with the crisp air.

The endless sound of people chatting and soldiers training filled his eyes and ears.

Soldiers bustled past him and his mother.

Their faces softened with recognition.

“It’s the general’s son and wife!”

Some even offered to escort them to where his father was.

Some greeted them with nods, others simply stared.

Some ruffled his curly blond hair.

Once they stood outside Germanicus’ tent, Agrippina suddenly crouched down.

She adjusted her son’s clothes and hair.

“You have to look perfect,” she murmured almost to herself, smoothing a wrinkle from his tiny uniform.

Her voice was soft, but held an edge of steel.

“They need to see who you are… worthy of being his son…”

She brushed an imaginary speck of dust then stared at him intently, as if she was burning the words in his mind.

“Remember this, Gaius.”

He shivered at the seriousness of his mother’s face, that he involuntary gulp.

“You are General Germanicus’ son.”

He nodded, eager to escape her knowing gaze.

She gave him a final once-over and smiled proudly.

“Let’s go greet him…”

**

INDEX:

Gentes(plural)/Gens(singular)—Noblest family of the nobility

Princeps—First citizen, title of the Emperor

Domus—Roman house

Vetera Castrum/Castrum—Roman Legion military camp/Camp