The Calends of January

[Lady_Mornington]

(Semi-reserved for Esmeralda Tate, Magbeam, Lady Aria and Randolph)

These were auspicious times.

Aurelia Marcia smiled to herself as she sat back on the couch, nodding as one of the girls handed her a cup of honey water. Fortuna had smiled on all of them, and there were no signs that the favoured ones were to lose their blessing. The tides had been changing, and instead of acting like mere driftwood, the Marcia Nervae had done what any prudent person would, namely to hoist sail and range themselves with Caesar.

It was prudent a choice; Gaius Julius Caesar had after all defeated and subdued the troublesome tribes of Gaul and finally brought the region under the standard of Rome. The spoils sent back to amuse the masses of the capital had served it's purpose, elevating Caesar to a position that surpassed the title of Consul of Rome. The Plebs spoke his name with reverence,

As if referring to a King.

Of course the noblity squirmed at this, whispering about illegalities and the prospect that he would become a Tyrant. That he would put an end to the Republic and make real on the implied suggestions. It had been more than half a millennium since Rome last had a king, and like any other Roman, Aurelia Marcia had been brought up to detest the very idea. But seeing as the power was restricted to a few noble families, that Roman citizens were being forced out of unemployment by the ever increasing population of slaves had caused even the firm support for the Consul Gnaeus Pompey Magnus to wither among the Plebs to be reduced It took no great political skills to notice that the calls for Caesar to put the Republic right were heard all the more loud.

Yes it had been prudent a decision to sidle with Caesar and his lieutenant, the ever-present General Mark Antony. It did help of course that her husband, Gaius Marcius Nerva, Legate of the VIII Legion was one of Antony's closest confidants.

The Marcia Nervae were Senatorial, rich of course thanks to her father in law's sensible take on business and political manouverings. Thus it was only to be expected that Gaius would be amply rewarded. A position as Aedile or perhaps even as a Praetor?.

Aurelia Marcia looked up and nodded regally, yes it was nothing wrong with using such terms, as her daughters walked into the room and stood by her couch. Marcia Nervonis, her oldest, looking straight at her. Her green eyes mirroring those of Aurelia Marcia's and the proud posture cut from the same cloth as her father's. She smiled and inclined her head just a fraction in recognition of her firstborn's immaculate poise and grace.

Venus and Juno both be praised for her oldest, she thought as she glanced at her younger daughter. Aurelilla Nervonis gave a nervous smile in return before resuming to gaze at the marble floor. The girl was sweet, no doubt about that, and she would make an excellent wife come the day. Yet somehow Aurelia had expected more from her.

Oh well there was no sense in worrying about that now, nor chiding neither herself nor the girl for her shortcomings. Hadn't Marcellus himself pointed out that whatever the failings of his youngest may be, she was still of them both and as such it was their duty to treasure and protect her.

Thus Aurelia forced a smile to briefly flutter across her lips as she looked at her daughters.

"Now girls you know it's a very special night. Your father will come home and I want you, no expect you both to behave impeccably. You will lend him honour by behaving in a way that befits his station is that understood?"

She nodded and received the nods from her daughters, then turned her mind to other things. It had been almost two years since she last saw her husband and if she were to be honest she was just a bit nervous about seeing him again.

War could change a man. And so could ambition.

 

[magbeam]

Gaius Marcius Nerva

"Well, dip me in Ostian bilge water. There they are. The Seven Sacred Hills. Never thought I'd see them from the head of an invading army. Even in these days."

"An invading army?" Gaius Julius Caesar answered to Marcus Antonius from the seat of his favorite horse, the appropriately-named Toes. "Marcus, your thirst for adventure and thuggery has gotten the better of your reason yet again, I believe. I am no Sulla, certainly no king. I profess to be nothing more than my rightful position as proconsul. I aim not to conquer the Republic but to save it from the optimates, to restore the proper position of the people, to answer the grave insults to my dignitas and gravitas that Pompeius and the dogs who flock to him have suffered me."

"Save it for Cicero, Caesar." Close as Antonius and Caesar were, friends, political allies, battlefield companions and even second cousins, even the younger man, like everyone else, called the general merely Caesar. An act that had helped give rise to this mess in the first place; Cato had been quick to point out that the only people who went by single names were either slaves or kings. "We're overthrowing the Senate. Ruling by the point of a sword. Suits me after all the pussyfooting with those self-righteous bastards I had to go through the past few years."

"Antonius," Caesar's voice was even, "while you know I enjoy your amusements in private, you will take care not to contradict me or presume too close of a tone with me around others. That will be more important now than before." He was quiet for a moment. "But still, it may be you have a point. Some, perhaps will see it that way. But then again, the common people are a vulgar lot. It just takes...finesse to turn a conquerer into an Alexander with them. What do you think, Nerva?"

Gaius Marcius Nerva, legate of the VII Legio and praetor of the Senate, looked up from where his eyes had been fixated on the now-visible Colline Gate. The same one that had been the last resistance to Sulla before he proclaimed himself Dictator of the Republic. "Hmm? Sorry, Caesar, Antonius. Mind's been occupied."

"On the gravity of the situation, no doubt," Caesar replied, nodding sagely. "Your piety and devotion to the Republic does not escape my notice, Gaius Marcius. The fact that you have chosen to folly me even with them says a great deal about your constitution, and you will be well rewarded for it, mark my words."

"Bugger that," Antonius said, and Gaius knew that had they not been on horses, the loud man would have tousled his hair in a rather roughly affectionate way just then. "Old Gaius here is a reliable sort. He'll follow you to Dis and back if you asked. What's bothering him is the fact that there's still a good few miles between him and his wife."

"Ah," Caesar answered, a knowing smile on his face. "I am sure that Aurelia will be more than happy to see her husband returned to her after so many years of loyal service."

"Yes, sir, thank you. I'm sure she will." A ridiculous grin came to Gaius's cheeks at Caesar's mention of his wife. He felt stupidly proud that his personal details were so well known to the imperator. Gaius knew that it wasn't any sort of specific personal attraction; Caesar went out of his way to memorize as much as possible about as many people about him as possible, with the goal just this, to charm them. Gaius knew it, and still it worked. That was another of the impossible abilities of the man before him. Antonius had spoken the truth. Gaius would follow Caesar anywhere, to Dis, to Hyperborea, even to far-off Serica, where silk was harvested from trees by yellow-skinned midgets.

Antonius, on the other hand...Gaius liked Antonius. He always had. They'd been drinking buddies since their careers in the Senate started. When Gaius had found himself in debt after his tenure as aedile - a tenure that was all the more expensive due to the heightened desires of the people that Caesar had instilled in them in his term - it had been Antonius who had brought his plight to the man himself. And all it cost him was his political allegiance and a term in Gaul, things that any rising hopeful in the Senate would have jumped at anyways. Another amazing thing: Caesar could make one thankful for being allowed to pay off your debt to him. If anyone could restore the mess Pompeius and his whorescum had caused the Republic, it would be Caesar.

But when all was said and done, Antonius, good sport and great general that he was, was still no Caesar.

The legion entered Rome through the Colline Gate with little fanfare, the City seemingly deserted. An illusion, to be sure, caused by the situation; but nevertheless, it did seem somewhat more subdued than he remembered. Worries, sewn by nothing more than Pompeian propaganda, over whether Caesar would inaugurate himself a new Sulla in a bath of blood or not. They'd see the truth soon enough.

His promises despite himself, Gaius felt nervous as he crossed the pomerium, the sacred and ancient border established by Romulus himself and which no Roman soldier under arms could cross. Pompeius and his cronies had known that they couldn't stand against Caesar, and had fled south. The army would follow him there soon enough, once the City was secured and the legions withdrawn from Gaul. Then they would smash the optimates to pieces. They deserved no better after what they had put Caesar and his men through.

But until then...Until then, once it had been ensured that the City did not resist and Caesar had been positioned at the Senate Curia, Gaius was officially on leave. Caesar would know where to find him if he was needed before the next session of the Senate. And so, it was with some nerves, admittedly, that he found himself before the gates of his domus. True, it had not been the eight years some - such as Caesar himself - had been in Gaul. But two years was still longer than any period he had ever been away from the City before in his life, twice as long even as he would have been had he merely taken a propraetorian province instead of the army command in Gaul. He looked over the house with a critical eye - it certainly didn't seem burned, or looted...

"Who's there?" a voice called out, followed suddenly by a cry of "Domine!"

"Hello, Hermes," Gaius spoke to the gate-slave as he dismounted, a legionary slave leading the animal back to the muster on Mars Field. "Finally, I'm back, though not quite in the manner I hoped. Still, one must make the best of things." He spoke more to himself as he entered the main domus, the slave closing the gate behind him. Even under fear of military dictatorship, it was not wise to leave one's house opened to the streets in Rome.

He came to a stop at the impluvium's entrance, seeing his family before him for the first time in two years. They had obviously just been informed by one of the slaves that he was there, and has just assembled. He stood, taking them in for a pregnant moment, before smiling.

"It's good to see you again, my dears. All of you. I know I'm not looking the part," he gestured down at his dusty uniform, "but once we came into the sight of the City nothing was going to stop me from coming back as soon as I could."

He stepped up to his wife, pausing just a second before taking Aurelia into his arms, kissing her deep. "Hello, love," he said finally when they broke, her still in his arms. "It...feels so good to see you again. To hold you. I missed you, every day and every night." He wanted to say more - by Jove, to do more, after two years away from a woman as beautiful and as loving as Aurelia, what husband wouldn't? But such things were not appropriate in front of the children. Two years in Gaul and breaking almost every law of treason in the Republic hadn't caused him to forget that.

"Marcia. My dove." Marcus moved to his older daughter, kissing her cheeks before hugging her, tightly but rather more chastely than with Aurelia. "Look at you! And you, Aurelilla. Not so little any more, are you?" He hugged his youngest daughter. "You've become a woman while I've been gone. All those memories outdated already...But no longer." He addressed the rest of them now.

"I've missed you all terribly, but I promise from now on, I will never be away as long as I have been. Caesar will win this war, you need not worry about that, and Caesar rewards those who are loyal and helpful to him, as I have been. Between him, and the payment I made in Gaul with the spoils...well, we won't have to worry about money for a long time. And both of you will have nice dowries, don't you worry about that."

Sliding his arm around Aurelia - he just couldn't resist - Gaius beamed out at his gathered family. "The Marciae Nervae. Together again. Come now, I'm going to wash up, then let's have a proper dinner like a proper family. I want to hear about everything that happened when I was gone, and I promise you...I've got a few stories of my own."

 

[LadyAria]

Marcia Nervonis

Did he kiss her lips to check for wine? Did he suspect infidelity? She thought watching the open mouth kiss that made her terribly uncomfortable. Quickly, her concerns faded when she saw the fire behind his eyes that burned in the presence of her mother. Curses to Venus to inflict them with such passion! A man’s place was in the forum or on the field. To love one’s wife was to know an unbearable heartache and great distraction. May the Gods never be so cruel to her. A flush rose to her cheeks; however, she consciously fought the effect on her countenance in respect for her parents.

"Marcia. My dove." Marcus moved to his older daughter, kissing her cheeks before hugging her, tightly but rather more chastely than with Aurelia

Marcia tilted her head forward in humility that shook her ruby-dyed coils. The slaves had worked for hours braiding and shaping her hair until her scalped ached with abuse. Loosely draped across her womanly form and pinned to her shoulder with a golden disc, the blue wool protected her ivory skin from the soft breeze. Her green eyes focused on the dusty clay ground as her father spoke of their dowries.

The wealth and new political ties would bring her a good husband. Progressing in age, the matter of matrimony was utmost in her mind. In the early hours of the morning before the house had risen, she crept to their family cabinet to show reverence to her ancestors and seek favor from Lares. She prayed for discipline and poise to bless her family in the hour of her father’s return and bring comfort to his heart. She asked that his eyes might be opened to her readiness to take on a home of her own. It was time to make arrangements and she had sought her mother’s help to work her father’s hand. An alliance to one of the great houses would secure her future. She had even volunteered a few names of elderly widows of great prestige who could elevate her status to the inner most circles. She smiled at the though of becoming a grand hostess and birthing the future senators of Rome.

Following her family into the house, her mind paused over her sister. A frown passed over her face like a shadow of a bird quickly past. Jealously struck at Marcia’s heart as it seemed regardless of her failings, the youngest drew their love. Something about her little sister struck the affections of her audience. Even now, she had managed to steal away her father’s attention. Marcia hastened her step to join back into the conversation.

“I’ve finished my studies,” she injected. “My teacher told said I had one of the most agile minds ever seen and will make an excellent senator’s wife. It is not boastful to repeat the words of another, is it mother? I do apologize for such a slip. Oh father, I cannot wait to hear of your travels. We have so missed you... especially mother. Tell us everything. Tell us of the world. Tell us, what is Caesar like?”

 

[Esmeralda_Tate]

Aurelilla Nervonis

Aurelilla had been waiting all day for this moment. In fact, she had been waiting for what felt like forever to finally see her father. He had been away for almost two years, and when she stood together with her mother and older sister she couldn't hide the smile that formed on her lips.

She told herself that tonight would be a very special night and she prayed that she wouldn't mess anything up. She was a nervous girl, and lacked the self confidence that Marcia, her older sister possessed. She spent the greater half of the afternoon in her room preparing herself. She wasn't sure what to expect once her father walked into the house. Was he a changed man or would he still be the same? Memories flooded her mind as she sat by her dresser and brushed out her long brown hair. She was sure that he would have many tales to tell, and she would be eager to listen.

As she stood with the rest of the women of her family she looked to them both and watched their reactions. Her mother offered her a smile but there was something in her eyes that caused Aurelilla to shift hers down to the marble floor. She was well aware that her mother wanted more from her. She always felt inadequate while in the presence of her.

Even though Aurelilla was the overlooked child, she had a certain charm about her that captivated those in her presence. It was something she didn't quite understand. She was a very sweet, loving girl who would make a wonderful wife someday. Her loyalty and obedience would be highly prized by a potential suitor. She had much to offer even if she wasn't as intelligent as her sister.

She nodded when her mother informed them that their behavior had to be impeccable. It was something that came natural to her. She would be the perfect little lady. She had become a woman during her fathers absense and she wanted her father to be proud of her.

When he finally returned home she allowed her deep brown eyes to look over his form. He appeared tired and weary. Of course food and drink would always help and they had a big dinner planned. A very extravegant night indeed.

He first went to her mother. Their lips met in a tender kiss. She felt her cheeks flush and she shifted her position as she stood before them. Then, he went to Marcia and gave her a hug. Lastly, he came to her. Her eyes beamed at her father and when he wrapped his arms around her she clung to him tightly. Her eyes welled up with tears that she would never allow to fall. Her nostrils took in the scents from her fathers uniform that smelled so foreign to her. When he pulled away from her she smiled again but was suddenly acutely aware of her sister so close to her. Biting her lip, she then glanced over to Marcia and noticed the frown on her face. There always seemed to be a tension between the two girls that always left Aurelilla feeling uncomfortable. She longed to reach out but she knew her attempts would be ignored.

Looking back at her father again, she straightened her posture and remained quiet for she knew that to be her place. It was time for the dinner and as soon as her father motioned, she went into the dining room and offered him a drink...

 

[Randolph]

Marcellus

Upon the wide expanse of coarse scrubland known as Mars Field the legion was dismissed, without pomp and with only as much ceremony as was fitting. Marcellus begged his leave of Gaius Marcius Nerva and accompanied by his groom and a small detachment, he headed wearily yet purposefully for the Ostian gate and beyond that for his family’s villa in the hills overlooking the sea.

It was a strange homecoming. After two long years of war in distant, savage lands he had thought to feel joy, pride even relief perhaps, when at last he glimpsed the white walls and shining hills of Rome.
But it was not so. Marcellus felt tired and hollow and spent.

During the campaign, alone in his tent in some nighted, mud-blighted valley with wind and rain lashing outside, he had dared to imagine this moment.
In his dreams the sun gleamed upon a sea of bronze and scarlet as the glorious VIIth rode home. The trumpets sang and the kettledrums beat, the people threw garlands as they turned out in their thousands to see the heroes return. The men cheered, the women waved and blew kisses as they marvelled at the spectacle, the trains of booty and the wagons of bound and humbled foes.

Of course he had known upon waking to yet another cold dawn that it could never be this way.

The political situation at home was too delicately poised for Caesar’s supporters in the senate to win his armies such a triumph. The proconsul returned from Gaul with enormous wealth and power, at the head of a prodigious army - seasoned and fiercely loyal to its leader. His rivals in the emerging power struggle, and one in particular, could not contemplate seeing them so honoured. But Marcellus had long anticipated and accepted this, for he was no dreamer – far from it! He was a warrior, a fighting man in the prime of his life.

Fiercely practical in most matters, his advice was often sought and weighed carefully - not only in debates and war councils but also in the chaos of battle where the furies descend shrieking to harvest men’s souls, when wit, courage and instinct are often all that stand between victory and annihilation.

In his youth, Marcellus was known in the mess as a hothead. Experience and duty had since smoothed many of the rough edges but, though he did not lack imagination, none now would ever call him dreamer. Amongst themselves though, his many friends would say that he was no politician either.
Still, Marcellus was not so hard-bitten that riding without fanfare through the relatively empty streets of the capital did not constitute something of an anticlimax. He knew that he was not the only one who felt it. The fact that it was a sign of increasingly nervous times for the Republic, made it no easier for the soldiers to bear.

And so it was with this strange melancholy that Tribune Marcellus Flavius Cauno regarded the red-tiled roofs and ivy-grown walls of the Villa Cauno, nestling in the fields above the town of Ostia.

The day was overcast, the wind cool and the house seemed quiet and smaller somehow than he remembered, however the land and the stables looked to be tidy and in good order.

His mother’s regular letters had kept him abreast of the family’s business interests whilst he was in Gaul. There had been some difficult years following the death of his father, a successful merchant with contacts in Athens, Sicily, Sidon, and Egypt, but his mother had risen to the challenges and gold was flowing once again into the family coffers. She had done his father’s memory proud, for she was not a commercial creature by nature. His mother was the daughter of a senator and an offshoot of one of the great patrician families of Rome.

“Master!” Old Philo greeted him joyfully in the newly-swept yard as Marcellus swung down from his grey and handed the reins to the groom.

“Salve, Philo.” He hugged the man, his father’s loyal and trusted Greek steward, before holding him at arms’ length and studying him with a parade-ground eye. “You look fatter…”

“And you older, though your manners do not improve with age.”

They both laughed and embraced again. Melancholy lifted from Marcellus like the mists of the Tiber’s estuary that faded with the morning sun. He was home and it felt good. Laughing still they walked into the house to greet his mother and sister.


***

 

[Lady_Mornington]

Aurelia Marcia

"Gaius"

Aurelia's voice was hardly more than a whisper as she looked at her husband, her eyes scanning him for any wounds , or some other visible signs of change about him. By no means gifted with sight, Aurelia had still experienced some disturbing dreams of him being wounded or even dying. Yet here he was, looking tired, and perhaps somewhat skinnier than she remembered him but apart from that he looked just as he had done when he left for Gaul. She smiled as he strode closer, not listening to his words, and then finding herself in his arms again.

For a moment Aurelia allowed herself to be lost in her husband's embrace and kiss. It had been so long, and she realised just how much she had longed for him. The uncertainties of the times, the fact that she could, at any moment, have been the recipient of the news of his death, had brought about her sometimes haughty manner. Aurelia was a loving mother, or at least she tried to be, but she also had had to prepare should the worst befall the Marciae Nervae, and thus she sometimes came across as cold in her dealings with both the servants and her children. But that would all change now.

Aurelia almost gave a disgruntled sigh as Gaius withdrew from her, the reaction merited more by the wants of her body than any rational thought, yet it was no less potent and she had to steady herself not to let herself give in to the urges. It wouldn't do for the girls to see their mother behaving like a lovestruck teen, especially not now. Straightening a crease on her stola before meeting the dark orbs of his eyes and speaking in a carefully modulated tone of voice, that she was certain would not betray the turmoil she felt inside.

"It pleases me to see you in good health Husband and we are all eager to hear about your adventures." She gave him a look that matters political was not a suitable topic to discuss at this particular juncture. True enough, Marcia had a keen mind and it would surprise Aurelia if her oldest had not gauged the political situation already. With the Pompeian faction having left the capital, Rome seemed little more than a prize to be claimed by the conquerer of Gaul, and where Caesar went there went Antony. Aurelia made a mental note to discuss this with her husband later. She had her doubts as to the merits of the general, but she also knew the close relation that he shared with her husband.

Nodding to her daughters as they greeted their father, Marcia acting with the grace and dignity that was sure to make Gaius proud. All in all Marcia had emulated the best of both of them. Aurelia's slender build and emerald eyes, the courage of her father's and the agile minds that were defining features of the Marciae Nervae. Still there was still an element of sibling rivalry between Marcia and Aurelilla which ill suited her eldest daughter, and the way that she tried to interject into the discussion caused Aurelia to gently chastise her, doing so by placing her hand on her oldest daughter's arm as she spoke.

"Marica dear, there will be ample time to tell your father of your academic progress later," she leaned closer and added in a somewhat sterner tone "and it doesn't suit you to be so starving for attention."

Receiving a nod as confirmation that Marcia had understood and graciously accepted her verdict before transferring her attention to the exchange between Gaius and Aurelilla. Gaius had always had a soft spot for his youngest, and in her heart Aurelia shared that sentiment and yet.

Yet she couldn't bring herself to be as loving as the girl deserved.

Aurelia knew it was not her youngest's fault, In all the girl was innocent, it was just a cruel joke played on her by the Fates. Aurelia's greatest sorrow was the fact that she had never given her husband the son and heir that she knew he wanted. After all, a man without sons was a man without a future. When carrying Marcia she had been certain that it was a son placed under her heart, the way that the unborn had moved inside her had bespoke a son, and yet it had not been so. When carrying Aurelilla the same hopes had been raised and Aurelia had made countless offerings to Venus Birthgiver for a son, and still...

No son, but another daughter, and the bleeding that she had caused when she entered the world had hurt Aurelia to the point that she would never be able to carry another child. It was not her youngest fault, she had to remind herself about that, and still..

It was not that she didn't love her, yet she had somehow expected more of her than what she displayed. Aurelilla wasn't stupid, but the shyness that she shrouded herself in did somehow manage to project the image of being just that. Like now for instance.

"Aurelilla, do answer your father." Aurelia smiled somewhat apologetically as she felt Gaius arm around her waist again. "I'm sorry about her behaviour, sometimes one thinks she was raised by Germans." Feeling the warmth of her husband's body so close to hers and knowing that her comment had perhaps been a bit unfair on her youngest, thus turning to her again and smiling again. "but I'm sure you will make up for it during dinner will you not my dear?" She reached out to pat her cheek as Gaius annonuced his intentions to freshen up, giving the rest of the family a respite to proceed to the main room.

Waiting by the couches for Gaius to return and surveying the dishes already presented, being readily aided by Marcia, who's keen eyes for the merest detail had kept the servants on their toes. Yes Marcia would become a right terror should her own household sport lazy slaves. Trying to involve Aurelilla in the discussions and to her surprise found her youngest actually contributing to it them without stuttering or blushing overly much. Perhaps Gaius's return had strenghtened her and hopefully it would mean that Aurelilla would finally blossom.

Looking up and seeing her husband striding into the room, having changed from his dusty uniform in favour of an exquisite tunic that enhanced his features to the point that Aurelia could feel herself blush yet again. Receiving another kiss, before taking their places on the couches and being served wine.

"Now dearest do tell us, we are anxious to know of how Caesar and Antony subdued the Gauls, not to mention your own part. Girls you'll do well to remember that your father is a hero.."

Aurelia met the gaze of her husband's again, smiling over the rim of her cup. It was good to have him back with her again, and as he began to recount what he had been through she knew that the future for the Marciae Nervae looked very promising indeed.

 

[magbeam]

Gaius Marcius Nerva

"Oh, come now, it's not as if I haven't been starved to give her attention ever since I left her," Gaius said in response to his wife's chastising of Marcia. However, that was all he did. Some men might have taken exception to a wife interrupting a conversation with his own child, but after all, even before he had left Aurelia had cared for his daughters and seen to their upbringing, taking it on fully after he had been assigned to Gaul, naturally. And she had quite obviously done such a good job so far, it would be a shame for someone with manners such as his to interject.

He smiled at Marcia, proud at the grace with whichl she took her mother's words. Anyways, it was good advice from Aurelia, and he knew that Marcia would take it. What a fine young woman she was. No doubt whatever Greek tutor she had was correct, she would make a fine wife to a politically eligible senator. No matter what Cato's crusty 'moral' diatribes or common jokes maintained, more than a few of his compatriots would kill for a wife who knew more than gossip and the price of Coan silk. Yes, a fine daughter, and thanks to the imminently profitable war, one that he could finally afford to find an equally suitable husband for. Maybe one of the rich, old optimates after Caesar had finished grinding their noses into the mud.

"Germans," Gaius repeated from his wife's admonition to Aurelilla. "Now there's a bunch of savages I'm glad I didn't face. Did you know...Well, I suppose I should get changed out of this into something more appropriate first, shouldn't I? Won't be a moment, I promise. Been too long since I've had Grumio's cooking," he said, referring to the household cook. He left Aurelia and Marcia begin to work on setting the triclinium, only with great reluctance sliding from his wife's waist. Patience. Soldiering had taught him patience and control to a degree that far surpassed anything his political experience had prepared him for. He was no Catonic, but even he could appreciate that such honest and ancient traits left him a better man.

Opening the doors to his bedchamber had been...strange. He had dreamed of this moment for almost every night for the past twenty months. And now, here he was. The room, seen through the eyes of a man who had spent his time in army tents or, if he were lucky, provincial villas, seemed much larger and more lavish than what he had remembered. The thought of Marcia sleeping in it alone for that amount of time made it seem even larger. His eyes lingered on the bed. Soon. There were skills beyond command and oratory that he was good at and had not forgotten.

"Domine! Welcome, welcome back home!"

Gaius turned to smile at his long-held Greek servant. "Hello, Solon. It's good to see you again. Kept the girls in line while I was gone, I trust?"

"The master knows that I do my duty always," he said, helping Gaius take the armor off of his body. "But tch! Here I am, speaking of honor and duty to a true hero! The close friend of our new king!"

"Caesar is no king, Solon. I've been at his side for two years. I know him as well as any man might, I trust." Soon Gaius was naked, another slave filling a brass bowl with scented water that had ladled over his face and hair, feeling the sweat and dust wash off. Not a bathhouse, but it would do for now.

"That is not what I hear, Domine," Solon said coyly, helping select a rich red tunic for his master to wear, leftover from his days as praetor when he had had to entertain and be entertained at numerous state parties. With Caesar in control - no, don't slip down that path also; with Caesar having restored the proper order - and so few citizens of senatorial rank remaining in the City, let alone of praetorian rank, no doubt those days would return soon enough.

"You of all people, Solon, should know better than to listen to slave gossip." His hair toweled as dry as possible, Gaius slipped the tunic on, enjoying the feel of it. So strange to be back in senatorial clothes, rather than stiff armor with arms. Even in relatively tame Cisalpine Gaul, Gaius had felt it prudent to always be prepare. "And now, my friend, if you'll excuse me, I mustn't keep my family or stomach waiting."

Gaius smiled as he entered the triclinium, seeing his womenfolk, even dear little Aurelilla, bustling about to make sure the slaves were doing things right. He had to chuckle at Marcia's attentiveness and unwillingness to accept anything less than perfection. He wondered which parent she took that from. His laughter drew the eyes of his wife towards where he was standing, and Gaius reveled silently in the blush upon her cheeks. It took all his restraint to limit himself to the one kiss on the cheek. It took all his restraint even to merely limit his desire to kissing her deeply again. He had waited two years. He would have to wait two more hours.

"A hero? Oh, no, no, no. Girls, your mother is flattering me." He returned the smile over the cup of fine blue Alexandrine glass. "By the time I arrived, most of the fighting was already over. I showed up a few months after the victory at Alesia and the surrender of King Vercingetorix. All the fighting I was involved in were just minor skirmishes, mopping-up operations against outnumbered bands too stubborn to realize that their best bet was to surrender. Noble, perhaps, but stupid. I barely left Cisalpina and only to Transalpina, never saw the north or Germania or Britannia, and I really saw more action during my previous service. At least these weren't Romans I had to butcher, I'll say that much."

As a very young man, barely a man at all, Gaius had served in Pompey's army during the war against Spartacus, and as a quaestor early in his Senate career, he had served under Cicero in the brief, bizarre Catiline Conspiracy. Neither, of course, was anywhere near as glamorous as the conquest of Gaul, no matter how much fighting in the former he had done, relatively speaking.

Gaius paused as he selected some pork and a few oysters to eat, popping them into his mouth.

"So that is the great heroic service I did. Although it's better than being labeled and treated as a traitor, which is what will happen if Pompey wins this..." Gaius trailed off at a warning glance from Aurelia. "Well, enough on that, or me. Not proper to angle for attention, eh?" He winked at Marcia.

"So. Caesar. You want to know what he's like, my dear?" he asked that selfsame daughter after eating another portion of meat. "He's...It's hard to describe. You've read his dispatches, at the least, I trust? So you know what a command of the language he has, how well he can grasp people's attentions. But let me tell you, that is nothing compared to hearing him speak. He'll be vulgar to the common soldiers, or he'll outshine Cicero when he's talking with some dignitary. He grabs your attention and respect and doesn't let go, all while making you feel like you want to work to make sure he doesn't. He never forgets a name, or a face, or a snippet of gossip or factoid of information. Brilliant, absolutely brilliant in politics or battle or just about anything else you can think of. A bit vain, to be sure, likes his women and can be a shade tyrannical. But with patricians and generals, it comes with the trade. All this talk of him wanting to be king, or of outkilling Sulla, pure nonsense by those who fear him. He wants to get his proper treatment, nothing more. I'm...proud to be at his side. And that's Father Jove's truth."

Gaius stared off into the room's corner for a second, as if recovering from what had become a minor panegyric, before emptying his glass.

"Well. I hope that answers your question on what Caesar's like?" he asked. "Now, tell me everything I've missed here. I want to know everything."

 

[LadyAria]

Marcia Nervonis

Marcia saw her father’s reflection in Aurelia’s eyes. The sparkle in her eye communicated volumes over the cup. Her mother glowed like a poor doomed echo besot with Narcissus. Aurelia’s did not need false color for the pink in her cheeks was natural. Marcia wanted to melt into the marble floor or maybe turn into a tree like Apollo. Anything would be better then feeling like an interloper standing between what was so obviously a private reunion. They had desires for each others. She prayed future guests would not notice or feel the same. Even with a war hero and a domestic goddess as parents, they still had the potential to be mortifyingly embarrassing to their offspring. Making eye contact with her sister, she arched her brow looking from one parent to the next. Aurelilla seemed confused. So, Marcia gently nodded toward her mother. Did Aurelilla notice the same thing?

"Well, enough on that, or me. Not proper to angle for attention, eh?"

She blushed lightly at her father’s remark about her inappropriate behavior. Internally, she winced at her public failing. The slightest show of emotion revealed your underbelly to all who cared to poke it with the tip of their sword. Her mother had been right about her horrid behavior. Her mother was always right. With exception, Aurelia was in everyway the moral and spiritual guardian of their House Marcia hoped to become. Marcia must learn to deal with her sister in other ways. To mar her reputation with ill behavior would be a fool’s folly. She would be a paragon of familial love even it made her ill. Her smile brightened for the benefit of her audience.

“I’ve read many things, Father. The Optimates fear Casear will be the death of democracy. Yet, not unlike the cries for Pompey a few years ago, now the people believe Caesar should be made permanent dictator to restore order to Rome. Isn’t giving the people what they ask for exactly what democracy is all about, father? Pompey’s move to forbad Caesar’s consulship in absentia was poor politic move considering the people’s favor, I think. I do believe it is particularly rude after marrying Cornelia . This nonsense over being retroactively prosecution for electoral bribery is just absurd as well. Why would he declare such a ruling if he did not fear Caesar’s popularity? He wants to strip him of his honor and have him imprisoned. I think Pompey is a pompous old man trying to hold on to his failing control by cheating. There is no way Pompey will beat Caesar in the fields. Oh, and some whisper Caesar is actually Jove incarnate. You've made a wise choice to align yourself with a God.”

Marcia’s face shined briefly with excitement. She quickly took a sip of water from her cup and found her grace. The golden sprinkles in her hair caught the torch light as she turned to look at her sister. With tiny sweet plum balanced between her fingers, Aurelilla daintily chewed her bite. A trickled of juice swelled on her bottom lip before she wiped it away. Her large beautiful eyes blinked with thick lush lashes. For a moment in time, she reminded her of the chubby toddler that held her hand while looking for wild flowers in the field together. They had once laughed and run free before the world had made other designs on them.

“Come Sister, do tell us your thoughts on the fate of Rome and all the things he has missed with us. Her mind is very bright, father, though she is slow to speak. In our chambers, she tells such fantastic tales. I only wish to have such eloquent stories to spin. I know her words will do us great justice in recounting the years you were gone. Please sweet sister, tell our father of our lives in his absence.”

In an attempt to redeem herself for her earlier behavior, Marcia folded her hands neatly in her lap ready to give her sister the floor. Her chin lowered while her eyes cut to her mother acknowledging her wishes. She would be obedient to her mother’s will and strive to be in her favor. Making her sister shine would be bring goodwill.

 

[Randolph]

Marcellus

Steam billowed in great scented clouds; Marcellus leaned back against the side of the bath and sighed.

Philo, who stood with his hands clasped behind his back over by the high window, had always criticised his father for the indulgent luxury of the huge bath chamber. Now, as Marcellus submitted to the hot water and the gentle ministrations of the slave with the sea-sponge, he thanked Minerva that his father hadn’t listened to the old misery.

“So Philo,” he said at length, his voice rebounding from the smooth, tiled surfaces, “isn’t it about time you wrecked my peace and told me all the bad news?”

“What news would you like to hear first, master,” the steward said, turning.

“Well, I can see that things here are running well enough. No doubt mother will want to bore me rigid over dinner with talk of ledgers and accounting and indentures and the crippling price of Egyptian cotton… Why don’t you tell me what the people are saying in the streets and markets of Rome and Ostia?”

The old man pursed his lips. “All the recent talk is of civil war, master. A year ago people would have made fun of you for even thinking it. Now, nobody is laughing.”

Marcellus leaned forward to allow the slave; a slender, doe-eyed creature from the wild hills of Dalmatia, to pour a stream of hot water down his back from a tall bronze urn. She was a recent purchase. He did not know her name or even if she had been taught to speak Latin, as yet. Mutely she avoided his gaze.

“And what do you say, Philo?” he enquired.
“Only that war is bad for trade and civil war worst of all.”
“That depends on your line of business, surely?” Marcellus shrugged and rubbed at the muscles of his neck. The slave quickly responded to his need and setting down jug and sponge she began to massage his shoulders. “Armies need grain, weapons, equipment… War fills the slave markets, does it not?”

Philo’s face was grave. “We are not talking of new conquests, sir. I don’t doubt that the campaign in Gaul will prove highly profitable for many of us over the coming months, not least of course your noble and distinguished leader! A war in Italy though is a different prospect. If events turn as all fear they may, then we face nothing less than the implosion of civilised society. It will threaten everything that your father built and everything that your family has worked for!” He approached the side of the bath before adding quietly: “I fear this will be so for all the merchants and the nobility, regardless of which side they ultimately choose.”

Marcellus blinked water from his eyes and peered intently through the haze at the steward. Confound Philo and his riddles! What was the old goat trying to tell him? He knew what side he was on! Had he not just endured two years of bloody toil demonstrating where his allegiance lay?

“So it is true that Pompey and his faction have left the city?” he said. “Where are they billeted and what of Cicero and Cato? What of Metellus Scipio…”

Philo held up his hands, “Master, everything in good time! Finish your bath. Your mother has informed me that she intends to speak privately with you this evening, after dinner. She has instructed that I attend the discussion, initially at least. Later you will be brought up to date properly with events in Rome - and you can, of course, astound us with stories of your bravery against the barbarian hordes!” The steward smiled, his grey eyes gleaming with irony.

Marcellus laughed. “Damn you Philo, you won't get a word from me if all you can do is sneer! But I could give you some tales though - Avaricum, Uxellodunum, Alesia… One thing I will say, I’m sick to the teeth of Gaulish sluts! They’d flay your hide for a saddlecloth as readily as the men - and they smell just as bad. Some tribes I swear we could only tell the sexes apart by their moustaches!”

He twisted to regard the silent girl who knelt behind him. Water plastered her flimsy tunic against her breast revealing the dark points of her nipples through the translucent fabric. He watched them press and sway for a moment as the girl worked her small hands diligently over his muscular shoulders, before turning again to the Greek. “Once, near Bibracte,” he confided, “we had to discipline a squire who was found interfering with the horses one night. He had got himself a stool and… well, anyway… it was a fine bay mare and, after the hearing, we joked in the officer’s tent that actually we should have commended him for discernment and good taste!” Marcellus threw back his dark, short-cropped head. His laughter echoed round the room, surprising the girl who drew away looking nervously at Philo.

The steward smiled at her and calmed her with a gesture. To the Tribune he grimaced and made to leave. “If you will pardon me, sir. Your stories will no doubt be every bit as amusing later…”

Marcellus grinned and waved Philo away. The steward inclined his head and left the chamber. Marcellus stood. Water cascaded from his body as he stepped from the bath like a bronzed Amphitriton emerging from the sea. The tribune was not a particularly tall man but he was built powerfully with a deep chest, broad back and muscular calves and thighs. Scars - some healed, some healing - criss-crossed the skin of his arms and legs.

Slowly he approached the Dalmatian girl, ignoring the proffered towel. Her gaze travelled down over the sweep of his chest, past the hard contours of his abdomen. Her eyes widened on seeing his arousal and darted, for a moment, to his face, the blood rushing to her cheeks. She began to back away from him. Marcellus smiled. Was that a spark of fear he saw or was she playing with him? She was after all, he judged, sixteen or perhaps seventeen. She would have seen men before…

Her buttocks and then her slim shoulders and the back of her head nudged the cold, smooth tiles of the wall. Marcellus paused a finger’s breadth from her wet and trembling form. His body was like another wall before her, a bulwark of flesh and bone; warm and vital but equally as unyielding.
Placing his hands flat against the tiles either side of the girl's head, he addressed her for the first time, his voice like silken steel: “I am Marcellus Flavius Cauno the son and sole heir of this house; you, girl, can call me… Master!”

 

[Esmeralda_Tate]

Aurelilla Nervonis

Aurelilla sat at the table with her eyes adverted down to her plate. She began to eat slowly making sure to take small bites just as she was taught from little on. It became difficult when one was hungry, but she managed to control the urge to eat faster quite well.

She heard her mother chastising Marcia about seeking attention and she couldn't help it when her cheeks blushed. She usually remained quiet during these moments even though she knew it frustrated everybody in her family. Aurelilla held many great thoughts and feelings inside of her. Finding it difficult to express them, she turned to her own imagination and dreams. She kept a diary of sorts up in her room and would write countless numbers of stories that she wouldn't dare share with anybody, not even her sister. It was her way to cope with the sinking feelings that always consumed her.

Aurelilla was quite aware of how her mother felt about her. She knew that her mother wanted a son. From the moment Aurelilla was born, she had felt a failure. Aurelilla knew that because of her, her mother couldn't have anymore children. Her feelings of being inferior forced her to become an introvert, and that too added to her many shortcomings. There were many times when Aurelilla wished that she could have been born a boy so that her mother would love her more. She longed to have her mothers arms wrapped around her, to smell her sweet fragrance as her hair tickled her nose. She wanted nothing more than to hear the praising words of a proud parent. If only she could be good enough...

She was a daddy's girl.

Aurelilla was wrapped up in her thoughts when she was brought back to reality by her mothers cruel comment. Raised by Germans? At that Aurelilla seemed to shrink farthur down into her chair as if trying to disappear. Aurelilla didn't view herself as a savage, yet her previous actions must have displayed as such. Still, she put her utensil down and apologized. "I am sorry mother" she then wiped the corners of her mouth with the cloth napkin.

She was grateful when her father began to tell the stories of what it was like with Caesar. Finally the attention would be off her for awhile. She listened intently and smiled ever so often when his eyes lit up from recalling a particular memory. Oh how she loved her father and couldn't wait to spend more time with him when things quieted down a bit.

After some time Marcia began to speak and once again all eyes were soon upon Aurelilla again. Her heart raced in her chest as her sisters eyes probed hers. There was definite tension between the two of them that wasn't there when they were children. Time can harden a heart though.

She knew what her sister was like. She was very manipulative and cunning and Aurelilla had to try and find ways to defend herself against it. She squirmed in her chair after her sister asked her to share her thoughts. Aurelilla came across as being stupid sometimes because of how aloof she was around people, but stupid she was not. True, she was not as smart as Marcia but she could still hold her own when need be. Aurelilla was always the silent observer, learning from peoples actions. Sometimes she would sit still and nobody would even know that she was in the room watching. She became very proficient at reading people and learning their intentions. She was a very intuitive person and could feel what others are thinking and feeling. It was a gift that she was born with which perhaps could have given birth to the charm she possessed that most were so attracted to.

Marcia had something up her sleeve. Aurelilla could feel it. She didn't quite know yet what she had in store, but she would find out in time. She didn't want to be a part of her cruel games. She preferred peace and harmony, and if it meant declining to engage in the conversation, then so be it.

"My dear sister Marcia, I don't believe this night should be about my stories. This is fathers night. He gets the honor of having all the attention put on him. He deserves it. I am sure I can tell him about my life during his absence another time."

She then took another bite of food and looked up at her father with her big brown eyes for reassurance...

 

[Lady_Mornington]

Aurelia Marcia

Aurelia listend with only half an ear as Marcia sprouted off her extensive knowledge of the political situation that Caesar's return had created. The girl had a sharp mind, although the claims that Caesar was in fact Jupiter Incarnate did not really make sense. Then again, one never knew. Caesar , through Aeneas was descended from Venus Birthgiver herself so perhaps there lay some truth to the claims. Anyway, Marcia did make her proud and surely Gaius would be impressed by her knowledge and the way that she was able to assess the politics of Rome.

She looked across to her husband's couch, smiling as she sipped from her glass. It was a good vintage, best Falernian which she hoped would please him. Even by Roman standards the wine was exceptional, and she would be very surprised had her husband tasted anything better than the acidic brew that made it to the legions. Aurelia could feel his eyes boring into hers as Aurelilla put her cup down, demurely refraining from making any serious conversation. It pained her that her youngest couldn't try to make the effort. Although it could have something to do with the snide remarks that Marcia had uttered. That was yet another worry of hers, that Marcia never seemed content lest her sister was firmly put in her rightful place. It was not like there was any serious competition anyway, but sometimes it seemed that if not Aurelilla was properly silenced, Marcia would never be happy.

Knowing it was a fools errand, and something that her youngest would probably have to pay for later, Aurelia still intervened. Keeping her voice level as she looked intently at her daughters.

"Girls, I know you are both excited to see your father back again, but I will not suffer impertinence from any of you. You will behave and that's the end of it. It may be that we will have important guests in the future." Aurelia didn't mention any names, the recount of her husband's being enough to hint who it may be. Besides even if Caesar himself would not be a guest in the Marciae Nervae household, there was still a chance that General Antony would. 'Such a shame that he is married', Aurelia thought as she let her eyes trail over Marcia's fine features. Then again, given the general's reputation, he would probably favour Aurelilla's sweetness rather than Marcia's cold rationality. She put her cup down on the table as she continued. "From now on I want no such antics from any of you is that understood, no sniping at one and other, no quiet sulks or any other tantrums." She let her emerald eyes rest on Marcia then on Aurelilla before she nodded. "That's settled then. Kiss your father good night." She nodded regally as the girls kissed Gaius and then herself before making for their rooms. Only when the sound of their footsteps had receeded did she turn to her husband, her features softer than they had been for the entire evening.

"Much as I love them both, right now the two of them are just a little bit in the way my love." She gracefully got to her feet and walked the few steps over to Gaius's couch. The closeness of their bodies sending shivers through her, and as she reached out to pull her into an embrace she could not stop herself from giving a small moan in delight. The first kiss was borne out of hunger, and she greedily responded to the way he kissed her, and when Gaius lifted her up in his arms, she found herself laughing like was she a virgin on her way to her wedding night.

"I've missed you so very much." She whispered the words as she wrapped her arms around his neck, resting her head on his shoulder as he carried her through the villa towards their sleeping couch. Aurelia wouldn't normally allow such frivolities, but right now it seemed fitting. Besides the girls were sent to their rooms, and the only person watching was her body slave Desma. The Greek woman keeping her face as impassive as was she a statue as she followed a respectable distance behind them.

Gaius whispered something in her ear as he gently put her down on the bed, untying the belt from his tunic and slipping it of his muscular frame. Naked he got on the couch, placing kisses on her face as he pulled the pins from the shoulders of her stola and with an expert move, pulled it of and revealing her body clad only in the flimsy material of her palla.

Aurelia pursed her lips, pretending to be shocked, as she felt his hands cupping her breasts, and then tugging the sheer palla down to expose her milky skin to his eyes.

"Bona Dea, if I didn't know better I'd thought you'd practised your skill in disrobing women." She kissed him again, her fingers interlocking behind his neck. She didn't know of any affairs of his, most men of her class did keep a mistress it seemed. Although she didn't think he would have had much opportunity finding one in Gaul. After all the women there did not have the sophistication necessary, nor did she believe that he would have stooped as low as to patronise the camp prostitutes.

Her thoughts were derailed as she felt his hardness against her sex, pushing against the already moist folds of hers. Their eyes interlocking as she ran her hand down between their bodies, finding his manhood and rythmically caressing him before slowly, almost teasingly, guiding him inside her. The way he stretched her coaxed another moan to escape her lips, and as they found the common rythm, her moans turned into screams.

His need was palpable, as was her own, and as his lips trailed along her neck and down to the soft mounds of her breasts she could feel the impending climax. She pulled her legs up, allowing him to enter her even deeper, runnning the soles of her bare feet down the back of his calves as her lips sought his. Aurelia could feel him stiffen, and with a grunt as he pushed deeper inside her, he deposed his offering within her, causing her own climax to break and with a scream that was likely to be heard even to the girl's rooms she let herself be immersed in the waves of pleasure.

 

[magbeam]

Gaius Marcius Nerva

Gaius smiled at Marcia, not just the words that came - she displayed a truly prodigious amount of knowledge and a grasp of the political situation for anyone, especially a youth or a girl or one who was both. To be sure, her Greek tutors deserved some credit, no doubt they had earned every denarius they had greedily scrambled for. But no matter how much wine you poured in, you could never fill a leaky amphora, and the fact that she understood the situation was much more a testament to her own innate abilities than the scroll-learning of the Greeks. But what made him smile even more was the expression on her face, a practical glowing that matched her hair. Her enthusiasm, her grace, her eagerness...

It was a shame he didn't have a son. Gaius didn't blame Aurelia; humans could not be held to account for the plans of the gods, and if it had been their wish that Aurelia bleed so during their youngest's birth, than so be it. After all, when he was older and inheritance - of property, influence, and the family name alike - became important, he could always just adopt. Absolutely nothing wrong with that, taking a young up-and-comer from a respectable family and making him his son. Still, while a son of his loins would have made Gaius happy, he was far from disconsolate with what the gods had blessed him with.

But if he had no actual son, than at least he had his Marcia. A woman without doubt, and one very pleasing to the eye and who would make a fine wife, she nevertheless was as close to a son as a daughter could be. When she was married, Gaius would visit their household often.

But that was still months away at the earliest, and his eyes drifted over to his younger daughter as Aurelia chastised her once again. Poor Aurelilla, he couldn't help think, even with his wife obviously in the right in voicing her displeasure with the girl. But still, Aurelilla was his little one, even if she had grown so during the past few years. He smiled indulgently at her. She was young, no doubt having her father back after so long had left things a bit uncomfortable with her. They'd talk tomorrow or in the next few days, set things right. He had no doubt to that.

Gaius turned his cheek, letting his daughters kiss him goodnight and kissing their own cheeks in return. As he did, and first Marcia and then Aurelilla kissed him before leaving for their bedchamber, Gaius could feel his heart begin to beat faster, his blood warming and his member...Assuming its energetic state. Not from any sort of incestuous leanings, might the gods commit him to eternal torment if he had ever thought such a thing...

It was just that, as they left, he became even more aware of the fact that he and Aurelia were, for the first time in years, together and alone. And when his wife turned to look back at him, Gaius knew from the expression on her face that she was more than aware of the same.

"My thoughts exactly, my wife," he said, licking his lips as she rose from her own to approach his own couch, taking strength from the girlish cry of excitement as he pulled her to him. The sensation as their lips met was euphoric, almost overpowering to Gaius, and what started out as, perhaps not chaste but careful, had succumbed to their overpowering hunger of both, and in a moment, Gaius had picked her up, enjoying the weight and warmth and softness of Aurelia against his arms and torso and the shoulder where her delicate neck seemed to fit perfectly against him.

"You don't know how hard it was for me to be away from you for so long, my love," Gaius whispered as he lowered her down onto the sleeping couch, kissing the delicate twists of her ear as he did so. "The gods to whom I prayed for a swift return are my witnesses. I swear that I hate Pompey as much for him keeping us from returning as for what he's done to Caesar."

Stepping back from the bed, the span of three seconds had him disrobed, his belt and expensive tunic pooling on the floor like discarded woolen bandages for how much he cared to deal with it properly before joining Aurelia. He nevertheless gave pause for several seconds, letting her look upon his body in the faint light of the oil lamps and torches from the City beyond the windows. Then he was on the bed, his mouth and hands running over her own fine features and soft curves, deftly pulling at pins and running over soft, thin cloth, growing reacquainted with her body through the thrilling non-barrier of the palla, her hard nipples poking through before finally that, as well, was gone and nothing, not a thousand miles of Gallic mountains or a hair's-breadth of clothing, separated the two of them any longer.

"Oh, I have been practicing, my love," he breathed in response to her playful banter, in between mouth-stealing kisses. "Every dream of mine for two years has been a rehearsal of this very moment." Unlike many of his contemporaries, Gaius had not touched a slave, prostitute, or willing young thing since the day their parents had betrothed Aurelia and he. It was a marriage of convenience, of course, all marriages among the equites were. But they had grown to love one another as well, a powerful, possessive, jealous love and one that, for all the restrictions and weaknesses his friends had pointed out, one that Gaius would never have traded or bartered or surrendered. It was this reason that he had not divorced Aurelia after Aurelilla's birth had rendered her barren, and he had had several offers. He was only glad that his own practical, hard-headed father had died by then. Gaius hadn't known what he would have done had the old man forced a divorce on grounds of infertility.

His brown eyes met with his wife's wide orbs, brilliant green even in the dark lighting, as her hand moved down between them, playing him like an instrument before, blessed Juno, she guided him inside and they were made whole once more. His mouth kissed and licked and nipped its way up and down her breasts, suckling from her nipples before working up, across her slender neck and ending on her mouth, kissing her hard as his member worked inside her, harder and faster and deeper as her legs moved and allowed for an even firmer joining.

Gaius's hands worked over Aurelia, holding her tight against him as he felt the hot pressure inside him and grow and grow, finally groaning into her neck as, a second later, her screams of climax reverberated throughout the room. They lay panting and sweaty afterwards, his arms still around her, holding her tight, kissing her gently every so often as his fingers played with hers. They whispered nothings to each other every so often, until, yawning, Gaius offered a last word before falling asleep:

"I love you."

* * * * *

Worn from both the explosive welcoming home Aurelia had given him, the week of hard marching from the Rubicon south that had preceded it, and the lack of formal duties for the first time in two years, Gaius slept late the next morning. He woke up and enjoyed a leisurely light breakfast of fruits and bread, during which time Hermes the gatekeeper announced that several lictors were present.

"Well, don't just stand there, let them in."

Gaius was finishing up the last of an apple as the two men, fasces on their shoulders entered.

"You are the legate Gaius Marcius Nerva?"

"I am," he nodded. "What does Caesar want?" It wasn't any wild guess to take a stab at who, in the City at the moment, could have sent them.

"Gaius Julius Caesar Imperator, Pontifex Maximus, Proconsul of Illyria and the Gauls, Defender of the Republic and Son of Venus, wishes you to come to the Curia an hour before the established convening of the Senate. He wishes to speak to you on a matter of the preservation of the State and your service to the Republic."

"Tell the proconsul that I will be there," he said, putting the apple down and calling Solon to him as the lictors left. An hour would complicate things if he was to be ready on time. Now he remembered why a proper schedule was preferable to lounging around like a barbarian prince. Still, after all that had happened, the gods wouldn't frown upon one morning's laxity - although were he late, Caesar might.

With Solon by his side, Gaius made his way through the streets of the City towards the Metellan Baths. One advantage to civil war soon became apparent: much less crowding along the City streets and none at all among the bathhouses. The dust and sweat of the past two years were finally scraped from him, and Gaius returned home much refreshed, donning his purple-striped toga praetexta. Finding Aurelia, Gaius smiled, standing before her.

"Been a while since I've worn this. Do I still look properly dignified in it?"

He smiled at her reply, kissing her on the cheek. "Caesar himself has summoned me to him before the meeting of the Senate. That shouldn't take long, not with the number of people left and with Caesar's men waiting in the wings. I promise, you won't even know I've gone."

On his litter, through the streets, it was not long before he saw the huge Theatre of Pompey, the meetingplace of the Senate since the riots had burned down the ancient Curia Hostilia several years back. As with most things Pompeian, it was huge, tasteless, and filled with Greek loot to hide the fact. It simply wouldn't do for Caesar, the savior of the Republic, to continue to hold the Senate in the building his enemy financed; still, at the moment, there was no alternative, although Gaius was sure that Caesar would have remedying that high on his list of priorities.

"Ah! My dear Gaius Nerva!" Caesar cried out when Gaius was escorted into the office chambers at the back, normally reserved for the consuls and the princeps, all of whom had fled south with Pompey. "How fortunate it is to see you!"

"Ave," Gaius replied, masking the urge to salute; after all, he was a civilian now, for the moment. "I have to say, Caesar, you seem rather happy for one in such a...precarious position, if you don't mind me saying so."

"Precarious?" Caesar asked, smiling. "Oh, my dear Nerva, I am anything but. The State treasury. It's here! It's all here!"

"Pardon?" The statement was so absurd, it didn't sink in at first.

"Those stupid, silly bastards left the entire treasury of the Republic behind," Antonius said, getting up from a campaign chair. "Jove protect them for it! Pompey has just funded our war effort for us. The Temple of Saturn, swimming in gold. I feel bad for the poor bugger, to be honest. Reduced to a cockup like so, this from the man who gave himself a name in emulation of Alexander!"

"Unbelieveable," Gaius muttered.

"I can picture him, sitting in Brundisium, crying into his posca as Cato and Cicero tear what's left of their hair out..." Antony continued, laughing as he took a deep draught of his wine.

"So the rumors are true?" Gaius asked, suddenly alarmed. "Pompey is gathering forces in the south of the peninsula? Sir, with all respect, why are we waiting here when we could be crushing them?"

"Oh, I doubt very much he is a threat, or ever will be," Caesar said noncommittally. "I'll move on him only when I'm sure he has enough ships to escape to the Greek provinces."

"Sir!" Gaius exclaimed, sitting up. "Is this a joke?" If it was, it would be the first time Caesar had ever joked on war planning.

"Oh, it's no joke, Praetor," Caesar assured. "Sit down. Finish your wine. I told you that Pompey is no threat. He is, sad as it may be, a joke, a shadow of his old self. Whether in Gaul or Greece or Egypt or Rome herself, I could defeat him. I therefore have chosen to fight him in Greece. There will be no civil war in Italy, no fighting to scare the citizens and to threaten the Republic's foundations. We have suffered enough of that in recent years. No, just as I will not become dictator, and will not proscribe or censor, nor will I allow fighting in the heart of our Republic."

"Ah. I see. That makes sense, of course, General. My apologies for doubting you." Gaius took another sip. "But if you are not to claim the dictatorate, and the executive magistrates have gone south with Pompey..."

"Oh, I may be forced to take the dictatorate," Caesar allowed. "But only for a short period, if the setting straight of the Republic required it of me. No, I will run for consul next year when the terms of those currently serving with Pompey run out. Until then, the Senate will issue a consultum ultimum allowing me to take command of the defense and guidance of the Republic until new magistrates can be constitutionally and duly elected. That is what this session is primarily about, that and confirming that Pompey is legally in the wrong and that all steps are to be taken to preserve the unity and stability of the State. I assume I have your support in this?"

"But of course, Caesar!" Gaius proclaimed.

"Of course we knew we could count on you, Nerva," Antonius said. "That wasn't the main reason we invited you here. As you say, we need good men. Most of the curule magistrates have run to curry favor with Pompey. You were a praetor before you joined us; how would you like to be one again? Say, praetor peregrinus and the chance of becoming consul in a few terms?"

Gaius stared for a few minutes, then smiled, drinking the rest of his wine. "You know, of course, that I am always at the service of the savior of the Republic. I accept."

* * * * *

As predicted, the Senate meeting went as quick as anticipated. The one hitch was when an optimate tribune of the people - legally sacrosanct, and with the power of veto - attempted to enter the meeting, but swift negotiation and running him back to his family with some of Pompey's gold ensured that, within less than two hours, acts proclaiming Caesar the defender of the Republic, Pompey its enemy, authorizing all attempts to defeat the optimates, and - most importantly for Gaius - awarding a number of curule magistracies to senators. Gaius found himself from going from a former praetor to a serving praetor peregrinus without needing to waste one solidus on bribes. A good day's work on its own. A shame that Pompey would likely see him stripped and exiled, if Gaius was lucky, if he won.

As the meeting began to break up, and Gaius was starting to leave - to his shame, wondering if his daughters would be occupied enough to allow their parents a more leisurely, graduated reacquaintance - he spotted a familiar figure who turned towards him, a look of familiarity on his young face. Recognition breaking a second later, Gaius walked towards him.

"Marcus Scribonius Decio!" he said, omitting the mouthful that came after it. "As I live and breath! How are you? Heard about your father. Terribly sorry to hear it, though of course it's a blessing we won't need to fight him now. Scared the piss out of me in the Slave War, and I was supposed to be his adjutant. They talked for a few moments, before he became aware of another presence nearby. Turning, he saw the familiar face of his laticlavian tribune from the army.

"Well well, Marcellus Cauno! How's the Ostian home faring? Oh, how rude of me. Do you two know each other? Marcellus Flavius Cauno, this is Marcus Scribonius Decio Dodonicus the Younger. I served under his father in the Slave War, helped him out a bit since. Marcus Decio, this is Marcellus Cauno, my laticlavian tribune when we were in Gaul."

The three talked for a bit more, as an idea started to form in Gaius's head as he looked at Decio the Younger. A fine man from a fine family, connections to his own and the optimates and prospects that, just maybe, were higher than his own. He nodded.

"Neither of you are married, is my memory correct? Well, no matter either way. It would please me to no end to have you both dine with my family tonight."

Gaius waited for their replies, then smiled. "Splendid! I will send slaves to your homes with the time and directions. See you this evening, then." He returned to his litter, now surrounded by the six lictors a serving praetor deserved, and began the walk back to his domus, to tell Aurelia and his children the double good news, of his promotion and their dinner guests.

Cauno was a decent sort. It would be nice to have him dine with him. But Decio...Well, perhaps soon enough he would be more than just an acquaintance.

 

[Anael]

Marcus Scribonius Decio Dodonicus

His father, originally Marcus Scribonius Decio and currently Marcus Scribonius Decio Dodonicus the Elder, earned his victory title when crushing the Greek city of Dodona during the revolt against Sulla, a campaign and personal connection that made him very rich and earned him the consulship during Sulla's dictatorship. Marcus the Elder met Gaius Marcius Nerva when Gaius served under him as his adjutant during the war against Spartacus, and they kept in touch since, the noble and conservative breaking ties with Gaius when the latter allied himself with Caesar.

Marcus the Elder died just prior to the end of the Gallic Wars, leaving his son, already having made a decent way up the cursus honorum, with his family riches, name, and influence. Marcus the Younger was neutral, and was spurned to join the Caesarian bloc when Pompey and the optimates who pulled his strings blocked his attempt to be elected Praetor or refund his debts from his aedileship. Marcus the younger had always been impartial and neutral, something uncommon in Rome, since the boni were always trying to get one up on each other. Marcus’s path up the cursus honorum had been quick so far and the task of proving his commitment to public service. He had held each office for the minimum time and was hoping for bigger and better things, until Pompey refused. His position as Curule Aedile gave him the protection of two lectors. But he was bored of being responsible for buildings and festivals, he wanted more, and Praetor was the next step on the ladder. Soon he thought.

When Pompey refused his attempt to be elected praetor, Marcus the younger decided to secretly side with Caesar, and when the time came he would join his cause. Today had been the day. Pompey had fled and Caesar had called a meeting of the Senate. Throughout the meeting, Marcus had gently fingered the iron Senatorial ring he wore, he was from an old patrician family and so did not wear a new gold one. His toga praetexta had been prepared by his slaves until it looked new, a pure white with the broad Tyrian purple border. Within two hours, Caesar had been declared defender of the Republic and his fathers old friend Gaius Marcius Nerva was appointed praetor peregrinus. Marcus had never understood why his father had lost contact with this boni but since his father was no longer around to tell the tale, Marcus decided that a renewed friendship with Gaius was in order. As the meeting broke up, Marcus strode towards Gaius, head up a broad smile on his face.

“Gaius Marcius Nerva! I am well, thank you, and my father had reached his time, it was no great surprise. Finally I am free to associate myself with who I feel I can, and not who he thinks I can. And you, 2 years from Rome and on your return you are instantly reinstated into the Senate as Praetor. Congratulations.”

The proper pleasantries were exchanged and Marcus mentioned to Gaius that he had seen his beautiful wife Aurelia around Rome, looking after herself very well while he had been gone and how were his two daughters?


“Sadly not Gaius, do you think my father could ever make up his mind about who I could and could not meet and see while he was around? He was always so afraid of destroying alliances and friendships.

“I would be more than happy to accept your invitation to dine.”

 

[Randolph]

Marcellus

Dinner with the Legate – now appointed Praetor Peregrinus no less! Eagerly Marcellus hurried home to prepare for the evening. This would be an excellent chance to further ingratiate himself with Caesar’s staunchest ally.

The previous night his mother and Philo had expressed concern over the strength of his bonds to the new faction. After all, his uncles had all served and won distinction under Pompey in Africa and in the east. Cornelia, his mother, had been at pains to point out the importance, to all of them, of the choices that were now made, as events gathered pace and the Republic spiralled, inevitably, toward war.

Marcellus had no doubts until the two of them - his mother and his father’s most trusted servant - planted them in his heart! But this invitation to dine was a further sign, yet another token of the esteem in which he was held after his service in Gaul and the value that they now placed upon him. Who knows, he thought, who else might be there at the dinner? Surely his place and a promotion to the very highest rank under the Republic’s newest Defender were now assured.

Marcellus remembered also that Gaius Nerva had two daughters - a flame haired vixen, Marcia and the young Aurelilla a shy but exquisite dove. He smiled with pleasure at the thought of what further charm and delight the coming evening may hold.

 

[LadyAria]

Marcia Nervonis

Her mother’s words bit like an icy winter wind. Marcia turned down her eyes to hide the frustration. Then, she kissed her father dutifully while mentally digesting what had transpired. Aurelilla had once again assigned herself the role of perpetual victim. In Marcia’s attempt to make her sister shine, the little brat had tried to make it appear as an attack. No wonder they were no longer close. Aurelilla took every olive branch offered and snapped it her face. The idea bloomed in her mind that possibly an evil spirit had inhabited the body of her once beloved sister. Quickly, Marcia licked her finger and rubbed it behind her ear to banish the thought.

With her shoulders straight and head high, Marcia walked out of the triclinium without looking back at her family. Her parents wanted to be alone to copulate. She sensed the tension over the meal. Sighing, she pursed her lips wondering why he would still bother. Aurelilla destroyed her mother’s precious womanhood with her cursed birth. Not only had she failed to be a boy, she had jeopardized mother’s future by taking away the blessing of her birthing other heirs. Marcia conscious swiftly reminded her that she failed to be a boy as well. She too had failed her parents. The Gods had been unkind. Thankfully, her father was not as practical as most prudent men.

She strolled into her dormitoria in a poor mood. Immediately, she extended her arms out to the side to be undressed. She did not speak, but snapped her fingers. From the corner of the room, her slave hastily ran to her and began loosing her robes. The girl, someone her mother had given her a few years ago, was too slow for Marcia’s taste and often smelled of the unpleasant food their kind ate. Only due to Marcia’s constant lectures did the girl even properly wash. Her course black hair had thankfully been shaved off, after some prompting, to control lice they can carry. Marcia stared at the back of her stubbled head while the slave worked the golden pin loose.

“What is taking so long?” she hissed. “Are you drunk?”

The slave whose hands were already shaking jumped at her voice making a tiny cut into Marcia’s shoulder. The milky white skin split bubbling blood. Instantly, Marcia howled throwing the servant across the floor. The slave’s head smacked against the marble floor with a loud thud. Her black foreign eyes fluttered shut over golden skin. Marcia walked over to her form and kicked her foot to wake her.

“Get up,” she commanded. “I am tired. You hurt me. You should apologize. You are a VERY bad slave.”

The foot just flopped about loosely to no avail. When she failed to respond after harder kicks, Marcia snarled at her laziness and stepped over the unconscious body to call for help. Maybe she could trade Aurelilla, she thought. Marcia was always stuck with the lazy slaves. It was no wonder Romans conquered their countries.

She was pleased when an elder woman finally came to finish the task of dressing her for slumber. The older ones never made the mistake of making eye contact. The woman with white hair, also, cleaned away the blood from the open wound on her shoulder and covered it a white salve that smelled like sweet. Displeased with the damage, Marcia fretted over the impact on her beauty over the next few days. Surely, her father will have guests and possibly potential husbands in the house. That slave had always had it out for her. It was probably an intentional act to prevent her from finding a suitable match. The girl was worthless. Her father should have let her die of exposure or whatever it was their kind did to reject their young. She truly was not fit to draw breath. Marcia would speak to Mother tomorrow about trading her.

When she finally settled into her bed, Marcia closed her eyes, but the joyous screams of her mother’s pleasure echoed off her darkened walls. She frowned slightly to hear her mother so undignified. It was cruel the way the act twisted men into beasts. The grunts and moans of coupling were not far removed from the sound of horses mating in the field. Rolling over, she wondered what it would be like to accept a man’s seed. She had seen the graffiti on the city walls. People made much ado over the act. Even the Gods were not above engaging in idiocy for the sake of sex.

When the night finally quieted, sleep came and with sleep, the dream of Caesar came to visit her again. He was decadently handsome and chiseled like a statue of Adonis. Dark curls twisted over his sun-kissed skin made her ache. The sun rose over the laurels on his noble head haloing him in bright light. His brilliant crimson robes were a trimmed in the finest gold. There was a great platform with many men, but no one cared for anyone but the great one. He stood over the crowd. The frenzied Romans pressed forward to get closer to the living God. They pushed roughly against her body forcing her toward him. The pressure was unbearable, but still she reached to for his touch. Then, his head turned to look at her and his eyes were two blinding lights. He mouthed words to her she could not understand. Then, he reached for her. His hand wrapped firmly around her wrist pulling her effortlessly from the crowd to him. Like a feather, she was weightless as his strong arms snapped him to his taunt chest. The instance her breast struck him, she realized she was naked, wet and pressed helplessly against the warmth of his powerful form. The slightest touch of his fingers made her moan. She begged to be his queen, but he laughed instead torturing her satin folds with his fingers. Her body convulsed in ecstasy as the crowd roared for their king.


*****************

The next morning she awoke in a pleasant mood and her muscles unusually relaxed. The elderly slave from the night before returned to dress her for the morning. The slave’s white hair smelled of bread and fresh citrus. Choosing a simple white gown, Marcia ordered the fabric to be arranged to cover her damaged shoulder. Her mother would see the wound soon enough. Her hair still plaited tightly from the day before only required restacking to drawl it from her shoulders. In a much less time then the day before, Marcia looked flawless. Deciding her mother would be tired, she elected a private breakfast of fruit in her room. She did not want to bother her mother or see her sister. On most days, she tired to stay her distance except for meals and when called upon for assistance. So, after her plate was clean, she gathered a collection of Greek Poetry and went to the exquisite Atrium. The sunlight would be perfect for hours of reading or the appearance of reading. She wanted time to gather her thoughts. On a the carved bench near her favorite statue of a crouched cupid aiming his bow, she would practice polite conversation, appropriate compliments, and daydream about being the wife of one of the most powerful men in Rome. When lost in thought, she would recline on the bench and stroke the painted marble wings enjoying the curve of the layered feathers. The poetry would be forgotten for daydreams.

 

[Lady_Mornington]

Aurelia Marcia

It was indeed a blessing to wake up in her husband's arms again. Aurelia only now realised just how empty her life had been with Gaius serving in Gaul, yet she quickly banished the selfish sentiments from her mind. It was his duty as Paterfamiias to further the interests of the Marciae Nervae. And his committment to Caesar had indeed served them well. Yet as she was sitting in the atrium, sharing his breakfast, she couldn't help but offer quiet thanks to Bellona for having kept him safe during the campaign, and to Caesar for bringing him home.

Thus it was not surprising as Hermes announced the arrival of the delegation of lictors, conveying Caesar's orders that he were to report to him in the Senate. Receiving a kiss from her husband as he and his creature Solon left, no doubt wanting to attend to the necessities before entering the Senate. The auspices were indeed good, and with the latest political developments taking place in the wake of the exodus of the Pompeian faction, Gaius' star seemed all the more likely to rise.

An elevation in status, now that was not something to frown upon, and it promised the possibilities of further ingratiate the Marciae Nervae with the highest echelons of Roman society. No doubt others would seek closer alliances with them promised the opportunities for good marriages for Marcia and Aurelilla both. Gaius would surely keep a keen eye on eligble candidates, and so would Aurelia. There were a number of suitable men within her social network, although it was prudent to allow Gaius to offer his suggestions of course. Then again, as far as her daughters were concerned, Gaius seemed happy enough to take her advice into consideration. Marriage was a political necessity, but that did not mean that they ought to give the girls away to the first suitor who came knocking. No some discrimination was called for, especially during times like this.

Aurelia was interrupted by the woman Desma, who informed her about the occurences of the previous night. Apparently Marcia had been just a shade too strict with her girl, and the poor creature was still in bed, suffering from this or that ailment as a result. She pursed her lips as she asked the Greek woman to fetch her daughter. It was not the act as such that bothered her, one must be strict with the slaves lest they turned insolent or lazy. Besides the girl clearly hadn't met with her oldest daughter's demands, and that was of course no fault of Marcia's. Still one ought not to act like a tyrant, to discipline one's slaves yes, that was all very well and served to underline a point but when the wretches were incapacitated it provided a problem rather. The girl would be terrified for her mistress, and a terrified slave seldom made for a good servant. In the worst of circumstances such a creatured could very well be a danger to the mistress or master.

She looked up as Marcia entered the atrium, graceful as ever, and after having offered the customary salutations, she took a seat opposite from Aurelia. 'Best be lenient' she thought before addressing her daughter.

"I heard about the dreadful business with that girl of yours my dear." She nodded for one of the servants to pour Marcia a glass of lemon water "Now you must not think me mean for saying so, nor that I do not symphathise with your reaction, yet a word of the wise." She sipped from her own glass as she fixed Marica with her emerald stare, watching how her own eyes was being reflected in hers. "It looks bad if one acquires a reputation as a terror with the slaves. I understand that the girl was somewhat simple, and the fault was mine for thinking that she could reform her ways. We will have to get you a new one, and as for her," Aurelia looked at Marcia again "I don't see that she will be much use to anyone right now. Anyway, we might as well be on our way, but I want you to think about this on a grander scale my dear. Slaves are simple, that is in their nature, true there are those with special skills, such as Solon or Desma, yet at the end of the day they are nothing but talking tools. Someday soon you will run your own household, and as such you will be the undisputed mistress of the servants. I do not say what particular path you should follow then but I ask you to consider. Would you rather rule by fear, or being just? A slave that's been beaten too often makes for a terrible servant, and a terrible servant is a potential danger to you and your family."

Aurelia nodded to stress her point before she continued. "As I was saying, you will become the mistress of your own household within a forseeable future my dear, and your husband will be one of some standing in society. Of that we can be certain. With such a position there are numerous things to consider, among them the safety of your husband as well as your family. One must be vigilant at all times, and keeping your slaves happy and respectful will make it harder for anyone of your husband's enemies to use them against you or him."

Seeing Marcia nod and agreeing with the wisdom of her words made her smile. 'Juno and Venus how I love that child'. Aurelia felt the blush colouring her cheek at her thoughts, and coughed to hide the sudden show of emotion. Marcia was her favourite, of that there no doubts, yet to express such a sentiment. Never. Impartial in her relation to her children, giving them an equal amount of affections and attention. That was the only way to properly handle it. Shaking her head, to clear her mind of the treacherous thoughts before she spoke again.

"Why don't you get dressed and then we'll go out." Nodding to Marcia and summoning Desma to have the litter prepared.

****

The streets were less crowded than usual which made for a swift transport than would it usually. The covered litter was being carried by eight men, and the pace, although brisk, did not make for any unpleasantness. Aurelia lay back against the soft pillows, the deep green of her stola contrasting nicely to her pale complexion. Looking across to where Marcia was laying, looking the image of perfection. The same pale complexion and emerald eyes as her, yet with Gaius' finely carved features. Venus had indeed smiled upon her. Usually the two of them had ample enough matters that they discussed, fashion, social gossip even politics, yet now it seemed that there was a wall erected between them. Aurelia had not been unaware of the way that her oldest daughter had reacted to the tension between Gaius and herself the previous night, and she suspected that it may be the cause for both her silence as well as the way she lashed out against the slave.

"Tell me my dear, do you disapprove of your father's affection for me? Or is it rather the lusts that appalls you? Or perhaps it has more to do with Aurelilla. Do you think I favour her? That I allow her to take liberties that I would never grant you?"

It was blunt a question but one which needed to be asked. Aurelia had always been able to be honest with Marcia, even when matters such as this were concerned. She listened as her daughter began her explanations as to her somewhat sullen appearances.

They were humbly interrupted by Desma, who informed them that they had reached the market. The litter lowered and the men standing respectfully aside to allow them to exit and look at the spectacle that was the slave market.

Smiling at Marcia as an idea took shape, and carrying out a whispered conversation with her own creature before turning to address her daughter again. "I shall let you chose yourself my dear, but I ask you to take into consideration the qualities that you are most likely to need with the slave. A pretty face is always nice, but does it weigh heavier than a skilled hand? A young one that you can train or an older one who knows the ropes?" She smiled again and gave her hand a squeeze. "Now off you go before the good ones are all sold."

 

[LadyAria]

Marcia Nervonis

Walking into the atrium, Marcia felt her mother before she saw her. The whole air about the woman had changed even the wave in her hair seemed looser. Her spirit vibrated with the energy of a much younger woman. The two years had made her hard and now her father was making her soft again. He was breaking away the shell of the woman Marcia had revered. Saluting respectfully, Marcia took her seat like any other morning. However, the distance between them was greater then a table. Swiftly, Marcia rearranged her dress over the wound lest her mother see the damage. Her mother diplomatically began in on the importance of reputation and the gossipy ways of the necessary inferiors. The little heathen must be laid up in the slave quarters engaged in the sloth that was so befitting her type. She smiled lightly with her eyes all a sparkle for her mother. Marcia wanted to cry for loss of her friend. The woman before her made assumptions and did not even ask if she had been hurt or what had happened. Mother was right about the danger of slaves. She nodded while regaining her composure. It would not suit her mother to see her so emotional over a mere infraction.

“I’d rather rule by having people follow, Mother,” she answered seriously. “You have taught me well. Trust I hold your words as high as the wisdom of the Gods and I would never knowingly betray you or our family name. My house will make you proud. My slaves will be fine.”

Marcia nodded trying to catch her mother’s eyes and gage her response. She hated to think what the slaves told her about the prior evening. Curses on that slave and the wretched wound that birthed her into this world! She smiled at her mother obediently with a begging forgiveness in her eyes. Her mother retreated before responding in a lighter tone.

"Why don't you get dressed and then we'll go out.”

****
Laying back on the pillows, Marcia enjoyed the gentle rock of the litter and wondered what father was doing. His absence was noticeable from the house. Men always did the grandest things. War, politics and education abroad were the joys of being a man. Father’s presence would cruelly remind her of her limited place in the world. The Gods made a mistake not blessing her with the credit of a male anatomy. Hopefully, her marriage would grant her with the extension of power her birth had denied her. She did not care if he was comely fellow or even personable. She just needed him to be ambitious, fertile and open to female influence. Her rambling thoughts stopped when she felt her mother’s scrutiny. In that moment, she realized that silence filled the air between them.

"Tell me my dear, do you disapprove of your father's affection for me? Or is it rather the lusts that appalls you? Or perhaps it has more to do with Aurelilla. Do you think I favour her? That I allow her to take liberties that I would never grant you?"

Marcia frowned not knowing which issue to address first. How could she tell her mother the true issue if she was not certain herself?

“Love is a dangerous endeavor, mother. It is unfitting for a Roman marriage. The passions father feels for you make him weak. His enemies know the unnatural attachment he has for you and will seek to strike at you first to destroy him. It is just cruel the way life drains away from you when he is not here. I just…”

The slave interrupted her response to inform them that they had reached the market. The litter lowered and their men stepped out of the way to wait for the domina’s exit. Marcia mouth closed on the words she wished to speak, and a smile replaced her concern. She should not trouble her mother with such thoughts. A smart woman knows when not to take a stand regardless of how she felt. Some campaigns would never be won. Taking her hand, Aurelia whispered in her ear while squeezing her hand.

"I shall let you chose yourself my dear, but I ask you to take into consideration the qualities that you are most likely to need with the slave. A pretty face is always nice, but does it weigh heavier than a skilled hand? A young one that you can train or an older one who knows the ropes? Now off you go before the good ones are all sold."

Marcia brought a veil about her face to hide her gentle skin from the cruel sun. Only her emerald eyes emoted the sheer giddiness of the women inside the beaded sheer. Stepping out into the slave market, the thrill of choice made her feel high. Her mother knew how to work her daughter better then anyone in the world. Marcia glided into the market with her entourage demanding the attention of the lesser citizens and denying them hers. The dealer stood out in his gaudy robes and overdressed jewels sweating like a pig into his silk. Marcia had long asserted that wealth should be a privilege of birth as the peasants were so poorly suited to handle the burden of money. The slave dealer was a perfect example of her personal philosophy as her rudely ogled her body. Manners were wasted on their type.

“I need to purchase one female slave as a personal attendant,” she looked the man directly in the eye. “I’d prefer someone with experience. Do you have any recent estate purchases?”

The thin fabric clung to her soft breast. In her excitement, her nipples had swollen to two dark rose nubs stabbing against her dress. The large shadows of her areoles only added to the issue. She crossed her arms to draw away his eyes, but the action only served to pucker the alabaster mounds leaving the man focused on her breast beyond distraction. Marcia weighed her options. Her mother would not be pleased with another altercation. Therefore, Marcia elected another approach.

“I’m sure a man of your esteem would only carry the best Rome had to offer.,” she cooed softly uncrossing her arms. “I’m sure your pleasing nature would only seek to satisfy my every desire. Show it to me, your best, I need someone experienced who will know what I need before I even do. You understand?”

The man seemed startled and confused by her requested. Then, he swelled to his full height pushing out his chest like a proud rooster. While he did not touch her, he stayed very close to her as he walked her through a line of cages packed with bodies. The smell made her eyes water and stomach lurch. Men, women and children clung to the bars with terror in their eyes and the sharp bones of starvation cutting lines of filth in neat rows across their backs. In one cage, the woman did not look to them, but rocked quietly. Curious, Marcia glanced over her shoulder to catch the sight of a dead child in her arms. She pointed at the woman due to shock, but the slave trader mistook her reaction as a request. Promptly, he responded by pulling the woman from the cage and throwing back her expired offspring. Marcia did not correct him, but turned to look at the slight woman who smelled of human rot. The ghost in her eyes chilled Marcia’s blood. She had to have her.

“Does she have a mate?” she asked. “Is she paired with another?”

“Ah, yes, she came with an older woman when purchased and the young female child. I found later the old one is not fit for work, but the child…well…I had meant to remove the body, but…”

Marcia waved away his excuses.

“I will purchase the three of them at cost,” Marcia answered dropping the coins into his hand. “Burn the child’s body and send the ash with the old one. Please have them dropped at the back entrance.”

Marcia had taken her mother words to heart earlier. While she would never be as giving with their kind as others in her house, she could inspire loyalty in other ways. She would keep them together.

*******
The messenger brought word of the evening’s dinner guest shortly after their arrival home. Immediately, her mother set forth in her methodical way of arranging her house for proper exhibition. Aurelia divided duties between the slaves to prepare the house, the food, the musical talent and even her daughters. With no time to be wasted, Marcia and Aurelilla were whisked away to prepared to impress potential husbands with carefully crafted beauty. The man-servants brought in new cloth to sew the finest new robes for her husband. Aurelia even surrendered her directional duties in the sufficient time to be polished for their guest. Like Aurelia herself, her house and family was flawless when dinner hour rang. They lined up for introduction to the expected guest. Marcia shined with pride. The house was beautifully dressed for guests and the smell of sweet meats lingered in the air with expensive incenses A golden harp played in the background making it feel like a beautiful dream to Marcia. Her future husband could be walking through that door.

 

[magbeam]

Gaius Marcius Nerva

Gaius's eyes idly drifted over the streets of the City as his sedan chair carried him back through the pomerium into Rome proper, back towards his house. He noted that the streets seemed to be making a bit of a return to normalcy already. Rather soon for those who fled to have made their way back, but they would soon enough, now that those who remained behind saw that Caesar's army had not looted or burned or pillaged or raped or proscribed. Caesar's men meant stability and prosperity and a return to normalcy. Caesar was no Sulla.

It was good for him to remember that. Gaius had told himself that over and over again when he had made that fateful decision those weeks ago to cross the Rubicon, to stay loyal to the General and not follow the examples of Quintus Cicero or Titus Labienus. The fact that Caesar allowed such a choice to his men upon such a momentous occasion should have been evidence enough, but still, deep down inside, Gaius had had to wonder. However, with the City in such sterling shape, and seeing the care Caesar was taking to preserve the constitution and its governance of the Republic and its affairs, he knew he had no need to worry. Caesar was no king. Caesar was no Sulla. The Republic had truly been saved from the optimates and not seized from one band of petty tyrants and placed into the hands of a greater one.

Still, no reason to dwell on that now, not when he was once more climbing the rungs of the cursus honorum - and much sooner than he had hoped, and with no money or favors expended on his behalf. Certainly his optimism towards the new regime was not predicated solely on that development, Gaius was too honest for that, of course. But still...Caesar had asked for him personally, had made him praetor peregrinus over all of the other, no doubt more numerous than seemed apparent, possible candidates. Gaius glowed with a faint sheen of pride at that. Caesar had seen what others had not. His star would be rising, and soon.

When the litter and his band of lictors arrived at the domus, it was just as a pair of another two sedan chairs were leaving, empty. Gaius frowned as he stepped out, Hermes opening the gates for them, wide-eyed at his master's new entourage. His frown was more one of curiosity than anger. He wasn't the type to insist that his womenfolk stay indoors when not supervised. And they had money and status, and such things were virtually required to be flaunted in Rome to be taken seriously.

Aurelia was in the atrium, and turned towards him, her perfectly-formed brows forming an aristocratically-unspoken query at why there were a mass of lictors tracking dust into her immaculate house. No doubt she was unamused, but like a good wife said nothing to embarrass him in front of strangers. Gaius smiled at her, walking over to kiss her on the cheek - this time making him restraining himself in front of the strangers, from what he wished to do to greet her properly. He did love her so.

"These men are mine now, my dove. I imagine they'll be at my side for some time," he said in response to her unasked question, trying to hide the pride from his voice and failing somewhat. He straightened up. "I am praetor once more! Not just any, but praetor peregrinus. Caesar arranged the vote by the Senate." He gave her a quick overview of the day's events, ending with, "I am telling you, my dear, Caesar is incomparable. That man will save the Republic, will be praised in a thousand years alongside Aeneas and Brutus. The first Brutus, that is...Tell me, did you and one of the girls go out today?"

He listened to the explanation of the day's events of his wife, as the lictors took their positions quietly, at the front of the atrium and by the gate of the domus. At the end of Aurelia's tale, Gaius smiled.

"Marcia...what a dear thing she is. What a wife and mother she'll make! Speaking of which..." Gaius looked around conspiratorially, making sure that his daughters weren't nearby. Slaves and lictors of course didn't matter, and he wasn't even sure if he should tell Aurelia this, at least not now. But he had already let it slip, and he knew she would pry it out of him anyways, and he was excited enough to want to tell it to someone, truth be told. And Aurelia was as close a companion to him as anyone else, be it male or female or slave, had ever been.

"I ran into Marcus Scribonius Decio Dodonicus the Younger at the Senate today." His voice was quiet, and he used the excuse to lean in close to Aurelia, inhaling the scent of her body before continuing. "I believe you met him once or twice, did you not? And his father, the old terror himself. I also ran into my old army tribune, Marcellus Flavius Cauno. A fine lad. I invited them both here for dinner tonight. They're both single, and if memory serves both no longer have parents, certainly not fathers any more at any rate. And, well..."

Gaius smiled, pausing for effect. "Cauno is a good sort. Good prospects, good family, served me well and chose Caesar when he had the chance. I'm thinking of adopting him. And as for young Dodonicus...well, you're familiar with his pedigree, his ties to the optimates, the oldest of the old nobiles. Naturally I'll need to see what he says and I haven't broached the subject to him yet, but...I think I may just have found a husband for Marcia."

Gaius closed his mouth, waiting to hear what she had to say. He was sure that he had made the right choices in both cases, and most men would consider him insane for wanting to hear Aurelia's opinion in the matter...but there it was.

 

[Randolph]

Marcellus

Marcellus arrived at the Nervae house. The high wall vanished into darkness and a thin rain had begun to fall so they were ushered quickly through the heavy-valved gate and into the sheltered court. Marcellus passed his sword in its worn leather sheath to his groom who vanished around the side of the house with the other servants.

"Please sir, this way..."

He was led past neat borders, silent fountains and shadowed statues to an open door from which light and warmth and music spilled.

"Welcome, Tribune, welcome..." Gaius Nerva clasped his forearm firmly, drawing him inside the vestibulum to introduce him to the family.

Marcellus removed his damp cloak and handed it to the waiting slave. Underneath, his tunic was Greek-style; mid-thigh length and a rich midnight-blue trimmed with ermine. His calf-length boots were of the palest, softest hide chased with silver wire.

He took the Lady Aurelila's hand and bowed his head.

"I am honoured to be a guest in your home, my Lady, and delighted to finally make your acquaintance. The daughters of your family are famed for their beauty and truly, my admiration is eclipsed only by my joy at your husband's good fortune. The Legate is a noble and generous friend and a valiant knight. You must be very proud."

She smiled and made suitable acknowledgement of his flattery. He could not help but notice the way that she bore herself, the proud lift of her chin, the long graceful curve of her neck. This was a lady indeed, he realised, and one he must treat with cautiously once the rehearsed and politely choreographed introductions were at an end.

Gaius moved him on to where his daughters stood, smiling demurely. He was introduced to Marcia first. She only met his eyes for the briefest instant but he felt the impact of those smouldering emerald fires; she was her mother's daughter. He greeted Aurelilla, the youngest, and caught his breath. She was every bit as beautiful as he remembered, dark-eyed with an alluring sadness that drew him, making him feel powerful and reckless.
Her hand was as small and delicate as a child's and it trembled slightly in his darkly scarred fist. He smiled at her with what he hoped was a warm and winning smile. Aurelilla blushed and lowered her gaze to the floor under the scrutiny of this dark and wolfish stranger.

Servants and slaves scurried. The sounds of harps, lyres and laughter drifted with the delicious aromas of richly spiced food from somewhere deeper in the house.
A cup, brimming with wine appeared in his hand as Gaius, clasping the other, led him beneath a vine-grown arch, down wide marble steps into the bright, gaily decorated atrium.

"Listen friends," he called into the sudden hush, "Listen, this is Tribunus Laticlavinus Marcallus Flavius Cauno, a trusted friend from the Legion." Quietly he began pointing out the various guests. "Now, you know Marcus Scribonius Decio the younger..."

Names and faces merged as they walked the marbled floor. Marcellus tried to keep his attention on the esteemed company in which he found himself rapidly immersed. There was an air of celebration. Talk was light and laughter un-forced as the wine flowed freely. However Marcellus's thoughts and his gaze were ever drawn to the lovely Aurelilla, hovering beneath the archway. In the light of the cressets, her low-cut diaphonous gown did little to conceal the charms of her nubile young body. On the occassions when her eyes met his, a delicious jolt coursed through him and his blood surged.

 

[Anael]

Marcus Scribonius Decio Dodonicus the Younger had spent all morning grooming himself so he looked his best to impress at the Marciae Nervae dinner he had been invited to. He never let anyone else help him apart from pass him what he needed. He had no idea who would be there, it may just be a few friends, but a few friends in Rome could mean 50 or 100 people and some of them may be superiors, people who could, would or may promote him. He knew that Gaius had served with Caesar closely and had no idea if the great man himself would be there.

He put on his senatorial toga, the bright white and deep tyrian purple border and with it his ring. He always wore his Iron Senatorial Ring, one that had been in his old patrician family for longer than he knew. A sign of his status. His dark red hair was long, but not by Roman standards. Some men shaved theirs off, others kept it short but most had long hair, down to their shoulders, held out of their eyes by a leather thong. Most men chose not to shave and kept a beard. Marcus’s was short and neat, trimmed every couple of days, ensuring his appearance was always immaculate.

When he was ready he departed his lonely residence, leaving his slaves under the watchful eyes of his man servant and climbed into his litter. Lying back on his pillows he swept his eyes over the people of Rome as his litter and licters made their way through the crowded streets. Many of the old patricians, equestrians and boni preferred to keep the curtains drawn and hide from the crowds. But this way he got to read them, judge the mood of the cities people.

Many of the streets of Rome looked the same, however the boni lived off the wider streets and all you could see of their Villas was the large wooden gates, closed tight to keep the peasants out, but a small window was open, with a watching servant looking out. On spotting the litter and licters he closed the window flap and the gates were opened. His slaves placed the litter down inside the neat courtyard, allowing him to get out before they disappeared around the corner, presumably to get drunk and play dice games. The courtyard had little Olive trees in the neat borders, a fountain and statues of Cupid, Mercury and Juno. The licters stayed by him until the gates were closed and then faded into the shadows with the praetors own around the compounds walls.

“Marcus Scribonius Decio Dodonicus the Younger” Gaius Macius Nervae boomed as he straightened himself up. Marcus had no idea why people still called him “the Younger”. His father had been “the Elder” but he was dead now and so the only Marcus Scribonius Decio Dodonicus was himself, and unless they started calling his father “Marcus Scribonius Decio Dodonicus the Dead One” he could not be just “Marcus Scribonius Decio Dodonicus”.

“Gaius Macius Nervae, how are you my friend. What a glorious home you have.”

Gaius led Marcus into his home and there waiting for him were the three ladies of the house. Aurelia was first in the line and Marcus took her hand, bowed his head

“Aurelia Marcia, your servant madam, how pleased I am to meet you, you are looking radiant tonight. An honour to be a guest in your wonderful home. I must apologise for not paying my respects to you whilst your Husband was away.”

Stepping to one side, half dragged by Gaius’ hand on his elbow he took the hand of Marcia, his eldest daughter and nodded his head.

“Marcia Nervonis, you have your mothers eyes, how beautiful you look tonight. Your father must be proud of you.”

He made to step sideways and found Gaius’ hand holding him in place, but it was too late, he had already released one hand and was reaching for the next.

“Aurelillia, how beautiful, you have grown up into the most beautiful woman. Your father must be proud of you too, I wonder if he recognised you on his return.”

The hand at his elbow propelled him away from the line of women and guided him towards several couches, with slaves gathered round holding fruit and drink for the guests. At this moment Gaius’ next guest arrived and he excused himself to greet the man.

 

[magbeam]

Gaius Marcius Nerva

Gaius smiled at Marcellus as the young man arrived first to the party. Impeccable timing of course - Gaius had expected nothing else of the man he was considering to be his son, after viewing his service in Gaul and the timing his military maneuvers had run to - for he had just finished dressing in a more comfortable, rather elegant tunic of a similar cut than the one he had worn last night. It felt wonderful to finally be able to be clean and warm and well-dressed, all while knowing one was safe. A gentleman before a soldier again, once more, as the gods and the mos maiorum both intended.

Gaius took Marcellus by the arm, guiding him to introduce his womenfolk, lined up in the atrium. He stood back for the introductions, smiling as he heard the young man's profuse ebullitions. "Oh come now, my dear boy, you overdo it, surely. You served in Gaul far longer than I. I insist you don't listen to this flattery, Aurelia, girls, I assure you that he is much more the hero than I." He accepted a cup of wine from a slave as he watched Marcellus introduce himself to his daughters, noting how Aurelilla flushed and lowered her eyes. What a lamb she was. He saw Aurelia's gaze flicker to their youngest, her mouth moving just a flicker downwards, and assumed the girl would soon be receiving another lecture on how to compose herself in public like a true noblewoman.

And his good cheer and choice of personalities to the side, Gaius was not entirely sure he liked the way Marcellus was looking at his prospective youngest sister.

Scribonius Dodonicus was next to arrive, accompanied by the two lictors his rank as curulean aedile granted him. He heard Hermes announce the young man's presence and hurried over to greet him.

"My young friend, welcome! Welcome indeed, my house is yours! I insist!" In more ways than the literal, let us hope, he added mentally; but it was not politic to say so at the moment, no matter how sanguine about the whole matter he couldn't help but feeling. With a repeat of Marcellus, Gaius took young Marcus by the arm, down the line of his womenfolk. The difference was his attempted pause before Marcia, the width his smile stretched to when they talked, how intently he took in Marcia's reaction. Sure, his hair was a somewhat unpropitious coloring and the beard looked somewhat Greek, but Marcus was not an unpleasant-looking fellow, and surely Marcia of all people would know to look beyond the exterior. Especially when said individual was a man, and one of her father's close companions at that.

However, too soon Marcus, ever the polite young gentleman, was moving on to Aurelilla. Never mind, Gaius resolved; he would make sure he and Marcia ended up close to each other on the triclinium couches for dinner, and nearby for the mingling afterwards.

"Shall we retire to the meal?" Gaius asked. "I believe Grumio - our kitchen slave and chief cook, you understand - has outdone even himself this evening with a fine goose stuffed with snail, grouse and garlic..."

"Domine!" Gaius turned to hear the voice of Hermes the gate-slave. "Domine! There...there is a man here to see you!"

Gaius paused, then sighed inwardly. "Please, continue on, my friends," he said, urging them on to the triclinium. "This will only take a second, I am sure." He began to walk towards the portus, not sure of that at all. He remembered all too well his past political jobs - individuals showing up at all manner of the night, petitioners, alleys, enemies, wheedlers, State officials and slaves...

"Gaius Nerva! As I live and breath! What's this, a party I wasn't invited to!"

...Mark Antony?

"Marcus...What a charm," Gaius said, half-sincerely as he was embraced by the older man, viewing over his broad shoulder Hermes rushing up, a look of terror on his face at not being able to do has duty and stave off unwelcome visitors. Gaius waved him back. It wasn't his fault he was unable hold back this veritable force of nature; and in any case, the rather intimate nature of this party notwithstanding, Antonius was still Gaius's friend. And a jocular entity in any case. "However did you find out about this little getogether of mine? Or is this visit purely a coincidence? State business, perhaps?"

"May all the gods strike me down if I sully myself with work after dark, my good man," Antonius said loudly, ignoring the fact that Sol was still not even touching the horizon. "No, no business. I just have a good nose for parties. Especially ones whispered about in the Senate. A pack of gossips that would put the Vestals to shame."

"Ah, I see," Gaius said, guiding his friend out of the atrium, towards the dining room. "And will your new wife be joining us? Fulvia, right?"

"Ah, Fulvia...A wet dream given form, let me tell you," Antonius said, thumping Gaius on the back for emphasis. "I left her lying in bed at home sweaty and sticky and with her Coan silk sheets wrapped in interesting ways around her. And the minx could have gone on for twice as long. Well, me, I'm all for that, but a breather is good too, so I told her I had some official business to take care of and to keep herself hot for when I returned. You know how government affairs get me bored. Imaginary ones most of all. But enough chitchat!" he boomed when they reached the triclinium.

As if an instinctive predator, almost without looking Antonius made his way towards Marcia and Aurelilla. "Well, I say, what have we here? Hello there, girls. Both single still, hmm? I just got divorced. A shame we hadn't met earlier. Although I would have hated to have had to choose among you. I usually do with women, but there's enough room in the marital bed for three. Keep that in mind if you ever get bored, lovelies."

His next target was Aurelia, stepping just a bit too close to her for Gaius's comfort. "Gaius, you devil, you never told me how beautiful a creature your wife is. Now I can see why you wouldn't shut up about her. If I knew she looked this fine, I would have raced you back here to claim her myself. Aurelia darling, should your husband die, do call on me and we'll get married."

 

[Esmeralda_Tate]

Aurelilla Nervonis

When the girls were dismissed up to their rooms after dinner the night their father returned home, Aurelilla felt sad and lonely. She had wanted to spend far more time with her beloved father, but she could feel the restless hunger between her parents. With a sigh she stood up, kissed him on the cheek and then walked up towards her room. Before she could enter however, she heard her sister talking with her slave and so she paused. Something wasn't right. The slave was doing something wrong and her sister was becoming quite cross with her. Hiding behind a door so she would remain unnoticed she continued to listen, and became alarmed by what had taken place. Marcia was always the more bolder one of the two but she didn't think it would come to this.

Aurelilla was a very sensitive girl, and it was not unusual for her to become upset at injustice. Of course she knew that slaves were slaves but she always made sure to treat her own personal slave with as much respect as she could. She rarely pestered the slightly older woman and when she did need things to be done she treated her as a human being. Some may call Aurelilla a fool for being as good to her slave as she was, but Aurelilla didn't care. She found that the more respect she gave her slave, the more the woman was apt to serve her with sincerity.

She didn't want to take a chance on getting caught so she quickly left and walked down the hall to her doorway where she found her slave waiting for her. She didn't want to be undressed by the woman tonight so she waved her hand and offered her a slight smile.

"Thank you for your offerings but tonight I shall undress myself. See you in the morning."

Her slave nodded and quietly left leaving her to her thoughts. Before too long she retired to her room and dressed in her sleeping gown before lying in her warm cozy bed. Staring up at the blank wall her mind raced and soon the sadness completely engulfed her. She began to weep softly so that noone would hear. She felt so alone in this house even though it was always bustling with people. She knew she didn't belong. She tried so hard to win the affections of her mother and sister but in the end she felt defeated.

She suddenly heard a noise echoing throughout the house. Lifting her head off the pillow she strained to hear. When she realized what it was her cheeks blushed in the darkened room. She could hear her mothers cries of pleasure as her parents were copulating. It sounded lovely and she couldn't help but wonder what it all felt like. So many times she laid in her bed thinking and wondering when her time would come. Would she ever meet a man who would do those things with her too? Only time would tell and she hoped that she would fall in love even though she was raised to believe that love was a sign of weakness.

Aurelilla soon fell fast asleep and dreamt heavily throughout the night. When it was time to rise the next morning she was tired and out of sorts. She opted to take a nice hot bath to awaken her senses followed by a leisure breakfast out in the garden. When she returned back into the house she realized that both her mother and sister were gone. This gave her the opportunity to write some more in her private journal and then get herself ready for the big night. She was well aware that there would be special guests, and of course she couldn't help but think that perhaps a future husband would be waiting there for her as well.

****************************************************************

Aurelilla was dressed in her finest with the help of her own personal slave this evening. As she made her way down to join the rest of her family, the aromas of the feast filled her nostrils giving her a pleasant feeling inside. She stood next to her sister who also looked just as lovely. The house was bustling with activity as all the slaves busied themselves with varied tasks. Aurelilla stood patiently as the beginnings of their guests began to arrive. She couldn't help but notice how handsome her father had looked tonight. She could tell by the look in her mothers eye that she was proud to call herself his wife.

Aurelilla watched as her father greeted a man bringing him inside for all to meet. Her eyes trailed the length of his body and she immediately shifted in her spot but before her mother could catch and correct her she quickly stood straight once again. He went down the line introducing himself. When he came to her she instantly felt wobbly at the knees. He suddenly took her hand in his and when she looked down she noticed just how large, strong, and powerful his grasp was. She couldn't help but tremble slightly.

"Good evening Sir. It is very nice to meet you".

She managed to say in her soft voice while looking up at him. He was a very handsome man and she felt her heart race in her chest as he smiled at her. She was beginning to feel things inside that she never experienced before. Out of nervousness she quickly looked down while her cheeks turned a pretty crimson color.

When he left her side she took a deep breath and managed to look up again only to find another man entering her home. This man had longer hair with a neatly trimmed beard. She greeted him kindly and noticed that he seemed to linger as he shook her hand. He spoke wonderful words to her telling her how beautiful she was and again her cheeks flushed turning almost the same color as his hair.

"Thank you Sir. You are very kind". She stated and smiled warmly. She didn't know what to do with all this attention. She rarely received it from anybody let alone a male.

She was relieved when the pressure was off her for a bit and she let her eyes wander around the room finding Marcellus as he spoke with her father. Bringing her hand up to her hair she began to curl a strand around one of her fingers in a nervous gesture but that soon got the attention of Marcellus and their eyes locked. She smiled and her dark eyes sparkled. She had a very innocent pure way about her, a charm that seemed to draw people in.

They were then distracted when yet another man came to their door and she waited in her spot to welcome him. Mark Antony made his way about the room introducing himself and Aurelilla couldn't believe it when she heard the things he was saying. Her ears burned at his words and she squirmed slightly in her spot. He was talking in a very provacative way with not only her and Marcia, but also with her mother. She weas speechless and kept her eyes low afraid of what would happen if she dared meet his gaze. Instead she sought out the other two men from before wondering what they were doing and if the slaves were offering them refreshments.

Thats when she realized that her mother was staring at her rather sternly. She caught her breath and remained still. From the look in her mothers eye she knew that she would be lectured about something tonight. She didn't want to cause any problems so she smiled and then nodded standing obediently in her spot.

 

[Lady_Mornington]

Aurelia Marcia

Aurelia had observed her daughter's decision with great interest, and even though Marcia thought herself subtle in the way she applied her feminine charms it was plain that the girl; no the young woman Aurelia corrected herself, had come to realise just how to utilise her every means in order to obtain her objectives. She made a mental note to further discuss the matter with Marcia.

Following her daughter as she made her way along the cages containing the wretched specimens that the merchant had for sale. The stench of sweat, excrement and death was almost like a physical force in it's own right, and Aurelia was thankful for the perfumed hankerchief that that Desma had provided her with. The Greek woman walked a pace or so in front of Aurelia, keeping the Plebs from getting to close to her, as well as keeping a keen eye trained on Marcia.

Her daughter suddenly stopped, inclinining her head in the direction of a young female, huddling on the filthy floor of the cage, cradling what must be a dead child. It seemed that the pitiful creature was given a cursory examination, and to Aurelia's mind she seemed to be a waste of money. Gods knew from where she hailed, it could be either Gaul or Germany and Juno be her witness, the slaves acquired from those places were little more than animals. Still it would be up to Marcia to make the selection, even if it would most likely end with yet another broken creature. Aurelia sought Desma's eye, and the Greek woman made a show of cocking her eyebrow, indicating that the purchase seemed most likely to be simple and as such become little more than a nuisance. Still it was for Marcia to take full responsibiility, and given the girl that had previously served as her personal attendant, this Germanii or Gaullish creature may just be an improvement.

She motioned for the girl to be brought closer to her, refraining from touching her as Marcia closed the deal, provoking a surprised furrow to crease Aurelia's brow. Why buy more than she needed? She would have to discuss that with her as well. Still the choice of the girl did not seem too bad. A few good scrubbings, and she would look decorative, although her demeanour bespoke a less than agile mind. Not that it was a necessary trait in most slaves, and even most bodyslaves could get a way with being a few Sestercii short of the proverbial Denar. Best see what Marcia would do to whip her into shape.

The merchant agreed to have the slaves delivered later, and hopefully the man would have enough sense to have them scrubbed and combed for lice. Who knew what pests such creatures carried with them? For all Aurelia knew, the lands to the north of the Italian peninsula were inhabited by barbarian peoples that differed little from the wild beasts that roamed the endless forests north of the Alps. The thought making her shiver. What kind of life did such people have? And why did they cling to their ways of life with such ferocity? Surely Rome meant light and order in an otherwise dark and chaotic world.

Thus the ride back to the Marciae Nervae residence was a silent one. Aurelia's mind occupied with the thoughts of her daughter's motives, but also immense pride in her abilities. Her daughter was gifted, no blessed rather, with the heart and mind of a man, and had Venus and the Fates decided that she would have been born one then the name Marciae Nervae would forever be carved into the annals of history. Then again, with the right husband then surely Marcia would be able to outshine Aurelia, of that she was certain. There was still so much that she needed to tell her still and it hastened to do so before she would leave her father's house. She felt a momentary stab of pain to her heart as she thought of that day. Aside from Gaius, Marcia was her closest confidant, and more to the point, the child that she would forever value the most.

No good came from trying to understand the purposes that the Parcae had decided for each and every being, yet sometimes Aurelia couldn't help but wonder why she had been cursed in this way. She had been a good daughter to her father, a devoted wife to Gaius and a reasonable mother to her children. She was pious, and had revered Diana as she grew up and after her transition into womanhood her devotion had been passed onto Juno as it should. She revered the Lares and Di Penates. Aurelia sighed inwardly as the litter bearers put them down in the courtyard of the the Marciae Nervae residence, no good would come of it, nor was she able to change her destiny. When even Father Jove was subject to the Parcae, what could she, a mere mortal do to change it?

Aurelia was brought back to the present as the litter-bearers gently put the litter down in the courtyard of the Marciae Nervae residence, and allowing the ladies of the household to exit. Turning to Marcia and watching the expression of acute readiness on her face. No doubt her daughter was eager to receive her new finds. Nodding to the question unasked, thus leaving Marcia to go about her business as Aurelia herself withdrew to the atrium. Laying back on one of the couches as she let her eyes wander across the small pool, watching the ripples on its surface as drops of rain fell on it.

So much had happened in such a short space of time, yet the auspices were good. Gaius star would continue to rise, her daughters would marry suitable men, and grow into respectable Roman wives. Despite all this, Aurelia still felt a tiny flicker of fear. Fear that Gaius may yet leave her. With a new position came the need to secure it, be it by the sword or by alliances. What if he decided to divorce her? There were enough women from the Equestrian families who would be more than willing to enter into a marriage with a man of his standing, and from such a union could come both coin and more importantly, a son and heir to the Marciae Nervae.

Aurelia was interrupted in her rather sad reveries by the sound of boots echoing through the house, and as she got up she found herself looking at her husband, striding purposefully inside the atrium with an escort of Lictors. She gracefully got up from the couch, the frown at the way the men dragging dirt and dust into her house barely visible, as she was greeted with a kiss from Gaius. He recounted the events of the day, his pride and apparent joy, readily discernable at the title bestowed on him. He continued to recount that he had invited guests to dine with them that very evening. The reasons being obvious; Marcus Scribonius Decio Dodonicus the Younger’s name carried weight, and should a settlement be reached between Gaius and him, then Marcia’s future was secured.

Yes her daughter would probably be pleased with the prospects, not that her opinion mattered as such, but it was always easier for a young woman to be a dutiful and virtuous wife if she didn’t object too much to the match. Besides, apart from being of a good standing, immensely rich, Marcus Scribonius was also rather young. Something that would sit well with Marcia, at least that was what Aurelia hoped for. His other guest, did not elicit the same elation. Marcellus Flavius Cauno. Of a reasonably good family, impeccable record as a Tribune, and apparently a man close to her husband’s heart. Yet the fact that he would possibly enter the family would only serve to underline her own abilities to consummate her marriage.

Aurelia chided herself as soon as the thought had taken root in her mind. Surely it was for the good of the Marciae Nervae, and should Gaius name him his legal son and heir, then the risk of a divorce would be less apparent than if he didn’t. She mouthed a short prayer of thanks to Juno before turning to her husband.

“Surely the Gods favour you Mea Vita, and we shall of course make provisions that our esteemed guests are welcomed with all appropriate measures that comes with their rank and standing. I’ll have the girls make their arrangements as well.”

She felt his lips briefly touching her cheek, and the warmth of the previous night returning with full force to assail her again. It was a weakness, Marcia had been right in her assessment. Love made both men and women weak, oblivious to the harsh realities of the world, and yet.

Yet there was nothing she could do about it, nor did she want to change the way she felt then. She looked down, gently intertwining her fingers with his as she spoke next, trying to answer him in a way that would both convey her own sentiments as well as carrying the necessary respects for his authority and judgement.

“I’m certain that Marcus Scribonius will make an excellent husband for Marcia. With a name like that and such ancestry then our daughter will be very happy with a marriage. As for Marcellus Flavius.” She bit her lip before continuing “I know of his reputation as a soldier, that he comes from a good family and that you hold him dear. If he has merited such high praise from you then I am certain that he will do you honour as your son.”

She kissed him again before excusing herself. There was so much to see to and so little time in which to arrange it all. Calling for Desma and having the Greek woman summon the key servants. Hermes, the cook and some of the others. A menu was being drawn up, a dress was being prepared and the house being swept yet again to make it sparkle. Appearances counted for much and Aurelia would be damned and twice damned should her husband’s friends find her house in disorder.

A few hours later she was standing with her daughters in the vestibulum, awaiting the guests. Marcellus Flavius was the first to arrive, his manners impeccable, yet there was something about him that was slightly off-putting. However the sentiment could just as easily have been a result of her own fears, and she replied in much the same manner as he had greeted her.

“Marcellus Flavius, I am equally pleased with seeing you as our guest. My husband has told us a lot about you and we are of course eager to hear more about your time in Gaul.”

She observed him carefully as he made his introductions to her daughters, and it was just with a little frown that she saw him holding on to Aurelilla’s hand for just a fraction longer than would be considered polite. If he was to be the adopted son of the house he would do well to forego such intimacies. Aurelia was not able ot continue her line of thought as Gaius introduced Marcus Scribonus. The beard and the long hair giving him a distinct Greek look, yet it could do little to hide the fact that he was still a very young man. His flattery delivered in a pleasant tone of voice, no doubt Marcus Scribonus had been schooled in oratory. Aurelia smiled politely as she let him take her hand in his and replying.

“My dear Marcus Scribonus. The honour is all ours and yes I am a bit cross with you for not visiting us before, but let us not dwell on that on a night such as this. I am sure that you will be a frequent guest in our house in the future, ne?”

They moved on into the triclinium when they were being noticed of yet another arrival. Aurelia frowned. Surely Hermes would be expected to keep unwanted company at bay. She gave Gaius a glance as he shrugged and left them to sort out the situation.

He had but left the room as a loud voice boomed throughout the house. A voice which she recognised well enough. Mark Antony himself. Aurelia had not met him in person, yet she had heard him speak on one or two occasions. Although hailing from a Senatorial family, Antony had, in some ways, the manners of a Plebeian. Yet he was a friend by sacred oath of her husband and even if his company had not been requested, it would be foolish to send him away. After all, he was the second man in Rome, and it was of course a good thing to be viewed ad friends of his.

With her face a mask of politeness she listened to, and watched the general make his introductions. Flirtations, rather, with her daughters. Marcia taking it well in her stride, while Aurelilla blushed like a Vestal virgin in a bawdy house. The big man then turned his attentions to her, offering her what could probably pass for a compliment of the highest rank. Even though, or perhaps because of his coarse manners, she felt just the tiniest flicker of pleasure running through her body. She knew of his reputation as a womaniser.

Offering him a soft smile as he took her hand in his before she replied to his explicit advances. “Oh it pleases you to jest General Antony, an old woman like myself would hold little interest ne? Besides I’m sure that your dear wife Fulvia would be right livid and I would not want to awaken her rage.” She nodded to Gaius who looked less than pleased with Antony’s behaviour, and in order to avoid a scene she moved a few steps back.

”Husband shall we not invite our guests to take their seats? I’m sure they are all want some wine and something to eat.”

 

[magbeam]

Gaius Marcius Nerva

Off to one side, Gaius watched with a smile on his face that was just slightly strained, observing his newest and - at the moment, if not even from the start - most unwelcome guest introduce himself to his family members. His female family members, two of whom were at the most vulnerably unwed state and the other...Well...

Antonius laughed heartily at Aurelia's reply, making a point of holding her hand tightly in his own massive paw. "Jest? Me? Oh come now, my dear, you surely must be stringing me along yourself, for I certainly cannot recall the last time I have made a joke." His face was split into the widest, toothiest grin Gaius had ever seen, as if to drive home the fact that he was joking then. Not that anyone had any hint of confusion on their parts, of course, but then again Antonius had never had and continued to lack any sense of subtlety about him.

"And my dear Fulvia? Oh, she would be livid with jealousy, indeed, although I rather think more at me getting to you before she had had a chance herself. Although like I told your pretty little daughters, I've found the most interesting marriages begin with a properly crowded wedding bed...and Fulvia's rages can best be handled by the proper application of the whip to her bottom. If she wouldn't already be acclimated to the idea of us sharing the conjugal bed, my dear Aurelia, I do think that that would rather do the trick nicely. I'm sure Gaius has too much of the Cato in him for Eastern perversions like that so when you feel the curiosity get too much, do keep my offer in mind."

Offering a final wink, Antonius finally let go of Aurelia's hand, much to Gaius's relief, letting out a breath he did not even know he was holding until that point. He was just glad the man had let it go at that. He had been present at social gatherings much nicer than this one where the general had gone on for nearly an hour into extreme detail on every aspect of his preferred and selected debaucheries of the past month. They had gotten off light. Although perhaps that was part of the reason, Antony it had to be said had a definite penchant for embarrassing the crusty old Good Men. Everyone here was his friend; where was the sport in trying to rattle their feathers?

"Yes, my wife, good point," Gaius said in reply to Aurelia's words, stepping back to the triclinium proper. "Marcus, Marcellus, I'm sure you know Antonius. Now then, I'm sure Antony would be the last one to have us miss out on our meal, eh? The slaves have everything planned out. Greek imports, you know how they get with everything being properly ordered."

And Gaius was at least reasonably sure that, at least in this case, he was speaking more bluff and bravado than facts where Fulvia was concerned. Hopefully this new marriage between two beings whose voracity and sexual appetites were matched only by each other would cut down on Antony's escapades outside of his own slaves and the occasional tavern wench. Still, Gaius was far from best pleased when his illustrious guest took his own couch nearest Aurelia, and he waited for several seconds while the slaves bustled, hastily trying to adapt to the new change their ranking guest had imposed upon their impeccably-Greek structured world, before reclining himself, positioning his body next to Marcellus, directly across from his hopeful son-in-law.

Grumio's meal was as delicious as ever, and it passed in pleasant conversation while a Thracian slave, appropriately but predictably named Calliope due to her training, plucked a lyra in the background. Antony had a stunning knack for making eyes with women - in this case, all three of Gaius's relatives, plus Calliope, plus every serving slave including the pretty young Gallic boy - while not missing a beat of witty banter and insightful anecdotes about whatever the discussion turned to, be it poetry, the price of Alexandrine grain, or Caesar's spectacular shows put on for his aedileship. With him present, Gaius was of a mind to talk politics, but a stern look from Aurelia quashed that - and of course Antony was even quicker to pick up on her displeasure, changing the course of the conversation even before he could.

It was right after one sly wink to Aurelia too much that, thankfully, Antony seemed to take the unspoken request of Gaius's to leave - or possibly it was just that he had filled his stomach with enough food to sustain him for his next round of violent lovemaking with Fulvia. Even here, after spending an hour flirting with his friend's wife and daughters, Gaius doubted that Antony would have let protocol or requests, spoken or otherwise, deter him from a path he had not chosen himself to take.

"Gaius, I had a lovely time," Antony said after downing the last of the wine in his cup. "I foresee a long friendship ahead of us. Marcus, Marcellus, you two little boys stay out of trouble now. Marcia, Aurelilla...I envy the bastards who get to pop your cherries. And my sweet Aurelia," he bowed before her with a too-elegant flourish. "I must be off to give to Fulvia what could be yours in a second. I hope your evening is as fruitious as mine will shortly be." Several seconds more, and the squeal from a maid in the atrium as he no doubt slapped some female portion of her anatomy on the way out, and Antony was gone. Gaius had never been happier to see his crude friend go. No doubt in the morning this would all blow over and he would chuckle...But he felt a small measure of sympathy for all the men he had laughed at Antony cuckolding.

Following Antony's departure, the dinner party broke up into smaller groups, the meal having been finished. Gaius motioned to Dodonicus. "Marcus, a moment. Are you into gardening? I don't claim to be any Lucullus, and it's rather dark to make anything out, but I insist you come with me, roses smell just as sweet in the nighttime air as the noonday sun." The metaphor and its implication were not lost, and soon the two men were alone beneath Luna.

"I noticed the slaves had you sitting next to Marcia," he noted nonchalantly, as if they would have done anything of the sort without his expressed approval at the least. "What do you think of her? A fine woman, is she not? You know, Marcus, it strikes me that a young man like you with prospects should be in the market for a wife, a wife from a suitably advantageous family. I'm sure such a match would have been very dear to your father's heart now were he still alive at this time. And I don't think our families have ever had the honor of being joined in this way. Now tell me, my dear boy, would this not be a very great honor - for both of us? I knew your father well, you are like a son to me. It would make me very happy to make you a son of mine in fact as well, if only by marriage."

 

[Randolph]

Marcellus

Marcellus stretched his limbs upon the dinner couch and belched quietly. The food was good, if a little fussy for his taste. Some of the roasted fowl and pastries had been truly delicious, however the small helpings had left him with a dissatisfied feeling despite the exotic variety and the innumerable courses.

Now he leaned back a moment, away from the littered table and the polite murmur of conversation to gather his thoughts. Marcellus was a soldier to the core. He was at home on the march, in the mess or on the training ground and polite - never mind dignified and now largely female - company made him uneasy. As a consequence he had guzzled too deeply and too quickly and he rubbed at his eyes, suddenly aware of the pulsing beat of the unseen musicians and the heat from the braziers.

Gaius had risen, taking Marcus Scribonius aside. Mark Antony was flirting outrageously with Gaius’ wife who covered her mouth demurely at some ribald jest. Marcellus studied her for a moment. He was not yet drunk enough to miss the indulgent but guarded expression she wore.

Marcia, Gaius’ eldest, was momentarily silent as she pushed the remains of her dessert thoughtfully around her dish. Her striking hair fell in loose curls about her face but despite her beauty there was something about her that sounded warning notes within him. He remembered the impact of her eyes when she had greeted him earlier; bright and sharp as a sword. There was a keen mind behind those sparkling gems; a keen mind knit to a voluptuous body, a combination he had long since learned to be wary of. He wiped a hand cautiously over his brow and his palm came away wet and shining

Marcellus looked over to the adjacent seat where the young Aurelilla sat quietly. The sight of her was like cool water. She was everything he desired in a woman and her beauty did not challenge him in the way her sister’s did. She raised her deep brown, trusting eyes to his. Was it mere accident that had set her couch alongside his? Smiling and emboldened by the wine he leaned across to her.

“That was a sumptuous feast, lady. I know now that your family’s taste and hospitality is justly famed.” Leaning a little closer he added: “though I think perhaps your most esteemed guest might stretch the bounds of good taste with his anecdotes – at least as far as your mother is concerned!”

He grimaced and rolled his eyes. “We soldiers spend too much time corralled together with camp drudges and horses and I’m afraid our manners suffer as a consequence. It is a long time since I enjoyed the company of one so gentle and refined as yourself and you must forgive me if I too seem uncouth, or if I speak out of turn. But you cannot imagine what a dream it is to be back in Rome, amongst civilised people. I keep thinking at any moment that all this will fade before my eyes and I will find myself back in a hide tent, cold and filthy in a dark forest crawling with enemies.”

Marcellus leaned closer still, lifting his hands to her. “You must understand… this, here…now… this is what a man pictures in his head at those times! At least, a man without wife or children.” Marcellus sighed. “It will seem very mundane to you I’m sure, but I speak truly. A hot meal, dry sandals, a clean cloak, a hot bath! This is what keeps a man going more than promise of wealth or glory. More than anything else, a campaign makes you confront the necessities of life. It brings a soldier closer to the gods, closer to his comrades and closer to himself – closer I dare say than many of us like to get! When every dawn may be your last, you think hard about what nails your spirit to your spine. If every day you stand to lose everything, you have to consider carefully what it is that you risk so much for.”

A far away look entered his eyes. The room grew indistinct, the voices far away. “Pride, honour, family… beauty…” he reached as if to take a lock of Aurelilla’s hair between his fingers. At the last instant he caught himself and lowered his hand, glancing around to make sure nobody had seen his indiscretion.

“Forgive me, my lady, I… I am boring you!” Marcellus lurched to his feet. “I think I will excuse myself a moment and take the night air…”