The Calends of January

[LadyAria]

Marcia Nervonis

A parade of characters rounded out her parent’s dinner party that a Greek comedy would be proud to include. Although good manners would not allow her parents to turn out the arrogant reveler, Mark Anthony did his best to try the boundaries of hospitality and taste. Marcia held her face like a prim statue; however, her sense of propriety screamed at the man to leave. If her eyes were weapons, Mark Anthony would have died a thousand painful deaths for his actions and eyes against her paragon. Her mother made Marcia proud in the way she handled herself. She mentally took notes knowing she too may one day face someone of his nature. Her face softened from a moment looking at her mother’s profile. Mortals like Aurelia kept Juno sweating over Jupiter’s long absences. May the gods bless her with that kind of poise.

Then, there was that poor figure Marcellus. From the moment he’d taken her sister’s hand, he’d given his mind, if not his always his eyes, to Aurelilla. Despite a mild interest, she did not try too hard to read her sister’s signals. Aurelilla bewitched water if it gathered too close to her feet. If Marcellus was her sister’s desire, she would have him. The gods blessed Aurelilla with a phenomenal power wasted in that vessel.

Marcia’s attention wondered back to the food she shove around her plate. It was excellent as no less would she expect for such an evening. However, the course man forced her appetite from her form. In addition, Marcia did not care to eat in company. It seemed like such an undignified action to stuff one’s face like a swine amidst others. She did not want a potential husband to think she was given to indulgence. She picked up her glass of water to play at drinking it.

Looking over the rim, the Iron Senatorial ring caught her. Slowly, she let the water tickle at her lips as her emerald eyes sized the man whose finger it held. Marcus Scribonius Decio Dodonicus the Younger, she recalled from the introduction. Younger, but the elder’s ashes had kissed the wind already. It had to be. He must be progressive despite the patrician family if he is showing alliance to Caesar. Either that, or he was ambitious and willing to edge his bets. She locked in on his senatorial toga. His type would have better politic chances with a government not driven by stodgy old men who spend more time on preening then politics. They never let the young get too close too quickly without purging the interloper's coffers of proper bribes . Her eyebrows lifted gently to acknowledge her pleasure.

She placed the cup down on the table and pushed back the plate. Her hands went neatly into her lap. Slowly, she turned fully to the man seated beside her. The hair seemed a natural red unlike her own henna enhanced up-sweep. She had always wanted red-headed children. The light of intentions touched her eyes.

“Marcus, it is so good of you to grace us with your presence,” she complemented. “A man of your taste must have many invitations. It must be so difficult without someone to help organize such petty affairs. Nevertheless, a brilliant man always seems to manage.”

She waved off her comment and brightened her smile to full glow. A blush formed a perfect virginal pink on the apples of each of her cheeks.

“Do you like horses, Marcus? I am sure a man of your esteem is quite versed in such things. I, being only female, do not begin to readily understand such things. Anyway, as I was asking, do you think you could help me with a question about horses? I’d like a male opinion on the subject and father has been quite busy to entertain such conversation...Yes, well, my father has two quite beautiful mares. They are both of equal stock and breed. In appearance, one horse is quite the bit fairer by most standards, but is given to spook. It would make a good city horse to ride through the street as long as they are calm. Although, that horse would need a firm hand, I am sure it is both a lovely and loyal beast. Then, he has the second horse whose coat is quite beautiful as well just not by the same traditional standards as the first. This horse does not scare easily and could easily be ridden into battle if the owner saw fit. I am certain the second horse would face an enemy equally fearless and supporting its rider in the most dire of moments. It, too, would be a very loyal horse, but may require more dressing for parades. Oh, and both horse would breed well if the owner so chose to when the time was right. Both animals of equal stock and breed would provide proper offspring. So, my question is, which animal would you prefer under you if you were to ride either of father’s mares? As a woman, I never know how men decide such matters and I know so little about horses. I would so value your insight.”

She tilted her head innocently to the side as her head dipped in submissively. The light green folds of her robe twisted around her hands. From lowered lashes, she maintained a healthy eye contact.

 

[Anael]

Marcus Scribonius Decio Dodonicus the Younger

Gaius Marcius Nerva had obviously spent a long while carefully planning this dinner, the food, the seating and almost every word he would say. It was so well scripted and run that it only became apparent to Marcus that Gaius was running this like a military operation when the unexpected arrival of Mark Anthony caused a small hiccup. Marcus had never been in such small company with Mark Anthony and never at an unofficial, relaxed event like this. His full on charm offensive aimed at the ladies of the house, quickly dissolved into improper suggestions and propositions. Gaius’ wife, Aurelia, cleverly shielded her daughters and took the brunt of his rudeness, expertly retaining her dignity while he lost his and gained a very different reputation. A reputation that Marcus had heard of but never known whether to believe until now.

Not wanting to put Gaius to any more inconvenience and unplanned horrors, Marcus waited to be shown where to sit by the host. Servants hastily rearranged dishes, places and glasses to accommodate the uninvited and inconvenient guest. Order was soon restored and Gaius beamed as the delicacies were unveiled. Fish, Beef, Swine, Fruit and plenty of wine. Marcus dug in, moderating himself, remembering to keep himself sober for as long as possible and to be the Senator he was. Dinner manners were one thing that came easily to him, his father had drummed them into him from an early age, telling him that even if no words are said, someone can be made to like or dislike you from the way you hold your drink or eat your food.

Conversation flowed and before long his interest turned from trying to suss out the military man Marcellus and his obvious interest in Aurelillia, to the beauty of Rome seated to his right. Gaius had placed him by his eldest daughter, Marcia. He had caught her emerald eyes once or twice and there was a fire, intelligence and wit hidden within her. The eyes could never hide what a person was, many in Rome had lifeless, dim eyes, but in Marcia there was a spark, an interest, something hidden, something to be let out. He reached out his hand, grasping his goblet, his iron ring clinking against the metal. He raised the glass to his lips, taking a moderate sip of the warming wine within. Out of the corner of his eye he caught Marcia taking him in, judging him. He lowered his glass and turned on the couch to look his neighbour, bowing his head slightly in acknowledgement.

“It is a pleasure to be here Marcia, your father was very kind with his invitation. I must be honest and say that the invitations have been few and far between, but I daresay that will change now that Caesar is back, you see I wasn’t too popular with Pompey.”

Her radiant smile beamed back at him and she blushed pink. The question that followed took all of Marcus’ diplomatic composure to keep a smiling face while he tried to come up with an answer. Beautiful Mares, training, grooming, riding. This beauty certainly had intelligence and a fire within her, but was that comment innocent or was it what he thought she was asking. He had a sneaking suspicion that had Aurelia been within earshot or unoccupied, Mark Anthony’s approaches were losing ground by the minute, she would have given her daughter a stern look.

Composing himself Marcus carefully worded his reply.

“Horses, well Marcia, I must admit that it has been a while since the stables at home had any occupants, father said there was no need for a horse within Rome once he held a position in the Senate, he always borrowed or hired one should he need it.

However, there are very few beautiful mares in this city so I would be very jealous of your father. The first mare does sound like the most tempting option but the streets can change from quiet and peaceful to loud and full of activity in but a moment, so she may get spooked. It would require time and effort to train her, though I daresay the reward would be immense. The second mare you say is fearless yet not quite as well groomed as the first. In less time than it would take to train the first, the second could have improved her coat with some care and attention, a good diet and daily exercise can bring the best out of a horse. I am more than sure that both would provide exceptional foals when paired with the right Stallion.

As for which one I would prefer to ride, well I have never been a man to jump into something without at least seeing the problem myself and so without riding both mares to get an idea I can only give you half an answer. I think I would prefer to ride the second of your fathers mares, however I would also be interested in finding out how the first got along with appropriate training.

I do hope that answer is acceptable Marcia.”

Marcus had kept his eyes on hers as he worded his response, trying to keep it as diplomatic as possible. However, he couldn’t be sure if the innocent question had been ever so carefully worded in the first place. Had Marcia just asked him for an opinion on horses or on whether he would like to bed her or Aurelillia? Had he just replied that he would like to bed her, her sister or both? He couldn’t remember and so sipped from his goblet and hoped he was reading the situation correctly, his eyes taking in his neighbour. Her hair, dress and those emerald eyes.

 

[Lady_Mornington]

Aurelia Marcia

Grace, dignity and respect for sacred hospitality.

Three things that kept returning to Aurelia as she lay back on her couch, straining herself to retain the mask of polite interest as General Antony launched assault after assault with the aim of wearing down the walls of propriety that Aurelia shrouded herself within. His accounts of his intimacies with his wife, clearly aimed at shocking his audience, and for a second Aurelia thought that his advances, for there was no other words to describe the general's behaviour, would cause her husband to forcefully eject him from the Marciae Nervae household, or worse, draw his dagger to defend the women of his family.

Juno and Minerva be praised since Gaius retained his dignitas, even in face of Antony's behaviour, a frozen smile on his lips as he sipped his wine, never allowing himself to stoop to the levels of his friend and brother by sacred oath did. She put the exquisite goblet down and with a dainty gesture dabbed her mouth with the scented napkin provided before addressing their guest. No matter what else Antony may have been, he was a guest and as such he would be treated with respect, even if the man himself thought so little about such decencies.

She kept her replies to a minium, limiting herself to smile occasionally as the general directed a particularly explicit remark about the carnal sides to his marriage at her. Perhaps it was just empty banter, the way that men spoke when not in the company of women? A way for the man to relieve the tension that he no doubt was labouring under. No matter the reasons, Aurelia reverted to the dignified, never allowing herself to show even the merest flicker of outrage and shock at the way that her husband's friend spoke.

As Antony finally slid into less sexual matters, she found the respite to hone in on the conversations between her daughters and the young men invited. Marcellus Flavius seemingly lost to the innocence of Aurelilla. She frowned slightly, it did not bode well should he become her husband's adopted son if he was so taken by the young woman whom would soon become his sister. Then again, the young tribune was not the first, nor the last man to find himself reduced in her presence. For all her shortcomings, Aurelia's youngest was a remarkable beauty, and her faults of charachter only served to underline and enhance it. She sighed quitely as she reached for her cup again, wondering what thoughts were currently occupying her daughter's mind. Aurelia had never wholly learned to understand her youngest, her quiet disposition and the tendency to withdraw within herself had barred such a relation. Added to this was of course the resentment that she felt for her, no matter how much she prayed for the strenght to love her, she had yet to reach that stage. Aurelilla would forever be the ruin of her, and even looking at her seemed as painful as a cut from a dagger.

She looked behind her, meeting Desma's eye. The Greek woman's features kept impassive, yet Aurelia had learned ot recognise every emotion that her bodyslave chose to reveal. There was the merest indication of a nod, the sign that she understood exactly what thoughts went through Aurelia's mind at that moment. Even though she was nothing save an instrumentum vocale, Desma still had a way which she could handle the moods of her mistress, and Aurelia doubted whether she would have managed to cope without her in Gaius's absense.

Reaching out for a daintily cut pastry as she bestowed Marcia with a long stare. Shrewed Marcia, no less beautiful than her sister but with the heart of a man. What tricks the Gods played. Had she been born as the son and heir that she knew that Gaius wanted, then she would already have carved a name for herself. She was destined for greatness, ths Spinners had weaved that into her thread, and curses to them all for not allowing her to be the man that she by rights should have been.

Even though Venus Birthgiver and the Parcae had cursed Aurelia, it seemed that Minerva had bestowed on her gifts to balance the inequities of her sex, the way that she was probing the mind of Marcus Scribonius bespoke just how agile her intellect was, and by phrasing herself in the most innocent of tones, she served to flatter the young Senator in a manner that boded well for a future alliance.

Aurelia listend carefully, noting how Marcus Scribonius replied, making sure to compliment Marcia while not chosing outright, thus not displaying too much weakness, a trait that Aurelia knew Marcia despised. 'What a general she would have made had she not been born a woman', the treacherious thought surged through her mind unbidden, and for a moment, Aurelia felt hot tears of shame burn in the corners of her eyes. Why did the Gods play such cruel tricks? Was it the sins of her own or those of her ancestors that had caused this to happen? No matter how many times she had had fortune tellers study the entrails of various animals, no matter how many times she had prayed in the temples of Juno and Venus, there had never been an answer.

She was brought back to the present as Antonius left, once more slipping a crude remark before departing. The shocked screams from one of the female slaves resonated through the vestibulum and into the trinclinum, accompanied by the racous laughter of the general's as he took his leave. Almost in a flash the atmosphere seemed to lighten, Gaius's mood visibly changing, or at least to a skilled observer such as Aurelia. With a smile her husband stood up, offering Marcus Scribonius to accompany him to the garden, no doubt there would be talk of marriage, and as she caught her oldest daughter's eye she knew that Marcia understood the true purpose of her father's.

There would be time to discuss this later, she was well aware of that, yet now the laws of hospitality demanded that she'd pay the tribune Marcellus Flavius some interest. Smiling serenely as she gazed upon him, seeing as he was lost to everything but the presence of Aurelilla.

"My dear Marcellus, I have heard so much about you and your excellent service to the Republic and my husband. He holds you in the highest regard and I know that he sees you as being the closest thing he has to a son. I therefore embrace you and hope that you will stay a friend of Gaius and our family."

How easy it was to speak the words and yet the pain of having to admit to her own inabilities seared through her like white-hot iron. Would a son hers react differently to the praise that she lavished on him? Would he have revered her with all the ceremony that was a matron's by right and tradition? Somehow she had hoped for something more, something that would ease the pain she was feeling. Still it was not for her to make such choices nor assumptions. She had failed her husband, failed the line of the Marciae Nervae, not by her own volition but nonetheless failed them.

She could hear voices and as she looked over her shoulder she saw Gaius and Marcus Scribonius enter the trinclinium again. Perhaps it would be seen as a breach of hospitality but she could handle the situation no more. Seeking her husband's eye before getting to her feet. Nodding to the seated Marcellus Flavius and Marcus Scribonius, before addressing her husband.

"I seem to have caught the most horrible headache and I fear I make for rather lousy company right now. Will you gentlemen excuse me if I retire to my chambers."

Aurelia offered the two men her hands, before turning to Gaius again, saying nothing in words but letting her pain and doubt be visible only in the tiniest flicker in the deep emerald of her eyes. "I am truely sorry but I'm certain that Marcia will be able to entertain the guests with all the flair that by rights belong to the mistress of the household."

She allowed herself to be kissed, her husband's question wordless but nonetheless potent. Yet he nodded his assent and with a nod to her daughters she left for her room, escorted as always be Desma. Hearing the door closing behind her, she let the shroud fall, throwing herself on the bed as the tears she had kept at bay flowed freely.

She felt the arms of her attendant wrapped around her, the only person save her husband who would be allowed to witness the composed facade shatter. "Cursed" she whisperd through the tears. "Cursed and thrice cursed".

 

[Esmeralda_Tate]

Aurelilla Nervonis

Aurelilla sat at the table in her usual quiet self. She ate slowly, chewing her food thoroughly before swallowing. After a few bites, she would bring her goblet up to her lips and take a drink before continuing on with her meal. There were so many new people to look at and many conversations to hear that it was hard to focus on just one thing. She did her best to watch those around her and keep up as best as she could.

Even though her mother was well poised and maintained a stoic posture, Aurelilla could tell that she was a bit perturbed by her fathers sudden guest. He was a rather boisterous man and could make any decent lady blush a dark shade of red. She didn't know how to react to him so she just smiled politely.

As the dinner wore on more and more people broke up into smaller groups. She found herself seated next to Marcellus whom she found to be a very handsome man. She was keenly aware of how he eyed her from time to time. Now that they got to spend a bit of time alone, he was beginning to talk with her and it felt grand to have somebody give her this kind of attention. Even though she chose to be in her own world for the most part, there were times when she craved interaction and since she didn't get it much from her mother or sister, she was willing to accept it from this tall dark stranger.

She sat facing him and listening to his tales. She was facinated by what he was telling her although it must not have shown, for he suddenly exlaimed that he must be boring her. That was far from the truth! She wanted to learn more and to share thoughts and ideas. When he suddenly stood up and excused himself to the night air she was dumbfounded, and looked at the empty spot where he once was. Grabbing a handful of fabric from her dress, she stood up and followed him not realizing that eyes could have seen her gesture.

"Wait!" She called to him and walked quickly to his side. The warm breeze immediately touched her skin and lightly blew soft strands of hair around her gentle face. She was unaware of the conversation between her sister and Marcus, having no idea of the deviant questions regarding the horses. Nor did she know that her mother would soon excuse herself and run up to her chambers crying in anguish. All she knew was that she was standing next to a much older man who was willing to give his time to her. She looked up at him in the bright moonlight and smiled tenderly.

"You weren't boring me. In fact, I greatly enjoyed our conversation. I'd like to hear about your life. I can remember as a little girl how my father would let me sit on his lap and tell me stories of what he accomplished. It's little things like that that make me smile. Sometimes the small things are more important than the big things." She shifted her position a bit and looked up to the heavens and sighed with the beauty of the sparkling stars. "I love to sit out here and just think about things. The peace and quiet and just being with the nature is so relaxing." She admitted and hoped that he wouldn't shun her like her mother and Marcia did. Aurelilla was one to daydream even though she was brought up to believe it unwise. She was one to see the goodness in all even in the midst of war. Some would call her unpractical but others would find her innocent charm irresistable.

Aurelilla believed in love and fairness. She was too naive to understand that her vulnerability could hurt her someday. She was content to be who she was and what she believed in. As she looked at Marcellus again, she noticed how strong and powerful he was. Perhaps he would be the key to taking her away from her home where she didn't belong. She longed for somebody to love her, to give her the acceptance she greatly craved. She knew how much of a disappointment she was to both her mother and sister and it pained her greatly. Luckily, she had her father who had a soft spot for her. She was still looking forward to the night when she could be alone with him again. It had been over two years.

As Aurelilla moved in closer, her small body began to tremble slightly. "I..I am so glad that you came to dinner tonight. It's nice to have somebody to talk with. It gets rather lonely in this big house at times." She looked down briefly before continuing on. "I would be delighted to hear more of your stories." She then began to look around until she found a bench close to the beautiful garden. "Come with me." She said and sat down motioning for him to follow. "It's nice here. I sometimes bring my journal in the afternoons. This place brings me great inspiration. I have written a few stories and plays in this very spot." She softly giggled and then brushed a chunk of loose hair behind her ear.

"We probably should return shortly, although I could stay out here all night." She then faced him and rested her hand on the bench next to her body which was only mere inches from his. Their eyes locked briefly and the intensity of his gaze caused her to advert her eyes back up to the sky again. She was feeling many new emotions that were hard to understand. It caused a fluttering in the pit of her stomach. Suddenly a shooting star flew across the sky. Her childlike eyes widened with wonder and she gasped, pointing upwards. "Look!" she exclaimed and smiled. "I sometimes study the patterns the stars make. You never know what you will find." She then took on a more serious note and wrinkled her eyebrows slightly. "Do you think there is more to this life than meets the eye? Do you ever look up and think about how vast the universe is? It's rather overwhelming if I may say so myself. We are just but a small speck compared to what is really out there. Just think of all the possibilities." She then had a very far away look on her face...

 

[magbeam]

Gaius Marcius Nerva

"Ah, splendid!" Gaius said happily, seizing his future son-in-law by the arms in a suitably intimate manner. "I cannot tell you how pleased this makes me. Pleased indeed. You will be a good man to have as a son-by-marriage. Marcia is a fine girl, a very fine girl. Obedient, caring, someone who you can trust to handle the household while you're away and keep you occupied when you're not...I'd just watch your slaves. Not to make sure she can handle them, but the opposite in fact," he added with a hearty chuckle. "You will not find any regrets with her, I promise. I trust I'll see my grandsons soon enough, eh?"

Laughing again, Gaius slapped him on the back heartily, already feeling more at ease with Marcus. He let out a happy, content breath, forcing himself to remember he didn't need to expand on Marcia's good traits. The man had already agreed; and if there was one thing he had learned from the Gallic markets - and certainly the Roman ones too, no doubt, not that he had ever gone to them, at least not since a child trailing behind his favorite slave nurse, Athena - was that there was such a thing as overselling.

"Well, in any case, my hearty congratulations," he said, the pair of them walking back from the rose gardens to the triclinium. "Thanks to our illustrious Fist Man, I have some rather attractive plots of land in Cisalpina, and a number of cattle and slaves. Which makes me relieved, really; I've grown rather attached to my ancestral holdings in Tusculum and Campania. Or, if you would prefer, I could simply fund your next election. I daresay I'm good for it now. Well, we can discuss the dowry later, no sense dampening the revelry here and I hope you trust me enough not to jilt you. Not that I won't let you look over the contract before the ceremony, of course - if it were up to me, we'd throw it tomorrow, but you know women, I'm sure Marcia and Aurelia will insist on planning a big affair. Although," Gaius suddenly mused, "I suppose that could have its advantages with the people too...Ah, Macia, my dear, we were just talking about you!"

Smiling, Gaius embraced his oldest daughter, then presented Marcus with his other arm. "Marcia, I think you know Marcus Scribonius Dodonicus? Well, Marcus and I have come to a suitable agreement, and...Well, not to put too fine a point on it, but you are to be wed to him!" Gaius couldn't help but let a smile split his face. "I know that a woman your age, my dear, must have been worrying, but do not worry, it is over. I am sure you will make a splendid wife, my little dear. I'll want a wedding as soon as possible, but if you wish to have some time to help your mother plan something nice, then I think we can arrange it. Just so long as it doesn't tease both of you along for too long, neh?" He smiled, then looked around, his smile faltering as he saw Aurelia rise, moving towards them to speak.

"Yes, of course, my dear," he said with a concerned glance at the look in her eyes. "It will of course be a shame to loose your shining presence. I will check on you soon. Please feel better." He watched her leave, not even having a chance to inform her of the news.

"Speaking of which, has your mother not been feeling well, lately? Well, I'll check on her soon. I must speak with Marcellus first...where on Earth has he gone off to? I'm sorry, I don't mean to rush off...A toast to you, then!" he said happily, drinking a cup of wine a slave brought to him and filled. "Now, I must find our other friend...You two get to know each other a bit, why don't you? But not too much, that'll spoil the fun of learning as you go on."

Gaius took his leave of his older daughter and her husband-to-be, walking out of the triclinium in good spirits, Aurelia's troubling mood notwithstanding. He would check on her soon; he just had a quick, final duty of the night to complete. One of his family maneuverings done and accomplished successfully; one more to go. The question was, where was he to be found? He had wondered if he had needed to use the privy, but Marcellus was not there to be found. And certainly he would not be in the private areas of the domus...

Gaius heard voices in the garden, the garden he and Marcus had just left. He frowned. There was Marcellus's voice...And that of a woman. A slave, perhaps? A bit of an Antony in him, in that case...But no, as Gaius drew closer so the stars could illuminate the setting even with their distant light, the truth dawned.

"Aurelilla?" he asked sharply. "What are you doing here, alone with Marcellus? This is quite improper, my dear, to say the least." Gaius pursed his lips as he looked at her. He had a soft spot for Aurelilla, he had to admit this to himself if no one else, and the time away had made him even more vulnerable to it; yet even he could not let something like this slide. "Return inside, now. I will speak to you about this later. Or perhaps your mother will. I'm afraid I'll have to tell her of this anyways. No," he said, raising a hand. "Don't argue, Aurelilla. Run inside like I said. Marcellus and I must talk."

Gaius watched his younger daughter return inside, before sitting down beside him. "My apologies, She is a most impulsive young thing, always has been." There was quiet for a second, as Gaius examined Marcellus out of the corner of his eyes. He wasn't an idiot. A man and a woman alone under the darkness had only a few implications, flighty Aurelilla or not. But he relaxed after a few seconds. He was a good man, Marcellus, and nothing had obviously happened. And nothing ever would if he agreed to what he had to say.

"Marcellus, no doubt you are wondering why I needed to talk with you. Allow us to cut through the formalities. I have liked you, I always have. You served well in the war, you are loyal, you are a gentleman of prospects. I value that. Your prospects are not as high as mine are, right now. Neither is your purse. Your parents are dead; I have no son. I am asking to adopt you formally, make you my heir and son. It is a matter we both could benefit from, benefit from splendidly." Gaius would not say how much he ached for a son; he would not make him vulnerable, nor insult Aurelia, even from such a distance and in such an oblique manner. But what he said was true, there were many ways besides that this union would work to the advantage of both.

"Take your time, please Marcellus, by all means. This is a big decision. Nevertheless...I do hope an answer won't be too long in coming."

 

[Britwitch]

Desma

"Cursed...Cursed and thrice cursed..." Came the tremulous and slightly ragged exclamation as Desma moved to sit beside Aurelia upon the bed, her dark brown eyes wide with concern.
"...How can you say such things, my Lady..." Desma soothed, smoothing her mistress' hair as she had done countless times during her service within the house of the Marciae Nervae. "Your husband has returned, safely, from his time with Caesar...you have two, happy, healthy daughters who I am sure will bring nothing but beneficial alliances for your family...how can you say such things...?" Even though her position of attendant would, in most cases, prevent Desma from speaking such things so candidly there was a kind of understanding between the two women that meant that the gulf of propriety between them could, occassionally, be breeched when in the privacy of her mistress' rooms.

Desma had served Aurelia just as her mother had done before her. She had come to this house and lived within it's walls longer than she had doen in her native Greece and it only seemed right to her that she saw this place and the people within it as her true home and family. Perhaps an odd view for a servant but it was the only way Desma knew how to view her situation.

She worked for a family who had taken care of her just as they had looked after her own family through the employment of her mother in the years before Desma grew old enough to make the move to Rome.

She had been little more than a child when she had left the sun kissed islands of her birth and headed for the towering houses and crowded streets that made up the centre of the Empire. She had worked within the kitchens and the laundry for several years before her mother had decided she was old enough and mature enough to become the Lady Aurelia's attendant and made the recommendation to the lady of the house herself.

At the time Desma hadn't believed herself ready at all, she had been so nervous when she had stood before the Lady Aurelia. Answering her questions about the proper care of garments and serving of meals. But, to her surprise, the Lady had seen something within her and given her the role that her mother had fulfilled for so many years.

Desma had been given the post shortly before the birth of her first daughter and had assisted in the birthing and upbringing of both Marcia and Aurelilla, watching the two girls grow with something akin to sisterly pride as they became the young women they now were.

Now her duties lay primarily with Aurelia but, during her husband's absence, Desma had also gradually taken over more and more of the running of the household. Overseeing the kitchen purchases, training and guiding new servants and, during it all, demonstrating the intiative and loyalty that had gotten her the position in the first place.

Desma knew that she was lucky to have found employment with such a family. She heard all too often the tales of other girls placed with families whose...interest...in their attendants ran past that of ensuring their usual duties were fulfilled. She had been lucky in that she was still untouched and, although she knew that her chances of finding a husband whilst in her position were slim, she could relax in the knowledge of not having been exposed to the experiences so many serving girls...and occassionally boys...were.

"Can I get you anything, my Lady?" Desma whispered softly, brushing a lock of hair back from her mistress' face. "Some water...or wine? Please let me do something to alleviate your distress..."

 

[Randolph]

Marcellus

Marcellus had still not recovered from the shock of her following him into the garden when Gaius’ younger daughter bade him sit with her in a sheltered grotto! Though the rain had ceased, the night air was chill and the stone was damp. He felt her shiver as she drew closer to him, almost touching him. Why did she follow him? What could such a noble lady desire from her father’s lowliest house-guest? A base and obvious answer burst through the turmoil of his thoughts and he felt heat rising within him, despite the cold. But wait, this was no winsome wench to tumble beneath the bushes. This was the pampered and precious possession of one of the most powerful men remaining in Rome...

Marcellus swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry. In the triclinium he had been reeling from the effects of the un-watered wine. Now he felt stone cold sober. He forced himself to calm and tried to ignore the proximity of her nubile form and concentrate instead upon what she was saying to him. There was clearly more to little Aurelilla than met the – duly delighted – eye. Demure to the point of ineptitude throughout most of the dinner, now they were alone she had come alive. Her voice was vibrant with passion and intelligence as she spoke of her love for nature and for her father. Her eyes shone with a gentle but ardent light and Marcellus felt something of her loneliness and the deep longing that possessed her soul. Coupled with the sheen of her skin and the clean, sweet scent of her lustrously piled hair this was powerful magic indeed. His temples throbbed with the desire to snatch her in his powerful arms, to crush her body to his pounding breast, to bend her backwards with the violence of his kisses…

The shooting star saved her from outrage.

“Look!” she turned away from him to lift her face to the sky, breaking the spell.

Marcellus let out his breath and followed her gesture. “Oh… yes, they are omens of change, or so I have heard it said.”

"Do you think there is more to this life than meets the eye? Do you ever look up and think about how vast the universe is? It's rather overwhelming if I may say so myself. We are just but a small speck compared to what is really out there. Just think of all the possibilities." Aurelilla looked at him again, but there was distance now in her eyes.

Marcellus quelled an unaccountable surge of impatient anger. “You are asking the wrong man, lady. I am a soldier not a philosopher and though I have spent long years ending men’s lives I must confess I do not linger much upon what lies beyond. It is a failing no doubt, but there it is! It is not the possibilities but the practicalities that most concern me. Such is my training and I’m afraid it has instructed my nature over the years.”

She looked down. He realised that his words had disappointed her and he felt a pang of regret. After all, Marcellus was not entirely unromantic. In a softer tone he said,
“the Gauls believe that the thunder god, Taranis dwells high in the Heavens. They fear that when he rages the sky may fall down upon their…”

"Aurelilla! What are you doing here…” Gaius’ sharp rebuke cut across them. Guiltily they both jumped to their feet. Marcellus sat again as a chastened Aurelilla vanished in the direction of the house.

Sweating slightly, Marcellus waved away the Legate’s apologies. He quickly assured Gaius that his daughter had said nothing that he need be ashamed of and complimented him again on his fine and noble family. As he listened to what Gaius had to say, his shock came all the more like a bolt from Jupiter when he realised that he was being cordially invited to join it! Whereas Aurelilla’s tempting had sobered him, under the Legate’s scrutiny he felt once more like a dim-wit and drunkard. He was conscious though that, whatever else, he must not cause offence.

“Your faith and kindness overwhelms me, Gaius Marcius and the surprise of this… offer… this… proposal, robs me of all words. I lack even the vocabulary to express my pleasure and gratitude, but believe me, this is a temporary lapse only. I will bear your words home with me like the most precious of gifts and upon the morrow, once I have honoured them with sober reflection, I will give you my reply. In the meantime you have my sincere gratitude… and so does your lady wife, with thanks for a most excellent evening!”

 

[Anael]

Marcus Scribonius Decio Dodonicus the Younger

Mark Anthony’s departure saved Marcus any further embarrassment, he still was not sure what he had replied to Marcia’s cryptic question. He wasn’t even sure of the question itself. After seeing his uninvited guest out of the door, Gaius motioned to Marcus, inviting him outside to the garden on the pretence of viewing, or rather smelling, his Roses, although it seemed clear that a private chat and something of a proposition were in order. Promotion in the Senate maybe. Marcus’ mind wondered briefly before being reigned in by Gaius’ opening remarks about Marcia. If this was about the Senate, Gaius certainly was taking a round about route to get to it.

It soon became very clear that Marcia was the topic of conversation, particularly since Gaius barely paused for breath as he asked question after question, ones which Marcus could only nod his agreement at since Gaius had moved on to the next already. Then the sesterce dropped, he was proposing an alliance between the House of Nervae and the House of Dodonicus, one in the form of marriage. Marcus was a little taken back by the speed with which Gaius moved, he had been introduced to his potential wife a few hours ago and Gaius had only been back in Rome a couple of days. Finally Gaius paused, the silence hanging thick in the air, but his host was patient and happy to wait for an answer that certainly required thinking about.

“Gaius, dear friend, I must admit that this is most unexpected. You have a wonderful family and you are part of the future of Rome. I can not deny that to be your son by marriage would be an honour, it really would, and yes Marcia is a fine woman, you have two beautiful daughters dear Gaius and they must make you very proud. Yes, I would be honoured to take your daughters hand in marriage and ally the Nervae with my family.”

A beaming smile spread across Gaius’ face as he grabbed Marcus by the arms. He instantly seemed more relaxed, as if a huge weight had been removed from his chest. It seemed his wish for a son and heir would be fulfilled through marriage and the mention of grandsons soon confirmed this. Gaius’ booming laugh filled the rose garden and brought with it an infectious need to smile. His host slapped him on the back and relaxed some more, congratulating Marcus. To be honest, Marcus thought the congratulations should be going to Gaius who had seemingly managed to talk him into it. Not that he wasn’t pleased or wouldn’t have accepted but it was a master play by his dear friend. The pair made their way back inside and the conversation flowed to land in various parts of the Empire, or indeed a gift of money for the next election, but that could wait, for a while. Gaius seemed keen to seal the deal with a contract as soon as possible, always the businessman and keen to make sure everything was in order. The thought of a wedding tomorrow shocked Marcus and he was glad when Gaius mentioned that the women of the house would take their time planning it and getting it all in order.

Arriving back by Marcia, Gaius embraced his eldest daughter and informed her of the arranged marriage, another smile breaking out across his face. Marcus stood there nervously, looking into the emerald eyes of his wife to be, trying to see her thoughts and feelings and not getting very far. The departure of her mother, Aurelia and Gaius’ departure to check on his youngest daughter left the two of them alone.

“Marcia, my wife to be, I hope this news makes you happy?”

 

[LadyAria]

Marcia Nervonis

“Happy?” Marcia said with a turn in her voice. “I am elated to be the bond in such an honorable alliance. My father is my keeper and my mother is my heart. Neither would betray me with anything less then the very best of Rome.”

With a rare honesty, the narrows of her full lips slid back to share a hidden smile. Her dark lashes contrasted with the green of her irises making them appeared almost as bright as two Persian limes. The arches of her brows rose in a salute to the object of her attention. Holding his stare, she took his hand into hers. Her fingers traced over the open palm with consideration and then, turned it over to feel what he showed the world. With much thought, she pressed a kiss to the flat of his ring. Her hold did not linger, but released with break of the contact between her lips and his ring.

“In my service as your wife, I will hold chaste and honorable as proper Roman woman. I will serve to gladly please and find pleasure in my service. I only hope to further the greatness this hand will grasp and never shorten its reach,” Marcia spoke thoughtfully. Bringing her finger up, she tapped her chin before folding her long pale arms across her chest.

“All arrangements will be made prior to our ceremony, correct? My knowledge of such complex negotiations are very limited. I know when one plucks a fruit from the vine, it is best to squeeze the juice quickly and not allow time for it to sour. It takes the right amount of pressure not to destroy the fruit, but just enough to enjoy every drop it has to offer. The same sense of urgency could be applied appropriately to our situation. One might seek both land for our children and politic influence for our family in my dowry. After all, am I not a perfectly ripe fruit? Each day that passes, I move closer to uselessness due to my father’s lengthy absence. Is it not his burden? I am sure you felt it in the speed of his proposition. However, I am only a woman and a simple creature by nature. One smarter then myself may ask why my father would not already feel responsible in funding your inspirations being you will be the father of his grandchildren. Will we not all be family? Silly me, I know so little about such matter. Please accept my apology for speaking out of line, dear Marcus. I am so happy to be considered your future wife.”

Quickly, she cut her eyes to the door to make sure her father had not returned. He was occupied with her sister’s usual disregard of common sense. Like a frivolous-natured nymph, Aurelilla flittered out into the night after the solider. Marcia felt sure the man had meant to lure her out into the night knowing the distracted nature of her younger sibling. Marcia wanted to run after Aurelilla and drag her away from the tawdy situation. However, she did not wish to draw attention to the matter. Marcia knew that in this choice Aurelilla would incite her mother’s rage. How dare she chance ruin on the eve of her wedding arrangement? Her sister needed to learn not to trust so easy. The nature of all men is lust and vanity they project on women. She prayed Aurelilla did not compromised herself with the predatorily man. She forced the thought from her mind. Gods be with my little sister, she thought. Please do not let father find them in anything less then the best of a bad position. She picked up the corners of her robe in a moderate bow to Marcus. Her mind needed to focus back on her duty to the family and not Aurelilla.

“I must return to my family’s guest. My mother trusts I will entertain in her absence. She is not a frail woman. I suspect her humors may be out of balance due to the rapid changes in our House. Please excuse my necessary leave of your company. I do so wish we had more time and hope the Gods will see it fit to give us this moment again soon.”

 

[magbeam]

Gaius Marcius Nerva

"Well, do you know how to say 'yes'? I promise that that is all the vocabulary you need to properly gratify me, at least in this matter," Gaius chided gently, more in jest than anything else. "Yet if you need more time, I of course understand. It's not light thing I'm asking, of course, and you must understand I mean no disrespect to your father by it, no matter where we differed...But the fact remains that my star is on the ascendant, I have need for a son and heir - one to spend both my coin and prestige, say, in advancing his career through the cursus honorum - and one can never have fault with wishing for a father. Well."

He laughed shortly, standing and patting him on the shoulder. "I don't mean to go on. You're a smart man. I wouldn't have chosen you if you weren't. I'm sure you'll see the merit of my argument in due time. By all means, come see me tomorrow, either in the Senate our my house. Either way, no matter what your response is, you will be welcomed here as a friend. Now, I don't mean to rush you, or leave you alone here, but there is some business I must attend to. Feel free to stay as long as you wish, either here in the gardens or in my home."

Gaius started to walk away, before pausing, turning back. "Oh, one more thing," he said mildly. "No doubt it was Aurelilla's flightiness that led her out here and I am supremely confidant of your honor and your treatment of my womenfolk, either as my relatives or as yours, but...I think, for propriety's sake, it might be good if you two were to stay apart from one another, at least for some time. Obviously, brothers and sisters should see one another but...I am not trying to sway you one way or another or insinuate anything, of course, my friend, but you know how this sort of thing could be seen. Considering our positions in the Senate it might be best for all of us, myself included, and you can only imagine how the poor girl's mother will react. Anyways, good day again, my friend."

Gaius turned away, pausing one more time. "Oh, by the way, I have offered Marcus Scribonius Marcia in marriage, and he has accepted. I will of course make sure you are invited to the wedding either way."

Gaius walked back from the garden, into the main segment of the domus. He was somewhat irritated that Marcellus had not answered one way or another at the moment. Marcus had had the common courtesy to do so when Gaius had popped the question to him; surely, adoption was somewhat a weightier matter but at the same time it was not like Marcellus had a living father, or anyone else clamoring for the position. Gaius was well off, on the other hand, and Marcellus had very little, if indeed anything, to loose, especially given all the potential - and quite certain - benefits. But he would see that soon enough, and Gaius put it from his mind. There were other things to attend to, now. He had wanted to go straight to Aurelilla, who obviously was in some form of distress, but now, his youngest's antics had put that plan askew as well. He looked about the triclinium for a moment, not seeing her there; somewhat glad, he made his way to where his younger daughter slept.

"I thought I would find you here," he said, entering the room and sitting beside Aurelilla on her sleeping couch. "I must say, Aurelilla, that was shocking bad form for a young lady. Going off alone with a man, especially one as handsome and spry as Marcellus. What are we all to think? I know you are a dove, my dear, but you are also pretty, and a woman now, and...But of course I cannot expect you to know the effect you have on men."

He leaned over, kissing the top of her head. "You mustn't think I am angry with you, Aurelilla, or at least too angry with you. But I am a bit disappointed. You are not a girl anymore, Aurelilla; if you weren't before, you have quite definitely become a woman in my absence. You must start behaving like one. I love you dearly, my sweet little dove, you know that. But I am afraid I am going to have to tell your mother, anyways, and I don't think she will be as lenient as I am being. No, no, Aurelilla, it is for your own good. I am sorry." He put an arm around her, holding her in a close hug, kissing the top of her head again.

"We must find you a good husband, I think. Your sister is going to wed Marcus Scribonius soon. We shall see who would be good for you." He didn't mention Marcellus; the boy would be his son soon, in all likeliness, but until the man made up his decision, Gaius did not want to spread the word around and risk humiliation in the eyes of Aurelilla, and more to the point, whoever else she would inevitably gossip to.

"Now then, Aurelilla, I am afraid I must tend to your mother...She was in a bit of a state earlier. I would appreciate it if you would stay here, at least until our guests leave. I am sorry, darling. But you are a woman now. You must act like one; and that can mean accepting punishments with the good grace that I know you have inside you." Kissing her a third and last time, Gaius left his younger daughter behind him, making his way towards his bedroom.

Once there, he looked in. Aurelia was there, sitting on the bed, with her Desma standing next to her. She was nursing a cup of what smelled like willow water, and even in the lamp light, always unflattering in direct proportion to one's beauty, Gaius could see that she was not fully well.

"Aurelia, my love?" he asked softly, entering the room. "Are you not well? Are you having an attack of some kind? I could call a physician if you are truly troubled...There were several exceptional Greeks in my legion, they would all jump at the chance to help the legate's wife. Come, my dear," he said, moving closer. "Please tell me what is wrong?"

 

[Lady_Mornington]

Aurelia Marcia

Aside from her sobs, stillness prevailed behind the closed door of her private chamber. She could hear Desma's attempts to reassure her that she was not cursed, nor singled out for misery. No matter how inane the Greek woman's words may have sounded to any other listener than Aurelia, the combined words and gentle caresses finally banished some of the anguish from her mind.

She looked up, beholding the perfect features of her bodyslave through red rimmed eyes. In the flickering light of the candles, the Greek woman's face seemed to hold a light that was not readily discernable at first glance, but something that Aurelia had seen and come to treasure a long time ago. She offered Desma the shadow of a smile, trying to convey the things that could never be dressed in words through the gesture. This was not the first time that the Greek woman had offered her solace, nor did Aurelia think that it would be the last.

"I think I would like some willow water my dear." She adjusted her palla as Desma got up from the couch, and as she made to leave, let her hand trail down her arm. It was a small token of affection, an affection that would arise naturally from spending almost every waking hour within sight of each other, yet both of them knew that the social barriers as well as decorum would never allow it to be displayed outside the confines of this room. "And do tell the Dominus that I am doing well, just a minor headache. We wouldn't want him to worry himself over the trifling troubles of women would we?" Once again Aurelia offered her servant the shadow of a smile as she sat up on the couch.

No she would not allow her husband to let his judgement be clouded with undue worries as to her welfare. It did him credit the way that he was constantly thinking about her well being. Titus Aurelius Orestes would never have allowed a woman of his household to take such liberties as Aurelia did now. Perhaps it was Juno's and Venus' way of balancing the curse of the Parcae? To allow her the gift of a loving and caring husband for the price of not bringing him a son? The ways of the Gods were truely mysterious, and she lay no claims to understanding them, still wouldn't it be pleasing to the eyes of Venus Birthgiver should Gaius be graced with a natural son rather than having to resort to this...

Aurelia chided herself for the selfish thought. No, only a fool would have taken such an offer, and Venus was no fool, nor was Juno likely to stand petty and not to mention, childish ideas in a respectable matron such as herself. Closing her eyes she whispered a short prayer for forgiveness to them both. Asking for strenght to stand graceful in face of the things that she knew were to come. She did not begrudge her husband a son, how could she? She just wished that it would be someone else than Marcellus Flavius.

She looked up as Desma entered, carrying a cup of willow water on a silver tray and gently holding it out for Aurelia to take. She nodded her thanks as she sipped from it, feeling the soothng qualities of the willow extract soothe her troubled spirit. Perhaps it would be advantageous in the end, that Marcellus Flavius would prove to be the man that Gaius had envisaged him to be. Taking another sip and quietly looking at her bodyslave. Desma was sitting quietly in one of the corners, almost merging with the shadows. "How easy it must be for a slave. I envy you sometimes Desma. Perhaps in the great scheme of things you are the free one and I am the slave..." She was interrupted by Gaius' entrance. She glanced up to meet his worried gaze and braved herself to smile in response to his questions.

"I'm quite alright dearest, a minor attack of the migraine, nothing to worry about." She turned her head to the side, cursing herself for not having thought about re-applying her make-up. Of course he wouldn't want to see her in a such pitiful state as she was currently in. "I trust that all went well and to your satisfaction. May we now regard both Marcus Scribonius and Marcellus Flavius as family?" Aurelia spoke quietly, the first part of the question breathing hope, the other fear. "And did Marcia behave as befits a matron?" She smiled brifely "Of course she did. Your daughter is blessed Gaius, she is perfection embodied and knows not the word failure." She met his gaze, allowing herself to be lost for the briefest of moments. "And Aurelilla?" There was a lenghty pause. "I hope she behaved in an acceptable manner. I do not know where I went wrong with her." The way that Gaius waited seemed to corroborate her fears. When next he spoke he recounted the utmost grace and dignity that Marcia had displayed, the way that she had made even the composed Marcus Scribonius show his wants. It pleased her, and only reinforced what she already knew. The next recount did much the same, namely to underline what she already knew about her youngest, yet the ease which Gaius treated the matter angered her.

"How can you take this so lightly? Your daughter found in the garden, at night with a stranger. The rumours alone would be enough to put of the wedding of Marcia's if it's ever known." Aurelia's was cut short, Gaius' reply may have been softly spoken yet the words made her flinch as he let the venom that Mark Antony had left in him pour out. He didn't exactly accuse her, nor did he point out explicitly what she may or may not have done, but still, there was the unmistakeable signs of jealousy. The force of his emotions brought her back to the present. How could she be so selfish? Turning to her husband again, her eyes demurely cast down as she kissed his hands. Declaring her undying love and obedience to him and his house. Never would such a brute of a man as Antony take his place. She would rather throw herself on his funeral pyre, as women of the heathen lands were rumoured to do.

He smiled, pulled her to him, and once more she felt the strength of his desires. There was no finesse to it, not this time, her delicate palla all but ripped open to expose the soft flesh draped in the expensive fabric, as he made her straddle his legs, his manhood entering her in a manner that was almost painful. Yet she had been ready for him, just as she had always seemed able to be. The feel of him inside her made her forget the troubles that had assailed her earlier. The way that their bodies merged into one, every thrust causing a yet another moan to escape her. Moans that turned into screams of Bacchean pleasure until they climaxed.

Aurelia lay back, her palla in tatters and the intricate curls of her hair a mess. Yet here, where no one would be allowed to witness it she did not care. She snapped her fingers, causing Desma to walk over to the bed, handing them both a goblet of water each.

"It seems that the Gods favour you my dear, and I will do my utmost to lend honour in the future." She whispered the words in his ear but her husband had already fallen asleep.

 

[magbeam]

Gaius Marcius Nerva

"This does not seem minor, love. I've never known you to cry at physical pain before. You're one of the strongest I've ever known in that regard." Gaius stepped towards her, Aurelia's turning from him causing a frown to flit across his face. He stepped closer to her, sitting down next to her on the bed. "Oh, come now, my dear one, what can be so bad to warrant this? Please don't be this way." Gaius gently turned Aurelia's head to face him, smiling as her eyes finally met his. "There. That is better, isn't it?"

He was silent, enjoying the chance to watch her eyes in the flickering-lamplight, as she asked her questions. He smiled slightly at her ebullitions of Marcia's virtues, joining in with his wife in the silent celebration of the mercy of the immortal gods above in this manner. His smile remained, strained and artificially supported, for several seconds after the mention of Aurelilla, before falling into a flat-lipped line. Aurelia stopped talking, and silence reigned for several moments as Gaius meditated on how best to phrase the night's developments in was that would neither insult Aurelia through deceit nor slander those whose only trespass might, indeed, have been carelessness.

"Our hopes are only half fulfilled this evening," Gaius began, keeping his words filled with cautious optimism. "My friend Marcus assented to our darling Marcia as quick as boiled asparagus. You should have seen the looks on their faces! Made for each other, and already they know it. I am positive their union will be as long-lasting and fruitful as our own. Imagine, someday we may yet have two consuls within the family! If only Pater was still alive...And Marcia, if only you had stayed longer, love. You would have been ever so proud of how she carried herself. Ever the matron, not a hint of fuss and even was proud. Already you can see Marcus is taken with her. Who in his right mind wouldn't be?"

He paused. Now was the delicate part. "As for our hopeful son...Marcellus has said that he will think on it and return to me with an answer tomorrow, either in the Senate or visiting our home, which I have given him permission to do. In the interests, that is, if he does refuse, well, reject my offer, I have told no one save him or you, and until he confirms - if he does - I would appreciate it remaining this way. I have sensed you have some aspersions to Marcellus, my dear; you have as much said so, but I expect...Well, I know you will treat him with the utmost respect he deserves, whichever course he takes. You are a good woman, Aurelia, a god wife." He leaned in to kiss her cheek, both to express his true love to her and to, hopefully cast her in a better light for what was to come. For Gaius had decided, of course, that he could not withhold something of this magnitude from her; not even for his little girl.

"However...I must speak of a, rather disturbing to be honest but likely totally innocent, encounter...When I went to speak to Marcellus, I was unable to find him for some time. When I did find him, he was in the gardens, sitting alone...save for Aurelilla beside him. Now," he hurriedly added, "I saw no evidence of any wrongdoing and they both swore that none occurred, I have spoken quite harshly to Aurelilla on this matter and have spoken man to man with Marcellus, and I am sure we can put this matter behind us-"

Gaius paused, frowning as Aurelia lashed out against him, predictably and quite within her right in terms both legal and moral. And yet...

"Yes, that would be quite a scandal," he said quietly. "So would it being reported across the City that the Antonius, the most notorious philanderer and cuckold ever to set foot between the Seven Sacred Hills, entered into my house unannounced and made what could possibly be the most lewd series of statements I, a soldier and a traveler to beyond the borders of the Republic itself, have ever heard? That my wife, well known for her modesty and morality, in this manner stood smiling before him the whole time, nodding and taking in everything that...that scoundrel said? That when he announced his desires to wed you, to bed you with his wife, to flagellate you, instead of at the very least turning or stating your polite protests, as you would and have done at any other time, in this case, with Antony, absorbed it as quickly and happily as if Desma were taking diction?"

Surprised at how far he had let himself go - yet he had ever been quiet and composed, never raising his voice once throughout the emotional venting - Gaius quieted himself. He hadn't intended to carry his intimations, no, his frustrations so far; yet here he was. He had not seen Aurelia in two years. He had been back for a day, and already he had been forced to sit back, and tolerate in good humor as if a gelding, a man - Antonius, of all men - flirting and intimating rudely with her. And with her, so strong willed and loyal as he had prided, taking the exact opposite course with the coarse man as he had hoped. He had been humiliated, raged wit jealousy.

Antony had spent the last year running back and forth between Caesar's army and Rome, acting as a messenger and intermediary. He had spent a considerable amount of time in Rome while Gaius had been gone. Surely...but even that was too far. The shock of how far his mania was taking him was enough to make him realize how absurdly he was taking this; the look of pain on Aurelia's face, followed by the kisses she bestowed upon his knuckles did the rest.

Gaius's smile returned, softened. Almost as if watching from the outside, she was in his arms, mouth and hands everywhere, kissing, licking, biting, nipping, tearing, the pent-up energy and lust and love and loneliness combining into a torrent output, a crashing wave of desire to show her just how much he loved her, how much he missed her, how sorry he was for having made things so hard for her that she felt the need to retreat into her room and cry into a slave, of all people. Things would be different now that he was back; their love and marriage would be as caring as when they had first been joined...

Aurelia's clothing was torn off or bunched up, her hair frizzing and arms clinging to him like to a sinking ship, her nails digging into his skin with the haste of their lovemaking. He was in her in a second; she tensed, and he feared he had hurt her, but her lips were on his instead of voicing pain, and they clung and writhed and bucked, sweaty hot skin slick against each other and they were pressed tight like one when...

Their screams reached a crescendo before fading, and they lay side by side on the bed, hot and panting and their sides touching each other, his hand reaching over to takes hers, his thumb rubbing up and down her fingers. Wearily, he accepted the water from Desma, drinking it, smiling as he squeezed his wife's hand. Handing the goblet back, leaning back into bed with the heat of his beloved Aurelia next to him, the coolness of the mixed essence of their lovemaking still on his member, Gaius fell back asleep, feeling much better and more at ease than he had an hour earlier.

 

[Esmeralda_Tate]

Aurelilla Nervonis

Aurelilla was so absorbed with watching the shooting star that she did not see the intensity with which Marcellus was looking at her. She kept her eyes high up to the heavens until he finally responded to her many insightful questions. Looking at his face again, she was rather disappointed in his reponse. He sounded as though he wasn't interested, and was there a hint of annoyance in his tone? Aurelilla wasn't too sure, but she did frown for a bit before looking back down at the ground.

Who was she kidding? This man had absolutely no interest in her. She was a fool to come running out here after him like a sick little puppy dog. She should have known better. He was a man of war, not someone who would look up at the stars and wonder lifes many unsolved mysteries. Perhaps she was destined to be alone for the rest of her life.

Just as the wind picked up she heard a familiar voice and turned her head to see her father approaching. She gasped and stood up straight, a look of horror on her face. She hadn't done anything inappropriate, but she knew that her father was gravely disappointed in her. She immediately wrapped her arms around her small body as if to shield herself from what was to come. The moment she learned that her mother would be informed about this her eyes widened. Fear coursed through her veins. Her father would be lenient, but she knew her mother wouldn't. It was something to be alarmed about. She wanted to protest but her father wouldn't give her a chance. He instructed her to go right inside away from the older man. Without giving another glance back, she walked away almost giving into a humiliating run back inside the house. Out of the corner of her eye she saw her sister talking with Marcus. Why wasn't that forbidden? She didn't understand. Marcia could do nothing wrong. She was perfect in her mothers eye. Aurelilla on the other hand was very aware that she was not wanted. Even if she died she was sure nobody would miss her much. Perhaps her father would though.

Sitting inside her room she looked up at the walls and waited. It was not long before her father came in and sat down beside her. She smiled and leaned into his warm body. It was very clear to Aurelilla that he did not like her actions tonight. She had time to think about what she had done and came to the conclusion that he was right. It was foolish. She never really did think, she was on the impulsive side at times. How could she tell her father that she thought the older man liked her? Well, she was wrong. He didn't care. She was just some pesky young girl to him.

Aurelilla felt safe next to her father. She liked the feel of his lips against her when he kissed the top of her head several times. She loved to sit on his lap when she was a little girl. Now that she was older, she didn't think he would allow it. She missed those times. As she looked at him she listened to his words and suddenly her face dropped with immediate jealousy when she learned that her sister was to wed. Why does Marcia get the honor of meeting a fine man but not her? Then again she had to remind herself that she wasn't good enough. She never would be. Of course her mother would remind her of that when she would speak to her of her wrongdoings once again.

"I am sorry father for disappointing you tonight. I didn't mean to. It is such a pretty night outside. I was merely looking up at the stars. I couldn't resist sitting in the fragrant garden. There is much beauty there to behold" A small smile formed on her lips before looking back down watching her fathers feet as he moved them nervously. He suddenly stood up and again and walked towards the door of her room. She didn't want him to leave. Her arm rose up slowly, her hand outstretched as if to bring him back, but he was soon gone, gone to the arms of her waiting mother.

Aurelilla never felt so much dread in her entire life. Her stomach lurched with anxiety. She began to pace the room rapidly thinking of ways to escape the confrontation. Her mind began to think irrational thoughts of running away. Of course it was something she would never do, but it would be better than facing her angry mother. She was trapped, doomed. There was nothing she could do. Reality sunk in and she knew that she would have to sucumb to her punishments. The thought suddenly made her cry softly. Why did she always have to do stupid things? Why couldn't she just be a good girl and make her mother proud for once? She made so many mistakes and if a scandal broke out, or if her sisters wedding was ruined it would all be her fault. Maybe she was no better than a lowly slave. She was unworthy to be her mothers daughter.

Unable to cope with her stifling feelings any longer, she sat down and took out her parchments and began to write. All her emotions pouring out at once flooding the paper. A few drops of her tears fell down, staining the ink and causing her eyes to blur. Wiping them with the back of her hand carelessly, she continued on until she heard the familiar rapid footsteps of her mother. She stiffened and her heart raced. She didn't know what was in store for her but she had a feeling that it wouldn't be good. Quickly standing up to greet her, she forced a smile and looked her in the eyes. A pained expression filled her face despite the fact that she was trying desperately to shake it off.

"Hello mother" she said. Her voice coming out higher than normal..

 

[Lady_Mornington]

Aurelia Marcia

A gentle smile briefly caressed Aurelia's face as she beheld her husband's sleeping form. In the flickering light of the candles his features seemed younger, lacking the hardness that a life under arms and a political career had rendered it. She kissed his shoulder gently, not wanting to disturb his slumber. Her husband had been working tirelessly for the benefit of not only himself but the Marciae Nervae as a whole, and even though Aurelia may not be best pleased about the whole issue of Marcellus Flavius, she could see that it was a prudent decision of her husband's. With Gaius' name and patronage Marcellus would be able to rise to become a legate should he so desire, and with the blood-ties to the Scribonii then he would be the guarantee that the Marciae Nervae would be able to retain their position.

Aurelia sighed as she quietly got up from the bed, motioning for Desma to help her disrobe from the tatters of her palla. The situation as a whole called for cool heads and rational thought, thus she would be as supportive of her husband's wishes as was humanly possible. What did her own injured pride mean in the great scheme of things?

Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

She sat back as Desma began arranging her hair, working the tressles that her coupling with Gaius had brought on, out of it. Her gentle touches as soothing as always. The girl was worth her weight in gold, and Aurelia gave a silent thanks to her mother for having given her the gift that was Desma. In all things Aurelia had strived to emulate the traits of her mother. Lavinia Aurelia had been her paragon, and hard as she may tried she knew that she would never amount to the same standards. Then again, she was also gifted with a gentler husband than she had been. Titus Aurelius Orestes had worked his whole life to ensure that the family would rise from the Equestrian stratum to the Senatorial class. He had served as a legate under Gaius Marius in Gaul and had showed a considerable aptitude for matters military. After serving his term he had established himself as one of the premier merchants, controlling a considerable chunk of the grain runs from Egypt. With vast landholdings in Campania and a purse to match his status, the Aurelii Orestes had managed to ingratiate themselves with the Senatorial class, foremost so through Aurelia's marriage to Gaius. Titus Aurelius' alliance to the Caesarian faction, through Marius had thus served to strengthen both parties, securing Gaius' career as well as the social status that Titus had coveted.

Her marriage had been a political one, as much as Marcia's to Marcus Scribonius would be. It was the rule, and it would indeed be a strange thing should a union be built on such fickle things as love. Her mother had instilled the notion that one had to work for such to blossom, and in that aspect Aurelia could count herself fortunate. Gaius did indeed differ from most of his contemporaries, a situation that was if not unique, then at least highly unusual. She smiled softly, seeing her refection in the polished bronze mirror. At least in one aspect she had been blessed. Nodding a thank-you to Desma as she got up, quietly washing the traces of her own and Gaius' union from her body before donning a new palla.

Slipping from her chambers, leaving Gaius in the arms of Morpheus, while she purposefully strode through the house towards Aurelilla's chamber. She needed to speak to her youngest, knowing that Gaius would probably have let her off all too easy. It was his one fault, she decided, his inability to see that his youngest daughter was anything less than perfect nor that her behaviour wasn't merely a sign of her dreamy disposition. In all honesty Aurelia could agree to the fact that her youngest did not exactly do things out of malice. Aurelilla seemed blissfully void of such sentiments. The outcome of her thoughtless manner did, however, amount to the same. Juno be thanked that no one had been there to witness the dalliance with Marcellus Flavius. The scandal it might have caused would be enough to put of the wedding between Marcia and Marcus Scribonius, and if it would come to that, Aurelia would have cast the girl out.

She opened the door, seeing her youngest daughter jump as she did. Her tone betraying her apprehension and perhaps fears for what was to come. Aurelia steeled herself to act in a manner that would underline the gravity of the situation without being overbearing. She had come to learn that neither anger, nor force really helped with the girl, something that had caused her to think her youngest to be somewhat simple. Her disposition certainly spoke of such as did the shyness. Perhaps Aurelilla did not, in truth, possess the mental faculties to handle herself. It would be something of a blessing, even with the shame that such an affliction carried with it. Simple or not, the girl would still make for a good wife, the family name carrying enough status to ensure that.

Aurelia sat down, fixing her youngest with a long stare and watching as she fiddled with the hem of her palla. It seemed to be the natural state of hers, always trying to avoid facing up to the present. Aurelia sighed, bestowing Aurelilla with another long stare as she addressed her.

"Your father told me about your antics with Marcellus Flavius and I trust that you are aware of just how serious this is Aurelilla. You're not a girl anymore but a daughter of the Marciae Nervae, and as such you are required to behave as it befits such a position." She got up from her seat, walking over to the desk where a wax tablet lay open. Picking it up she saw line after line of Aurelilla's surprisingly nice handwriting, in what was for all intents and purposes something akin to a love poem. Looking at her daughter again, her eyebrow slightly arched in a wordless question, but as her daughter remained silent she found herself unable to bite back the venomous reply that had formed in her mind.

"What is this nonsense? Love poems? Seems we've got a proper little Sappho here." Aurelia bestowed her daughter with a non-committant gaze before erasing the words written on the page of wax. "This will have to end Aurelilla, and I implore you not to mention this again." She moved closer, trying for more consoling a tone. "And please forget any romantic ideas you may have harboured for Marcellus Flavius. Your father will never agree to a marriage is that clear?" She watched how Aurelilla nodded, her eyes already pooling with tears. Harsh as it may seem Aurelia retained her distance, the pain that her daughter experienced now would teach her about the folly of love. Especially when the object of her affection for all intents and purposes would become her brother if Gaius had his wish.

"I hope you understand the gravity of the situation my dear. I will no tolerate any further disrespect to your father nor me, and believe you me my dear, I won't hesitate to take the whip to your bottom should you persist." She placed her hand under Aurelilla's chin, turning her face upwards and adding in a softer tone. "There's a good girl. Now give me a kiss and go to bed. You will have to help your sister tomorrow, there's a wedding to be planned and all." She offered her daughter the shadow of a smile before leaving her room, stopping only outside Marcia's chamber, but deciding not to enter. There would be ample time to discuss the proceedings in the morning.

 

[magbeam]

Gaius Marcius Nerva

Gaius woke up luxuriously slow, stretching and yawning wide, reflecting once more on how good it felt to be out from Caesar's army. The man was Herculean, there was no doubt; but he was also Spartan, performing above and beyond what nearly any mortal man, even Cato, could aspire to match. As well he might; being descended from Venus by her son Aeneas, was Caesar not above the rest of the purely-mortal inhabitants of this earth? Caesar ate quickly and sparsely, operated on little sleep, was like an animal when he exercised. He liked to set an example, which was all well and good; but when he expected his officers to set similar examples, every day, for years on end...

But not any more, and it left Gaius with a much deeper appreciation of his ability to spend mornings sleeping in next to Aurelia, whose presence he could tell by her warmth before he had even opened his eyes. When he finally did, he smiled at the sight of Aurelia's pale body curled next to his. He reached out, stroking it lightly with just the tips of his fingers, running them up the profile she presented, ending with a soft caress of her face. He was quite lucky. No, very lucky, lucky beyond anything he had any right to, to have been married to such a woman as Aurelia.

Gaius had not intended to wake her, and had in fact had the intent of letting her sleep while he rose, but as he started to move he heard a half-sleepy murmur behind him. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he looked back to see a tired smile looking up at him from beneath her curls.

"Good morning, love," he said, leaning back to down to kiss her. "I trust you slept well and are feeling better? I was like the proverbial rock. More tired than one of Caesar's forced marches. We shall have to try this...well, no sense in being crude," he amended, Antony still fresh in his mind. "But it is wonderful to be back with you nevertheless." His hand moved down to cover hers, their fingers playing. He looked at her hungrily, then shook his head. There was work to do, and he was no sensualite to put his physical pleasures ahead of his duty.

"Did you speak with Aurelilla, love?" he asked, then listened to Aurelia's answer. He shook his head slightly as she spoke, quickly explaining himself. "No, I'm not shaking my head at you, dear, the gods know you acted more appropriately than I did. I just...I am glad that at least one of us has the capacity to act as a just parent. I just wish that...Well, it does not matter, it had to be done. But poor Aurelilla nevertheless." He sighed, standing up and summoning a slave to help him dress.

* * * * *

Breakfast was the usual small loaf of bread torn and dipped in warmed honey, with fruit and mulled wine to accompany it. He had never really enjoyed the soldier's ritual bitter morning drink of posca but had slowly acquiesced to it through the inertia of going through the motions day after day; he was glad to shed it. Marcellus did not appear, and the reason became clear when the lictors and Hermes allowed through a State slave, bearing a message from the Proconsul to all senators, that a meeting of the Senate was to be convened at mid-day. Much easier just to meet the man there, and he seemed to have the same idea; no doubt he found it much preferable to having to brave Aurelia, and Gaius allowed himself a chuckle at the thought.

Marcia approached the table, Gaius kissing her on the cheek before she sat down on the couch beside him. "Good morning, my little dove," he said happily, in good spirits. "How are you, this morning? Prospects of marriage not too daunting, I hope? No," he said with a smile. "Never you, not my Marcia. I've been summoned to a meeting of the Senate this afternoon by the imperator; it is quite likely I shall see your betrothed there, is there any message you would like me to convey?" Gaius nodded at her reply, finishing his meal with a soldier's haste before rising, kissing her forehead again.

"I must be off to have a word with your sister. She is in a small bit of trouble...Never mind what, but please do be nice to her today? For your father's sake?"

It was a short walk to Aurelilla's room, and after a quick knock, Gaius walked in, finding his younger daughter sitting, melancholy, on the bed. "You did not come out to eat, dear...Are you not hungry?" he asked, sitting down next to her, holding her against him with a fatherly arm. "What's wrong, Aurelilla? Your mother? She told me what she did last night." He kissed her forehead, stroking her shoulder tenderly.

"You mustn't be angry at her, Aurelilla, you know. She's done what is right and proper. You did a very shocking thing, my dear, very shocking indeed, and she did what I ought to have done. Not that I would have wanted to, Aurelilla, and by now you should know that your mother did not want to either. She had to. There is a big difference between duty and desire and learning to put the former before the latter is an important aspect of becoming an adult."

Gaius held her close, rocking her gently, finally speaking. "You and Marcellus will never be allowed to be together. I am sorry, Aurelilla, this is just the way it has to be. Hopefully you will learn why very soon, but for now...I am sorry. But," he added, trying to make her happy, "Now that your sister is being wed, I promise I will redouble my efforts to find a groom suitable for my little treasure. Doesn't that make you happy, your father finding you a nice, rich, handsome husband with plenty of slaves and maybe a villa in Pompeii?"

Gaius kissed her again, then stood up to leave, fetching Solon and a number of others. His duties as Praetor Urbanus would leave him in the cramped offices at the Senate House for some time, likely, and he wanted to visit the baths afterwards.

* * * * *

The Senate meeting was little more than a flurry of emergency spending bills and government statements and laws concerning the army and foreign relations and grain requisition. Routine for the most part, but when there was a civil war everything was routine, especially when the usurper was in command of the government and doing everything in his power to continue to rule by the laws of the Republic. And to do that and counteract opposition, he needed every senator he could get. Unsurprisingly, after a number of lictors evicted a Pompeian tribune on public order charges, the meeting went smoothly, with all quickly voting to support Caesar's motions.

It was afterwards, when milling about in the social gathering that preceded and anteceded all Senate meetings - senators were all gossips at heart - Gaius finally found who he was looking for. Hurrying over, he greeted the man.

"Marcellus! So glad to see you. So...have you given any thought to my suggestion of last night?"

 

[Anael]

Marcus Scribonius Decio Dodonicus

Marcia responded with what could only be honesty. Being a senator, Marcus Scribonius Decio Dodonicus the Younger was used to lies and deception, veiled truths and red herrings. Some days at the senate he would play a game with a close friend, identifying the lies for what they were. But here and now, standing opposite Marcia in the now deserted triclinium, nothing told him she was lying. Most people had a tell, a flick of the eyes, a change in the voice, a movement of the head, but Marcia made no signs of having said anything but the truth.

Before he could respond, her smile broke through his thoughts, her eyes twinkled in the lamp light and she took his hand in her smooth one. She seemed to consider the two sides of him. His palm, his hidden side, held close, the reverse with his ring, his public side, then kissed his ring. It polite, correct and exactly as the unwritten rules said it should be, not too long, not too short, respectful and Marcia had slipped effortlessly into the role of hostess. Marcus knew he would have to wait to see the other side of Marcia, just as she would have to wait to see his private side.

However, everything she said showed she was intelligent and would not be the deaf and dumb wife most senators had. She would be the perfect wife in public, polite and respectful, but in private he was sure that she would both understand and have an opinion in matters outside of the house. She could and would run the household in a way in which the rest of Rome would envy.

“Don’t you worry Marcia, your father and I will ensure everything is proper and correct, as for the ceremony itself, I am sure that your mother and sister will be preparing it already. As for our future, you need not worry Marcia, you will bring your father a grandson I am sure. I will make all the arrangements with your father tomorrow and the papers will be prepared as soon as possible.”

Marcia’s emerald eyes were scanning the room subconsciously, she was slipping back into the role of hostess. Before she opened her lips to speak, Marcus was nodding his head in consent, already aware that she must go and check on the other guests.

“Marcia, my dear, I shall depart and return in the morrow, for it appears your father has retired too. The Gods will grant us all the time in the world. Do tell your father I shall stop in tomorrow to discuss the arrangements if that is convenient. Goodnight.”

With that, Marcus bowed his head and smiled at his wife to be, before stepping out into the cool night air of the courtyard and departing with his two licters.

 

[Randolph]

Marcellus

Reclining among the cushions of his litter on the return to Ostia, Marcellus could not get comfortable. The dinner at the Nervae household had promised much but left him confused and strangely frustrated.

He was honoured, of course, by Gaius’ proposal - who would not be? This man was Praetor Urbanus; trusted by Caesar. Who would not be flattered by such generosity from so noble a patron. Why then was he not overjoyed at the prospect of becoming a Marciae Nervae?

Marcellus would accept, of course. Out of courtesy he would speak to his mother first, but there was no other course of action open to him - if he did not want to risk insulting and affronting such a man as Gauis Nerva. And here lay his frustration and the source of his anger. He had no choice! His desires his fears… all of these were made immaterial at a stroke. The Tribune could abandon his name and his family and became a vassal of the Praetor, or else he could consign them all to a life of infamy. Either way he felt, deep down, he must betray everything that the Caunae had toiled to build by blood and sweat over the long years. It mattered little whether, or not, this was the smart move politically. On balance it probably was - but at that moment, in the darkness with his head pounding from the tension and the wine it felt like betrayal.

But there was another, darker emotion that stabbed him; goring him so deeply that he would not acknowledge the wound. A craving gripped him. It was a desire greater than anything he had experienced before. Above family, above honour and reknown, Marcellus yearned for Gaius’ daughter and if he accepted her father’s proposal of adoption it meant that he could never possess her.

The litter arrived at the villa. Philo came out to greet him and help him inside. Marcellus wanted to speak to the steward, to gain counsel and wisdom from his father’s most trusted servant but he was tired and Philo seemed distracted so the timing was not propitious. Upon the morrow, rested and with a clear head he would confide in the old Greek and then go and see his mother.

“So, Philo, an interesting evening – interesting and tiring. What is the matter here, what have I missed at the homestead?”

“Staff trouble sir,” Philo sighed, “nothing for you to worry over...”

“Tell me,” he demanded.

“Well sir, Selene – the Dalmatian – she ran amuck earlier this evening! She half destroyed the kitchen and nearly blinded the cook!” The steward shook his head.

“Have you dealt with her yet?” Marcellus asked.

“No sir…”

“Send her up to my room.”

***

Next day, in the Senate, Gaius Nerva approached him. “Marcellus! So glad to see you. So...have you given any thought to my suggestion of last night?" Gaius greeted him.

Marcellus looked terrible. There were dark rings beneath his eyes as though he had not slept. His face and neck were scratched as if he had been clawed by a dog or a lynx.

“I have indeed, Praetor and I am honoured to accept.” Marcellus bowed his head, hiding his gaze.

 

[magbeam]

Gaius Marcius Nerva

"Ha! Splendid, my boy, splendid indeed. And surely we're beyond titles by this point? I would certainly think so!" Smirking in a most self-satisfied manner, Gaius clapped the young man on the shoulder, relief of having his problem solved and not needing to be humiliated combining with the euphoria of the last few days - the return to Rome and his family, Caesar's unopposed acclamation and his election to Praetor Urbanus, Marcia's engagement and now this - quickly elevated him to a plane of joy that Gaius had not felt in a long time, since before the war in Gaul and the political troubles had begun, and left as its mark a wide smile on his easy features.

"Splendid indeed," Gaius repeated, paternally grasping the arms of the young man who would soon make the journey from Marcellus Flavius Cauno to Marcellus Marcius Nerva Flavianus. "We will make the necessary arrangements as soon as possible, I think. It'll be best for the both of us. Now, any magistrate will...Father Jove!" Gaius smacked himself on his head lightly for his stupidity. "What am I saying? I am the Praetor Urbanus, surely I can find it within myself to arrange a simple writ of adoption. We could do it today, in fact, although I'm not urging any dramatic haste, you must understand, my boy...I do hope you won't mind the appellation somewhat prematurely?" Gaius smiled. "I just feel so remarkably free about this whole situation. I have a wonderful house, property, name, and it will all be yours, my boy, once the gods take me. Where was I? Oh, yes, the payment. Now, with your father gone I'm sure there's some legal loophole saying I don't need to pay, and while I wouldn't want to seem crass I very much doubt your mother will starve away now, and it won't be like you'll never see her again, but I figure I can arrange a nice sum. Consider it a first payment towards your next election if nothing else..."

Gaius stopped speaking for a moment, for the first time realizing that he was in an utterly one-sided conversation. He took in Marcellus's features and sullen demeanor, a small, half-nervous frown replacing his happy smile.

"Marcellus? What is the matter, my boy? In the name of the gods, what happened to you? You look like a slave at her master's funeral. Or like you ran into a Fury on your way here." Gaius was slightly confused and growing more so. "Stay up all night drinking, did you? Well, far be it from me to prattle on now, but morality aside I can tell you from personal experience that it is not the best way...Ah, Marcus!"

Gaius grew animated once more, his happy wide smile returning as he spotted Marcus Dodonicus among a knot of senators shambling towards the theater's exit, and flagging him down in a manner that vinegary old Cato surely would have scowled at had he been here - another reason to applaud Caesar assuming the reigns of power, the more miles between that Stoic drunkard and the City the better, in Gaius's opinion.

"Hello there, Marcus, so glad to see you! Marcia sends you her best wishes and assures you that she and Aurelia will not rest until they have planned the ideal wedding. And while I fear on behalf of my purse, nothing less than their utmost will be tolerated by me for welcoming the union between our houses. I don't know if you heard in all the hubub of last night," Gaius turned back to Marcellus from Marcus, sighing slightly ruefully at the memory of the previous night's near-debacles, "but Marcia and Marcus here are to be wed. And you, Marcus, are the first to hear the new news - Marcellus here has agreed to become my son and heir."

Gaius happily looked at the two men around him. One senator was useless, two were bath friends, three was the beginning of a faction. "I hope you two liked each other last night, because you're about to practically become brothers." Dreams of the consulship began to dance in his head.

 

[Randolph]

Marcellus

Gaius’ good humour was contagious and with the slightly awkward formality of his acceptance over, Marcellus felt his mood lighten. There was much to be said, after all, for aligning oneself with such a family. The obvious advantages were many as he had been at pains to point out to his mother during their conversation late the previous night.

She had been concerned, of course. War seemed certain and yet there was still much uncertainty over how events would unfold. If Marcellus were to ally himself so intimately to the Marcia Nervae there could be no going back. His fortune and that of his household would be irrevocably tied to Gaius’ – and to Caesar’s – cause.

“What would you have me do, Mother?” he had at last become exasperated. His head felt like it might burst. “Shall I throw this back in the Legate’s face? Do you think it wise to make such enemies in the Senate at a time like this?”

His mother’s face was pale in the lamplight. She was a strong, decisive woman and yet her hands wrestled in her lap. “You are the head of our house, my son and it must be your decision. I say only that you are mistaken if you think there is no choice! Please consider all the options before you act. Philo, tell him…”

The steward looked troubled and held his tongue. Marcellus continued as if he had not heard her. “Perhaps you believe we should throw everything on the back of a cart and flee south to Pompey? How sure can you be of your reception at his hands? Times change and a good deal of water has flowed into the bay since your brothers fought his wars. Remember also how they were rewarded for their pains! It was not their gold but my father’s that built this house…”

Philo had at last intervened, keeping emotions from over-heating and at length the debate reached the inevitable conclusion without undue rancour or too many tears. His mother retired but Marcellus was too uptight to sleep. Fortunately there had been the matter of the unruly Dalmatian slave and her discipline to settle when finally retired to his chamber.

She had submitted to the whip meekly enough, biting back her screams, whimpering and moaning as he worked the crocodile-hide lash expertly over her naked, cringing flesh. Only after, as Marcellus set aside the whip and began to punish her with his own body, did she resist him. She bucked and writhed beneath his thrusts, biting and scratching any part of him that she could until at length they both lay exhausted, their glistening limbs bruised and blood-streaked but entwined still in the grey light of dawn.

A grey dawn but a new one indeed, Marcellus reflected, returning to the present and basking in his adoptive father’s smile. A new dawn for them all. The die is cast, let the lots fall as they may...

"Hello there, Marcus, so glad to see you…” Gaius had spotted Marcus Dodonicus near the exit. Marcellus turned, keeping his smile in place though his head pounded like an anvil and he craved a cup of wine.

“I don't know if you heard in all the hubub of last night," Gaius turned back to Marcellus from Marcus, sighing slightly ruefully at the memory of the previous night's near-debacles, "but Marcia and Marcus here are to be wed. And you, Marcus, are the first to hear the new news - Marcellus here has agreed to become my son and heir. I hope you two liked each other last night, because you're about to practically become brothers."

“I cannot think of a circumstance that would make me happier,” mumbled Marcellus, nodding toward Marcus. In truth, they had traded pleasantries only during dinner. It was abundantly clear to him that the man had already fallen heavily beneath the flame-haired Nerva witch’s spell.

Marcellus looked Marcus up and down. He was quite tall - a very upright, tidy sort with his neatly trimmed beard and manners. Marcellus could find no reason to dislike him and yet there was something about Marcus that made his neck stiffen, like a breeze from a midden passing beneath his nose. It was as though his very air of propriety, his dignity and good grace were an affront to the Tribune. Unaccountably, these qualities were becoming increasingly irksome and he did not know why. As a man of action, Marcellus was not given to inner contemplation. He had not yet come to gaze upon and recognise the seething, bubbling cauldron of lust that lay hidden at his very core. The harshness and brutality of the two-year campaign in Gaul had masked this darkness in his soul. In fact, it had liberated him; enabling him to thrive and excel when others faltered and despaired. Now that he found himself back within the bounds of civilisation, the strain was beginning to take its toll.

“Come, gentlemen,” Marcellus' gaze roved the walls of the theatre like a cornered beast. He licked his lips. A nerve began to jump in the corner of one eye. “All this talking makes my throat dry… What say we celebrate our new bond with a toast!”

 

[Lady_Mornington]

The Antoniae

"What's her name then?"

The lithe woman smiled wolfishly as she rolled over on her stomach, lazily running a finger down her husband's spine. "Or was it more than one?" The smile turned even more feral as she leaned forward to sink her teeth into his muscular forearm almost to the point where the skin was about to yield to her sharp teeth.

"Son's of Dis woman!" Antony shook his arm free from her and brought the flat of his hand down hard on her soft behind. "Even though I might have wanted to bed the woman and her daughters there are such things as manners. Something you, my dove, are blissfully devoid of." He turned around to face her, grinning at the way she yelped when his palm had connected with her flesh. Fulvia was positively Bacchean, a whore in expensive clothing. There were men who would have budged at such an obvious flaw in a wife's charachter, but Antony treasured it. Apart from being an almost unrivalled beauty, she had an appetite for matters carnal that well matched his own.

"So who was she then?" Fulvia moved closer, draping her slender arms around his chest and kissing his neck. "Some yet to be heard of heterea? Tell me!" The pout on her exquisite features, coupled with the begging quality to her voice usually served to render her desires and wishes come through, and this occasion proved no exception.

"Neither nor my dear." Antony kissed her and then shook her of as he got to his feet, gesturing for the slave to bring him his tunic and senatorial toga. "I made a courtesey visit to our new Praetor Urbanus, I'm sure you remember the man, Gaius Nerva." He stood still as the servants attended to dressing him.

"And I take it that you bedded his wife then? And his daughters too?" Fulvia giggled as she lay back again, watching her husband assuming the official persona of People's Tribune.

"Gods know that I wouldn't have said no, nor would you. But there are such things as manners and more to the point my dear." He turned around as he strapped the torc onto his wrists. "One must wait for the right moment to strike. You of all people ought to know that." He leaned down, kissing his wife again, and as an afterthought, slapped her bottom once more. "You'll behave when I'm gone, or else it's the whip for you." The smile on his face mirrored that of hers.

*****

"People always underestimate me."

Antony mused as he sat through the excruiatingly boring procedures in the Senate. It was a fact. Most of his contemporaries viewed him as little else but Caesar's warhound. A violent brute to be unleashed should the Consul need to deal his enemies a less than subtle blow. It was true, up to a point. Antony was a violent man, but there was a methodology to his use and administration of force. Anyone could be a thug, but it took some cerebral activity to be an efficient thug. From that perspective the image he conveyed to his fellow senators suited him perfectly. Let the dullards believe what they wanted. All the more fools of them when he chose to reveal his true self.

The proceedings and tiresome lithanies of learned rhethoric finally drew to a close, and he got up from his seat with an audible sigh of relief. Politics was such a tiresome charade. Rome belonged to Ceasar, there was no point in pretending anything else. But if Ceasar wanted to do this according to the law, then so be it. As long as he got a chance of putting Pompey and his dogs in their proper place. Antony grinned as he indulged in a fantasy of what would happen when he had them at his mercy; Pompey, Cato and Cicero. Not to mention the treacherous bastard Marcus Junius Brutus. Anyway, it was for Ceasar to decide and for Antony to obey. Ambition aside, Antony was devotedly loyal to the consul, no point in biting the hand that fed him and all that.

He made his way through the throng of senators, crowding the floor of the room, for once thankful for the guard of lictors assigned to him. They wouldn't do in a proper scrap, but they did have a flair for keeping fat, old men out of his way. He suddenly became aware of a huddle of men in one of the corners. Gaius Nerva together with that Scribonius fellow. Antony's brow furrowed. He didn't exactly dislike Marcus Scribonius, but the man seemed far too crisp and clean. There had been no indications of any scandals, and to Antony's mind that was even more suspicious than a reputation for lechery. The other man was the Nerva's laticlavian tribune Cauno, who seemed a bit worse for wear. Perhaps due to the wine of last night, or else Gaius' daughter had kept him awake. It was too good an opportunity to pass up and he strode over to where they were standing, arriving just as Marcellus Flavius suggested a cup of wine.

"Splendid suggestion young man!" Antony's voice boomed as he slapped Cauno's back before turning to Nerva and Scribonius. "Gaius, me old cock! Splendid party you threw last night, and Venus' cunny you're quite the lucky bastard eh?" He nudged his friend in the ribs, causing Gaius to visibly recoil. "Ah no hard feelings, just a friendly compliment. So what's the occasion?" He made a show of cocking his eyebrow as he stared at the three men. "You're not plotting are you? One never knows when it comes to proper politicians such as yourselves."

There was a moment of awkward silence, especially on the part of Scribonius. "Boring twat" Antony thought, before Nerva recounted for what had proceeded.

"Well dress me up in a winged helmet and call me King of the Gauls. You're both having your fair share of luck it seems. I wouldn't mind changing place with you when having your first roll in the hay with young Marcia." He grinned as he shook Scribonius' unresisting hand. "And you Cauno. Moving up in the world. Just make sure you remember that the two little beauties you're going to be housed with are your sisters now. My own are ugly as Belgians so there was no risk of any immoralities taking place but Jove knows if I would have been able to keep in check if they'd been as pretty as yours." He slapped Cauno on the back once again. "Now brothers, a cup of wine to celebrate!"

 

[Anael]

Marcus Scribonius Decio Dodonicus

Marcus rose early and sat in the courtyard of his home under the deep blue sky contemplating the marriage agreement he would have to write up with Gaius Marcius Nerva. He was not entirely sure what it was that he should ask for or accept as terms. Both land and property seemed a good bet, but a well funded election campaign might also be a wise option. Land outside of Rome would provide an income, but would need to be managed, something he could get someone to do. He didn’t see the need for leaving Rome at the moment as it looked like he might gain promotion in the Senate soon enough. He could always extend his house here in Rome and accept some property and land in the Empire. Maybe Gaius would fund an election later on, for it looked like he was destined for great things and together they could make quite a powerful alliance.

His pondering was interrupted by a messenger from the Senate. It seemed a full meeting had been arranged, probably some more “emergency” bills, the ones that everyone would surely agree too, so the reason for having a meeting was like having a broken arrow ….. pointless. Sighing, Marcus headed into his bed chamber where his manservant, Falco, was holding his Senatorial robes ready for him to step into them.

“Falco, prepare for guests, I will invite Gaius Marcius Nerva to come here to discuss the arrangements for my marriage. That way the women can discuss the ceremony and we can deal with the contract in peace.”

Within minutes, Marcus departed his residence for the short journey to the Senate, his two lectors clearing a path through the morning crowds. He arrived in time, taking his seat and settling down to listen to someone prattle on about grain and emergency bills. The ejection of a tribune proved to be the most entertaining moment of the meeting and soon a vote passed the bills unanimously and the meeting was over.

The senators split into the usual social groups as happened after every meeting. It was now that Marcus could drift amongst his colleagues, some friends, some who only had the illusion they were friends. Marcus could find out all sorts of titbits of information during these friendly chats, a lot of which never concerned his department but certainly proved interesting, allowing him to find out who thought what, who was plotting what and what was actually going on. There only a few interesting points to note this morning, mainly the odd senator who was still “secretly” supporting Pompey, even one who was feeding him regular information on what was going on in the senate. Well that could be dealt with, Marcus was sure Gaius would be interested with that little fact. Business was business and after all, alls fair in love and war.

Drifting across the floor of the Senate building, Marcus spotted Gaius, who had cornered Marcellus. The two looked like they were from different worlds. Gaius laughing, joking and all smiles, Marcellus looked like he had strayed too close to the back end of a wild horse and hadn’t slept. Marcus caught the tail end of the conversation as he approached the two, “….but morality aside I can tell you from personal experience that it is not the best way...Ah, Marcus!”

“Brothers! Gaius, my friend, Marcellus, congratulations are in order.”

Marcus took first Gaius’ hand and then Marcellus’ and shook them heartily, a beaming smile on his face as he did so. Marcellus mumbled a reply that Marcus did not catch over the general murmur of the daily gossip. However, the suggestion of a drink he did hear and it sounded like a good idea too until a voice boomed close to his ear. The rude bastard that was Mark Anthony had drifted into the conversation. Marcus decide to hold off inviting Gaius back to his residence to discuss the arrangement till this pompous brat was out of earshot.

“Ah no hard feelings, just a friendly compliment. So what's the occasion? You're not plotting are you? One never knows when it comes to proper politicians such as yourselves.”

Marcus laughed “We were trying to decide what would get you into trouble first, your prick or your mouth.”

It seemed that the general hubbub in the room had drowned out his comment as Gaius explained the reason for celebrating. The way Mark Anthony spoke about his wife to be and sister in law made Marcus clench his fist beneath his robe. Aurelilia may be a naïve little child but given half the chance Mark Anthony would corrupt her and bring disgrace on the family. He doubted that many women in Rome could stand up to this brute. He made a mental note to ensure Aurelilia’s safety whilst he was around and wondered if there was a way he could be taught a lesson as they headed off for a cup of wine.

 

[magbeam]

Gaius Marcius Nerva

Gaius smiled as Marcellus started to lighten up. It was about time. From his expression one would think that he was heading out to a funeral at nightfall, and his own at that. It was only an adoption, by the grace of Juno. And one that he was going to make out like a bandit from. He could at least show some enthusiasm.

For a moment, Aurelia's warning - words of concern, rather - drifted into his mind from last night. She was a very smart woman, in some cases no doubt more perceptive towards the feelings of others than he himself was. Gaius had never doubted that or said otherwise. She had been wary of Marcellus as a son - he knew how much she felt like she had failed herself in not providing them with one - and if this was how the boy was reacting to what was supposed to be good news for all...

Gaius hurriedly pushed those thoughts from his mind. He was an optimistic type; this was surely just a passing cloud in Marcellus's day, too much drinking the night before no doubt, just like he had said. And, more to the point, Gaius had already made the offer, and told others of it. To withdraw now...No, they were both set down this course, for better or for worse, and it was their job to ensure that it was not for worse.

"Congratulations indeed, Marcus, to all three of us," Gaius agreed in good spirits once more, between Marcellus's suggestion and his future son-in-law's arrival. However, a familiar voice from behind him gave him pause.

"Ah, Mark Antony, how nice," he said, forcing a smile at the man's vulgarity. A friend he might be, but his actions last night - and more specifically, towards his womenfolk rather than anything aimed at him himself. "And no offense taken, compliments indeed. I assure you that my wife and daughters were all, ah, suitably impressed with your means of complimenting them. As for plotting, good heavens, man...Although really, if you keep sleeping with other men's wives like you do I don't doubt somebody will be bound to take offense sooner or later, and I doubt that Caesar would much appreciate it at any time, let alone when he's trying to restore morality to the Republic with Cato on the other side."

A thinly-veiled suggestion, since Gaius obviously could not threaten him even if he so wanted. But already it seemed that Antony's attention had drifted; he was now laughing boisterously and clapping Marcus on the back. "Oh, that's a good one, Scribonius, that's a good one indeed! Cock or mouth! Well, if I had my choice I know what it would be, no question of it! And I've always supposed that if it has to be one or the other, then I might as well work hard to make it the more pleasant of the two!"

Laughing a bit despite himself, Gaius tried to steer the conversation onto a topic that was more appropriate to be held in the hallowed halls of the Senate - he was no pontificating moralist like Cato, but still, the Senate was the Senate. "As for this gathering, Antony, no this is not a gathering of the latest cult to be imported from the East. Marcus here is going to be marrying Marcia, who I'm sure you'll recall without any difficulty," his voice heavy with sarcasm, "and Marcellus here is going to become my adopted heir."

Gaius once again tried to contain the scowl that he felt at Antony's words. In this case, it was not just limited to his description of his scurrilous fantasies concerning his daughters, but rather his admonition to Marcellus concerning his future sisters. Especially after last night, they ran somewhat too close to Gaius's fears for comfort - not for Marcia, of course, even if she already was to be moving out with Marcus, but for Aurelilla...One could hope that Marcellus would decide to keep living in his own home, and the two would interact as little as possible.

But still, he could see that his future son was also growing a little red-cheeked; and Gaius felt a small flush of shame. After all, nothing improper had happened and neither of them had likely thought of it, and him to voice private reservations to Aurelia was different than having them voiced in public to his son's shame, even if no one else around likely guessed anything.

"How about that wine, then, Antony?" he asked, diverting the flow of conversation into maybe the one thing that could stop him talking about his sexual addictions, at least until engaging in the act itself. "I know a good little wineshop down the Via Rufina...assuming you're buying, correct?" he asked with a smile.

An hour or so later Gaius reflected that that had been a bad mood; as cheeky as the bastard was Antony's pockets ran deep and if there was one thing he did not mind, it was spending it to spread good wine around with his friends. True, none of the female Marciae might have been there, but there were plenty of barmaids all too willing to get their bum slapped or tits fondled by the most disreputably fulfilling womanizer between the Seven Hills. Finally, after being forced to reject an offer to return to his house for more drinks - he would have done so anyways, even before the implication that Fulvia would be there, clad in her notoriously transparent clothing of Coan silk, and quite eager to meet her husband's friend - just stirred his resolve. He would not like to face Aurelia afterwards, even if he had performed with utter nobility and dignity before Fulvia.

After another round of drinks and several more squealing servant girls, Antony finally took his leave, loudly proclaiming to all that he was going home to fuck his wife and the two girls he had on his arms, and not necessarily in that order, he was gone, leaving Gaius to smile around half-ruefully to his companions.

"Always an adventure with Antony, eh?" he noted.

 

[Esmeralda_Tate]

Aurelilla Nervonis

Aurelilla faced her mother once she entered her chambers. She could tell immediately that she was not pleased with her actions, and Aurelilla felt the familiar dread that always accompanied her when she was in her presence.

She watched as her mother sat down and began to speak to her in a very degrading tone. True, she probably shouldn't have run out like that and spoke to the tribune, but she honestly didn't mean any harm by it. She just wanted somebody to talk to and he was giving her the attention she craved. She couldn't see why this was such a big issue. It's not like anything bad happened. Still, she did not argue with her. She remained quiet with a look of apprehension on her face.

Aurelilla had forgotten to put away her wax tablet that she was writing in a few hours back, and as soon as her mother found it her eyes widened and she gasped. Her precious writing was soon violated when her mother began to angrily erase all the words she put in there. She was hurt that she could do such a thing. Her writing was all she had, and now that was being taken away from her too. She took a few steps closer extending her hand trying to get the tablet, but her mother would not allow her to have it back. Her lips trembled when she was informed that any sort of relationship with Marcellus would be forbidden and she should do her best to forget about it. Tears welled up in her eyes suddenly and she grasped tightly onto her palla, her knuckles turning a pale white. All the work and inspiration she had put forth into that tablet was now lost to eternity. She felt as though her mother was ripping out her very soul. Never had she seen her mother act so cruel before. Aurelilla felt worthless and completely helpless.

Aurelilla's chin was tilted up forcing her to look in her mothers eyes. The threat of the whip caused her to flinch some and she bit her lip as anger suddenly filled her deeply. She did not react when her mother commanded her to kiss her before retiring to bed. She remained still until finally she leaned forward and pressed her soft lips against her mothers cheek. She felt so humiliated, yet she knew there was nothing that could be done. Aurelilla's hopes and dreams were crushed, she would never have the good life like her sister was about to have. Jealousy coursed through her at the mention of the wedding that needed to be planned in the morning. She watched her mother leave and then ran to her bed and began to cry until she fell asleep.

The next morning came all to quick, and Aurelilla did not feel very well. She was in no mood to eat so she opted to stay in her chamber. Sitting on the edge of her bed, she began to replay the nights events over in her mind. Her mother was gravely disappointed in her. She had failed once again.

Suddenly the door opened and her father entered. Her face suddenly changed as a small smile formed on her lips. She made room for him and gladly leaned into his strong body as he held her close. "I am not hungry this morning father" she responded to his question. She wanted to tell him more, tell him all about how her tablet was erased and how her mother threatened to whip her, but she could not get the words out.

She loved her father very much. In fact, she was beginning to love him more than she should. He was never harsh with her, he always made her feel like a princess. In her mind no other man could ever compare to him. She looked up to him and wanted to spend long hours just sitting on his lap like she used to when she was younger. She knew that he was not pleased with what she did, yet he still kissed her and made her feel loved. If only she could feel the same way with her mother. Sitting next to him on the bed, she closed her eyes when he placed several kisses on her forehead. She didn't understand her new budding feelings but she knew that she had to keep them to herself. It was not right to feel such things towards your family members. She wouldn't even dare write about them in her tablet. Still, she couldn't help the fact that her love for her father dug deeper than a normal parent-child relationship.

"Yes father, I would like that very much" Aurelilla said when her father told her that he would try and find a suitable husband for her. It just couldn't be Marcellus. She didn't understand why both her parents were so against him being with her. "I would like to be a wife and mother someday." Her eyes then became dreamy as she continued. "I would like to have a nice home with beautiful horses and good slaves. I would be a good obedient wife father. I know I would. I would make you so proud of me." She then kissed his cheek and smiled.

They conversed for a little while longer until he announced that he must leave. Their visits were always so brief, she always longed for more. "Goodbye father" she said and watched as he walked out of her room, closing the door behind him.

Aurelilla knew that she had to meet her mother and sister downstairs to begin planning the wedding but she was in no mood to do so. Forcing herself to brush her hair and then put on clean clothing without the help of her bodyslave, she made her way down and wouldn't even look anybody in the eye. Shame and guilt still thick in her soul....

 

[LadyAria]

Marcia Nervonis

Marcia watched as her sister sadly approached. Her freshly brushed hair fell over her shoulders curtaining her face. Her gown hung loose and billowed with the fresh breeze before releasing the air. She just oozed of melancholy. Aurelilla was the perpetual wounded child for everyone to cuddle and protect. As usual, the typical self-involved brat sought to ruin Marcia’s special day. Despite everyone’s cheer in the morning light, Marcia knew how close Aurelilla had brought the family to disgrace. Yet, she was the one making an emotional show. Since she walked with solid steps, it was obvious no one gave her the whipping she deserved.

Marcia turned her head to acknowledge her sister’s approach. Her freshly braided hair wrapped around her head and pushed a fountain of curls unnaturally high. The large style jutted out like a fantastic tower weighing down the back of her head. Also, it pushed Marcia’s chin to the ceiling and made her neck dully ached. Strings of fresh water pearls jingled as she moved reminding her to force her head forward. Her gown was a deep purple with tan belting tied unnaturally tight. Twisted in just the right way, the belts pushed her breast up to appear fuller and her waist compressed under the tight lacing. Her lungs fought to expand. Marcia found she enjoy the pain. It reminded her of how incredibly beautiful she was.

“Mother will be here in a few moments,” Marcia said very stiffly to her sister. She wanted to mention the social slip, but knew if would just drive Aurelilla further into herself. Despite her flaws, Marcia did need her sister’s help. A wedding would not plan itself.

“Do you feel alright?” Marcia asked reaching out to touch Aurelilla’s shoulder once she sat down beside her. Marcia seriously reconsidered whether or not she had been beat. She could feel something distinctly different with her sibling. Her hand hesitated in the air before lightly touching her sister’s shoulder in an awkward pat. Her voice lost its edge as she leaned in to whisper in a voice she had not used in years.

“They will forget soon, Lilla. Papa can never stay mad at you long. Please don’t fret.”

Marcia paused and let her hand rest against her soft skin for a few moments. She could not see her face through the hair. Unsure, Marcia pull back her hand slowly and folded it into her lap. She felt weird sitting there with her sister. The usually gifted conversationalist was at a loss of words. Her emerald eyes stared up at nothing and sighed before speaking again.

“I saw the way he looked at you,” she whispered. “The gods are cruel.”

Aurelilla said nothing. The silence stretched out for what felt like an eternity. Her sister did not trust her. She understood. They had lost their ties years ago and grown apart. The separation from their father had effected her little sister much more then Marcia. Aurelilla did not want her comfort. So, Marcia looked about the room for a distraction until she found one.

Marcia studied the fresco on the far wall. It was like the wall had never been there before, but now blazed in vibrate colors. The nymph’s danced and sang to the boy who stared at his distorted reflection. His chocolate hair curled over his sweet doe eyes. His chin promised of a masculinity that would only enhance the perfectly balanced boning. Even the white water lilies that swirled over the water clustered toward him. Not far for the boy, tall shoots of reed hid a single nymph. The wheat color hair faded into the background, but her face could not. The artist had captured the deepest cut of rejection frozen in a lovelorn expression. Her black hollow eyes sucked in every curve of the oblivious male as if he was the only breath her body needed. Marcia looked away in horror. Why had her parents chosen such a ghastly painting? Where the hell was her mother?

 

[Britwitch]

Though her days wereusually both busy and full, Desma enjoyed her life and her role within the house.
Rising before the family was almost second nature to her, making sure the rest of the servants were up and about to ensure all was done before their services were required. Water heated for bathing, food prepared for breakfast, candles and lamps lit as well as fires stoked on the cooler mornings.

Her own duties encompassed the supervision of all of these as well as those requiring her greater experience. Like that of slipping into the bedchamber of Aurelia and Gaius and waiting, silently, ready to tend to their waking desires almost before they could even utter them aloud.

The morning after Aurelia's headache, Desma had also had the task of dealing with the merchants who came to deliver their food and cloth to attend to. She had watched her mother for many a year before the responsibility had become hers.
"Aah, the lovely Desma. always a pleasure on a morning such as this..." Grinned the first merchant who called. Desma rolled her eyes slightly, he said the same thing every time he called upon them. "You'll see I've brought only the freshest, juiciest fruits for you...like always..."
"We'll see about that..." Desma replied flatly. The first time he had flattered her she had blushed like a naive girl but now she knew these were just words and steps in a dance that they would dance again and again.

Desma looked over the fruits in his cart, smelling and testing a few before nodding and signalling for two other servants to take it inside the house. It was, like always, of the best quality not that a merchant in a his right mind could expect to sell anything below the best to such a household.
"That all seemed in order. You will be paid at the end of the month as you always are..." Desma added once the last box of produce had disappeared into the kitchen entrance ready to be turned into sumptious food for the family.

"My, my...they must keep you busy..." The merchant added as Desma turned to leave. She glanced back over her shoulder at him just in time to see his eyes quickly rise from where they had been looking, somewhere south of her waist.
"But of course..."
"I hear you are still unattached, Desma...a sad thing, for a woman such as yourself to be unattached...you know, I have brothers...and sons..." The merchant winked.
"Brothers and sons who want to use an association with the Marciae Nervae to their advantage, no doubt..." Desma replied haughtily. "Well as charming as that offer is, I will have to politely decline...as you say, I am busy..."
Without another word, Desma returned inside. A faint smile playing at the corners of her mouth.

Next came the cloth merchant. Desma knew she would have to ask him to return at a more suitable hour over the coming days, no doubt Marcia would be wanting to look at his stock for her bridal clothing. She selected some samples of cloth for Aurelia to choose from, it was time for new bedding in the bedchambers, as well as ordering more of two or three of the fabrics that she knew Aurelia would inevitably choose. It was knowing things like that, knowing what her mistress would and wouldn't like, that made her the servant she was.

The day passed, much like any other, arranging breakfast, supervising the servants and attending to Aurelia. It was another day like any other and Desma wouldn't want it any other way.