Marc Antony’s Woman: Everything’s Made to Be Broken

Marc Antony’s Woman
By Misha

Disclaimer- Not mine.
Author’s Notes- This was very emotional to write because there was just so much here. I also combined dialogue from multiple options, because I thought it fit. I am loving writing this series, adding Portia’s thoughts and feelings to the dialogue and adding things that I think the original overlooked (though I am really hopeful I can give these two a happy ending without having to improvise). Also, I rarely suggest soundtrack to my fics, but this chapter was very influenced by Iris by the Goo Goo Dolls.
Pairing- Marc Antony/MC
Summary- After poisoning Caesar, Portia faces her punishment and gets a visit from Antony.
Rating- PG-13

Chapter Nine: Everything’s Made to Be Broken

I was dragged out into the arena, unsure how long I’d been in the dark cell, but I still wore the gown I’d worn the night I’d tried to kill Caesar, though I was sure I no longer looked my best. But I’m sure that was the point.

Caesar didn’t want the people to see the most desired woman in Rome, he wanted them to see the enemy, an evil assassin. As he condemned me as such, I searched the crowd for familiar faces, finding Lena, my parents and then Cassius and Sabina. Finally, I let my eyes drift to Antony, worried about what I would see in his face.

Would there be rage? Would he hate me for what I attempted? To my relief and confusion, there was no anger on his face, only deep sorrow and something I had never seen from him before: fear.

He was afraid because of me, afraid for me.

I had tried to kill the man he was fiercely loyal to, whom he believed he owed everything, and yet he was worried about me. Perhaps he was worried about how my actions would reflect on him, but I didn’t think so.

I knew Antony loved me. He had never said the words, but he hadn’t needed to. I had felt it in his touch, seen evidence in his actions and now I saw it so clearly on his face. He loved me as deeply as I loved him. And yet, it didn’t change our circumstances.

Despite the sorrow in his face and my conviction about his feelings, I knew Antony wouldn’t speak out for me, he couldn’t. And I wouldn’t want him too. If Antony still had any of Caesar’s trust that could serve me better than a public show of support now or at least that was what I told myself as I appealed to the crowd.

It was Cassius who rose to my defense, who swayed the crowd in my favor, bringing them to a frenzy that obviously just angered Caesar more and his eyes were full of menace as his eyes met mine. “Prepare yourself, warrior.”

I knew he meant it mockingly, but he had no idea how true it was.

**

A few days passed. Syphax trained me at night, with the help of Euthymios and my brother, and during the day I was mostly isolated. I was too high profile to be allowed to have much contact with the other gladiators.

On that particular day, all the others had left for training, but I was stuck inside. I was a prisoner, not a gladiator, and afforded different rules. Which was why I practiced at night.

To my surprise, the door to my cell opened and Antony entered.

I could see the worry on his face in the moment before he wrapped me in his arms, holding me tight against him. He buried his face in my hair, as if to convince himself that I was really here.

“Antony,” I whispered, clinging to him, taking comfort in his strength. “I’m so glad you are here. I was worried that something might have happened. That Caesar had taken his wrath out on you instead of me.”

Antony’s place at Caesar’s side at my sentencing meant nothing. Caesar wasn’t stupid enough to publically condemn Antony and admit that his top lieutenant might be less than loyal, especially given Antony’s popularity with the plebs, but he also wasn’t above making Antony suffer privately.

“Don’t worry about me,” Antony commented, his hand cupping my face, “I’m not the one stuck in a cage.”

“As long as I have you, I’m not worried,” I told him sweetly, gazing up at him, letting him see the love in my eyes.

He smiled for a moment and then his expression dropped, turning sorrowful once more. “I wish I could say the same.” He dropped his hand, stepping back. I missed his touch immediately. “Why did you do it, Portia?” He asked quietly, “You betrayed me. We’ve always had our games, but was it truly an act this whole time?”

I studied his face, seeing the genuine emotion there, the hurt and confusion and thought back to how he had reacted the day at the scholae when Xanthe had accused me of plotting with Cassius, how angry he had been, how hurt. He was still hurt now, but there was no anger.

It was kind of funny because then I had only been accused and he had reacted with anger and suspicion and now I was actually guilty, but there was only sorrow and disappointment. It shouldn’t make sense but it did. Because it had never been about Caesar, but about him, about us, and back then he had worried it had all been an act that he was just another patron for me to use, but now… Now he knew better or at least he wanted too. He desperately wanted to believe that what we had was real, I could see it in his face and hear it in his voice.

“Antony, I did it for you,” I told him quietly, reaching out for him. “True, I wanted revenge. But when I poisoned Caesar, it wasn’t Gaul I was thinking of… It was you. With Caesar gone, you could once again rule Rome. The city would be our plaything.”

It was both truth and lie. Obviously, I had wanted revenge and I had been thinking of Gaul, of my family, in every moment, but I had also been motivated by ambition and the desire to see Antony rule in Caesar’s place.

Antony pulled me to him again, his fingers tangling in my hair as he explored my mouth with his. I kissed him back eagerly, wondering if I would ever get enough of this, of him. But all too soon he pulled away.

“You do always know the best lies to tell,” he said with a grin.

I pouted. “It’s the truth! Well… Partly.”

Antony cupped my face in his hand. “I know. The best lies always are.” He sighed, his expression turning serious once more. “But it’s not going to happen. I owe everything to Caesar. I wouldn’t easily sign off on his death, even for all the power in Rome.

“Even for me?” I wanted to ask, but didn’t, there were questions that were better left unanswered and that was one of them.

“Of course not,” I said instead, “that’s why I never told you the plan. If it had gone the way I wanted it too, you would never have known.” He would have simply reaped the benefits, being the obvious person to fill the void left by Caesar’s death.

Antony looked pensive. “If only life were that simple.”

“If only.”

We stood there for a moment, his hand on my face, our bodies close together, the silence both comforting and suffocating at the same time.

After a moment Antony spoke. “I would have come sooner, but I had to be extremely careful so no one knew I was coming. Caesar has been working hard to turn the city against you. You’re quickly falling out of favor here.”

That didn’t surprise me. My popularity and reputation worked in my favour, not Caesar’s. The city loved me and so did it’s most influential citizens. He needed them to see me as a barbarian assassin, not the most coveted woman in Rome.

“I’m sure my actions gained me favor with some,” I replied lightly, remembering how Cassius had stirred the crowd in my favor.

Antony smiled slightly. “I’ll admit, there are some circles celebrating your actions, but it’s only a matter of time before Caesar sniffs them out and crushes them.”

“Is that what you want?” I asked him, studying his face carefully.

“It’s what I should want,” he answered, “but… If there is anyone with the power to turn me from Caesar, it is you.”

My heart leaped at his words, though I knew not to press too hard. The fact that he had admitted that much was huge. “It’s more than that,” I told him, “you miss having control. I know you well enough to know that spark in your eye has faded.”

He smirked. “I do love being in control.”

I return his smirk. “I know you do.” I leaned into him, kissing a trail up his neck to his waiting mouth, suddenly wishing we were anywhere else, not so that I would be free but so that I could let him prove his words. There was nothing I loved more than submitting to Antony physically, letting him take control and bring both of us immense pleasure.

Unfortunately, we were in a jail cell, so I had to settle for a mere kiss, though there was never anything mere about one of Antony’s kisses and his arms locked around me as his mouth devoured mine, leaving us both breathless when we finally parted.

I placed my hand on his chest and gazed up at him. “You can’t be content watching him play king.”

Antony’s face shifted, the look of pleasure becoming one of resignation. “I suppose it’s hardly difficult to guess I might miss the power I had without him here.”

“It’s not hard for him to guess either,” I pointed out, unwilling to pass up a chance to sow some seeds of discontent, “He will never be able to trust you. He knows you’ve tasted power for yourself.”

I could see Antony digest my words, accepting the uncomfortable truth of them. “I was hoping to retain at least some of power,” he admitted, “but Caesar has claimed most of my positions and luxuries for himself. And now that the war is won I’m… restless. I need to be doing things. Planning, plotting, trying to figure out how to wrangle the Senate… Being idle makes my teeth itch.”

I could see that, Antony was not an idle man. Part of me wishes I had had a chance to see him in the field of battle, sure it was a spectacular sight, though given what uniform he had worn and where he had fought, perhaps it was better that I did not have that mental image. It was easier to pretend that way, to forget how he had risen to his place at Caesar’s side and whose blood was on his hands.

I pushed that thought aside and smiled up at him, “why don’t you channel some of that restless energy with me?”

Antony grinned as he pulled me even closer, making me very aware of the hard strength of his body and how long it had been since we’d been alone together.

“When I was a boy, I sometimes used to sneak down here,” he told me, his hand rubbing my back, “I liked seeing what the gladiators did when they weren’t in the ring. One of them showed me a sacred underground spring below the barracks, where they go to purify themselves before a fight.”

“Are you offering to take me there?” I asked eagerly.

He ran his finger across my lip, I nipped at it playfully, causing him to laugh. “This cell is such a terrible place to be alone,” he mused, “and I have ensured our privacy, for the time being, so we can slip away. If you would like.”

“I’d go anywhere with you,” I told him honestly. Not only did I want to get away from the cell, if only for a little while, I also wanted to be with Antony. As much as I hated to think it, this could be our last chance to be together and I refused to pass it up. I was willing to die for my actions, but if I had to do it, then I would spend whatever time in Antony’s arms I could before that happened.

**