In Another Life

In Another Life
By Misha

Disclaimer- Not mine.
Author’s Notes- I got a request for a fic where MC returns to Gaul and hears about Antony’s death years later. I knew it absolutely would not work for Portia or Moira, but I was intrigued. I had been planning on creating a third MC for Cassius and so this is the beginnings of her. This is now how I actually plan on her fate playing out, but it is one possibility. And it is my first chance to introduce you to Brighid of the Cimbri.
Pairings- Marc Antony/MC, Cassius/MC
Rating- PG-13
Words- 1116
Summary- Brighid receives news of a former lover, bringing back the memories of another life.

Through the open door of the hut, I heard a word that always made me freeze.

Rome.

It was a word that had held many meaning over my life, including once, briefly, home. But now, it meant caution. It reminded me of who I was and all I had to lose.

I immediately stepped outside, the baby on my hip, and found the source of the sound. There was a stranger, one who had that Roman look about him, speaking to my husband. “Did I hear that you bring news from Rome?” I asked the stranger, stepping towards them.

He looked from me to my husband, trying to decide if he should deliver the news to a mere woman. Romans.

“She is chief of the Cimbri,” my husband told the man, “not I.”

The man looked surprised and then impressed, before nodding, “of course, no disrespect. The news is from Egypt, not Rome. Marc Antony has been defeated. They say he has taken his own life.”

I froze. The words echoing around in my head over and over. Marc Antony was dead.

But it was not the news of the Roman general that stunned me, but the death of a man.

Antony.

I saw him so clearly, stretched out on his bed in all his naked glory, a smirk on his face as he drew me to him for another kiss. The adoration in his eyes, hidden breath that air of self-satisfaction.

Then the picture shifted to the last time I had seen him, all affection wiped out by sheer fury.

“Because I am a foolish bastard who needs to believe there was some truth in your lies, I am giving you the option to go. Leave Rome. Just make it so I never have to see your deceitful face again.”

And I had. I had left Rome and returned to Gaul, gathering what was left of my family and tribe and starting over. It was not an easy life. Gaul was not free and while the Cimbri had some freedom, we were always very aware of the limits of that freedom and what we owed Rome.

Just like I could never forget what I owed Rome.

And one man.

A man who was now gone.

“Brighid?”

I realized that my husband and the stranger were both staring at me and I wondered how long I had been standing there, lost in memories.

“I… I need to check on something in the fields,” I excused, handing the baby to my husband, who took him wordlessly, his face sympathetic. He knew my history, knew who I had been in the years I had been away from Gaul, including what the name Antony meant.

I’m sure the stranger was confused, but I didn’t care. I just needed air. I walked until I was out of sight of the village, alone in the trees and then I let the tears come.

I had come here in this same state once before when the news had reached me of Cassius’s death. Of how he had taken his own life after facing defeat at Antony’s hands. Cassius who I had also once loved. But not enough.

Not enough to survive the hold Antony had held over me sexually. I’d loved Cassius but I’d burned for Antony.  In the end, I had lost them both.

And so I left Rome, married a nice man and concentrated on rebuilding my tribe and forgetting the years I had ever been anything but Gaul. And now, so many years after I’d lost their affections, I’d lost them both again.

Antony was dead.

I didn’t know who I was crying for. Certainly not the man who had died in Egypt, lover of a foreign queen. I didn’t know that man, so why would I mourn him? And the man I had known was gone long before this. Yet, the tears came anyway.

Tears for Antony, for Cassius, for all that Rome had taken from me and then given back. For the small part of me, that still longed for the luxuries of Rome even though I was back where I belonged.

The skies opened up then as if the gods had sensed my grief and wanted to partake in it. The rain soaked me to the bone, the droplets mixing with my tears until I could no longer tell them apart. Finally, there were no tears left and I realized how I would appear to anyone who came across me, the chief of Cimbri drenched, her eyes red with tears. Not exactly a look that would command respect. Especially if anyone knew those tears were for a dead Roman.

I took a deep breath, running a ran through my hair, which was a wet mess. I had cried all I was going to. There was still a pain in my heart, just like there had been when I’d learned of Cassius’s fate, but… It had nothing to do with who I was today. That pain belonged to a different Brighid.

Because whatever it was  Antony and I had had… It had been in a different life for both of us. I was the Chief of the Cimbri, and he, he… had attempted ultimate power and paid the price. I shouldn’t have been surprised. The kind of man Antony was, the way he had lived, it could have only ended like this.

And I had more pressing concerns. Antony’s death would mean a change in power and that could be dangerous for Gaul, for the Cimbri. We would have to watch carefully what came from Rome, keep our heads down and hope the Gods favored us for once.

It was with that thought in mind, I returned home. The rain was still pouring, so everyone was inside. My husband stood when I entered, the baby still in his arms, the rest of the children scattered around the hut.

“Are you…..” He began, obviously taking in my appearance.

I cut him off with a smile, “I’ll be fine. It is the future we need to worry about, not the past.”

He nodded, letting it go. It was one of the reasons I married him, he knew who I was, who I had been and he accepted it and just offered unquestioning support. He was kind and gentle and most of all, he could never have the power to destroy me.

Only two men had had that power and now they were both dead.

But I was still alive. I had survived loving them, survived losing them and now I would survive in a world without either of them in it. Because it was what I did.

  • End

Published by

Misha

Mom. Writer. Dreamer.

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