Marc Antony’s Woman: An Impossible Love

Marc Antony’s Woman
By Misha

Disclaimer- Not mine.
Author’s Notes- A Courtesan of Rome is back! And that means so is this fic. We will continue to the finale. This chapter is short and is part of the Victus diamond scene. I take one major liberty and expand the time between Portia making her deal with Antony and trying to break Victus and Syphax out to a few days.
Pairing- Marc Antony/MC
Rating- PG-13
Summary- Portia tells her father about her love for Antony.

Chapter Six: An Impossible Love

It felt so good to sit and talk with Father again, to know he was free. After the turmoil of the last few days, from learning he and Syphax would fight each other to my bargain with Antony, it felt good to know that he could never be used against me again.

I felt guilty about leaving Syphax behind, but I just couldn’t bear the idea of being parted from my father, so I had done the selfish thing and allowed Syphax to sacrifice himself again. But I would find a way to free him, somehow, before this was over. Though for now, I wasn’t thinking about that, I was focusing on my father.

Part of me wished I could just go with him, leaving all of Rome behind, but I couldn’t and not just because of my vendetta against Caesar. There was something else keeping me in Rome, or rather someone… But I didn’t say that out loud, though apparently,I didn’t have to.

As I expressed my desire to go with him, my father gave me a knowing smile “but you have someone special in Rome who you’re not quite ready to introduce to your old father yet, am I right?”

“What?” I asked, startled, and yet, I shouldn’t be. My mother might commune with the goddess, but my father that always been able to know what I was thinking and feeling just by looking at me.

“I’ve been in love, Portia.” He said calmly, “I know what it looks like. Who holds your heart?”

I paused, debating what to say. I could lie and say no one, but… I had never lied to my father and I had no wish to start now, no matter how unpleasant he might find the truth…

“I love Marc Antony,” I admitted, meeting his eyes, preparing myself for his reaction.

He did not disappoint.

“Marc Antony? Our enemy?” My father asked, unable to contain either his shock or his anger. “I’d sooner cut off his head than see him look upon you.”

I wondered fleetingly how Antony would react to that threat and then had the disloyal thought that, fearsome though he may be, my father was no match for Antony. All the better reason to keep them apart. Besides,it wasn’t like Antony and I had the kind of relationship that involved him ever meeting my parents.

That wasn’t what we were.

Yet, I still felt the need to tify it to my father, to explain what I felt. “I see a different side to him when he’s with me,” I said quirky, my hands playing with the skirt of my dress. “He… he despises many of the things about Rome that I do.”

I thought about the hunt, so long ago now, where he had given me Artemis and I had begun to see him as more than another Roman. Or the night we had broken into the Senate and bonded over our mutual longing, before taking the first step towards physical intimacy.

I had cultivated my relationship with Antony both because he was a useful patron and because I was drawn to him physically, but it had become more than that, and it was because of those moments when I was able to see the real Antony and that we had more in common than I ever would have thought.

My father, however, was not convinced. “He is what we despise about Rome.”

I sighed, knowing I would never convince him. How could I, when I barely understood it myself? “I know it can never work,” I said softly, knowing it was the truth. I wanted to kill Caesar, the man Antony was deeply loyal to. Even if there were no other obstacles, I didn’t see how we could get past that. My actions would push us apart forever and yet, I had to see my vow through. I had come this far, sacrificed this much, and I couldn’t let anything stand in my way, not even Antony, and yet… “I can’t help what I feel.”

I blinked back tears, refusing to let them fall. It had been too many years since I’d cried and I would not start now and not over Antony, of all people. Besides, why should I cry over him? I had been in his bed just that afternoon and he had only let me leave with the promise of returning swiftly. Whatever, the future held for us, for the moment, I had Antony’s favor and perhaps something more…

As I blinked back the tears, my father reached for my hand, his voice softening, “I just don’t want to see you get hurt.”

I resisted the urge to laugh. It was far too late for that. I was in too deep now. I loved him. Despite my best attempts to keep my heart hard and not get emotionally invested, I had fallen in love with the last man I should.

“Does he love you?” My father asked after a moment, his hand still in mine, I could hear the doubt in his voice even as he asked the question, it was obvious that my father did not believe Antony capable of love.

I paused, considering the question. Did he? He had not said the words, but the way he had looked at me and touched me, the way he had reacted to the words when I said them… I believed that they were all signs that my feelings were returned and yet… He had also asked me to spy on Caesar, doing whatever I needed to do, could a man really love a woman and send her to another’s bed?

But… Even then, he had asked me to do this for him, betraying his doubts in Caesar and asking for my aid, telling me he trusted me… Promising to keep his bed cold until I returned to it… For a man like Antony, that was worth more than any words.

“I believe he does,” I said slowly, “in his own way.”

My father scoffed, “and what way is that? The Roman way? The selfish way?”

“Yes,” I answered, smiling despite myself at the look of outrage on his face, “but that does not mean it is not love.” I pulled my hand from his before rising to my feet, “we are drawing attention to ourselves, we should go.”

My father nodded and pulled me close to him, for one last hug, “I just want you to be happy,” he whispered in my ear.

“I know,” I told him, pushing my coin purse into his hands before we parted ways.

I did not head back to the scholae, instead, I headed towards Antony’s villa, needing to lose myself in his arms for a little while, an impulse I refused to examine too deeply. Besides, Caesar would return soon, so I might as well savor the time I had with Antony, because in my heart, I knew it could not last.