Numb

Numb
By Misha

Disclaimer- Not mine.
Author’s Notes- I started this ages ago, back in December. We were playing around with pairing prompts and one of them was Xanthe and Cassius and I was trying to figure out how that would work and then it occurred to me and the scenario popped into my mind. This is set in my Tragedy verse and takes place immediately after “For Her”. Cassius day of ACoRAW encouraged me to get it done.
Rating- PG-13
Pairing- Cassius/MC, Antony/MC, Cassius/Xanthe
Summary- After Cassius learns of Portia’s fate, he finds himself numb and in need of a distraction. 

Cassius hesitates as he crosses the threshold of Portia’s villa. He has only been here once and the memory of that, of the harsh words he and Portia exchanged, brought a shadow to his face.

She had made her feelings clear then and yet… He has been summoned. His heart is in his throat thinking of why he might have been brought here. Had Portia had a change of heart about her current situation, did she want him to whisk her away from Antony? He knows he should be annoyed at the thought, of being her second choice once regret had a chance to set it, but he knows if that is the reason… Then he will do just that. He will happily take her away from here, give her everything he wanted to months ago… 

However, it is not Portia that is waiting for him, but Sabina, her face a mask of sorrow. His heart clenches, suddenly imagining the worst.

“Portia?” He asks hesitantly, not wanting the answer.

Sabina’s eyes are answer enough.

“How?” He asks, not knowing what else to say. 

Sabina hesitates, averting her eyes. “It was the fever.”

A simple explanation, but he’s not sure he believes it. He had attempted to see her when he returned to  Rome, only to be told that Portia wasn’t receiving visitors. He had blamed it on Antony then, assuming he had left instructions, but what if it had been more than that? 

“Does this fever have a cause?” He asks quietly, not sure if he wants confirmation or denial of his suspicions.

Sabina refuses to meet his eyes, which is answer enough.

“The ch–” he begins, but Sabina cuts him off. 

“Do not ask me that!” She pleads and he sees fear there, it is obvious that she is hiding something, which can only mean one thing. The child lives still but has been hidden. That fills Cassius with smug satisfaction, the knowledge that Antony will be denied his own child. Portia’s child.

Though that satisfaction does not compare to the agony left by the knowledge that Portia had born Antony’s child. The very thought of it repulses him, of Portia belonging to Antony in that way, of the two being tied for all time.

“Why am I here?” He asks instead.

“I thought you could help,” Sabina says instantly, “we’ll need an official story and there are arrangements…” 

Yes, of course. He can see how overwhelmed Sabina is and compassion takes over. “I’ll handle it.”

And he does. He sends for the appropriate people to deal with the body and he and Sabina work out a story with the servants, appropriate amounts of coin changing hands and it is several hours before he is ready to depart. But he hesitates, his eyes traveling around the room, searching for signs of Portia, taking in all the little ways she had made this space hers.

His eyes fell on an ornate knife resting on a mantle. He had seen it once before, had teased Portia about her need to have a knife even in the most intimate of moments. 

“A woman can never be too careful,” she laughed, but there was a sharpness to it. “I’ve learned too well the need to protect yourself.”

A shadow crossed his face at the memory of all she endured and he wrapped his arms around her tenderly. “I hope you know you have nothing to fear from me,” he assured her. 

She smiled, but she didn’t say anything. She just set the knife aside and then pressed her lips to his again, effectively changing the subject…

He’d never seen the knife again. He had taken it as a sign that she had trusted him, but now it occurs to him she may have simply concealed it better. Just like she concealed so much of her true motives and personality from him.

It is an unpleasant thought and yet, Cassius finds himself reaching for the knife. Something about it calls to him, maybe because it is the best representation of who Portia really was, and he finds himself slipping it into his toga. 

Portia is gone and she had never really been his in the first place and yet… He feels the need for something of hers, something to remember her, and so he takes it. 

**

Cassius intends to go home, but he does not. Instead, he makes his way to the scholae. 

It has been over a year since he was last there, since the last time he called on Portia. If Lena is surprised to see him, it doesn’t show. Maybe because the sorrow on her face is too great.

“You have heard then,” he says, “about Portia?”

Lena nods, even as she calls for a servant to bring them wine. “Syphax brought me the news.” Her grief is evident and Cassius doesn’t know what to say to make it better. So instead, he drinks his wine in silence.

He stays long enough to finish the wine, he and Lena exchanging small talk, but it is obvious neither of their hearts is in it and yet, they don’t speak of Portia or share remembrances, despite the fact that they are both feeling her loss. Cassius is sure Lena is trying to be kind, to avoid the fact that Portia rejected him, that she chose another man over him.

As for Cassius, he just doesn’t know what to say. Grief and anger are warring for control of him and the result is leaving him numb, unable to truly process what he is feeling and certainly unable to speak of it.

When the wine is done, he bids goodbye to Lena, wishing he could ease the sorrow in her eyes, but knowing that nothing can, and heads to the exit. He is on his way to the door, not sure why he came in the first place when he hears someone calling his name.

He turns and he sees a woman stepping closer to him. He knows her… One of Lena’s girls, the one who hated Portia so… He struggles to remember her name as she moves towards him, standing closer than their relationship would allow.

“What brings you here today?” She asks him, batting her eyelashes at him, her hand resting on his arm. 

“Just came to see Lena,” Cassius explains, unable to keep his eyes from traveling over her body. His first thought is how unlike Portia she is… But is that necessarily a bad thing? His heart clenches at the thought of Portia… Portia who had chosen Antony over him over and over and was now dead because of that choice. 

This woman… Xanthe… Her name suddenly comes to him… She is the opposite of Portia in every way, but at this moment Cassius can’t help but find that refreshing. This is a woman who never hid what she was and what she was after, unlike Portia who’s beauty and charm hid a woman who he’s not sure he ever really knew. 

He had planned to spend this night very, very drunk, trying to wash away the memory of Portia, but maybe there was another way? Maybe it wasn’t wine he needs but this woman standing in front of him. So instead of removing her hand, Cassius covers it with his. 

“Though, now that I’ve concluded my business with Lena, I find myself in need of some company.” He tells her, smiling at her in a way he hopes conveys interest.

It must because she presses herself closer, draping herself over him. “I think that can be arranged,” she purrs.

Cassius can feel Lena’s judgment as he hands over the coin and then leaves with Xanthe wrapped around him, but he didn’t care and neither should she. She is getting paid after all and he needs to forget. Does it really matter how he does it? Besides wasn’t one whore as good another in the dark?

• End