The Better Man
By Misha
Disclaimer- Not Mine.
Author’s Notes- This is what happens when I research Ancient Rome at 4 a.m. I take some liberties here because in truth, Cassius was said to have been in favor of assassinating Antony as well and was talked out of it by Brutus, but I couldn’t let this idea go and my tragedy verse takes a lot of liberties.
Pairing- Cassius/MC, Marc Antony/MC
Rating- PG-13
Summary- Cassius is haunted by the past as he ponders what to do about Antony…
There was no longer even a question of what to do with Caesar, even Brutus had agreed that he had to die, for the sake of the Republic.
The question was what to do with Antony.
He would never stand by and let them kill Caesar and whatever happened, he would be a thorn in their side.
Did they simply kill him too?
Brutus was opposed. “It would be murder,” he said flatly. “There is no justification.”
“He will rise against us.” Cornelius argued, “and the last five years have shown that Antony is a dangerous enemy.”
Yes, if anything that has been proven time and again as Antony rose to power on the basis of bread and circus, encouraging chaos and madness in his wake.
Both men turned to Cassius. He intended to support Cornelius because Antony was dangerous but as he went to speak the words a memory suddenly overpowered him.
“Does the power mean that much to you?” He asked Portia disdainfully, suddenly feeling as if he was seeing her for the first time. For the last several months, he had been caught up in her spell. She had been the most beautiful woman he had ever met, so cultured and tragic and he had fallen deeper in love with her with every moment and here she was, telling him she had agreed to be Antony’s mistress.
Antony of all people, whose only recommendation was the power he had seized in Caesar’s name.
She hesitated, looking away, and Cassius felt the disgust well up, wondering if he had ever known her and then she turned back to him, her eyes full of sorrow and regret.
“No,” she told him, “I wish it was. It would make it easier for us both.”
Would it? How could knowing that she was just power hungry make anything better? It just made him feel like a fool.
“But the truth is…. I love him!” The words burst out of her, her green eyes full of tears. “I love him.”
And suddenly he knew what was worse. He had wanted to hear those words so badly from her. Had silently begged the gods for her to say them and nothing. She had lain in his arms dozens of times, given him her body, but kept her heart back and he’s felt it. Had known he’d never truly won her.
And now… now she was telling him it was Antony who had gotten past her defenses, her hatred of Rome, who had won that prize. Antony of all people. It felt like the gods were laughing at him…
As he stood there, ready to order Antony’s murder, suddenly all Cassius could see was Portia, her eyes filled with tears as she declared her love for Antony.
It had been four years since Portia had been lost to him forever, destroyed by that love, and Cassius had tried to convince himself she had just been another woman. One who had temporarily bewitched him with beautiful lies, but he had never been successful. There would never be another woman like Portia, even if she had never been his.
And suddenly he knew he couldn’t order Antony’s execration, no matter how much he might want to, no matter the voice telling him Antony was too dangerous.
Because it would feel personal. Because if he did, he’d wonder if he was doing it out of spite, because Antony had had the love of the woman Cassius wanted so desperately. If his hatred was personal, not political.
And he couldn’t live with that doubt, because then he would be no better than Caesar or Antony,
“Brutus is right,” he said briskly, “there is no justification for killing Antony. We stick to the plan, we kill Caesar, no one else.”
Brutus looked relieved and the others resigned and discussions resumed. As they discussed weapons, Cassius was struck with another memory, the knife he had taken from Portia’s home at the time of her death.
Portia might have loved Antony, but she had hated Caesar and that was a death she would have supported wholeheartedly and suddenly Cassius knew what weapon he would use…
- End
Ooh this is perfect!! And the setup for the use of the knife! Aaah!! It’s the perfect amount of angst and i really feel bad for poor Cassius n this. He loses the woman he loved before he ever had her.
Thank you! And yes, I feel terrible for him too, because she made him love her and wasn’t capable of giving him anything in return. Good catch, yes it all ties together. I have two more Cassius-centric stories to write, both taking place before this.
Oh my heart, poor Cassius! Even years later, he’s unable to determine if his ambitions are driven from his sense of justice or his jealousy. This was such a fascinating read Misha!