Rome Ficlet: (Cassius/Brutus, 'Guilt')
Apr. 28th, 2007 01:34 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
artyartieCharacters: Cassius and Brutus
Spoilers: Through the river scene (Son of Hades?)
Summary: For![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
babel, who wrote an awesome Cicero/Antony story and gave me the prompt 'guilt' in exchange, with the above characters. It's a whole lot of exposition, and it's my first time writing Cassius, so caveat lector.
***
Cassius doesn’t understand the depths of Brutus’ guilt. The causes of it, certainly, and while Cassius does not shed a single tear for Caesar he knows that Brutus has shed many.
But the Republic cannot afford for Brutus to wallow in his despair. It was Brutus’ conscience and Marc Antony’s insufferable luck that spared the man’s life and brought them to the precipice upon which they now stand. When even Cicero mocks them for not finishing the deed, Cassius cannot help but feel his feet slip across the brink, even if he recognizes the orator’s hand-wringing in Brutus’ own hesitation.
Cassius’ words, flattering, inspiring, and finally pleading, fall on Brutus like water on stone. Even the shock of their exile only evokes the most token resistance, and Brutus spends the trip to Cilicia in a heavy, brooding silence that grows deeper each day, as does the wine in his glass each night.
As they linger in the distant province, on a true fool’s errand, Brutus’ despondency slides into full out despair. Cassius’ words are not fawning or cajoling now; they are bitter, angry, and one night where both of them drink too much and think too little, they are a cause for deepest remorse. Brutus asks him if there anything his heart of stone regrets, and Cassius lashes back, saying he regrets even counting him among the liberators in the first place. Brutus crumples, and yet Cassius is too drunk and too angry to take the words back.
The next day Brutus vanishes, as if into the thick, oppressive heat, and Cassius is genuinely worried, even through the dull, pounding headache that comes from drinking underdiluted wine. When Brutus finally returns, long after the torches are lit, and regards Cassius with an apologetic yet steadfast gaze, Cassius feels hope flutter in his chest.
Brutus’ beard, thick and unkempt, is gone the next morning, as is his sullen silence. Although his eyes shine with a newfound clarity and purpose, Cassius can still discern a remnant of guilt, lingering in the shadows. He would not be Brutus without that guilt, without the traces of regret that anchor him so deeply to humanity. Moments like these, he almost envies Brutus such weaknesses.
His life, and his fate, however, will make no such allowances.
Spoilers: Through the river scene (Son of Hades?)
Summary: For
babel, who wrote an awesome Cicero/Antony story and gave me the prompt 'guilt' in exchange, with the above characters. It's a whole lot of exposition, and it's my first time writing Cassius, so caveat lector.***
Cassius doesn’t understand the depths of Brutus’ guilt. The causes of it, certainly, and while Cassius does not shed a single tear for Caesar he knows that Brutus has shed many.
But the Republic cannot afford for Brutus to wallow in his despair. It was Brutus’ conscience and Marc Antony’s insufferable luck that spared the man’s life and brought them to the precipice upon which they now stand. When even Cicero mocks them for not finishing the deed, Cassius cannot help but feel his feet slip across the brink, even if he recognizes the orator’s hand-wringing in Brutus’ own hesitation.
Cassius’ words, flattering, inspiring, and finally pleading, fall on Brutus like water on stone. Even the shock of their exile only evokes the most token resistance, and Brutus spends the trip to Cilicia in a heavy, brooding silence that grows deeper each day, as does the wine in his glass each night.
As they linger in the distant province, on a true fool’s errand, Brutus’ despondency slides into full out despair. Cassius’ words are not fawning or cajoling now; they are bitter, angry, and one night where both of them drink too much and think too little, they are a cause for deepest remorse. Brutus asks him if there anything his heart of stone regrets, and Cassius lashes back, saying he regrets even counting him among the liberators in the first place. Brutus crumples, and yet Cassius is too drunk and too angry to take the words back.
The next day Brutus vanishes, as if into the thick, oppressive heat, and Cassius is genuinely worried, even through the dull, pounding headache that comes from drinking underdiluted wine. When Brutus finally returns, long after the torches are lit, and regards Cassius with an apologetic yet steadfast gaze, Cassius feels hope flutter in his chest.
Brutus’ beard, thick and unkempt, is gone the next morning, as is his sullen silence. Although his eyes shine with a newfound clarity and purpose, Cassius can still discern a remnant of guilt, lingering in the shadows. He would not be Brutus without that guilt, without the traces of regret that anchor him so deeply to humanity. Moments like these, he almost envies Brutus such weaknesses.
His life, and his fate, however, will make no such allowances.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2007-04-28 03:59 pm (UTC)It was absolutely the best to wake up to this. It may be the first time you're writing Cassius, but for me, this sounded exactly like the Cassius we see in the series. Which is not an easy thing to do, I think. And all the nods back to my fic made me grin. :>
no subject
Date: 2007-04-28 04:28 pm (UTC)