artyartie: (rome-consolations)
Title: "A Man's Character"
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Brutus/Cicero, if you squint through the spyglass
Words: 3491
Spoilers: Through 1.8 "Caesarion"
Summary: When Antony and his daemon do the unthinkable, Cicero's life depends upon Brutus' faltering courage. (AU, fusion between 'Rome' and 'His Dark Materials). For an introduction to daemons, click here.

Many thanks to my beta, [ profile] cerebel!

One would never discover the limits of a soul, even traversing every road - so deep a measure does it possess. - Heraclitus, Fragment 45 )
artyartie: (rome-consolations)
Characters: Cassius and Brutus
Spoilers: Through the river scene (Son of Hades?)
Summary: For [ profile] 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.

It is not that Cassius cannot feel... )
artyartie: (cicero-icicero)
Two more Cicero (pre-series) and Brutus drabbles for [ profile] rome100, with the prompt of 'Desire.'

Cicero wonders at what moment he first loved his wife. Not their wedding night - he still flushes at the remembrance of fumbling hands and the impatience in her eyes. It was a gradual thing, his love, like struggling with a new language for years only to hear it, suddenly, from his lips.

He should die in her arms, not in bitter exile. The sun flickers through the window and he closes his eyes, denies this day has come. Yet his longing that all will be right is stronger, however faintly, than the desperate desire to remain forever with her.


The vaulted Stoic freedom felt nothing so much like a cage, only with bars Brutus couldn’t see. But he could feel them, twisting about, threatening to crush him at any moment.

Living life without desire had once been so easy. He was never disappointed, for there was nothing in which to be disappointed. And now –

His mother’s plots, Cassius’ pleading – their desires were those invisible bars, closing around him. The graffiti, that damn note, the eager gleam in Cicero’s eyes, the guarded caution in Caesar’s-

What good was it to live without wants if he could not live without resistance?
artyartie: (rome-powerless)
Written for [ profile] rome100, prompt "Past."

The burnished gold of his ancestors’ death masks, glistening in the torchlight, frighten the young boy. Generations of both Junii and Servilli, watching him with solemn expectation. He has learned to return their stares with a calm gaze and unquivering lip – his mother’s sharp look of disapproval when he first whimpered under the weight of his own history hit him like a blow across the cheek.

“One day, your image will join them,” his mother says, kneeling behind him, her hands on his small shoulders. Brutus imagines his own face, older and silent and stern, staring back at him.


The sun beat down on his back, but the young boy felt no discomfort. He was gawky, all arms and legs, his head bobbling precariously on a thin neck. His blue eyes, however, were as bright as the summer sky, a scroll clutched tight in his small hands.

While some of the Greek was unfamiliar, certain words almost burned into the page, as if from Aristotle’s own hand. Ethos, pathos, logos. The tools of rhetoric and the orator. The power of words, the very words of power. Other boys played at soldier; Marcus Cicero desired a far more important future.
artyartie: (Default)
Written for [ profile] rome100. Set during 'Philippi.' If you can't tell, I'm on a Brutus and Cicero kick lately.


Brutus wonders how Cassius can sleep so soundly. His dreams are haunted by lurid visions and aching doubts, and when he awakens to the bright Grecian sun his first thought is I shouldn’t be here.

He shares this with no one; it wouldn’t do to be seen as indecisive. The road back home doesn’t allow for regret, but Brutus still allows himself to feel it. Still rails against his mother’s machinations, Cicero’s flattery, Cassius’ ever-present encouragement.

Yet he wonders if he would have found this path of his own accord, where he would have no one but himself to blame.


The night air assails Cicero, unexpectedly cold for so late in summer. The wind rattles the boughs of the peach trees, flings the rosemary against the statuary.

He should find comfort here, but it is hollow. Nights rarely bring sleep, and when he sleeps, his dreams leave him shaking. Even this nightly vigil brings no peace, and instead of the music of the spheres, he only hears echoes of his own failures.

The stars give a weak, silvery light, and yet they burn with accusation. The stars fill him with regret, with shame, and they are countless in the heavens.
artyartie: (Default)
Written for the [ profile] 5_fabulae community - Theme IV, Number 1 (Discedere). This story took far longer to write than I thought, but Brutus and Cicero have such a complicated dynamic. Historically, Brutus was never afraid to speak the truth to Cicero, even if it was less than pleasant.

Title: "Across the Wine Dark Sea"
Characters: Cicero, Brutus
Rating: PG
Words: 1030
Spoilers: Set between 1.05 and 1.06
Summary: After fleeing Italy, Cicero and Brutus confront an uncertain future - and unpleasant truths.

The ship sailed into the night, into uncertainty, her passengers nearly devoid of hope. )


artyartie: (Default)

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