Denarius: Antonius and Octavius

Chapter Seven: Lessons

Octavius didn't think it was possible, but Antonius' villa in the city is somehow fancier than the one he has in the countryside. More marble statues are in his outdoor garden, the tiles on the floor are brighter, and more art is painted on the walls depicting the various Roman Gods.

Gaius' footsteps only stagger when he sees a statue of Mars greeting him upon entering through the front door. "I'm assuming Mars is the God you pray to most?" Octavius asks simply as a conversation starter. Antonius pauses to gaze up at the statue. "I suppose so," he says with a shrug.
"But Dionysus is another favorite of mine," the older man states with a smile.

Octavius glances away, ears burning. Of course Antonius loves the God of sex and wine. Gaius is a bit more relieved he never dreamt of Antonius as Dionysus, who would have only acted more sly in his dreams. "But Dionysus is a Greek God, not Roman," the youth states, tugging at a loose strand on his toga.

"Part of me has always preferred the Greek arts and Gods at times," Antonius muses, a teasing note in his voice. "But enough talk about the Gods. It's time I give you a few lessons about being a leader. Come along."
Antonius turns and walks down the hall to the dining room. Gaius reluctantly follows.

The living room is bright from the sunshine coming in through the skylight. Antonius already has sweet wine and sliced figs laid out to eat. Gaius sits down on one of the couches while Antonius pours the wine into cups. "Do you want to learn how to be a leader, hm?" he asks, smiling genuinely.

Gaius silently nods, taking the cup when it is handed to him. Antonius flops down on the couch across from him, legs curved beside him as he lays on his side. "Well, you've come to the right man for advice."

"What about Cicero?" he asks, glancing down at his cup that he hasn't drunk out of yet. Antonius snorts, frowning slightly. "Cicero is a worm, not a fighter," the older man reminds the youth as he sips his wine.
'Deer or a wolf, which would you choose?' Gaius thinks to himself before sitting up straighter.

"You speak so highly of yourself, Antonius. You were Caesar's Master of Horse, after all," Octavius states. A little appraisal never hurt anyone. "It is clear you know more than me on how maintaining an army works. If we are to be allies until every conspirator is dead, we might as well be on good terms."

Antonius looks greatly amused by this, perhaps even prideful at Octavius' vague attempt at a compliment.
"What a smart lad you are," he murmurs, grinning. "And what are these 'good terms' you speak of?"
Might as well be somewhat honest.
"I'll need your support, as stated before," Gaius begins, bringing his cup to his lips and sipping.

The wine is very sweet, like one used for cooking, but Gaius dares not complain. Not while he is in Antonius' villa. He is here to be on even terms with the general. "If we stick together, there is much we can get done. Hunting down each conspirator will prove to be a challenge, but it seems we will get it done."

"It seems like your uncle truly chose a good heir," Antonius admits after a few moments of silence. "And yet," he smiles, teasing now. Gaius can already feel his composure beginning to crack in blind panic.
"Every time you look at me, you look shy. Are you that frightened of me? I see you flinch and always glance down. You act like a timid female servant waiting to be ordered around. Why is that?"

Trying to calm his racing heart, Gaius looks up at the man. 'Honest, but not too honest,' Octavius reminds himself, biting the inside of his lip. "I think it's because the Gods sent me here to you for a reason," he said cryptically, thinking back to the many dreams of Antonius as Mars. "I do not know how superstitious you are, Marcus, but you...plague my dreams. Every night, it seems."

Somewhat wary and concerned now, Antonius sits up, feet back on the floor. "Oh? And what do I do in these dreams? Haunt you? Mock you?"
"No, you..." Gaius trails off, shaking his head, cursing himself for bringing the dreams up in the first place. Throat tightening, Octavius feels the cup slipping through clammy fingers.

He feels the wine he drank coming back up as panic sets in once more. Antonius jumps up when Octavius suddenly doubles over and vomits on the ground, the cup Gaius was holding rattling on the smooth floor.
Cursing, he rushes to the kitchen to grab a rag and a bucket, leaving a panicking Octavius alone.

Octavius cries out of sadness, anger, embarrassment, and desperation. He doesn't hear Antonius coming back nor feel him wipe the bitterly sweet saliva from his lips. The older man wordlessly cleans up the mess and picks up the dropped cup. Octavius continues to cry, his hands numb in panic at everything that's happened so far.

Antonius sits next to him, rubbing his back with surprising gentleness. Somewhat snapped out of his panic, he looks up through watery eyes to see Antonius looking down at him, his expression softening. "If you need to keep vomiting, I brought a bucket," Antonius whispers, nudging said bucket with a sandaled foot.

Gaius lets out a shaky sigh, eyes closing tightly. "F-forgive me...Vomiting in your villa..." he coughs, spitting a mixture of saliva and wine into the bucket. Antonius shushes him, still rubbing his back.
"I can't do this alone," Gaius rasps, head lowered. "You and I both know I can't."
"Save your strength," Marcus murmurs, letting the youth lean against him. "I'll have you stay the night here, just in case."
Gaius whimpers in exhaustion and warily nods, not realizing how rare Marcus' concern is.