Let's Kill Caesar

34: Pompey's tips

"Cheers to that Cicero." Atticus laughed gruffly, raising his wine glass with a wicked smirk. 

"How do I do that?" Endymion laughed with disbelief. "Please, tell me how."

It was easy for Cicero and Cato to talk revenge. Their names held traction, support. A myriad of senators and equites would fight for them. Endymion was a nobody. A disgraced nobody. 

He couldn't hide the cold rage from his eyes as Endymion looked at his allies, chest rocked with rattled breaths. His arms were limp at his side as he rasped, "Please. Tell me what to do. I'll do it, no questions asked."

Cato didn't reply. He glanced at Cicero expectantly. Alma swallowed, brushing herself down. "I have something in the works."

"You do?" The shock in Pompey's voice couldn't be concealed. 

"I do but I need to get a few things in place first." Alma took Endymion's hand with a cryptic smile. "All I need is for Brutus to follow my instructions."

"What's your plan?" Endymion pouted, heartbeat pulsing in his ears. What else are you going to make me do?

"Ah! You said no questions Brutus." Iovita gave him a curt nod. "Just do whatever she says."

Endymion shut his mouth with the click of his jaw. He nodded, gut stable as a bucket of water on a boat. 

"Will we get to hear this marvellous plan?" Atticus leaned forward, brow hung low. 

Cicero wrinkled her nose, fingers pulling her hair into a fluffy ponytail. "Pompey will."

Iovita let out a snarl, bottom lip stuck out. "Hey!"

"You'll post about it on assembly and Scipio will just whine." Cicero grinned, eyes shimmering in the sunlight. Atticus grunted and looked ready to - well, whine, when Alma swiftly added, "We can argue later. I'm getting a cheeseburger. You guys want anything?"

Cato stretched his arms, veins pulsing. "I'll come with - you'll get my order wrong otherwise."

Atticus simply rose to his feet and stomped out of the room. Ciceor and Cato shared another weird glance and headed through to the car. Leaving Endymion alone with Pompey the Great. 

"it's not easy. Especially with these morons." Narcissus smiled warmly. Oh gods is he actually talking to me? Endymion nodded, eyes bulging. 

"Yeah...it is."

Pompey folded one leg up like a stereotypical man in a pin-striped suit painting. Those grey eyes were so soft as they grazed over his face. "The first election is always tumultuous like this. Always full of scandals and sneaky bullshit."

Endymion laughed softly, cheeks reddening. He stared at his hands. "I haven't heard of one like this. I really fucked up my chances."

Narcissus snorted. His voice was so naturally honeyed every word sounded like a delicious lie. Even as he said, "You don't remember my debut I gather. Fucking Mercury that was bad."

"Really?" Endymion looked up with a frown. "I've never heard anything."

"The magic of time," Pompey chuckled, fingers rapping against his seat. "Back then I thought I'd be run out of Rome."

"Seriously?" Endymion couldn't conceal the shock in his voice. "Rome can't get enough of you - surely it couldn't have been that bad?"

The senators smiled at one another. Endymion couldn't stop picking at his nails as the pause drew out. Eventually Narcissus sighed and answered, "If I'm honest it might have been worse. To this day I still don't understand how I've outrun it."

"What happened?" Endymion scooted forward, heart pattering loudly. Pompey pressed a long finger to his temple, lips forming a shaky ghost of a grin. What did you do? How did you survive?

Pompey cleared his throat. Pink crept into his bronze skin. Oh gods.

"As you know by now, Vero and I are good friends. It wasn't always that way."

"I thought you campaigned with one another from the start?"

Pompey chuckled and took a long sip from the crystal wineglass hanging loosely between his fingers. His eyes darkened for a second, calm facade dropping for a split second. His tone was gentle as a lover's as Pompey replied, "Sometimes I forget how behind you newbies are. Let me just preface this with the fact this is all water under the bridge. As much as Cato might object."

Endymion nodded, fully aware of Cato's passionate badgering. Narcissus drew in a short breath, shoulders rolling. "Well when I started out I never really understood how things worked, how cutthroat this all is. All I knew was camaraderie from being on the front lines."

***

I was young, ambitious, hopeful. Once you face war you think nothing can touch you. Don't be like that Endymion. Don't be fucking stupid. My father hadn't prepared me for the battle of politics. Then again he was content in helping others rise. He never had that thrill of more, of challenge. I did.

I debuted much like you Endymion. I didn't have many - well any -solid allies to lean on. Cicero had only entered the arena two years prior so she was still unsteady. For some reason she took to me. We were fast friends but it didn't mean much back then. We were just lambs for the slaughter. Well I was. Alma had a talent even the most senior senators adhered to. She could survive anything. 

Alma had an education in politics, rhetoric, the game. I had nothing but bloody war stories. If Caesar hadn't done it, someone else would've.

***

Endymion's skin was crawling with phantom bugs. Done what? Narcissus' eyes stared off into the past, dark clouds swarming his cheeks. He wet his lips, voice like a shade's. "He saw a defenceless fool and tried to ruin me."

Pompey wiped his mouth, bounding to his feet. His fingers were trembling as he croaked, "Sorry, I just need a minute."

Water under the bridge? Endymion nodded again, insides twisting into a thousand knots. 

He watched utterly speechless as Narcissus staggered from the room, eyes alight with ghosts. Endymion deflated a little. He didn't know what to do. Ruin? Surely not. Vero and Pompey were arguably the strongest allies amongst them all. Enough that rumours of affairs had lingered on the tongues of patricians and plebeians alike for years. Nothing that solid could be wrought from a pain like that. Endymion shook his head. How? How? The words didn't sound like a question in his head. They were followed by the steady words of Cicero. Endymion, there's a reason why I told you to stay away.

"But Bast didn't..." Endymion choked on his naivety. With a grunt he pulled himself from the small couch and went to find Pompey. Endymion didn't need to go far. His stomach lurched a little as he spied Narcissus standing in the kitchen.

The senator was drumming his fingers against the bench. Those soft eyes were utterly blank as he muttered to himself. Endymion cleared his throat gently. "Are...gods. Sorry, I-"

"I'm not good at this either." Pompey smiled weakly at his guest. "I'm usually at a loss for these types of, well, oh fuck I don't even know."

The young man snickered and pat the bench with a cringe. Endymion felt himself relax around the senator for the first time. For once his reputation, that commanding presence, felt normal. As normal as a Roman could be. Endymion scratched the rippled skin of his left ear. "You know, I had no idea your debut was so - are you alright?"

The question couldn't help but come out. In that instance Pompey wasn't Pompey anymore. He was a twenty-three year-old boy. He didn't have glory or bravado. Only the words that slipped from his lips. 

"People forget and forgive Endymion." Narcissus smiled gently. "All this happening right now will not be the be all end all. Not if you trust Cicero and Cato."