Let's play pretend

[Liv]

 

The fateful day had come. The day when Livia had run out of excuses to politely refuse a visit from her father and was forced to accede to his request. Her hand had shaken as she wrote the reply the previous week; her whole body trembled now as though she had a fever despite the summer heat, making it nigh impossible to put on her pearl earrings. Standing a few feet away, Ursa merely stared at her feet, having already been subject to two verbal lashings: the first for not rushing to help straight away and the second for being so infuriatingly inept at it that Livia was better off doing it herself. Aglaea's soothing manners were sorely missed, but Livia could not let her father or any of his retinue catch glimpse of her body slave, and so young Ursa was forced to take on the mantle - and, unfortunately for her, was not performing to her mistress's standards.

As the damned second earring finally went in, a bronze-skinned youth came into the room and murmured that her father had arrived and was being shown in. An quick expletive escaped Livia and she hastened to the atrium, smoothing the sides of her loose-fitting, rather drab brown stola and adjusting her honey-coloured palla so that it too was loosely draped over her figure. Behind her, Ursa followed with anxious steps, already preparing herself to be blamed for a treacherous brooch sliding off or a similar occurrence.

The atrium came into view and with it the silhouette of Marcus Horatius Justinus. "Pater!" Some of the elation in Livia's voice was genuine, and she used it to cover the uneasiness that lay beneath. She held her hands out to him, silently hoping he would be content to take them in his rather than draw her into a hug. "I trust you had a safe journey?" A sharp glance at a red-haired slave spurred the poor soul to action, and within seconds he was generously filling a goblet with wine and handing it to their esteemed guest. If there was one thing Secundus was right about was that their slaves were sorely lacking in discipline!

"You must tell me all the news from Rome! It always takes so long to get here," Livia complained as she motioned for them to move to the sofas, fully assuming the role of the spoil younger daughter that she was so adept at playing.

@locutus-sum

[locutus-sum]

Having a brimming goblet of wine in his hand wasn’t going to stop Marcus embracing his daughter. For once in his life, he said exactly what was in his head - something he and his eldest daughter didn’t often do - “Livia, my dear, how glad I am to see you again!” There was a chuckle in his voice as he released her from his grip and held her at arm’s length to look at her. The girl was slightly messily coiffed, her outfit hastily arranged (ordinarily he would have expected better presentation from a daughter of his, but Livia was simply… well, it wouldn’t do to go nagging her about this kind of thing. She had a spark about her, dear Livia, and the last thing Marcus wanted to do was extinguish it. A parent can be overly harsh, anyway). And she was smiling, thank the gods, she was smiling that smile that filled his heart with a kind of warmth and paternal pride.

Genuine amusement crossed his face as Livia ushered him impatiently over to a couch and sat down next to him, leaning across to grip his hands in hers and grinning girlishly. He was reminded of how, as a girl, she used to grip one of his fingers tightly in her little fist and rush madly around the house, pulling him behind her, to show him something she’d written, or an interesting beetle in the garden, or to hear her mama tell him something clever she’d said, or the like. Livia was a young woman now, but to see her with that same old expression on her face filled him with a kind of relief that almost moved him to tears. Swallowing, he said warmly, “News from Rome? Oh, life's slow, thank the gods. Run-of-the-mill business in the Senate, I'm afraid. It's simply a question of establishing one's relationship with the new regime." He paused, then changed the subject. "And how’s my little girl doing these days? Though I suppose you’re not a little girl any more, are you, my dear? Newly wed for the second time! I hope Tibur’s agreeing with you. It’s absolutely lovely around, isn’t it?”

@Liv

Edited July 6, 2021 by locutus-sum

[Liv]

Disaster averted - or so it seemed for the time being. The embrace did not last too long, and Livia let out a breath she had not realised she had been holding. The red-haired slave, having learnt his lesson, was quick to offer her a full goblet as soon as both patricians were seated. She let go of her father's hands and examined him surreptitiously as she sipped at her wine. He seemed well - somewhat entertained, even - and not too worn out by the trip. A good starting point, and it was up to her to keep him in a good mood throughout his visit.

It was also up to her to keep herself in a passable mood. Her father's brief summary of news from the capital did not help matters, but Livia forced herself to remain cheerful. "With the weather getting hotter, everybody will soon leave for their villas around Neapolis, and then you can thank Apollo for making life even slower!" A childish joke, and she was quick to disguise her laughter behind her goblet in case Marcus found it too childish. 

"Oh yes, very peaceful!" Livia smiled a little too wide. Much too peaceful indeed; deathly boring would have been a better description. "It's not as unbearable as Rome on hot summer days, and if it ever becomes too much there is a stream at the edge of the property. It's very pleasant for swimming or even just resting." It had once come in handy for other things too, but those were in the past, fading beyond the veil of nostalgia. "It's not as stinky as Rome either," she added with a mischievous giggle before taking another sip of her drink. "But it's just as you say, pater. I am no longer a little girl, nor a newlywed. Time passes by in the blink of an eye," she commented, raising her eyes to see the bronze-skinned boy come bearing a large platter full of juicy grapes and various cheeses. He set it down in front of them and quietly retreated, presumably to fetch more food.

She plucked three grapes the size of eyeballs and popped them into her mouth in quick succession, gesturing at Marcus to help himself as she swallowed. "It is three years this year since my husband and I married." Three years of Hades above ground, only made bearable by the companion that had so selfishly been taken from her. Livia stifled a sigh and raised her cup for a toast instead. "And it is the first year of our new emperor's reign. May he always be in good health." An imperious look at the ginger slave saw him refilling both drinks in a heartbeat and slinking back into his place against the wall.

"Are you finding it difficult to 'establish your relationship' with him? Does his youth make him unreasonable?" Livia smiled again with a hint of girlish malice. In all actuality she had no interest in new or old imperial doings, but establishing her father as the wise and more experienced party versus a young man's boldness and enthusiasm miht please him.

@locutus-sum

[locutus-sum]

"Three years?" Marcus' surprise was genuine. Silly old man. The years really had run away from him. Three years since he gave her away to Secundus? “Well, yes. Tempus fugit, eh?” 

Something about Livia’s overly-wide smile and childish joke was a comfort he didn’t know he needed. The poor girl had been devastated after her first husband died, walking around with her shoulders hunched and her eyes downcast like a captive in a triumphal procession, mocked and derided by the cruel Fates hanging over her beloved with an empty distaff. At first, Marcus had been slightly worried that his cunning little scheme to marry her off again to distract her hadn’t worked. But Time, it seems, made good on its promise and had brought his Livilliola back to him. Her eyes didn’t have that same sparkle, though, but as she herself reminded him, she wasn’t a little girl anymore. No, it had worked. She was now a contented Roman matron with a respectable husband. Perhaps, with the gods’ blessing, she would soon also be a mother, and all his fears of her infertility would settle.

He smiled slightly embarrassedly at his daughter and popped a grape into his mouth. Yes, having children might teach her to take a leaf out of Horatia’s book. Just then, he felt his stomach turn. Perhaps he’d just eaten a sour grape, or perhaps… no. He’d done the right thing. Nothing he could do could change Livia’s fundamental nature. Surely he couldn’t extinguish her spark with one clumsy footfall? Marcus squashed down his sudden rising feeling of panic. He turned his attention back to what Livia was saying.

Marcus smiled a little to himself as she proposed a toast to the new Caesar. He doubted whether she actually cared a whit who held imperium. Politics didn’t figure in the life of a young woman like his Livia - that was a game for men, and of course, Horatia, who was the type of woman who liked to concern herself with everything, poor girl. But his youngest wasn’t that sort - worrying about what went on inside the palace walls didn’t suit her carefree demeanour; she was still filled with girlish charm, dear thing. It was for this very reason that Marcus, though he knew in his heart of hearts her asking about the new Caesar was a deliberate attempt to appeal to his sense of authority and self-worth, was willing to let her flatter him.

"Aha, well, my dear, since you ask, yes. A very agreeable young man, I do say. He seems to be taking my advances of friendship and counsel very well. He evidently appreciates my wisdom and experience, as he should. With Horatia's Aulus as consul and Titus as Caesar, I think Rome could be making her first steps into a new golden age."

At least, that's how things seemed to be going. Marcus wasn't the sort to listen to irrational nagging feelings, let alone confess them to anyone else. "Yes, I really do," he added, nodding with conviction as he picked up a nice piece of cheese he'd been eyeing up.

"But my dear, don't let me bore you with political tripe. News from Rome, you wanted, yes?" Oh, there were plenty of saucy details Marcus could relate, the type of tidbits Livia really relished in her childish love for scandal. He could feel her lean forward a fraction in anticipation. But he wasn't a gossip. "Well, Horatia is well. Not much of a smiler, but then she never was as chirpy as you, now, was she?" Marcus reached up to pinch her cheek. "Her little ones are doing well. Young Titus is quite ready to don his toga virilis soon. And Calpurnia…" Marcus looked at his knees for a second, trying to express in a befittingly senatorial manner what he had gleaned from Horatia's carefully chosen words, "Calpurnia is becoming a woman. Oh, it is a lovely feeling to see one's grandchildren grow up, I tell you. And I hope I shall have a lot more to come, eh?"

Marcus gave a small cough, wishing he hadn't been so direct. But darling Livia must know what he wanted from her. Still, he didn't like to impress his sense of duty too strongly upon her. Horatia had already done her part in providing him heirs, as had Publius. He peered into her face, watching anxiously for a reaction.

@Liv

Edited July 11, 2021 by locutus-sum

[Liv]

'Tempus fugit'? Only when one was having fun. Each year with Secundus felt like a decade, and Livia wasn't keen on immortality. What had been on her father's mind when he had agreed to the disastrous match? The question had floated countless times through her mind, yet remained unanswered. She did not have the courage to openly doubt Marcus Horatius Justinus' judgement and demand to know why; she did not have the right either. As her father, he knew best even if he didn't - such was the way of the world. Maybe one day he would put into practice the old adagio of in vino veritas and share his reasons... Maybe. The grape in her mouth turned bitter, but was forced down with a smile.

Pater seemed to find her suggested topic an agreeable one. "It takes wisdom to appreciate the wisdom of others. It's reassuring to know our ruler is surrounded by capable men and inclined to heed their advice." The last few words came out harsher than originally intended, evidence of the persistent irritation that followed mentions of her sister and her husband's perfect lives. "I hope Aulus lives up to expectations during his term. It would be terribly embarrassing for us if he failed to serve the emperor and the people of Rome to the standard they deserve." Oh, her brother-in-law would do a good job and give Horatia cause to gloat all she wanted; Livia could only imagine how much more stuck-up those two would be come same time next year.

News, yes - any news would suffice, so long as it kept the focus away from her. "No, I suppose she was not," Livia smirked as she shuffled in her seat, the wry smile turning into a broader and more authentic one at the affectionate pinch. For a moment she regretted her sister was not there to witness the gesture that would likely have made her even less chirpy. "Ah, of course. Titus is what, fifteen? Sixteen this year? What an eventful year this is turning out to be for them!" She raised her cup to her lips, downing half of its contents before imitating Marcus and making for the cheese. "I wonder if they're already considering potential matches for Calpurnia." In a seldom display of ill-disguised malice, Livia added with feigned enthusiasm, "Pater, you must share your impressions of those men with them! You raised two daughters, they should find your experience valuable." Wasn't that the hallmark of a young woman from a respectable family, married off to some intolerable old fart that was closer in age to her father or grandfather than to herself?

The question - not unexpected but no less unpleasant for it - had Livia staring morosely into her cup. The temptation to come clean and tell her father all about Secundus' horrid plan was there, poking at her with deceptive fingers. If she gave in, what would Marcus do? Console her for being forced to participate in the scheme? Chastise her for failing to give her husband a legitimate heir? Deceit won out, as it inevitably would, but there was no need to fake the hurt in her voice when she spoke. "I would love nothing more than prove you right, Pater. We have been trying, rest assured, but..." Livia raised her gaze from the cup to Marcus' expectant face. "... What if it's not the gods' will? I have been pregnant twice, but my husband has no known children. What if it's not in the gods' designs that he should be the one to further the family line?"

Before the whole disaster that had upended her life months earlier, Livia had considered the possibility a few times in the safety of her mind. Could divorces been granted on account of infertility on the husband's part? She knew the reverse was not uncommon, and had even hoped for some time that Secundus would exhaust his barely-existent patience and return her to her father's house. But perhaps the seed of an idea could be planted on Marcus' mind and, some time after the current state of affairs had come to a conclusion, even bear fruit? She lowered her head, pretending to be ashamed of voicing such thoughts. "Many men remain vigorous even in their later years, I'm aware of that, and father children with their young wives. I know I'm hardly young anymore, but..." The segue hung in the silence. What if it's his fault?

@locutus-sum

[locutus-sum]

She may not have a mind like Horatia’s, but she knows exactly what she should, thought Marcus proudly. She knows to trust in me and those I in turn choose to trust to keep a constant vigil over Rome. Dear girl. I doubt she ever questions her faith in me.

Listen to her now, asking about his view on matches for Calpurnia! Naturally, she was right - his experience was invaluable, thought Marcus, smoothing his toga and chewing mightily on a grape. Livia didn’t seek to remind him, unlike her older sibling, that Aulus’ parents technically held potestas over the children. It was true, yes, but a part of him resented the fact Horatia didn’t have the sense not to bring it up, didn’t defer to him unquestioningly as Livia did. There was no doubt, after all, that in reality the final decision would be his, and nobody would think to agree to a match without first seeking his approval. A keen-minded woman was a good thing insofar as dinner-table discussion and company were concerned, but it was imperative that this didn’t extend to believing herself to be qualified to comment on the judgement of those better informed. Of course, he didn’t play favourites - not Marcus Horatius Justinus - but Livia’s attitude did please him inordinately.

But as soon as the question of her fertility was raised, Marcus saw in Livia’s eyes something that made him wince like someone had run a cheese-grater up his back. Oh no, he hadn’t meant to upset her! His puffed-up chest visibly deflated. And when her eyes raised to his, large and doleful, her meaning hit him in the face.

“Dear gods…” he whispered, gaining a sudden intensity. “You can’t mean…”

It had never occurred to him that the fault might not be Livia’s, but Secundus’. If that were true, and he’d picked her out a husband who… well, that was better than his daughter being a dud anyway. Perhaps that was what Horatia had meant when she talked of her sister’s sadness, why Livia hadn’t written so frequently to him. The poor girl was watching her child-bearing years fade away, stuck with a husband who couldn’t provide what he needed to.

Marcus suddenly reached out and clutched Livia to his chest, his hand running over her tightly-bound curls as they used to when he held her when she was just a toddler, her chin resting on his shoulder.

“All this talk of your sister and her family, and all the while you were suffering with your suspicions, Livilliola! He is a fine man, Secundus, and I have no doubt you love him very much. But if…” he pushed her away, looking earnestly into her face. “Oh, I can’t very well tell the poor fellow to divorce you, and the two of you have a life together now. But you must tell me, my dear, though I know it hurts, do you… do you really think he can’t…?”

@Liv