Of the Mind and Mirror

Chapter One.

Her hands trembled slightly as her eyes quickly scanned the piece of parchment she had been given to read. In front of her stood Tiro the man which had served her father so diligently during his years when he had needed him the most. She looked up at him and nodded to him, her signal for him to leave. Pathia waited until she heard the door thump closed before she eagerly ripped the letter which her father had written to her before he died, open. She could not believe that he had had as much foresight to know that final words from him would be what she needed at this moment.

She was currently staying at the house of Caesar. They had come to her, days after the murder of her father and explained to her what would transpire. She would be married to the Marcus Agrippa, a man she had remembered her father describing as one without the bloodlines that would do a man of his skill justice. Octavian had explained to her that since Cicero still held many supporters in Rome, the marriage of his great General to the daughter of the lawyer would be one that could not be passed up, and she was pretty much given the ultimatum of either accepting the offer or being responsible for the deaths and sufferings of those whom she loved.

Pathia would have liked to think of herself as a strong willed person. As one that could have spat in their faces and dared them to try. She wished she were a woman that made men quake with lust and tremble with fear. Yet, she was not that woman. She had been trained of course in the art of philosophy, numbers, sciences, and a menagerie of other things her father had left her. Yet, she had always remained a dutiful daughter, and so it made sense that she would be a dutiful wife. Even if it meant marrying the murderer of her father. She had been taught ever since she was young that in Rome, everything was business, and she hoped that these thoughts had been true to Cicero up until the moment he died.

She opened up the piece of parchment and read hungrily:

My dearest daughter,

There are no words on this Earth to describe to you how sorry I am that your face is not one I can see before I depart your world. You have always been an inspiration to me, and your love and loyalty are things which I cherish above any other of the heavenly treasures which we mortals have been bestowed with. I wish that I could tell you that everything will be well, and that you have nothing to worry about. I wish that I could promise to you that all of the affairs which would grant you a life without worries have been arranged, but those would be lies. And lying to you has been something I have never been able to do.
---
I suspect that when this letter reaches you, you will be in the house of Caesar. The hope of this foolish old man is that this letter does find you here because it means that I can rest. You will be safe there. Yes, you will be used as nothing more than a tool for political aspirations, but this will keep you safe. I believe in my heart that Marcus Agrippa is a good man, and he has proved to be a great general. Please serve him as you would serve me and hold no rancor in your heart. It will do you no good.

If you live through hate, then it will only sour your marriage more than it needs to be. I am already dead my sweet flower, and while I may have caused this through some of my own hasty decisions, I want you to know that the moments I spent with you were the best of my life.

Let your desires be ruled by reason. I love you.

Marcus Tulius Cicero.
---

She bit her lip so hard that she thought she would draw blood. Yet, her weakness in bite only reflected on her weakness in spirit. She felt ashamed that he had thought she would live in rancor, that she would want revenge. She wished that she shared the passion and strength that her father had, yet she was happy to oblige whenever she was forced to. She told herself that someday she would learn to be strong.

She heard a faint knock at the door and her head snapped up to reveal a servant. “Domino wants to see you.” Pathia nodded as she readied herself to be seen. She walked down the ornate hallways and into the main living room to reveal Octavian, Maecenas, Agrippa, and Tiro.

“This man brought you a letter from your father?”

Pathia avoided the gaze of all the men and nodded slightly, scared that they might take what had become her most treasured possession. “May I read it?” Her lips quivered as if to protest, yet she handed the letter to Tiro, who in turn relinquished it to Octavian. His eyebrows raised as he read on, Maecenas behind him, as Agrippa seemed to stare right through her. Once Octavian had finished reading he looked back up to her.

“Well, that was touching. You plan on obliging your fathers last request?” Pathia nodded, as if she had a choice.

“Good, you may go back to rest. I would not want to deprive you of sleep before your big day.” Pathia almost winced at the mention of the wedding which she would be the center of tomorrow. The servants opened the door for her to leave but she hesitated.

“Yes?”

She prayed that her voice would not tremble, yet it was not good. “The letter, may I have it back. Please? It’s one of the most personal things I have left of him. My father.” She swallowed as she said his title as she stared at the piece of parchment in his hands. Her father had left her countless writings and treasures, but his last words were something she would never be able to replace. Octavian, sensing her stare extended his hand and gave it to her. She smiled at him, and noticed Agrippa staring at her with interest, but in a second it was gone. She retreated to her room, and awaited her “special” day.

------
Her wild red curls fell past her shoulders as she sat in the silken bed and stared at the heavy doors. It felt so strange to be naked in the bed of a man. She had only ever spoken two words to him, and now she was naked in his bed. Her nipples kept rubbing against the silk sheet as if in a reminder of what awaited her. What was taking him so long? Her cheeks reddened in embarrassment. Was she not an appetizing enough thought to make her own husband rush to bed? It was her wedding night after all, and here she lay in his bed.
She though back to the looks he had been sharing with Octavia during their wedding day. It had not taken a lot to figure out what had transpired. What Agrippa had had to agree to convince Octavian that he would no longer see his sister. And here she was, the bargaining chip. Her cheeks blushed again at the thought that perhaps her husband was with Octavia. Perhaps those lips which had briefly touched hers earlier today were smothering Octavia’s body, perhaps—

Pathia looked up at the door as it began to open. Her stomach fluttered as he entered, wearing a long elegant robe. He looked directly into her eyes with his mouth pressed into a thing line. His long hard stare was something that made her stomach flip once more and she looked away. She heard his heavy robe drop to the floor, and then felt the light leave the room. She scooted down in the bed so that the whole of her back was covered in the silk of the bed.

“Hello.” His voice in the quiet darkness startled her for a bit.

“Hi.” So much for elegant introductions.

“Shall we?” He said it with an ease, as if it were just another task he has been made to do, something unimportant to him. Pathia whimpered in agreement.

Agrippa looked towards her in the bed. Why did she have to whimper in that way? She sounded so scared and timid when he knew it to be exactly the opposite. He knew that no daughter of Cicero went into things unprepared. He was sure that she had had her fair share of lovers, throughout her life, so why did she lay there trying to pretend for him?

Surely she didn’t think someone like him would fall for such an act? He new better, and he had tried to make it clear to her that he was only here in the name of duty. He moved swiftly to arrange himself on top of her as he looked down into her brown eyes, which quickly averted.

She felt his hard stomach touch her soft one and her breath caught in her throat. His hands parted her legs with fluidity, as he took hold of himself and placed the tip of his shaft at her entrance. She let her legs open wider as she braced herself for what was to come. This was going to be a new feeling for her, something she had yet to conquer in her life, something she had been taught since she was a little girl would be something magical, something special between a husband an wife. And here she was, feeling like a political whore.

He entered her slightly and she gasped as she straightened her neck out more against the pillow, yet he seemed in unfazed. He thrust fully into her shattering the barrier which nature had set for her. The one that she had guarded for so many years. She yelped in pain as she turned her head to the side. She bit her bottom lip as she felt him stare down at her. She opened her eyes when she didn’t move and saw his stunned face.

“Did I do something wrong?” She asked a bit ashamed of herself, her obvious inexperience something that embarrassed her fully.
He shook his head quickly, and he whispered to her. “No, no, it’s not that. It’s just that…” Pathia looked up at him her big brown eyes waiting for his answer. She looked so innocent under him that he didn’t have the heart to tell her. He eased himself out of her slightly as he lowered his lips to her neck and kissed her there. He eased himself back into her warmth as his hand reached to her thigh and pressed it against his own body. He felt her body relax against him as he thrust into her gently once more, in repetition, as he kissed her on the lips.

He felt her sigh against his neck and he relaxed for the first time since he had hastily started this. He allowed himself to speed up slightly as he buried himself inside her again and again, his arm wrapped around her upper body as he shoved his face into her neck, her whimpering in pleasure egging him on. He felt her body tremble and shake against his as the first spasms of pleasure began to wash over her. He was glad this was ending soon, ashamed at how he had treated her. He felt the warmth around his shaft begin to tighten, and when it fully contracted around him he spilled his seed into and grunted into her ear as he ceased his motions.

She moaned slightly her first orgasm passing over her. Every single cell in her body felt alive, as her husband kept himself inside her slightly for a few moments. She groaned lightly when he withdrew and she felt his weight shift beside her. He remained silent as he turned his face away from her and she stared out of the window to the moon. She really didn’t know what she had expected other than silence. He had finished his business, and there was no reason for him to look at it as anything else.