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He’d offered to adopt her sons. Mars, Saturn, Jupiter.
Agrippa stalks out of the rented Aventine house, whistling to the two sentries to follow him. Longus and Falco, good lads. Dumb enough to not mind being recruited for extra work standing around a door, smart enough not to ask questions. Definitely smart enough not to ask why their commander is mumbling furiously under his breath instead of looking happily lazy as befits a man who’s just fucked all night and half the morning.
He’d offered to adopt her sons. A Vipsanius had offered to adopt the sons of the Claudii Nero. Vesta’s tits, it’s like he thought he was as good as she was or something. Like he was doing her a favor. Tiberius Vipsanius Agrippa Claudianus - no, it can’t even be conceived.
Livia had said nothing about it. Livia had been so kind. Livia is always so kind, like one of the faces of the Bona Dea. She always knows what to do. Not like him, fifteen years in Rome and six years before that at Caesar’s side, and still stumbling into massive insults like a country bumpkin. Like some hick. Trust an Etrurian nobody to try to comfort a great lady and show himself a fool.
In his arms she’d felt as small as a dove.
He rubs his unshaven chin, grinning sheepishly as he finally lets himself remember. He can smell her discreet perfume, honey and cassia, clinging to his clothes. He wonders what Marcella will say when she smells her aunt’s perfume on him.
His grin fades as he gets an idea what she will say. Marcella’s always been a shrew. But then, not even Marcella could accuse Livia of unchastity. Livia has a mind sharp as any man’s, but in all the years he’s known her she’s never once indicated by even a glance any awareness of an impure thought. When she’d appeared in his chamber she’d looked as simple and natural as his own heartbeat. So chaste, so clean to look at he hadn’t felt any shame at all before her.
How in Alexandria’s left armpit had she known where to find him?
He’ll think about that later. For now, the point is - Agrippa tells himself as he threads carefully along a rickety bridge, remembering a body small as a dove, warm hair smelling of honey - the point is Livia is a very, very great lady. Caesar is making the mistake of his life throwing her away. Marry again - as though ten sons would be enough to compensate Rome for the loss of Livia Drusilla.
Swearing himself into a black rage, Agrippa stumbles over a loose cobblestone and kicks it away. If Caesar can send Livia away, he can forget every bond and debt he’s ever owed. He can forget Agrippa himself. For that jumped-up little toad Marcellus. When I carried you in my own arms while you were sick on the journey from Apollonia -
He stumbles again: over nothing this time. For a moment, he had come perilously close to weeping.
Gaius. Gaius and Livia. Livia and Gaius. Gaius and Livia and Gaius and - he can’t imagine the two of them apart. It would be like Rome without the Tiber, like - like Gaius without me.
And that’s what Caesar wants, is it? Agrippa’s head goes up; his neck thrusts forward and he snorts like a bull. Well, fuck the man. He, Agrippa, had fucked Mark Antony at Actium. He’d fucked Brutus at Phillipi. And now they think he’s out of practice, do they? Can just barely swing a sword anymore? Caesar had stood there and watched the boy insult him, had all but whistled Agrippa down like a dog.
And he had. He’d stood down first. Does Caesar have any idea how much love that took? Does Gaius?
Love like a fist, like a sword whirling down, like the sun blazing on the crimson waters of Actium closes his throat. If Marcellus tried for a thousand years, he couldn’t bleed for Gaius the way poor Livia has with her stillbirths. The way Agrippa has for him. He carries scars on his body older than that boy. The scar on his cheek, oldest of them all, so every time he looks at himself he sees the proof of the past twenty years of loyalty. And he’s never asked for anything more than the chance to serve again - the chance to bleed for him again.
“I’m asking now, Gaius,” he whispers as he rounds the corner and sees the Palatine house shining in the light. I demand - I ask - I demand - I will not go on my fucking knees and beg you for this I will, I will, I always will, I ask -
Love me again. Love us both again, me and Livia. Love me again.