When a messenger arrived from Rome with a letter, they knew the news could not be good. It was bad but unsurprising. Plotina had succumbed to her illness and died. Hadrian's grief over the death of his adoptive mother was quiet but profound. She was more than a confident and a friend to him, she was an ally who had been instrumental in helping him ascend to power and stay there. Flattery and praise were easy to come by for the Emperor but loyalty was rare.
Sabina's handmaidens grabbed her arms as she fell to her knees and wept. She had a strained relationship with her aunt. Perhaps she was weeping for the relationship they might have had if Plotina cared more about her niece than she did staying in Hadrian's good graces.
For Antinous this day marked the end of one life and the beginning of his own. While he stayed by the Emperor's side in his bedchamber, he sent Orodes down to the guards' barracks with a message. This message brought joy instead of sorrow and it only contained a single word: tonight.
"I've decided to participate in the Eleusinian Mysteries," Hadrian said after hours of contemplative silence.
These were the most sacred and secret religious rites of ancient Greece. Socrates, Plato and Aristotle had all been initiated. Antinous didn't know much about the Mysteries. Participants took a vow of silence. But he did know that they involved visions and conjuring the afterlife.
Hadrian grieved like a philosopher, in the abstract, reminded of his own mortality and desperate to find meaning in existence.
"I hope it brings you comfort," Antinous said.
He now had a purple bruise on his cheek where Hadrian struck him. A reminder to them both of the mark on their relationship.
"Do you?"
"I always admired Plotina's poise."
"It was not your feelings about Plotina I was questioning."
His plan was to slip out at night after Hadrian had taken valerian root to fall asleep. The Emperor had difficulty sleeping as of late. The physician prescribed it when nothing else worked. If anyone asked him why he was out of bed, Antinous planned to tell them he was going for a moonlit swim, which he had done often enough since arriving in Athens. He hoped this wouldn't arouse suspicion.
He only wished Leonides could be as subtle.
In the banquet hall that evening the feast was a somber affair on account of everyone's grief. Everyone but Commodus that is, who didn't particularly care for Plotina since the Emperor sometimes valued her advice more than his.
They ate lamb whose life was sacrificed to the gods that morning and an otherwise modest Greek meal of barley, olives and goat cheese. It pained Hadrian greatly that he would not be in Rome to participate in Plotina's funeral rites. At no point did it occur to him that Antinous had suffered the same fate and worse when he concealed the news of his mother's death. The irony was entirely lost on him.
It was Roman tradition to wear a dark toga, the toga pulla, when mourning. They were all draped in fabric black as charcoal. Commodus had his slaves toil all day painting marigolds black so he could wear them in his hair. He preferred bright colors but never missed an opportunity to make a fashion statement.
Leonides was standing behind the banquet table. Antinous could feel the soldier's breath tickling the back of his neck. He prayed Leonides was not smiling. When someone cleared their throat Antinous jumped and accidentally knocked over a cup of wine, a situation that was made worse when Leonides dove down like an eagle to catch it.
"Good reflexes," Commodus quipped.
"Yes," Remus added slyly, "you must be watching him very closely."
Antinous shot him a look of death. Remus had clearly taken the place of those leashed tigers Commodus fancied so much.
When the day was done, Antinous retired with Hadrian to their bedchamber. Orodes followed with a sheet of linen draped over his arm.
Leonides was now standing guard at the door, legs apart, hands behind his back. There was a sheen of sweat on his brow. It was unclear if it was the torches lining the walls that caused him to perspire or anticipation of the night ahead.
"I'll have my bath now, Orodes."
"Lavender oil or rose?"
He chanced a look at Leonides' face. "Rose."
The soldier blushed so fiercely that Hadrian clapped him on the shoulder and asked if he was choking.
"No, Caesar. It's just... Plotina's death. The sorrow must have overcome me."
He nodded sagely. "She was the mother of Rome."
"Isn't that Sabina's title?" Antinous asked, genuinely not trying to instigate a fight.
"Sabina couldn't mother a crate of kittens let alone an Empire!" he thundered.
Orodes raised his eyebrows.
The slave took special care with his bath. He always used scented oils that were to Hadrian's liking—lavender was his favourite—but this was different. This was for a lover that Antinous himself had chosen. He soaked in the fragrant water as Orodes worked the oil into his skin with the heel of his hand until it was supple and soft. The slave patted him dry with the linen, leaving the more private parts of him slick to the touch. He seemed more nervous than Antinous and took both of his hands and kissed them. "Be careful."
Hadrian was in bed with one eye open when Antinous crawled beneath the blanket in his chiton. When he was not commanding a room in his purple toga, the Emperor looked older, weaker. His hair was getting grayer by the day and his face lined and drawn beneath his trim beard. He looked at Antinous like he was an apparition, someone who was fading from his field of vision. The boy remained by his side, but he had lost every part of him that mattered.
"You are so beautiful," he said weakly, the valerian working quick in his veins. He couldn't tell if this was a compliment or an accusation. "Promise me you'll stay this way forever?" He reached for the boy but before he could touch him, his eyelids became heavy and he drifted off to sleep. Antinous didn't know why he felt guilty but he did. He had been told that they were in love for so many years maybe he had begun to believe it.
"I promise."
He kissed the Emperor's forehead and waited an hour before leaving their bed and wandering the dark halls of the palace alone.
Brutus was outside the door now. As evening passed into night, the guards changed places. Leonides was meant to be at the eastern gate. He wondered what clever excuse he gave the other guards when he left his post. Whatever it was, he was sure it was wholly unconvincing.
The passageways were still very much a maze to him, but he memorized the exact location and even counted his steps and left a smudge of ash on the fresco to be sure.
When he reached the concealed passageway off the old slave quarters, he had to run his finger along the stone to be sure. The stucco loosend. He pushed it with his shoulder. The door was heavy as an ox and scraped noisily along the ground.
Inside, the old antechamber was windowless and empty but for a flickering candle. Leonides was stretched out upon a pallet in the corner.
Antinous pushed the stone door shut.
"Do you need help?" his voice sang softly.
"I think I have it."
When he was certain the stone door was flush with the passageway, he turned around and clapped the dust off his hands.
Leonides was no longer wearing his armour. He was in a soft blue tunic casually belted around the waist. His golden hair was tousled from lying down. With one leg tucked beneath the other he balanced a silver plate of half-eaten grapes on his knee.
"I was hungry."
"Of course you were."
"Here, have some," he said, beckoning Antinous to join him on the pallet.
He shuffled his feet by the door. It was silly of him to be nervous. He had been the Emperor's consort for over six years. He was anything but innocent. He sat on the edge of a pallet and plucked a grape from its stem.
Leonides watched contentedly as he ate. His thumb brushed against Antinous' cheek where Hadrian had struck him.
He winced.
"How did this happen?"
"The rebels. One dealt me a blow with the hilt of his sword."
"Who'd be cruel enough to strike a face like this? Enemy or not, I wouldn't have the heart."
He moved his hand to Antinous' arm, which was still wrapped in gauze though the bleeding had staunched.
"It's healing well," he answered before Leonides could ask.
"You were brave."
He shrugged. "I only kept the enemy at bay. You and Brutus did the real fighting."
"Keeping the enemy at bay is the real fighting. I wish I had more men on my squadron who were less concerned with personal glory and more concerned with protecting their fellow soldiers."
He felt warmth rise to his cheeks at such a compliment. "You're a strong leader. You'll be a great general one day."
"You'll be a great soldier." Leonides fed him another grape. "You're good at taking orders."
Antinous grinned. "Not always."
The pallet beneath them was made of straw and covered with wool. Shadow from the candle danced on the ceiling. The stucco walls were blank and crumbling, the tiled floor covered in dust and cracked pottery. The only ornament in the room was each other. Antinous was reminded why they were there and how little time they had.
"I've only ever done this with Hadrian," he admitted.
Leonides cast his blue gaze downward at Antinous' sheer chiton and touched it with his fingertips as though he were skimming foam off the top of the sea.
The Emperor had always guided their lovemaking. Antinous would lie down and wait to be mounted or his mouth would be drawn between Hadrian's legs.
Leonides was kind. He avoided going to brothels and satiating his urges because of his deep feeling for Antinous. But when all was said and done he was still a Roman. His passions were direct and uncompromising. Antinous on the other hand was Greek and coy, like a dancing muse hiding behind layers of veils.
"Can I kiss you?" he asked.
"I don't know, can you?"
He furrowed his brow, perplexed at first, then leaned in.
Antinous placed a hand over his heart. It was pounding. He knew the soldier couldn't wait much longer.
Slowly he released his hand and let their lips brush.
Leonides was larger but was careful not to crush the boy as he climbed on top and kissed him so deeply Antinous sunk into the pallet.
Even if their tryst ended right then, he thought, this would be greatest moment of his life.
But it would not end then. The soldier was roused and so was he and there was no one there to stop them. He was about to unfasten his chiton and prepare to be mounted, when Leonides began to undress first. He rose on his knees, untied the cord around his waist and lifted the tunic over his head, tossing it carelessly to the floor.
Antinous ran a hand over his broad chest. His skin was as golden as his curls, marked with the occasional scar from battle, with chain of soft hair that began near his navel and led down to his sex.
He did not know what came over him or what gave him the strength, but he sat up suddenly and pushed the soldier onto his back. It was perhaps the only time in all of their wrestling matches that he had ever managed to pin him.
"Antinous, what—"
He crushed his face against his chest and kissed it letting his tongue explore and linger on the curves of his flesh. Leonides was surprised but pleased by this rather unexpected turn of events.
Antinous had never known a body as beautiful as this, nor had he ever touched one. He was so happy he could have cried. Being worshiped came nowhere close to joy of being the worshipper.
Leonides was painfully roused but he let Antinous continue or more likely was helpless to stop him. The boy planted devotional kisses on his belly and hips, then moved his lips to the inside of his heavy thigh, and when he did reach the intended spot, he almost pitied the soldier. Antinous may have had few skills on the battlefield but one does not remain the lover of the most powerful man in Rome without becoming a master of certain skills in the bedchamber.
He dragged his tongue from the base of his length to the tip. Leonides shuddered with pleasure and ran a hand through the boy's dark curls, bucking his hips. Antinous held his thighs apart with both hands to steady them. When he let him slip past his lips and into his mouth, Leonides turned his head to muffle a cry.
"Hush, they'll hear us!" Antinous scolded before getting back to the delicious business at hand.
Leonides babbled something about it being too good and possibly dying but Antinous wasn't really listening. He took him deeper and deeper, relaxing his throat to accommodate all of him.
The act was the same as the one he performed with the Emperor, but giving pleasure was much different than having it demanded of him. He was excited himself, aching and sweating through his chiton. He tore his mouth away and stroked Leonides with one hand while trying to unclasp the broach on his shoulder with the other.
The soldier seized the opportunity and pinned him to the bed by his wrists.
"No more of your witchcraft, little one," he said, panting. "I'm going to have you now."
Forever the pupil, he said, "Of course, but let me take this off," for his chiton was clinging to his chest and thighs.
Not trusting him, Leonides fumbled with the clasp and pricked himself. "Curses!"
Antinous covered his mouth to stifle a laugh.
When he got it loose, he fought like Achilles to untangle the fabric from the boy's limbs.
Naked at last, Antinous spread, his chest rising and falling rapidly with each breath, more excited than he ever thought possible.
Leonides spat on his hand to slicken himself. He'd forgotten that Antinous was a palace pet. "I'm already oiled." He turned around and bent over and judging from the silence in the room he thought he had indeed killed Leonides this time. They didn't have fine oils in the military barracks he supposed and was unused to such luxuries.
The soldier's hands reached for his narrow hips and slid over his backside. Antinous clung to the wool blanket and braced himself, but instead of mounting, Leonides stroked him with his fingers.
He bit his lip and his elbows buckled. He was used to many things, tenderness was not one of them.
"Take me," he gasped.
"You're tight as a snare."
"Then let me ensnare you."
"You do have trouble following orders, don't you?"
He gently rubbed and worked him open, which was its own kind of pleasure and sent Antinous into a state of longing that verged on torture.
"Please!" He bent over until his face was on the pallet, begging.
Leonides was right to be tender, for he was large and Antinous had to be completely docile to take all of him. Still, he was stubborn and didn't care.
The boy sobbed into the pallet as Leonides' finger slid inside him. It was everything but not nearly enough.
He arched his back in protest and felt Leonides press a kiss between his shoulder blades and slide another finger inside. Antinous eased around them with a sigh.
"You're really a sweet little lamb," the soldier cooed.
He was docile and Leonides could wait no longer. He rested his length against him. It was heavy and for a moment the act felt impossible. It was this impossibility that made him long for it all the more.
The soldier drew a sharp breath and carefully breached him.
His sighs now turned to low moans. Leonides stroked Antinous' flank to soothe the boy. "There, that's it."
He liked the praise. It reminded him of their wrestling practices when Leonides would overpower him and whisper encouragements in his ear. He always wanted to be better for him. A better wrestler, a better man, and now a better lover.
As Leonides began to move inside him, Antinous' moans grew louder. The soldier asked him if it was too deep but how could Antinous explain that he wanted it even deeper, that he wanted to be consumed entirely by this fire inside and out? He only reached back and drew Leonides' deeper still. When their bodies were flush, the soldier reached an arm across his chest to pull him up for a kiss. His other hand travelled down his belly to stroke him, when he must have realized how dangerously close the boy was to spilling.
Leonides withdrew and wrestled him onto his back before hooking his arms beneath Antinous' thighs. His limbs were weak. His face hot at the effort of being had.
There was lust in the soldier's eyes. He always thought that he might look at him differently than Hadrian did, but desire was a potent drug that turned all men to beasts. The difference between them was not in the way Leonides looked at him. The difference was that for the first time, Antinous looked back.
They locked eyes. He entered him again. His thrusts became harder and more frantic. Antinous' lips wrapped around his name. "Leo, Leo, Leo..."
To hear his name on those full lips drove Leonides mad. Antinous' inner thighs were red from the slapping of the soldier's skin against his, but he pleaded for more. The straw inside the pallet rustled loudly beneath them and the frantic rhythm of their bodies threatened to blow out the candle and cast them into darkness.
Then Antinous let it slip: "Agapo se," which meant, "I love you" in Greek.
Leonides didn't seem to understand a word of it, for he said nothing. He spoke only with his body like he did in battle: grappling with his desire, Antinous, and the Emperor for daring to defy nature and keep them apart. Through art and poetry Hadrian tried to make sense of nature but Leonides was proof that nature could not be explained. He was the wildfire that tore through the forest, the wind that commanded the storm, the quicksand that pulled him under, and the wave that crashed on the shore. His hips rose and fell forward, spearing so deeply inside him now that Antinous spilled onto his belly, utterly obliterated.
Warmth spread throughout his body as his muscles spasmed with pleasure and relaxed into a feeling of weightless bliss.
When his breathing evened and his lust quieted he put a hand over his face shyly. He didn't know why but outside of the throes of passion, he always rediscovered his modesty. It was as though the boy he was when he made love was another person entirely.
Leonides was charmed by this. He nuzzled Antinous' curls as he came closer and closer to his own release.
Antinous was torn between coaxing him and wanting the moment to last forever. He wrapped his legs around Leonides' back, which was slick with sweat and moved his hips in tandem with his lover's thrusts.
A growl escaped his lips as he spilled inside of the boy.
Antinous gathered him up in his arms and pressed a cheek to his shoulder. The soldier collapsed on top of him with all of his weight. Pinned beneath him for some time, he wondered if he was like those large animals that slept for a week after they mated.
He was amazed by both the stamina he exhibited during the act and the sheer exhaustion he felt afterward. Making love to another young man was like competing against an athlete at the games.
Eventually, he rolled over, still panting dramatically. Antinous watched him closely, wondering what exactly young male soldiers did after making love.
He wasn't surprised when he reached for the grapes. And that shyness Antinous felt after reaching his climax? The soldier was sprawled out proudly, more pleased to be on display now that he was satiated than he was before. This fascinated Antinous too.
If he were with Hadrian, they might discuss the day, recite a poem, he might hear another story of the Emperor's days on the battlefield. Antinous began to speak when Leonides kissed him roughly.
"Play your lyre."
"I didn't bring it. It would make far too much noise."
"We were noisier, I assure you." He gave his thigh a playful squeeze.
"I can sing for you?"
Leonides eagerly put his head in Antinous' lap and made himself comfortable.
In his soft, breathy voice he sang the song he wrote for Leonides years earlier at Caelian Hill:
Hark, you whose domain is the Eternal City, loud-thundering Jupiter's brave sons...
The soldier stared up at him adoringly.
Antinous still regretted that he never had the chance hand him the small scroll of lyrics before he departed for Judea. It was in Hadrian's possession now, just like he was.
...come with songs to celebrate the warrior Leo of the golden hair, who over the peak of Caelian Hill, comes to the Tiber River...
He twirled a finger around one of said golden locks and smiled. "Is this what it's like to part of your squadron? Days fighting rebels and nights submitting to desire?"
"Yes, but you're the only one who sings for me."
"Is that a Roman way of saying I'm special?"
"You think we're such brutes?"
"I know you are."
"Fair."
Antinous continued singing and stroking his lover's hair. He thought Leonides was drifting off to sleep because he shut his eyes and his breathing had become heavy. But when his glanced down he saw that he was fully roused again. Stamina indeed. Antinous was tired, yet having Leonides' head in his naked lap had stirred something in him too. He was about to lie down and invite the soldier to take him from behind when Leonides rolled over and presented himself instead.
"I'm an eromenos," Antinous said. "I'm afraid I've only ever been taken."
"Well, I'm a soldier and we take turns."
He never dreamed a man would ever give himself to him and he didn't know how badly he wanted it until Leonides offered. He was far less experienced in this area and perhaps too eager and clumsy but the soldier indulged him. Leonides was still young enough to be considered pretty and tough enough to withstand the boy's uncareful thrusts. Antinous had newfound respect for him. The whole endeavour was as exhausting as it was exhilarating. He felt powerful but more than that he felt a great responsibility to be tender and honor his lover's vulnerability.
Antinous was so grateful for the chance he all but demanded that Leonides finish in his mouth.
This time they did doze afterward, which was dangerous because Antinous had to be back in Hadrian's bed before dawn.
When they awoke, he reached for his chiton crumpled on the ground, a terrible reminder that what lay beyond the walls of this hidden chamber was a life they did not share. They were both so distraught at having to part, their grief led to a tearful kiss and another session of frantic lovemaking.
It was Antinous who eventually tore himself away because if it were up to Leonides they would never stop and that antechamber would become their tomb.
He looped the chiton through his arms and pinned the garment at the shoulder. Leonides looked like he was the happiest and the saddest he had ever been.
"Do you think we can meet again?"
"I don't know, perhaps, if an opportunity presents itself. I can't sneak out at night again. It's too risky. An afternoon when Hadrian is visiting the library or his new temple?"
Even as he said it, the words felt small. That wasn't enough. It never would be. Not for Leonides, who was an honest man. He wouldn't be content living under a veil of secrets and lies.
"You were going to join the auxiliaries," he said under his breath. "We were going to fight side by side..."
The bruise on his cheek throbbed. "That is never going to happen." Antinous became angry, though he wasn't sure at whom. "I was a stupid child when I said that."
"You're a freeborn man now."
"He's Emperor."
Leonides wrung his hands in frustration. "He can't keep you forever."
He doesn't understand. How could he?
Antinous groped the stucco wall in search of the concealed doorway. On the other side, he could hear the lark calling him back to the Emperor's bed.
Leonides hugged his knees. "When I said that you're the only one who sings for me, I didn't mean that you are special. You are," he stammered with his head in his hands, "but that's not what I meant. I'm not good with words. Forgive me."
Antinous turned and searched the soldier's face as he struggled to articulate his feelings.
"Agapo se."
A/N: I guess Leo knows a little Greek after all.
The Latin phrase dum vivimus vivamus, means "while we live, let us live," which I thought was fitting given the road ahead...
Only a couple chapters left. We will see Hadrian's POV before the story is over 👀
Do you think Hadrian will find out about the affair? How?
One of the images above is a detail from Cupid Chastised by Bartolomeo Manfredi (1613). It depicts Mars, the god of war, beating Cupid for having caused his affair with Venus. (It might also be a hint of what's to come in the next chapter).
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