She Cried me a riverA Story by The Phantom King AlchemistI'm bored, I've got Marc Antony and Cleopatra on my brain... and I'm writing.The last time I saw her alone, she was crying.
Crying because I was leaving Egypt and joining Caesar for another campaign. Crying because she thought we'd never see each other again..... ~ ~ ~ I remember that day always, the day that I held her in my arms as she wept. I remember how it was to find her, utterly alone in her room because the slaves were to afraid to go in themselves. Flung down on her bed like a rag doll, she cried and cried until I was sure that she wrung herself dry as the dessert from so many tears, but still she wept. Through her sobbing I could make out only a few words. "Antony," "Love," "Me," "Die," "Caesar." What she said made sense and as I listened to her words and wails I felt my heart break into millions of tiny little pieces. Steeling myself for whatever might be thrown at me should she break further, I quietly went over and sat next to her on her bed. Placing my hand on her shoulder, I gently began to rub the special spot there that only I knew about, while I gently began to say soothing words to her. "Shh, Cleo... hush my Cleo. What's the matter princess?" Cleopatra tried to choke back a few more sobs but only managed to sound like she was strangling herself. Finally she was able to speak. "Sh-shut up. Y-yyou know what the m-matter is." I winced at her tone but I understood why she spoke with such venom in her voice. She wasn't blaming me, she was just angry, upset, and hurt. Gently, I tenderly ran the back of my hand down the side of her cheek, taking a moment to draw small circles on her cheekbone with my finger. "Cleo, I promise you, we will be together again. I... I just don't know when." I sighed in relief after I heard Cleo hiccup and saw that she was slowly but surely calming down. But as she turned and looked at me, I could see that her eyes still held all their fire and spirit despite the look of her tear stained face. "How, can you say that when you don't even know if you'll make it back from Horace-knows wherever you're going! How?" "Cleopatra, I swear to you on Jupiter's stone, by the blood of my ancestors and the long since dead Pharaoh's of Egypt. I will return to you. And if I do not...." "If you do not Marcus Antonius and I find out that you are dead... I will drag you back from hell myself and kill you again. And I swear by the blood of my mother the goddess Isis that I will repeat that process a thousand times for a thousand years." As Cleo said this, I could see more tears shining in her eyes ready to fall at a moments notice, and by the time she had finished her threat to me, she was crying again. Feeling my heart break yet again, I moved closer to her on the bed and pulled her up, safely holding her in my tight embrace. "There's no need for that my love," I whispered in her ear. "Because if I die... I'll ask Hades if I could do it myself." And so she wept in my arms that day, and that night, never letting go of me, never wanting to close her eyes and sleep for fear that she might forget me. ~ ~ ~ The next time I saw her Caesar and I were in Egypt together and we had just put her back in power. But that time when I saw her, she was in the arms of another. I knew that it was just an act so that she would still have his allegiance. Just so she would be on good terms with Rome and have protection of her power. But I didn't care. She hurt me, she hurt me good this time. Worse than the first time we had to say goodbye, and far worse than the time she slapped me and called me a w***e. I held everything back till I was alone, sitting by the window, looking out over the sea, remembering that time when we had to say goodbye. She had cried me a river that day. And I remembered the way she felt in my arms, crying on my shoulder and holding onto me like it was the end of the world, as if I was never coming back. My breathing became heavier the more I thought about her and before I knew it I had blinked and a single tear ran down my cheek. Picking it up on my finger I looked at it in the light. A pretty little thing it was, but so sad, before I had flicked the droplet off of my finger I realized that there were more tears running down my face like pouring rain. Feeling all these tears streaming down my face I felt my emotions quell and before I could stop myself I cried out like a wounded animal and began to tear apart my room. Bit by bit, piece by piece of furniture. I over turned chairs, shredded curtains, knocked over the bowl of fruit and pitcher of wine that was sitting on the table which in turn knocked over the table itself. The whole place was trashed and so was I. When I had no more furniture to knock about, I started on myself. I ripped my tunic, tore off my sandals, pulled at my hair, and threw myself into the wall a few times. Busting myself up as best as I could, I wound up with bloodied hands, feet, fingers, arms, legs, and face. Crying out once more, I fell face forward onto my bed (which was in shambles as well) and let all of the tears and cries and sobs come forth like a flood. I felt worse than Cleopatra must have felt when she knew that I was leaving her to go fight a war. She cried me a river that day. Now I cry her the Nile. © 2011 The Phantom King AlchemistAuthor's Note
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Added on December 29, 2010 Last Updated on January 1, 2011 Tags: Marc Antony, Cleopatra, Love, bored, romance, fiction, Rome, Egypt, Love birds AuthorThe Phantom King AlchemistPAAboutWelcome, I am the Phantom King Alchemist, Conjurer of Angels, Demons, and Ghosts alike. ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ^^ Hi I'm Sara (Aka Cleopatra, or Cleo if you pr.. more..Writing |