When Antinous wept so did the gods. 

It rained for ten days and ten nights after Leonides left the villa. The Tiber flooded and swept away the dock at Ostia. Sailors desperately patched their ships. Merchants rerouted to land and vendors cursed the sky.

Hadrian was uncharacteristically distracted. 

His only concern was that the weather not impact his upcoming journey east. As a ruler, it was no secret that he spent more time touring his empire than he did governing in Rome. He would be bringing Antinous with him on this tour. Antinous had been on shorter trips to Capri and Sicily for weeks at a time but the tour would last years. As such, the entire imperial retinue would be joining them. Including Commodus, and even Sabina, on their own ships.

For all intents and purposes Antinous was Hadrian's spouse and the Emperor made no attempt to hide it, but there were certain provinces that frowned upon the Roman custom of having a male consort and he was advised that Sabina should sit in where the boy's presence might offend. He agreed to bring the Empress but he had no intention of bending Roman custom to suit conquered foreigners.

"They will get on their knees and kiss your ring," he reassured Antinous.

"And if they refuse?"

"Graviora manent." Great dangers await. He mimed the wielding of a sword and swiped at Antinous' legs playfully.

On his previous tour east, Commodus and Hadrian travelled as companions, and he wanted Commodus to travel with him again, but when the noble learned that Antinous would be joining the tour he refused, saying the emperor's towering galley ship could not accommodate both of them because Antinous was the favorite and Commodus was second to no one.

It seemed to him some horrible joke that five years earlier Leonides had left him for the other side of the world and now that he was back in Rome, it was Antinous who would be travelling east. They were like two spokes on a wheel, spinning around an axis, never to meet.

He knew it was for the best. Leonides was safe now. That was all that mattered. Contact with Antinous was risky if not deadly. Yet locked away in a quiet corner of his heart was the small hope that there would be one more word, one more smile.

It was not all melancholy and gloom. He may have lost Leonides but he would be travelling through Bithynia on the tour and hoped to be reunited briefly with his family in Claudiopolis. His father's correspondence had been sparse and mostly about the land and local politics or what little he gleaned of it from gossip in the public latrine. Antinous longed to see his brothers and sisters but especially his mother who was so dear to him. She could not read or write but he often imagined what her letters might say if she could.

When it rained, Hadrian like to read to Antinous by the hearth in his library until the storm passed. The thunder frightened him when he was a little boy. Perhaps it still did.

His head rested on Hadrian's lap, while the Emperor twirled a finger around one of the boy's dark curls. He was reading from Hellenica, Xenophon's history of Greece in the aftermath of the Peloponnesian War. It was the story of his ancestors. The blood spilled in those battles was his blood.

"I am anxious about the tour," he confessed.

Hadrian brushed back his curls and pressed a hand to his forehead. He often treated Antinous' melancholy like a fever that could be broken. "What troubles you?"

Lightning flashed in the window, casting a sharp shadow across the divan where they lay.

"Last night I dreamt of all of the places we would be visiting: Libya, Sparta, Athens, Pelusium in Egypt, the Nile. But I awoke before I dreamt of returning to Rome. Is this a bad omen?"

He set the scroll aside next to the Grecian lamp whose warm light pulsed with courage against the dark.

"We do not travel to learn about the world, Antinous, we travel to learn about ourselves. If you cannot see yourself returning to Rome it is because you, as you know yourself to be, will not be the one who returns."

He was both curious and afraid of this future self. Pushing away these dark thoughts, he took the Emperor's hand.

"The one place I am most excited to see is the place I have already discovered. The place that knows me, that I know better than all the rest. May we stop in Claudiopolis on our route? I would very much like to visit my mother."

The Emperor stroked his beard in deep thought but ultimately evaded the question. "We shall see."

🌿

On the tenth day of the storm, Hadrian had no time for reading. He was locked away in his study with his advisors, pouring over maps of the empire to plan his route.

Antinous skipped around the echoing vestibule with Orodes dutifully trailing behind him like his shadow. Bored, they swung from column to column. The marble was imported from Corinth. The bronze urns holding a spray flowers were the spoils of Carthage, and the gemstones of the mosaic above was from his own land of Bithynia. Hadrian's whole villa was a map of the empire. Every piece was from one of Rome's conquered territories. Antinous often wondered what the world was like before it belonged to Rome.

They sat on the steps of the portico, hugging their knees, and watched the rain. It was as loud as the amphitheater and heavy as lead. Antinous stuck his foot out and his sandal was soaked in an instant. Orodes copied him. Now they each had one squishy sandal and one dry. They were about to head back inside when unexpectedly, the rain stopped.

A raven perched on the head of Venus with beads of water on his wings. He shook them off as carelessly as a noblewoman shook off her jewels, and flew away.

A ray of light pieced the clouds and struck the sundial. It was early afternoon when a moment ago it was dark as night.

He stepped outside. Though the rain had ceased the air was pregnant with moisture. He peered through the mist and saw no one.

The villa, twice the size of Pompeii, was completely deserted. The Emperor, his advisors, manservants and slaves were all inside.

Antinous was tired of crying.

"Come, Orodes."

They walked along the edge of the grotto like a tightrope, the stone slabs now baking in the sun, and made their way to Antinous' outdoor gymnasium. Orodes tiptoed over worms that were now wriggling to find their way back into the earth.

The villa was so large, it took nearly an hour to get from one end to the other by foot. They took a shortcut through the aqueducts, a path that the slaves had cleverly devised. Orodes picked up a stick and beat back the reeds that scratched at his master's ankles.

"Do you think that previous emperors ever built a villa so tirelessly grand?" Antinous thought aloud, panting.

"I heard Nero built a golden house in the metropolis."

"That sounds sensible."

"The people hated him for it. He killed himself." The slave's command of Latin was as blunt as a hammer.

"They love Hadrian and his villa could rival a hundred gold houses."

Orodes threw an arm over his shoulder and winked. "Yes, but Caesar was clever enough to hide his treasures in the countryside."

Antinous visited his gymnasium when he wanted to make sense of the world. Anywhere else, he had no control over his life but when wrestling he was finally the master of his own destiny.

Orodes liked to wrestle too and gamely removed his sandals. The shoes had once belonged to Antinous. He gave the slave many of his old clothes. It cheered him to see his friend in fine fabrics. The slave stripped down to his loincloth so he wouldn't soil his tunic.

In Rome, slaves were made in the image of their masters. Antinous once asked Hadrian why Roman slaves did not dress in uniform and he was surprised by his answer. "Because then they could see how many they are and know that they outnumber us." In that way his gifts to Orodes felt like shackles.

The earth was slick with mud. It was not wise to wrestle after a rainfall. Youths were careless.

The walls of the gymnasium were high. Sometimes he dreamed that the bricks and mortar were the stands of the Flavian. He tried to get Orodes to play along but slaves didn't dare dream. Life was filled with enough disappointment, he said.

Antinous kicked his long bronze leg back and stretched. In the years since he left school, he had become an exceptional wrestler. He beat every slave at villa and even a few legionaries. He tried not to boast. It was difficult.

They circled each other before locking arms and butting their heads together like rams.

The slave was strong and fast though not fast enough to deflect Antinous' attacks. They grappled until Antinous hooked his left leg around the slave's right, sending them toppling to the ground.

His knees sank into the cold mud as Orodes struggled beneath him.

The slave sat upright poised to strike when Antinous flipped him over and pinned his arm behind his back.

"Victorem!" The match was won.

He heard the sound of clapping behind him. Not imaginary clapping. Real clapping.

Disoriented, Antinous whipped his head around.

Leonides.

Impossible.

His heart skipped in spite of himself.

"What are you doing here?"

He glanced at the mud on Antinous' knees. "I could ask you the same question."

Antinous was not amused.

"The Emperor summoned me to advise him on his travel plans."

When did Leonides have time to ingratiate himself to the Emperor? Was there no one in the world whom he did not win over with his charms? He looked around to make sure none of Hadrian's manservants had followed him. Then he extended a hand to Orodes and lifted him out of the mud.

"I hardly think you can advise him from the other side of the villa."

Leonides withdrew an apple from the folds of his tunic and tossed it in the air. "Advising is done. We're feasting now."

"Splendid," Antinous said dryly.

"The Emperor's tour is extensive. He will be gone many years."

"I know. I'm going with him."

He was silent for a moment. "So we were reunited after all this time only to part again."

Antinous shrugged. "It would seem so."

He leaned over to retrieve his sandals, inconveniently located by the soldier's feet.

As Antinous bent down Leonides whispered in his ear, "You know he lets you win, right?"

Antinous' hands trembled.

"You do, don't you?" he quipped at the slave, "let him win."

Orodes, shocked by his accusation and impertinence, shook his head wordlessly.

"This is my gymnasium," Antinous spat. "I practice daily with slaves and legionaries alike."

"So they all let you win. Interesting." He stroked his beardless chin

Did he think Antinous would fall for so obvious a ploy? If he was trying to get a rise out of him it would not work. Not this time.

"You can't manipulate me. I'm not a little boy anymore."

"No, the little boy I knew fought with honor." Then he paused. "And he wouldn't trick his friend into meeting a statue."

Did this man have no sense of self-preservation? Did he not yet realize that Antinous was trying to save him from certain death?

He went toe-to-toe with the soldier, though he was still slightly shorter and had to look up.

"The Leonides I knew wouldn't be so easily tricked. The battlefield's made you dim."

He drew a sharp breath. "The palace has made you cruel."

Before Antinous could retort, Leonides pushed him. The boy almost slipped and fell in the mud.

"You can't do that!" he said indignantly, "I am the Emperor's beloved!"

"What are you going to do? Tell Caesar? Fight me? We both know you can't win a match."

Antinous slapped him. Yes, perhaps Leo could still get a rise out of him.

That was as good an invitation as any for the soldier to drag him by the scruff of his neck like a wayward pup into the arena.

Unlike Orodes' wiry arms and legs that bent at will, Leonides' golden limbs were thick and hard as stone.

Antinous tried to grapple but he couldn't even get a hold of him. Leonides seized him from behind, arms firm across his chest, their bodies flush. Slowly, the soldier's muscles tightened around his body.

He bit his arm.

Leonides released him with a scowl. "Cheat!"

Maybe so, but there was no Marcus there to keep score. Hadrian's villa wasn't a democracy, it was a tyranny, and Antinous was the crown prince.

But even princes had their limits. He launched himself at the soldier, throwing his entire weight against him and hit his chest with an immovable thump.

Leonides, who seemed to be humoring him rather than wrestling, let him land a few blows on his flank before getting bored and locking his arms around Antinous' waist. He threw him to the ground on his belly, pinning him into the mud with his knee. The boy flailed around until his tunic was completely filthy.

The soldier didn't have a speck of mud on him.

He let him have his fit. "Are you quite finished, little one?"

"I AM NOT LITTLE."

"That's a 'no' I gather."

After some time, due to exhaustion or simply humiliation, he stopped struggling and conceded the match with a whimper.

Leonides gestured to Orodes. "Don't let him win," he warned the slave. "He deserves better friends than that."

Orodes nodded.

He released his knee from Antinous' back and extended a hand to lift him up but Antinous rejected this kindness, his pride more wounded than his body. If it were Hadrian who upset him, the Emperor would be begging Antinous for forgiveness by now. Leonides would never make such a fuss. He wasn't swayed by the whims of others. He lived according to his principles, with honour. He was a better man than Antinous and the Emperor could ever hope to be. He was the best man Antinous knew.

The soldier tossed his apple to Orodes and left through the stone archway of the gymnasium.

Antinous' lip quivered and he would have sobbed into the skirt of his muddy tunic had Orodes not been there to witness his self-pity.

"Who is he?" the slave asked.

"The man who taught me how to fight."

🌿

They returned to the Emperor's Alexandrian gardens where he was entertaining his advisors by the fountain. The meeting had devolved into revelry as it often did after a few cups of wine.

A musician from a Roman theatre troupe played the pan flute to entertain them while thrushes sang along on the yew trees.

Water sprang from the mouth of a stone siren and bubbled down her breasts. Some of the drunker nobles jumped into the fountain like shipwrecked sailors.

Leonides was standing stiffly beside the general, Sextus, and several members of the Praetorian Guard. Foolishness was a privilege of the wealthy. A slave tipped a silver pitcher in their cups to cut their wine with water. Leonides took a sip and pressed the cool cup to the side of his neck.

The Emperor was stretched out on a dais surrounded by silk cushions and burning incense, behaving as though he were already in Egypt. If his advisors disapproved of these Eastern sensibilities, they did not mention it.

Remus and Commodus were close by, entwined in the grass feeding each other grapes. The leather straps of their sandals criss-crossed up their legs and fastened obscenely around their pale thighs. Commodus drew his young acolyte's hand beneath his toga. The boy's eyes widened when he reached the intended mark. Leaning back on his elbow, Commodus shut his blue eyes and let out a breathy sigh. The folds of his toga moved up and down as Remus' hand pumped steadily beneath it. They pretended to be discreet but this was clearly a performance.

If they were trying to get Emperor's attention, they failed spectacularly because all of his attention was on Antinous.

"Tinou! My darling, join us." He met him by the dais, stepping over Commodus and Remus' ridiculous display of illicit lust. The Emperor examined his tunic. "You're covered in mud. What on earth happened?"

"Wrestling happened."

The Emperor did not like to see his beloved get roughed up and he certainly did not like to see him get dirty, unless it was his own seed. But he knew Antinous had to release his boyish aggression somehow, and better though wrestling than one of his spells of sadness.

"Did you win, my love?"

Leonides watched him carefully, while the nobles sniggered.

Normally he would boast about his victory and make some snide remark about pummeling Commodus next.

He hated appearing foolish, especially in front of Remus and Commodus, who looked for any reason they could to embarrass him.

But he hated disappointing Leonides even more.

"No. I lost."

A/N: Commodus and Remus are hoes. I don't deny it 😂

We're off to travel the empire in a few short chapters. I'm surprised Hadrian stayed put for this long.

Why does Hadrian seem less than thrilled about Antinous visiting his family?

Antinous might have tricked Leo in the last chapter but he came back swinging 💪

I know they're being torn apart again, but love will find a way. Also, I'm not a monster.

Here is a detail from Le Berger Pâris (1787) by Jean-Baptiste Frédéric Desmarais. It reminds me of my Leo ❤️ It's a scene from Greek mythology that led to the Trojan War. The apple is a prize, and Paris, deemed the fairest mortal by Zeus, has to award it to one of the three goddesses.

We stan a neoclassical jock. 

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