A/N – This story is loosely based on Cleopatra and Julius Caesar with plenty of changes to make it my own – and no where near as sad of an ending. I'll try to add a historical note at the end of chapters. Carpe Omnia – the title of this story, is Latin for 'Seize it All'. Days and months are written in their Latin names. Dies Lunae is Monday, Maius is May and Calends was the name given to the first of the month. While historians unanimously agree that Cleopatra was of Greek decent and had a fair complexion with dark hair and green eyes, Olivia in this story stays true to character and should be pictured as she is on the show – not as Cleopatra would have looked.

Carpe Omnia

Chapter One: A Meeting, of Sorts

Dies Lunae, Calends, Maius 49 B.C.E.

Alexandria, Egypt

"The king has placed guards on all entrances, Your Majesty. He has ordered that should you attempt to enter; you be executed on the spot." Huck stood before the seated queen, the night breeze fluttering the flaps of the tent. They had been forced to camp at the outskirts of the city for weeks now. Olivia had fled the palace the moment she had learned of her little brother's plans. Marcus was tenacious about his desire to rule Egypt alone – contrary to their dearly beloved father's last wishes.

"Because the Roman general has ordered a meeting between the three of us. Marcus believes that if he bars me from the palace, the Romans will decide in his favor." The queen tapped her long nails on the wooden arm of her chair, deep in thought. The Romans had intervened in the Egyptians' feud the moment Marcus had presented General Fitzgerald with the head of his former son-in-law and political rival, Pompey the Great. Rather than pleasing the general as the king had planed, Marcus had angered the most powerful man in the world. It wasn't long after that General Fitzgerald seized Alexandria, giving orders to the king and commanding the queen to return to the capital. Olivia had yet to answer his summons – in part because she feared her brother's response to her return.

"There has to be a way! The queen cannot ignore the Roman's summons." Olivia glanced at her slave, Abby. The fiery redhead had been her companion since childhood.

"Make no mistake, Abigail," Olivia straightened her shoulders, "I return for my throne – not because some Roman has summoned me."

Sighing, Olivia retreated back into her thoughts. There were many secret passages that led into the palace and she was sure her brother knew of most of them. She could send a scout ahead – a loyal servant who could slip in and out of the passages to determine which ones were being guarded. Moments later, a young slave recommended by Huck was running toward the palace.

"Huck, I want you to take this coin and go to the market," the queen held a fat bag that jingled with her movements toward the large man, "Buy the most elaborate, beautiful rug you can find."

"As Your Majesty commands," Huck bowed, taking the coin purse from the queen's outstretched hand. Turning on his heel, he left the ten, not once questioning his queen's bizarre request. Olivia chewed nervously on her bottom lip – deep in thought once more. Her plan was a far-fetched one, but she believed that with Huck's help, she could make it work.

"Your Majesty," A young girl bowed, slowly approaching the queen. "Your dinner is ready." A servant behind the girl placed a plate of grilled fish and leeks before the queen. A bowl of figs sat on the table, next to a flagon of wine. Anything more lavish and it would draw unwanted attention. For them to camp so near the city, Olivia had to act more common than royal.

Olivia waited as the young girl tasted her food. She had employed a royal taster since she was a girl, herself, and the first attempts were made on her life, courtesy of her elder sister. Watching as the child backed away, unharmed, Olivia began to pick at her food – her mind drifting to her difficult past.

Chione – Olivia's older, cruel sister had never liked her. It was no secret that Olivia had been King Rowan's favorite daughter. Pharaoh had taken to calling her the 'Jewel of the Nile' at an early age. When the king had been forced into exile, Chione had taken his throne and made many attempts on Olivia's own life until she fled to Rome with their father. In Rome, she had first met Jake Ballard – the man who would later lead forced to regain the Egyptian throne for the king. There was rarely a moment that the young princess and captain did not argue. He had been Olivia's first kiss – grabbing the princess in a drunken fit. With any luck, General Fitzgerald would have left the drunk bastard in Rome.

"Your Grace." Abby's gentle probe brought Olivia out of her stupor and she tried not to look too shocked at the mess she had made of her meal. Shoving the plate away, she reached for her wine. She was too nervous to eat, anyway.

Hours Later

Palace of the Kings

Alexandria

"We've had no luck in finding the queen." Fitz nodded in the lieutenant's direction. He hadn't expected any less. The queen had fled, rightly so, fearing for her life. This was her country. She wouldn't be easy to find.

"You're dismissed." Fitz waved his hand and turned back to his maps. He and his generals had been poring over the pieces of parchment for hours. They had found no viable place for the queen to be hiding.

"Perhaps Marcus told the truth. Perhaps the queen is dead."

"The King's own advisor disagreed."

"Because he saw how furious Fitzgerald was when he presented Pompey's head."

"Enough." Fitz cast his gaze on his arguing generals. "The queen is alive."

"What makes you so sure?" Cato asked.

"If she were dead, they wouldn't be so eager to have us as guests. Marcus believes that I will help depose his sister."

"At this point, I believe it would be easier," Cassius muttered.

"Rome needs a united Egypt. Have you not heard the Egyptians in the streets? They brand Marcus a 'traitor' king and Olivia a goddess among mortals. Crowning Marcus would only create more strife." Resting his hands on the table, Fitz leaned forward to closely observe the map. A knock came moments later and the guards threw the door open to a sturdy, muscular man bearing a rug.

"Another gift from the king?" Cato rolled his eyes. Marcus's bid for Fitz's favor knew no bounds.

"A gift from the queen, my lord." The unnamed man kept his head bent as he addressed the generals. Fitz tilted his head – noting the constant glances the man gave to the carpet that he held cradled like a child. It was an odd way to carry a rug.

"How, exactly, did the queen manage to get a gift inside the palace walls without crossing my soldiers?"

"This is Her Majesty's palace."

"Indeed it is."

"Tell me: would it not be more comfortable to carry the rug over your shoulder?" Cassius implored, eyeing the man with suspicion.

"No, sir. It would be most uncomfortable."

"For you or the rug?" Fitz questioned as his generals moved their hands to their swords. For his part, Fitz remained reclined against the map table, having sensed no danger.

"Both." The ghost of a smile filtered across the man's lips as he gently laid the rolled rug on the floor. "The queen asks that you unroll her gift in private."

"Of course she did," Fitz smirked. "Cato. Cassius. You may go."

"But sir, what if this is a trick?" Cassius protested – his hand tightening around the hilt of his sword.

"What if the rug hides an assassin?" Cato agreed.

"There is no assassin hiding in that rug. Now go. I have an important meeting to attend." The other two generals eyed one another cautiously before retreating from the room. After the door had shut, the man made a move toward the rug.

"You may go. I will assist Her Majesty."

"How?"

"The queen performed a similar trick when she snuck aboard her father's ship on his way to greet me. Go. Get some food and drink. My men will see to your protection." The stout Greek bowed low, but stood resolute as he faced the general.

"Forgive me, my lord, but only the queen may dismiss me."

"Very well." Fitz moved toward the rug, grasping the end and yanking. The colorful fabric unrolled, revealing the beautiful, yet disoriented, queen. Bending, Fitz grabbed her by the elbow, helping her to her feet.

"Thank you, Huck," The queen's musical voice danced around the chamber, "You may take the general upon his offer, now."

"As you will, Your Majesty." Huck bowed lower than he had before as he backed out of the room. Olivia turned, leveling the tall Roman with her dark stare.

"We meet at last, general."

"So we do," Fitz turned, seating himself in his chair, "I feared you would not receive my summons."

"You believe I am here because you summoned me?" Olivia shook her head, the gold in her hair glinting in the flames of the torches. "I am Queen of Egypt. I do not answer to mortal men."

"Then whom do you answer? You were forced from your own palace. Your gods appear to be silent."

"I am a god." Olivia glared indignantly at the man before her.

"I thought your family had discarded that notion after conquering Egypt." Fitz reclined comfortably in his seat, reaching for a goblet of dark wine.

"My father was more Egyptian than Greek and my mother was Egyptian. A return to our roots was necessary."

"That is why your man bears the badge of the medjay?"

"The medjai existed to protect the true Pharaoh. My family's greatest mistake was discarding them."

"A wise move, gaining your countrymen's respect. Sit. Surely you are exhausted." Olivia's eyes flashed at the command and Fitz chuckled in earnest. The queen was feisty; he would give her that.

"Do not command me, general. This is my palace and you are but a guest." Still, Olivia seated herself before Fitz, her eyes flittering up and down his body – as if measuring him.

"It is your palace, yet you had to sneak in here like a common thief." Her steely gaze hardened at his words.

"You're here to end this dispute between my brother and I are you not?" Leaning back in her chair, she rested her arms on the armrests.

"Your father named Rome the executor of his will. I am here to ensure his wishes are carried out."

"My father did not see what a fool Marcus is. We cannot rule together. Egypt deserves better."

"Your brother comes to me asking me to depose you and here you are asking me to depose him." Fitz stroked his chin, deep in thought. If Olivia was uncomfortable or shocked by his bluntness, she did not show it.

"You cared for him." Olivia pulled Fitz from his reverie and he followed her gaze to the ring hanging from the chain at his neck. Pompey's ring. His son-in-law. The only connection he had left to his beloved Karen. Dead, now, by the order of King Marcus.

"He was a good man. He deserved a more honorable death."

"That he did. When we were children, Pompey was named our protector. It is disgraceful that Marcus murdered him when he came to us for protection."

"You knew Pompey?" Fitz absently played with the chain around his neck, the ruby of the silver ring glinting as it caught the torchlight.

"I had met him once. He was a good man. You will find the rest of his body ten miles to the west of the city walls – entombed and guarded by my men."

"How did you manage that feat?"

"My medjay has been hard at work."

"I will send soldiers tomorrow. Thank you."

"He deserves the burial rites of his countrymen." A silence fell between the two as Fitz stood, pacing the chamber while he fingered the ring around his neck. Olivia watched the general pace, measuring his form. He appeared strong and able –despite his age, and had the glint of wisdom only possessed by scholars in his eyes. Their silence was interrupted by a knock on the door and Cato's voice inquiring after the general. Excusing himself, Fitz left the room. Olivia could hear him giving orders outside the door and then the clanking sound of spears being crossed, bearing anyone from entering – or leaving.

As she waited for Fitz's return, Olivia plotted her next move. Their meeting had not gone as she had planned so far. He had intentionally tried to prove that they were on a level field – she was certain of it. No doubt, he was waiting for her to drop the 'goddess' persona now that she was not in public. Her beliefs ran deeper than that.

Fiddling with the rings in her ears, she contemplated her next move. Seduction had been her original intent – and it was still a viable option. But at this point, just how was she to carry out that plan without it appearing insincere? Lost in her thoughts, she didn't hear Fitz reenter, jumping when he spoke.

"Are you ready to retire?"

"I will send for Huck so that we may go."

"There is no reason for you to leave the palace. I will send my guards with you to your chambers."

Slowly, Olivia shook her head at his words, knowing that now was the time to make her move. "I fear that would not be enough – even with your soldiers' skill. At the moment, my brother does not know that I am here. The instant I arrive in my chambers, Marcus will know I am in the palace and he will begin plotting against my life." Standing from her seat, Olivia backed toward the door, praying to the goddess that her words had worked.

"Then stay here for the night. In the morning, the three of us will meet." Moving toward the bed on the far wall, Fitz turned toward the pile of luggage and retrieved a bedroll.

"There is no need to sleep on the floor." Olivia moved toward the bed, removing the earrings from her ears as she did so. Fitz eyed her before shaking his head and moving to unroll the bedroll. Sighing, Olivia tried again:

"I wouldn't sleep on the floor. Assassins have been known to lose snakes and scorpions in bedchambers."

Fitz stared from the floor to the queen, visibly concentrating on his decision. Finally, he abandoned his efforts with the bedroll and moved toward the bed, removing his sword and scabbard in the process. Olivia narrowed her eyes as he turned toward the bed, slipping out of his sandals and pulling the linens back.

"You sleep in your armor?"

"For your safety, Your Majesty," Fitz smirked, settling into the soft mattress.

"You can relax, general. I don't bite." Olivia slid out of her own sandals, placing them near the bed.

"You only sting, eh young lady?" Fitz chuckled. Olivia shrugged coyly and, with one gently tug, allowed her gown to pool at her feet. She giggled at Fitz's hard stare and the gulp of air he took.

"I hope you don't mind," she stated, slipping under the linens and turning on her side to look at the man beside her.

"Do I have a choice?" He shook his head, choosing to remain atop the linens.

"You're the one with all the power here and yet it is you, not I, who acts afraid." She settled back into the soft pillows as Fitz focused on keeping his eyes on hers – the thin linens left little to be imagined.

"You are very enticing and I am married." She lowered her lids, choosing her next words carefully.

"Your third wife. A political marriage. Well, general, I promise more advantages than your wife has brought you." She pushed herself into a sitting position, allowing the linens to fall from her body and reveal her chest. A smile played on her lips as her eyes darted below the general's belt – his excitement showing.

"More advantages?" His voice was rough – husky with want.

"Do your wife's image grace a coin? I can offer you a throne – an heir." She scooted closer, placing her hand on his chest and moving her mouth near his ear. "What is a mighty general without a legacy?"

"You make an offer that is impossible to refuse." He turned his head, bringing a hand to grasp her jaw, holding her face still as his lips sought hers. His lips were hard against her soft mouth, demanding, and soon he had slipped his tongue into her warm, inviting mouth. Her hands slid down his well-formed abs to the end of his tunic. Caught up in the taste of her lips, he didn't notice her hand had slipped beneath the short material until he felt her gentle touch on his hardened member.

"You waste little time," he murmured against her lips as she began moving her hands – tugging on his sensitive flesh.

"I know what I want." She drew his bottom lip between her teeth, suckling. He chuckled at her comment, a low rumble in his chest, and finally pulled away from her. A pout graced her beautiful lips as he stood from the bed – if he refused her now, he would be the first. Instead of leaving, however, he undid the straps that held his armor together – allowing it to clank to the floor and leave him in the same glorious unclothed state as Olivia.

Olivia took the moment to observe him. He may be older – roughly fifty-two to her twenty-one years, but his body was still in fantastic shape. His abs, no doubt from hours of sword work, were well defined and his arms bulged with muscle. His manhood drew her gaze – none of her former lovers were close in comparison. Everything about him oozed power and it wasn't hard for her to see just why the Romans believed this particular general of theirs to be divine – a perfect match for a goddess.

"Is everything to Your Grace's liking?" Fitz laughed, drawing her attention to his playful smile and twinkling eyes.

"I suppose it will do," she smirked, sitting up on her knees and placing her hands on his shoulders. Tilting her head back, she allowed him to capture her lips once more. Her hands travelled down his back to find purchase on his firm ass. She moaned as he moved closer – his cock grazing her stomach. It had been so long since she was with a man. Marcus had had her last lover murdered – terrified that Olivia would produce an heir before he.

"Lay back," Fitz ordered, pulling away and chuckling at the stubborn glint in Olivia's eyes before she complied and rested against the pillows, watching Fitz with a careful eye. Fitz appeared to drink in the sight of her laying on the soft mattress before joining her, his mouth eagerly seeking her breasts. Her hands drifted to his surprisingly thick hair. He exhaled sharply in discomfort as she pulled on the dark curls – causing him to suckle harder. Her legs wrapped around his waist as his tongue circled her hardened nipples – his hand rolling her other hardened tip between his fingers. Rocking her hips against his, she tried to increase the friction – anything to ease the uncomfortable throbbing between her legs.

"How long has it been?" He questioned, finally giving in and positioning himself at her entrance.

"Many seasons," she moaned, rocking her hips as he surged forward inch by delicious inch. "I assume you do not …" The pleasure of feeling him buried to the hilt took her breath away.

"I do not frequent my wife's bedchambers," he admitted – taking her moment of surprise to pull back and surge forward. She cried out again and again as he repeated his motions – arching her back in pleasure. His lips sought hers as they both raced toward their completion.

After, Fitz rolled to his back, breathing heavily and staring at the ceiling – trying not to chuckle at the image of the Egyptian gods above him. Perhaps Hathor had approved and blessed them. Olivia yanked the linens over her body – her skin still humming from unbridled pleasure. Finally, after many moments, he turned to his side, watching the beautiful woman beside him.

"I suppose you expect me to agree to make you queen now."

"I am already queen." She rolled her eyes, turning on her side and reclining her head on her hand.

"Then you won't protest when, tomorrow, I call for the throne of Egypt to return as it was." He had to admire her tenaciousness as she quickly sat up, clutching the linens to her chest and staring at him with abject betrayal.

"Egypt cannot return to how it was."

"Egypt cannot stomach a woman as pharaoh. It has not happened."

"There are rumors of women ruling as pharaoh in ancient times. Sobekneferu. Hatshepsut. Even Nefernefruaten is rumored to have been Queen Nefertiti."

"Rumors, Olivia."

Shaking her head furiously, she began to speak, "But …"

"You must learn to be dominant while appearing to be complacent."

"I can't do that with Marcus. His advisors - "

"Will be handled and I promise he will not think to drive you from this palace once more."

"It seems you can be quite the politician, Fitzgerald." She appeared to visibly relax, leaning against the pillows once more.

"When it is necessary. Rest now, my queen." Her eyes slowly slid shut before she had time to reflect on his words.

The Next Morning

"Is it true that my sister is in the palace?" Marcus demanded, stamping his foot like a spoiled child in front of the generals. Cassius and Cato shared an uncomfortable look – even they had heard rumors. Rumors that the queen had snuck into their general's bedchambers the night before. They did not know the truth.

"Not that we are aware," Cato answered, truthfully. Releasing a frustrated sound, Marcus shoved past the generals and toward Fitz's rooms.

"Your Majesty, you cannot –" Cassius began.

"This is my palace."

"Your Majesty – " The warning in Icarion's voice was too late. The king had already shoved the doors open. What he saw inside had him turning toward his trusted advisor with a look of fury on his face.

"Why is she here?" Marcus demanded of the naked Roman general before him, shielding the beauty that shared his bed from the prying eyes in the room.

"What are you doing here?" Fitz demanded, his blue eyes flashing. "She was invited. You; however, were not."

"I am the king."

"By my authority and mine alone. Leave us. We will meet later. When I have sent for you." Rushing forward, the king's advisor ushered Marcus from the room. Cassius and Cato lagged behind.

"We will inform the guards not to allow Marcus entrance," Cato offered.

"Please do," Fitz swung his legs off the bed and looked for his tunic, pulling the short, red material up his body.

"Welcome back to Alexandria, Your Majesty." Cassius bowed before he and Cato left the room.

"I promise your brother will be nothing more than someone to sit on that damned throne and look pretty." Olivia watched as he began fidgeting with the straps of his armor and stood to help him. Silently, Olivia rejoiced at her brother's folly. While she and Fitz bantered, Marcus had gone too far with his attempts to command the general.

"I'll send ladies to attend –"

"I can dress myself."

"Very well," Fitz nodded. "My bedchambers are open to you. Marcus and I will be in the throne room in one hour's time. I will flip the sandglass as I leave."

"Is that an invitation?" Olivia asked, bending to retrieve her dress.

"Take it as you will, Your Majesty." With that, Fitz exited the room – leaving behind a confused Olivia. After last night, how could he act so formal? Shaking her head, she tried to push the thoughts from her mind and finished dressing.

An hour later, Olivia found herself entering the throne room to the sound of raised voices. Keeping to the shadows, she watched as her brother embarked on one of his famous temper tantrums – flailing his arms and shouting in the face of the cool tempered Roman general.

"You have proven again and again that you are not capable of ruling this country alone." Fitz's cold voice echoed throughout the large room.

"Icarion –"

"Your advisor was the one who led you down this erroneous path." Fitz relaxed against his chair.

"You cannot expect me to rule with Olivia. She'll murder me."

"It is your only choice, Marcus."

"There has to be another way – Icarion will find it." With that said, the king stormed from the room and Olivia finally revealed herself to Fitz.

"That went well," she commented, resting her hand on the back of the golden chair he resided in.

"About as I had envisioned it would." Fitz stood from his chair, his sword clanking against his armor. "Keep my guards with you at all times."

"Where are you going?" A quizzical look marred Olivia's features.

Fitz sighed, a steely look of determination crossing his face.

"To prepare for a war."

Historical Note: Pompey the Great was Julius Caesar's son-in-law and the two did embark on a civil war which caused the former to flee to Egypt – where he was assassinated by Cleopatra's brother, Ptolemy XIII. Cleopatra is believed to have snuck into her palace to meet Caesar while rolled inside a rug – very little exists of the last Pharaoh's reign and thus most of what we know is from the writings of Plutarch who wrote extensively of Cleopatra although he lived a couple centuries after she died. Historians debate if Nefertiti did indeed reign as Pharaoh after her husband's death although the other two queens are known to have ruled as Pharaohs.