Title: Unbalanced (Sura, Lucretia, AU, T)

Rating: T

Notes: originally written for the livejournal community sbsfemslash's 2010 drabble table. Prompt: alternative.

Summary: AU. Sura arrives at her destination as a slave.

OOOOO

Another blow.

"Speak, you filthy slave!"

If I speak, I give up my will. Sura kept her eyes shut as she drew a sharp breath and placed her arms around her aching sides. There was no further physical pain left to be inflicted upon, and her will was the only possession still in her hands. She could not afford to lose it, she knew it would be her only way to his arms. And the gods had promised she would be in his arms one last time. See his eyes, hear his voice.

Sura loved his voice.

Another blow crossed her face. She felt the chewing tooth come loose and she spat it, together with blood. The man commanded to beat her no longer bore a neutral face. Regret and shame framed his features, yet he had no other option. This woman he called Domina, she did not take her title lightly.

There was another slave. A woman, behind the Roman and hidden in the shadows, head and shoulders down. Sura had caught but glimpses of a dark skin she had never seen before in Thrace, and remembered the words the Roman had spoken to her husband, pride filling his mouth, as she was taken away from him.

The shadow of Rome is vast.

The blows stopped, and Sura felt the Roman woman kneeling and then grabbing her by the iron necklace branding her as a slave. Everything hurt. "Look. At. Me."

Sura did, bereft of submission, an attitude that inflamed the Roman further.

This time the blow came from her. She was as strong as she looked, and Sura understood that forcing other slaves to beat their equals was but a demonstration of power over them.

So this was what would be with her until she saw her husband one last time, a power struggle from unequal and unbalanced grounds. The thought and knowledge of what was to come gave Sura strength. "M-my name is only f-for him to hear. Y-you…" She swallowed. There was still blood in her mouth. "You c-call me w—what you w-will. M-my name is…I will o-only listen t-to it fr-from his l-lips."

The hand that grabbed her pushed Sura to the ground, and the new slave almost lost her breath when the sandals kicked her with all the strength the Roman was capable of. Repeatedly.

"Lucretia!"

The new voice halted the beating. It was that of the man who bought her in the market.

"The fucking slave won't speak her name."

Sura opened her eyes, and saw the man kneeling and looking at her, then standing again. "Nor she has any strength or teeth left to say it now." His tone was condescending in a way, yet effective. There were no more blows given. "Give her a name, and have Crixus back to his training, he is a fucking gladiator, Jupiter's cock, not a house slave!"

Two guards escorted the man outside. A gladiator he was. Sura spit more blood and tried to regain her breathing, flinching when she felt a touch, calming only when she realized it was the slave girl, looking at her with concern. "You need to stand," she said offering support with her arms.

Sura accepted the help and stood, her battered body trembling, but feeling grateful for the gentleness in the woman. "Gratitude." They started walking slowly.

"Why would you not speak your name?," she asked with honest curiosity.

"It was not for her lips to say it."

The determination in the woman was beyond comprehension. Naevia decided not to ask and led the new slave to the medicus.

Fin.