To fall and rise And fall again, a spartacus: blood and sand fanfic

Title: To fall and rise. And fall again

Fandom: Spartacus: blood and sand

Characters: Lucretia, Ilithyia.

Summary: Not even the gods can stop her.

Notes: Set after 1x10 'Party favors'. This fic is the answer to a prompt left at the livejournal comm spartacus2010 event "Roman Holiday": Lucretia, (any season). Scorn, scandal, and social climbing. Lucretia doesn't know how to stop.

OOOOO

"Magistrate's response?"

"To be answered in blood."

(Spartacus: Blood and Sand, 'Party Favors')

House of Batiatus. Numerius' Toga Virilis

His intense stare at the magistrate and Solonius evidenced the true intent behind his words. "But Quintus!," she whispered alarmed.

"Tend to your duty and keep Ilithyia's lips sealed for the remains of this shithole night," he added, his eyes fixed on his prey.

Batiatus left to attend the guests, swallowing back his humiliation and displaying nothing but the layer of the kind and honored host. Lucretia knew it was a lie. Inside, he was seething, and already planning in his head what his words had meant. He was going to kill the magistrate. The sole thought drained the blood from her face and turned the stomach. She had to sit. "Naevia," she said to the figure she knew would be standing behnd, at a proper distance. She saw the slave come, quickening her moves when she approached.

"Domina, are you-"

So she looked as awful as she felt. Lucretia tried to calm her breathing, alarming the guests the last thing on her mind. "Bring me water, it shall pass."

Naevia turned quickly and went to fetch the drink. On her way her eyes saw Mira, still looking at the young boy who minutes before had ordered Varro's death. The honored guest of the night, sharing words with his family and Domina's friend in what seemed a cheerful mood, far from the gloom most slaves in the house felt upon them. All gladiators deserved a glorious death. She had seen, breathed and learned that ever since she could remember. A child's sudden caprice when given power to play with was not what Varro deserved. She had never heard bad words of him, and Mira had told her about the wife and child, and how he was the only man Spartacus confided in. And he had been forced to kill him. And instants later, life carried on, and they were slaves, and they had a duty. As she passed by, all Naevia could do was rub Mira's hand lightly with hopes of comforting the woman, hurting for the man she loved.

Mira hardly noticed Naevia's hand, but recognized the gesture and felt gratitude for the intent, yet her eyes could not part from the scene. First from the child, but then, his eyes guided her, unexpectedly, to the woman called Ilithyia. In her time as a slave in this house, Mira had learned to read faces. The boy looked at the Roman woman with lust, yet confidence too, and in the woman there was no surprise. And she glowed with the joy of having hurt him deep and hard.

Did they-?

A known and unwelcome accented voice interrupted her thoughts. "Dominus wants you to go to Spartacus' cell."

Mira nodded and followed Ashur.

"An eventful night," said the Syrian slave, his tone bereft of the heaviness of heart she was trying to carry.

"Horrible."

"To a few, perhaps."

"Not to you," she observed.

He shrugged his shoulders, indifferent. "Slaves come and go in this house, as Romans do."

"I still fail to see how could such a thing happen."

"You wish you failed to see, do you not?" Ashur smiled at the silence, proving him right. "A boy demanded it. And that boy was the son of the most important man in the room. How could that happen, you wonder. Only a slave could ask herself such a question. How could that not happen, would be the question. And the answer, simple. It happened." They arrived at the edge of the sands. "You know where he sleeps. Go fuck and make our champion happy."

The water soothed the mind and body, and soon all the guests would be gone. In need of fresh air, Lucretia went out to the balcony, lost in her thoughts, afraid of her husband's plans. That boy, forcing Quintus to cave in publicly, to lose one of his best gladiators. That imp with thoughts beyond his age had cause the dent.

Mind came to a halt when she saw the lone figure standing outside. So unlike the prior days, emotional devastation was gone, and superiority up. She was not the spoiled girl anymore. Now she wore her true layers. Lucretia recognized the change. She had lived that change. Struggling in a world made for men, finding her place, a place earned and cherised and loved beyond reason. The first blow, Gaia's death. Then Quintus' father attempt to leash his son with a short chain, getting rid of her. She had fought back and risen. And once that old man was sent to the afterlife, she had joined Quintus in the balcony, mind set on the future, daring the world to come at her, almost wishing for it to challenge her. That same look, air of power, flowed inside Ilithyia now. And there was one threat, Lucretia realized, the wife of the legatus would willingly crush: them. And Lucretia knew that Ilithyia could and would try it.

"You look well."

Ilithyia turned her eyes to the familiar voice, yet did not find the glowing Lucretia she had seen through the night. "Unlike you. Even the darkness cannot conceal your paleness. Are you ill?"

"Only tired," said Lucretia. "You were at ease tonight."

Ilithyia smiled inwardly, then led her voice to sound pleasing and meek. "An impossible feat, days ago." She held Lucretia's hands. "Your help was a treasure, Lucretia. It was your aid what helped me rise and set my roots firmly again."

She was not fooled, and refused to let Ilithyia steer the conversation. She sought for information. Would she turn against them? "The death of the gladiator seemed to please you."

"The rise of manhood, fearless of its acts, fresh in its wake reminded me of how great we can be when given wings."

Given wings?

"I will not lie, however, in saying the suffering of Spartacus did not comfort me. If the Thracian refuses to die as he should, let him suffer in life and bring this house good fortune while it lasts." Ilithyia kissed her and left her alone in the balcony. "Good night, my dearest friend."

A kiss. And yet again I cannot assure where does it come from. Love, friendship, hatred. Ilithyia leaves me with new concerns. One thing I have learned, she never speaks without sense, however loves to hint, rather than show, the true meaning of her words. Her enigmatic words and the sudden elevation in her attitude resemble those of a wounded animal set free to avenge its offender. Suddenly I doubt approaching the legatus shall be our safest path, and I wonder if we should not shelter under a bigger shadow. This house has held celebrations over the years, with some distinguished guests from Rome, today elevated to senators. Most belong to a darker time Quintus wishes not to remember, a time when he had to plead, when men approached him because of his father, still now, memory cold for most, warmly remembered by the men who knew him.

I think of Varis, whom I secretly despised when he forced Melitta to be entered by Gannicus, and I turn my thoughts quickly to others, pausing in Petronius. A charming man of pleasing looks, impressed by our offerings. Today a Senator, and to my knowledge, still visiting Capua.

Would Quintus consider? Would he agree if I were to convince him to let his ambition rise in pursue of patronage to Rome's very heart? The night turns colder and my stomach churns again. Before joining Quintus in our bed I walk quickly to the small shrine, to light a candle and silently pray to Juno. I see Naevia, my loyal slave, standing at a prudent distance, set on remaining awake until I am in my husband's arms.

I fear Ilithyia may unleash her wrath, and if her dark secret were to be unveiled at an improper time, disgrace would fall upon our house. To Juno I pray, may you keep us from it and from your wrath, for we are but servants. Let us rise and be forced to kneel no more. May you-

"Domina!"

OOO

Every preparation had been prepared with the most exquisite care, under her direct supervision. All gladiators had been instructed to follow specific commands. There would be demonstration if commanded so. They would have to perform any duty demanded by the guests. Only the best wine and food would be offered, and a very special delivery, an old friend, brought from Cyprus. Lucretia kissed the vial in remembrance of the dearest friend. This would not be as it was with her.

There would be scandal, scorn and vengeance.

Lucretia walked to Quintus' office, to find her husband sharing drink and words with an old known and very distinguished friend.

"Quintus, I-"

"I'm sure you remember Lucretia, my wife."

"With clarity," the senator said.

"This house harbors significant memories."

"For the better, one hopes," Lucretia managed to say, remembering that first time she met him in Capua, led by Gaia while she helped them and sought for a husband of her own. Petronius, then a noble patritian, now risen to the senatorial ranks.

"I…heard the celebration ended on a sour note, and I must excuse myself for parting and never coming back."

"A man of your station surely had business to attend. Alas Gaia's tragic loss was sad, soon followed by a relative's passing, yet the House of Batiatus stood proud and healthy, as you can see."

"Ah, Gaia. A sad loss, indeed. Yet predestined, from the rumours."

A warning look by Quintus stopped her tongue.

"The woman drank and sucked whatever unfortunate man dared to marry her, and she always favoured wine too much. May she rest with Bacchus now, probably the only one able to follow her," he said raising his cup. Lucretia looked away as discretely as she could, to avoid seeing Quintus raising his cup responding to the senator's distasteful jest.

She died because she loved me. She died because she was murdered. Lucretia breathed.

"It is sadness that I am in Capua not for pleasure but as a favour to a dear friend."

"Marcus Licinius Crassus," said Batiatus gravely. "A very close friend, if he has a senator come to Capua to ensure his cousin's disappearance is being properly investigated."

"The purple is so new to me that I still do not behave like a senator, I'm afraid."

And Crassus was the richest man in Rome. His favour in the Senate would soon equal power. And who would not want such a thing?

"My eyes see a distinguished man before me, and our house is humbled by your presence, senator Petronius."

"After today's magnificent display in the arena, one could not pass the offer of a private viewing before the celebration."

"Spartacus will be brought as soon as he is cleaned. In the meantime, let us go to the balcony so you can see the stock we have to offer. Good Sextus mentioned you were in need of gladiators for your games, and I am afraid his favoured lanista, Solonius, has run out of them."

"Good Batiatus, never asleep in business."

"I am the best at what I do, whatever task that is. Today is the work of a lanista. Tomorrow only the gods know."

"Looking beyond the sands?"

"Would you not if you had capable hands to take care of the business for you? Come, I shall introduce you to the man who shaped our champion, a legend himself."

Lucretia smiled briefly and welcomed Quintus' gentle touch, a hand over hand that spoke worlds. The man knows what everyone was forced to know, and the monster who killed her was killed in due course. Still yourself, and see this done. It ends tonight.

Lucretia took a spare cup and walked along the corridor, followed by Naevia carrying the wine. She stopped, briefly, before the curtains. "Naevia," she spoke softly. "The wine." Naevia poured it. The powder followed. "Leave."

"Yes, Domina."

Lucretia let the opium dissolve and entered the room. "Will you not attend the celebration tonight?"

"I heard a name you had not asked me to invite."

"You should wear the blue dress," said Lucretia ignoring her.

"A senator, rival of my father."

"Petronius? A completely unplanned coincidence. Not inviting him tonight would have arisen suspicions."

"He is here because of Licinia's death."

Her voice was tense, her eyes terrified. Lucretia smiled like a wolf soothing a sheep before the slaughter while she looked among Ilithyia's dresses. "Dissapearance," she remarked. The blue dress, definitely. You shone in the magistrate's son celebration."

"You would have me suffer before a man who could kill me and give no explanation about it?"

"I would have you seal your secret before the only man who can truly direct Marcus Crassus to you. If you free yourself from such a powerful man, the gods will favour you to be liberated from such a burden and you shall never have to return to this house again."

"You would let me part, then."

This time she would be the one holding in patronizing fashion the other's hands. "A friendship like yours could be a blessing and a curse. I bear no pleasure in playing with fire." She offered Ilithyia the wine after taking a sip. "Drink, it shall make you feel better."

She did not take it. "You want me to be under wine's influence before Petronius?"

Lucretia took a step closer. "No. Petronius shall see you at your best and most lucid state tonight. I want you under the influence before me." Lucretia took another sip. And then offered her the cup. "If this is to be our last night, let us bid farewell to each other properly." Ilithyia finally took the cup, hesitant, as if not wanting to succumb to her inner desire, one sprouting against her will, as arousal entered her body at the touch of Lucretia's warm lips on hers while her hands explored below.

She caved. "The blue dress, then. For our last night as friends."

Ilithyia held on to the taller woman as she was leaned back into the bed, the opium flowing already taking an effect, yet as she was going to reach for more, Lucretia stopped her hand. "No more." Then directed it to her own thighs. "You do not want to forget this night and be not in control of yourself later."

"I do not want to be in control of myself now."

"Let yourself loose, and that shan't happen."

This is not like it was with you. Tonight shall have scandal, scorn and vengeance.

OOO

She would have been expected to go prepare herself before the event. She went to seek for her husband and the senator instead. As Fortuna would have it, she found Petronius alone, observing the gladiators' sculptures. "A true powerful addition," he said referring to Spartacus'.

"He made himself a legend by defeating the Shadow of Death. The Thracian pleased the Gods and they brought us much needed rain. My husband commissioned the statue in their honour for watching over us."

"You believe in Gods," he observed.

"I speak to them often."

"Do they listen?"

"Always," she proclaimed convinced. "Their judgement is theirs alone, yet they always listen."

"So our destiny is not in our hands, but in theirs."

"We live our lives, make decisions, take chances. And those have consequences. Sometimes we expect them, others they come as a surprise. The final decision is not ours and, often against our will, we all share the same fate."

"Death."

"Only the Gods live forever, but they give us the gift of life, and this Earth to walk it. We honour or dishonour such grace with our acts, yet we do not control our final fate. So yes, our destiny is ultimately in their hands."

"Crassus bedded a vestal virgin, and yet was absolved of the crime. Was that the hand of a God?"

"Crassus is younger than my husband, for whom I wish many years of life to come, and he can already look at most of Rome's citizens from above. He is but a pretor, and yet he has a senator walking our rooms, admiring gladiators' busts and speaking of favours for his friend. Would you not consider such a man blessed by the gods?"

"Crassus will own the fucking Republic, no one doubts he shall reach the senate sooner than later. I shall keep him by my good side."

"And so the Gods look upon you as well."

"Your husband does not seem to share your vision. He spoke highly of his merit in this house's current fame."

"He worked for it, yet it is true he tends to…"

"Blaspheme?"

She could not help the smile. "Sometimes I fear his bold tongue."

"Fear it not, it shall be a true friend in his political path."

Her eyes grew round in surprise.

"Elections come, Rome opens the opportunity for public acts in search of the people's support. We campaign in Hispania against Quintus Sertorius. Support for wars outside home are not often felt as necessary for our citizens. The games in the sands, especially gladiators, help gain that favour. Remind them of the vastness of Rome, of the need to keep peace in a world laid for us to own."

"Spartacus then an obvious ally in the quest," acknowledged Lucretia.

Petronius nodded. "It would seem you will go to Rome. Gods smile upon you too."

"And you, for you shall return with the mystery of Licinia's death solved."

"Death?"

Lucretia nodded gravely. "A crime concealed with shame and under obligation, whose solution will not only bring you and Crassus closer, but also a definite blow to your rivals in the Senate."

"Rivals?"

"Friends disguised, ready to attack like serpents. Legatus Glaber campaings for pretor. It is likely he shall seek Spartacus too, claiming he was the man who brought the Thracian to Roman soil, and surely supported by his father in law."

"Senator Albinius. He expects to be chosen as one of our two censores for the next lustrum."

"Glaber would have the Senate send him to Hispania and bring back Pompei, would he not?"

"The war in Hispania is balanced in our favour, yet rumours have it that the northern people are still a powerful enemy."

A nod. "The glory of defeating the last rebel reduct in Hispania in the hands of a young pretor."

"What does Glaber have to do with Licinia's death?"

"His wife murdered her." The words hurt, but they had to be said. She would miss Ilithyia, in a way.

"And you harbor her under your roof?"

"A golden jail. And I just gave you the key," said Lucretia with stark confidence. "Mira," Petronius had not seen the slave standing in the shadows. "Take this man to Ilithyia's room."

"You enter treacherous lands." The statement was a warning, not a threat.

"I am but a woman. I seek my husband's fortune. And justice served to those who deserve it."

Petronius looked at her, as if trying to decipher the strong woman, and, unable to do it, for her words truly meant what she had said, he left.

"It is done," a masculine voice said stepping out of the shadows.

Lucretia closed her eyes as her husband approached. "Ilithyia will sing no more."

"And soon we shall be welcomed in Rome, and our child will know of wealth and joy."

"Our child?"

Quintus ignored her question as he kissed his wife. Lucretia saw Spartacus entering the room from the corner of her eye.

"The beast takes us there, Lucretia," said Batiatus, unaware of the Thracian in the room approaching.

He was by their side before any could do a thing. "And there I shall see you die, like you deserve. I was a curse, like you claimed me to be."

"Quintus!"

OOO

"He is not here."

She was no longer standing in the room, she was in her chamber, in her bed, surrounded by slaves. Her hand held by Ilithyia, who was wearing a blue dress.

Was it a dream?

"What happened?," she asked nervous, trying to sit up. "The celebration, I must-"

"You must rest. Naevia found you unconscious. Too much wine in your condition."

"I did not-" Condition? "Where is Quintus?"

Ilithyia made a gesture for the slaves to leave. "You," she told Naevia, "bring your Dominus here."

Still hazed, Lucretia nodded to Naevia's discrete question of acceptance of a command that had come not from her.

Once alone, Ilithyia sat closer and caressed Lucretia's pale cheek. "How are you feeling?"

Lucretia ignored the question, still shaken, and looked at the blonde. "Why are you here?"

"Your husband would have you accompanied at all times while he spoke with the medicus."

"The medicus?"

"You fainted and would not regain consciousness. Yet worry not and fill your heart with joy."

"Joy?"

"Your prayers have been answered," said Ilithyia smiling. "You're with child. Surely the Gods favour you." Then her face turned serious, and her voice followed. "Yet if you do not stop your ambition, I am afraid they shall not be on your side anymore. You reached your limit, Lucretia, you and your husband. The magistrate aided in halting his ambitions for his own good. Follow his advice."

She speaks as if she were a god passing warning. "Or what?"

The dagger plunged inside her belly before she could defend herself. "Or be destroyed by it."

OOO

She awoke sweating and agitated, her hands clutching her stomach.

"Lucretia."

"She was-"

"She who?"

"Ilithyia, she- she said and did things, and-"

Quintus grabbed her arms and forced her to look at him. "You fainted last night, Lucretia, and have not regained consciousness until now."

Sunlight revealed night had passed.

"Was I…am I…" She loked down.

"Your…bleeding. Midwife said it was too… Speak with her, those are not my affairs."

No child. Both were dreams. Or nightmares. They plotted against Ilithyia, sought another alliance and were punished for it. I was praying to Juno. Was that her answer? My dreams?

Lucretia regained herself, setting the mind far from fleeting dreams, yet unable to wonder if that was a sign. "Yesterday we had a celebration." She was not sure that was a question.

"The magistrate's son's birthday."

"You said some-"

"Concern yourself with other things."

"But Quintus, what you said-"

"No longer in my plans. "

"What has changed?," she asked, not understanding.

"Everything, Lucretia. Everything," replied Quintus smiling, almost triumphant. This morning, in the market, I crossed paths with Sextus."

"The former magistrate?"

"The fucker of sheep lives now in Rome among white, red and purple."

Quintus still harbored rancour for the magistrate pleasing Solonius' suggestion to grant Gannicus freedom. Had it not been for Crixus' swift rising to glory, the House of Batiatus would have been seriously threatened before the stock Solonius had acquired back-stabbing his former friend.

"His business in Capua?"

"A favour for a friend, one who knows this house and has heard of our champion. Today a senator."

Lucretia swallowed. "A senator?"

"And in good relations with Crassus."

This was a sign. And there I shall see you die, like you deserve. I was a curse, like you claimed me to be, said Spartacus. Or be destroyed by it, warned Ilithyia. No child, and all I had done before fainting was sending a prayer to Juno. Is this your answer?, I repeat to myself. Is this our place in this world? Is this the highest we can reach, Quintus and me?

"If we play well our part, soon we shall not have to worry about Glaber, Ilithyia and their arrogant offenses, and we shall reach Crassus' favour through support from the senate itself, Lucretia." He kissed her. "Ah, the gods favour us. They fucking do!"

"Quintus…"

"What?"

"Who is this senator you speak of with such confindence?"

"The name is Petronius. He attended…"

"I remember the man."

"We must act with caution."

This is our path.

"Everything must be carefully laid."

This is where it ends. We must stop ambition or we shall be destroyed by it.

"Do you hear me? Lucretia?"

"Yes?"

"I shall need your help. There will be scandal, scorn and vengeance, yet we can withstand it. Will you stand by me and see us rise?"

If I do, we are doomed. Stop now. The gods spoke to me

"You are my husband, Quintus. I love you."

This is our fate.

"I will be by your side until the very end."

Fin.