Liberty
-
-
His palm brushes past the flock of stalks.
(sandy coloured stalks, billowing in the soft breeze)
The sandy yellow stalks of corn passed by his calloused palm--it didn't tickle his palm or his senses. His palm had been hardened over the years, from hard work.
(he feels some sense of relief and joy—some sense of freedom course through his veins, body and heart)
It wasn't the nicest work either and definitely wasn't for the light-hearted—he had been forced into learning the way of the sword—the way of fighting and killing. It had only started out of bravery and pure, unadulterated loyalty to his country—to his home—and to the true emperor and ruler of Rome. But, after the death of the emperor, things had gotten out of hand.
And soon, anguish, bloodshed and revenge was a part of his life—no, it was his life.
(and for that, he hated himself for being so foolish)
The light of the sun is diminishing, he notes; his palm and digits pass by the sandy, golden stalks of corn.
Soft wisps of magnolia and pure pearl drifted by in the sky, melding with the different colours. Hues of soft pink, amber and auburn melded with a deep, rich shade of azure blue. The once pure, radiant gold glow of the sun had reduced to mere darker hue of cream. The peach glow of the sun wasn't as vibrant as the gold, it was much softer, lighter—it is gradually fading into the distance, mixing with all the other colours.
(It was beautiful—picturesque, the view…
…but it's beauty could never contend with her beauty)
Wavy tresses of mahogany, tawny and umber thrash about in the breeze, billowing in the wind—she is standing on the road—the corners of her deep, chestnut brown eyes are crinkled—pearl white teeth are on show, as she grins broadly. Her face is radiant—her features are vivid, as her face glows brilliant bronze in the fading, fluorescent peach glow of the sun.
In his eyes, she was ethereal—she hadn't changed one bit—her delicate, otherworldly features still remained.
Her soft beige coloured dress hung off her slim, slender body, billowing in the soft breeze—chestnut brown irises glowed and glittered with translucent tears of joy. She bends down, getting on her knees, to his sudden confusion.
(the confusion remains for a few fleeting moments, but fades away when he sees the youthful face of his son)
His skin glows radiant, glittering bronze in the fluorescent glow of the diminishing sun—wide, almond irises glow, his eyes glistening with pure joy and happiness. His lips stretched into a broad, happy grin, as she placed her slender palm and digits upon his shoulders.
She lifts one palm upwards, pointing a slender finger at the man.
(you feel the corners of your eyes crinkling and your lips curling into a smile)
His hand continues to brush past the flock of amber coloured stalks—he took his time, watching and scrutinising the picturesque, almost ethereal scene.
The soft lulling of the breeze soothed his senses, and slowly brought down his walls of apathy and passiveness—the incoherent lullaby tickled his senses.
The florescent fragrance of the fields and the cosmos, in general, was indescribable—it was exotic, intoxicating, captivating his senses.
He notices the sight of his son—his figure is blurred, only the deep mahogany and chestnut hues of his garments and hair are visible. The man feels some sort of emotion build up within his heart and soul—excitement and contentedness course through his body, veins and soul.
(his pace is increasing, as is yours--the stalks run through your fingers fugaciously)
The golden stalks of corn run through his fingers--he skims the whole stalk of corn, the sensation passing through his fingers, quick and fleeting.
(she continues to smile, waving a slender palm at you--for a fleeting moment, she looks like an angel, fallen from heaven…
…all for you)
Her wavy tresses billow in the cool breeze, dry and wispy—curls of mahogany thrashing about in the air.
(but, it is impossible for her to have fallen from heaven—)
The man and boy are soon running towards each other.
(—because the three of you were already in heaven)
The man mouthed only two words to the boy, the woman, the sky, the sun, the gods and cosmos itself—
(two words that were so small and short, yet meant something so much more, so much bigger—)
"Thank you."
-
-
It was not the cliché ending he had wished for—
"Now we are free…"
—but for him, it was enough.
"We will meet again soon…but not yet..."
He smiles, earnest and happy.
"Not yet."
-
-
A/N: FINALLY! This is the first time I've ever written a fanfic for something other than Naruto--heck, it's the first time I've ever written a fanfic for Gladiator. So, don't be surprised if it's bad or something.
Anyways, I have to say this--Gladiator is probably one of the greatest films I've ever seen. It is beautiful, amazing--the acting is amazing (Joaquin Phoenix is an absolutely AMAZING actor—as well as Russell Crowe!)—and the scenery; it is so beautiful! It is definitely a must-see (I mean, come on, it didn't win 5 Oscars for nothing!) But, if you don't like gore and are very squeamish, then I wouldn't recommend it to you, but other than that, anyone else should watch it! XDD
'Kay, enough recommendations ;) Review please!