Awakening

The weak candle light was flickering on Oenomaus' body which was darker than the night itself. Oenomaus, awake in his bed, was lost in thoughts even darker. Watching his sleeping wife, his eyes were full with mixed feelings: love, passion, affection, anger and grief. But mostly love, always love… How cannot he love her? Even the question was sacrilege; there was no Oenomaus without loving Melitta. He cannot define his presence under the heavens without this love beating in his heart.

He caressed her naked shoulder softly, afraid that his rough hands might bother the sleeping beauty with their touch. Her soft skin looked paler than usual lying next to him; her face snuggled to his side. Watching her pleasing beauty he remembered the first time he saw her: He was a fierce warrior back then, the most skilled gladiator, the favored student of Doctore, the champion of the House of Batiatus. There was no man in the ludus who was not looking up to him or afraid of his sword in that matter. He was favored by the ladies back then. Although he has never been a man-whore like Gannicus, he had always been aware of the eyes lingering on him in the arena, on the streets or inside the ludus. But he had never cared for the attention: it was a mere earthly thing, nothing of an importance for a gladiator who became a god in the arena… till he laid eyes on her, Melitta... How young she was standing behind Domina watching the fights in the arena. He had first thought that the shining Apollo was playing games on his eyes by revealing one the nymphs to tempt Oenomaus' mind away from the fight. Only after killing his opponent, he had realized that the temptation was an actual human being, a slave, the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. Days have added up to months while he was waiting for the temptation to leave. Finally he had realized that Oenomaus, the champion, was powerless against this delicate flower. Even so, it took him longer than a year to gather enough courage to ask for Melitta's hand as a favor from Dominus.

How coy she was at their first night, so young, so pure, truly angelic. She was not looking at him, but only at her feet, quietly sitting on the bed. His heart was full with the fear of rejection. His hands were trembling when he touched her for the first time, lifting her chin up to finally meet her gaze. Such warm, glittering, shy gaze; full with admiration. It was such a relief seeing the awe in her eyes, he gladly accepted it as love.

How he wanted to be back to those blind days… back to believing that his love found the equal response… believing that the passion he felt was echoing in her chest. But a part of him had always known it had only been a mere hope that her young admiration for the champion would turn into romance. For the Gods, it turned... It turned not to a passionate love as he longed for, but to a respectful companionship. It did not matter for Oenomaus though; he felt blessed even with the companionship till that cursed night.

He wanted to remove that night from his memory, his heart. Ignorance was truly bliss as wise men said. He had felt an agonizing pain as if his heart was ruptured to pieces when he had heard someone else's name from his beloved wife. The pain was greater than what the sword of Theokoles brought. It was no louder than a tiny whisper, but his trained ears had picked up every single letter, and the underlying desire immersed within: Gannicus. She was sleeping on his side, but her soul was in Morpheous' realm searching for her heart's desire. It took only a whisper to wake good Oenomaus up from his long lasting dreams. With a warm whisper, his memories shone in front of him, free from the shadow of the wishful hopes masking them: how many times he caught her eyes on Gannicus instead of her husband, how she was uneasy when his brother was present, how deep her reactions to Gannicus' fights, how upset she was getting for every single blow he was hit by…. Oenomaus had always chosen to accept these hints as sisterly care for a careless brother… as if there is any woman left in this earth having sisterly feelings for this fucking Celt!

But, was it her fault that she fell for Gannicus? The Celt was known to steal ladies' hearts like Paris of Troy. Truly blessed by Goddess Venus, seduction was a game for Gannicus, just another victory for the champion. Apparently the whores, the slaves, the lunatic crowd was not enough for him. He needed more to prove himself, more to fulfill the shameless desire of the cursed man. He had to reach the sacred flowers and stole the only treasure Oenomaus had in this world. He had stolen her heart and then treated her like a common whore! She was pleading his name in her dreams while Gannicus was fucking yet another whore in his cell, drunk senseless with his cheap wine!

The moment he heard Gannicus' name from her lips, he was to rage into Gannicus' cell to kill him in front of the whore he was screwing. But, when his brother's face came to his mind, the times they were fighting together, the times that he was beside him when Oenomaus was bedridden… Oenomaus' fury cooled down. Gannicus was a man-whore but also a true brother. Not in this world, not even in the underworld he wouldn't betray his brother like that. And Oenomaus knew that Gannicus loved Melitta. How many times he had protected her honor while Oenomaus had been hanging between this world and underworld after the great fight against the Shadow of Death. He wouldn't seduce Melitta just for the fun of it, Gannicus treasured her.

Oenomaus knew whose crime it was: He had only himself to blame and the knowledge was heavier than the sense of betrayal. Melitta had been in awe of the hero, the fierce warrior, the slayer, the strong Oenomaus. He remembered the times that he had been explaining the details of his victories in this very room. Melitta was to listen in complete attention even though she had seen everything in the arena. And the amazement in her eyes was better than the life itself for Oenomaus. She was to listen to the hope that one day they will be free with their honor, the promise he gave her. Now he was old with the years of blood heavy on his shoulder, wearing the mental of Doctore, the elevated position given for the old heroes. She was still young, the very same desires of the past still boiling in her veins. She was looking at her husband but finding only a shadow, instead of a champion. Now all she was listening to was the blubbering of a hero relic.

He desperately wanted to see if it was love that he had seen in her eyes back in the time, or was it the simple joy of youth? Was she ever in love with him, or was he only a pleasurable companion to her? Did he kill the love inside her with his endless self-pity, or his love never had its roots in her heart? One good result of being old, he thought, you know that there are no answers to some questions.

He was watching her lips again, like every night after that cursed one, to see if there would be another confession. And with every night the hope was rising: maybe it was just a nightmare Oenomaus had… Maybe it was his own Doctore's soul that entered his wife's dreams for one night to punish Oenomaus deeds… Maybe he was simply jealous of the current champion of the house and slandering his own wife …

It was time for Melitta to leave for the villa; he had to wake her up. He placed his arms around her fragile figure… hugging her, taking her sweet smell inside him. He put a tiny kiss on her cheek to wake her up. A whisper rose from her sleeping lips as an answer to her husband's kiss, devouring all the hopes, destroying Oenomaus: Gannicus...

PS: This is my first fanfic and also my first story in English. If it wasn't for my love for the characters in this show, I would never dare to write anything in my second language. I know it is not free of errors regardless how much I tired; but I hope it is understandable. I welcome all the reviews.

Languagestren GoogleCE

Ah