Month One

Sibyl rose from bed and found self upon unsteady feet, swaying lightly as a candle flame was want to do when accosted by gentle breeze. Outside she heard the delighted squeals of her children, comforting her like the sun did when face was turned towards comforting rays. It was a common sound, her children's laughter, especially when their father was around. Gannicus would be back from days training and priority would be to spend time with their babies.

Sibyl felt her tummy churn and took a deep breath, leaning against the door-frame for balance. She should see Nasir again. Perhaps body was reinfected, especially with so many within the village still similarly afflicted.

The village had steadily grown in the last year. Gannicus had renovated initial homestead, adding two additional rooms and enlarging the living space. Made of large blocks of stone and wood, the structure was solid, comfortable, their first home. It was made their own over time - large, soft rugs for the children to play upon, wooden furnishings carved by those who lived within their community, colourful pillows and fabrics traded from a nearby city, mosaics and clay pottery offered as payment for Gannicus's tutelage.

Kore and Oenamaus shared a room, their pallets thick but lowered close to the floor when they began to crawl, then walk. They had not yet seen 11 months when they took first steps, their parents making offering to the gods to celebrate their numerous blessings.

"You truly believe in the gods now?" Agron had asked of Gannicus when he aided in lighting ceremonial incense.

"Look at all we have achieved. By miraculous gamble, we stand alive. We have done the impossible and lived to tell cautionary tale to others. I have gained wife and loving family." He shrugged. "How can I not believe?"

Sibyl's thoughts came back to the present as she watched her family. Upon grassy patch, beloved husband tended to their wagon, the wheel having broken for the third time. Despite his task, he kept a watchful eye on Kore and Oenamaus who play nearby, now almost 13 months old. The day unusually warm, they ran barefoot, absent caution, flinging flowers and blades of grass, gurgling and babbling as their little toes curled in the soft, muddy earth.

Kore. Sibyl smiled. Her daughter was a handful and the spitting image of her father. Her temperament, it would seem, was crafted by the gods in similar vein. She watched as her son intently crushed flowers in his dimpled little hands, frowning when the petals fell, the flower destroyed.

Oenamaus. So much like her; earnest and a little cautious. Where Kore leapt absent thought, he seemed to consider before taking action. Even in one so young, more thoughtful nature was already apparent. He was quietly independent, gentle, but knew his mind.

Despite their differing temperaments, the siblings loved each other and engaged in no shortage of rough play. With a village full of former gladiators, she had given up trying to curb it. It stood as inevitable fate. Especially when their father told them bedtime tales of victories in the arena. They were energetic, curious, happy children.

She saw Laeta approach and waved cautiously. Again her stomach lurched and she inhaled deeply, controlling her breathing. She would not be sick, she said to self, rubbing her belly in soothing circles.

Gannicus kneeled beside his wagon, examining the axle. He had relied upon others in the village to provide aid, but it was time he tended task himself.

The weather was starting to warm as they moved from the chill that signalled the coming of spring. Trees again began to bear leaves and flowers bloomed in riotous colour. His life was less chaotic than it had ever been. Truth be told, compared to what he had endured in years past, it was practically sedate.

While there were days he yearned to feel clash of sword, it was far outweighed by the joy he received from providing for his family. The notion alone proved how very different he was from the man he always believed resided inside of him. He had never imagined self as father and husband. Yet as well-worn cloak, it had easily settled upon shoulders, burden willingly carried.

With the anniversary of Spartacus's death upon them, days were filled preparing for annual gladiatorial games. Time was particularly rushed because Sibyl still recovered from winter's affliction. First Oenamaus had caught the chill, then Kore and finally his wife. While the twins had made speedy recovery, her progress was less swift. As such, while Laeta and Diana would help in the afternoon, he had taken to having the twins with him in the morning to give her more time to rest.

"Da da da da!" He looked to his right and his heart stuttered. Kore, who had a moment before been playing in the sand with her brother, hastened towards him. He had barely managed to turn when she collided spectacularly with his legs.

"Always swift and impatient as an arrow," he said, looking down at her little body. She stomped her chubby legs impatiently and smiled, her little teeth showing in an ear splitting grin.

As was usually the case, he could not help a matching grin from plastering itself across his own face. It happened often when he gazed upon them. His lips would be curved skyward before he even realised it. His daughter not only took after him in looks - with her yellow hair and brown eyes - but he swore to the gods that she took after him in character. She laughed often, had a sunny temperament to rival his own and favoured the opposite sex – a thing that caused him great anxiety. Fuck the gods, but she had great affection for Nasir - and especially Agron.

Standing upon her toes, she lifted her little arms towards the heavens, universal sign for "raise me from ground." Gannicus bent and swung her into his arms, her giggle doing funny things to area around his heart. He placed a soft kiss to the identical dent in her chin and she clapped her little hands on his rough cheeks.

"I swear, seeing you two side by side is like staring at side of same fucking coin. Addles mind." Agron kneeled beside Oenamaus who still play quietly by himself, hitting the ground and muttering, "na na na," softly, but industriously. Agron rustled his dark mop of hair with affection, the strands curling at the toddler's shoulders.

"As days pass she looks more and more like me," Gannicus said with a chuckle, unable to hide his pride.

"Pretty, feminine kind," Agron said with a wink. "In truth brother, face was yours since moment she greeted this world."

Already Kore squirmed to be free and Gannicus set her down, watching as her plump legs carried her directly into Agron's waiting arms.

"Agah!" she called.

"She shows great affection for men." Gannicus winced.

"In that she demonstrates fucking excellent taste." Agron scooped her up and tickled her tummy. Her laughter rang across the clearing and her father scowled. "Apologies," Agron said at look. "I know Sibyl has rule against bending tongue towards more colourful terms."

"Since Oenamaus attempted to say fuck upon a day. Thought I might no longer stand a married man."

Kore leaned in and placed a wet, open mouthed kiss upon Agron's cheek. "One might have expected attempt to come from Kore. But Oenamaus!" Agron laughed loudly.

"The fucking gods bless and curse in equal measures. She will give me hell upon a day."

"She looks like her father and acts like him too. Fear the day she comes of age brother. Already I see a stubbornness and feisty independence."

Gannicus shook his head, bending to collect his son. "Da da," he said softly, grabbing a fistful of his father's shoulder length hair, content to be held. Familiar warmth burned within.

He looked to the homestead and saw Sibyl breaking words with Laeta.

"She is still not well?" Agron asked.

Gannicus shook his head. "No. It worries."

"Nasir means to check on her progress. I will offer gentle reminder."

Month Two

Two more weeks passed and still there was little change. Gannicus noted that his wife found it difficult to keep her eyes open during the day and took to bed whenever able. Laeta offered help with the children and although Sibyl made attempt to refuse aid, she knew it was futile. Illness would not leave her and it made it impossible to attend normal duties.

Despite cloud of illness, mood remained a positive force. While she smiled often, Sibyl was always earnest when it came to their family. The little frown that wrinkled her forehead, the way her eyes softened when she listened intently as Kore or Oenamaus babbled on, having a conversation with their son as if it made all the sense in the world.

His discomfort increased. Thought of losing her to illness – as so many others had lost friends and lovers – sent thoughts into chaos. He recognised attempt she made to be stronger than she felt, but saw right through her. She struggled to keep food in belly and her body was tender to the touch.

"We should venture into town. A more experienced medicus might recommend alternative-"

Already she shook her head, placing a soothing hand upon his chest. His arms automatically went around her, pulling her close and loosely linking his hands at the base of her spine. She tucked her head into his chest, tired.

"Sibyl-"

"I feel stronger with each passing day."

"And yet every alternative sees you back at previous place."

"Pace of recovery is slow. But I feel better today. I might take the children to pick flowers in the fields."

"What of tomorrow?" he asked, pulling away and forcing her to look at him. "I admit to concern. Kore and Oenamaus have both recovered. Half the village have recovered. And yet your affliction persists."

She reached up and placed a gentling kiss upon his mouth, soft, fleeting, like the gentle flap of a butterfly's wings. "Nasir has promised that he would take me into the next city himself if I do not feel better soon."

"I will not wait much longer," Gannicus cautioned. He tightened his grip, mindful that her body was tender. "I cannot lose you," he said softly, placing his forehead to hers.

"Gentle reminder, husband," she lifted her hand and gently stroked it down the side of his face, his beard scratching the tips of her fingers. "We have endured and survived more than this illness. That will pass."

He sighed heavily, bending to her will. There was a knock at the door and Agron appeared. "Apologies. I did not mean to disturb." His grin said otherwise. "But we are required at the training grounds."

Gannicus rolled his eyes and took his time, placing a searing kiss on his wife's lips before stepping back.

"Do not strain self overmuch," he cautioned, his eyes worried.

"I promise. Have a good day." To Agron she said, "I would be grateful if you would keep my husband's mind occupied. He frets over nothing."

"You have my word," he said. "Although, I do agree that it is not nothing."

She scowled and watched them leave.

Gannicus felt spirit soar as bird amidst full flight. His sword clashed with Agron's, the sound of steel ringing throughout the training ground. After he had settled and wounds had healed, he had heeded Sibyl's advice and began a training school. Those from their own village had joined ranks, but soon others from neighbouring farms, estates and villages would travel to join in weekly or monthly practice.

It was a way to maintain fitness, prowess and skill. But it was also a way to ensure that should threat of Rome ever loom over them, that they would stand ready. A few miles from the village on the outskirts of a forest, ground was cleared and rudimentary stables were constructed. With Agron as his second, they trained men and women in the art of swordplay, accuracy with bow and arrow, close hand to hand combat, wielding knives and even use of the retiarius to those who showed a talent for it. Training meant that earnest contest was hardly ever experienced - except when Gannicus and Agron took to the sands.

The brothers would often make display for their students. But both admitted to selves that it was also a way to feel the thrill of imagined battle, the challenge of facing skilled opponent and opportunity to use skill and mind to outwit challenger. Both he and Agron also suffered wounds to their wrists from crucifixion. As such, both felt equal match for the other, taking suffered handicap into consideration.

It had taken Gannicus almost two years to stop wearing his bandolier with his swords upon back. Sibyl had encouraged it, but it had not been an easy compromise. He still carried daggers. More than one. It was a thing he knew would never change. Especially with a family to ensure safety of.

Time drew near for annual gladiatorial games in honour of Spartacus and their fallen comrades. Wooden swords and spears were retrieved and prepared, makeshift arena primed upon the training grounds, stands for seating constructed for eager spectators.

"Gannicus!" he heard his name called and used his leg as a hook, tripping Agron and sending him sprawling into the dust.

"Jupiter fuck me," Agron muttered when his breath returned to him. Gannicus laughed, turning to see who had given name voice. It was Agron's adopted son, Gratianus.

"Your son provides opportunity to see you upon back." Gannicus chuckled.

Agron raised self from floor, breathing heavily and nodded to the boy. "Speak."

"Nasir asked that I bring word. Sibyl-"

Gannicus stepped forward. "What of her?"

"She lost consciousness earlier. Laeta found her upon floor in your homestead-"

Gannicus had dropped his sword and was already running. Gratianus's voice rang out behind him. "Nasir is tending her. She is well!" he called.

"Agron's hand touched his shoulder. "When bringing a man bad tidings, it is suggestion that you start with fact that all is well before mentioning unhappy circumstance." The boy hung his head. "Never mind. What happened?"

"She felt faint. Laeta had happened upon her. She is well now. In fact, cause of illness is uncovered."

Agron frowned. "Let next words assure it is not fucking serious affliction?"

The boy just smiled and Agron clapped him upon the shoulder with affection, making way toward the village.

"There was no need to call Gannicus to heel," Sibyl insisted. "I am fine and he was due home shortly."

Nasir swept Oenamaus's hair from his forehead, watching a moment as the infant slept soundly on his pallet. Kore shuffled a little, but settled too. Both were fast asleep, arms similarly flung outwards. Sibyl moved from their room, entering the large living space.

"Do you wish to see my head parted from body?" she rolled her eyes at Nasir's tone. He had followed her. "It is fact known that your husband would have me skinned and quartered should I fail to inform of any danger to you or the children."

"There is no danger," Sibyl sighed.

"We know that now. We did not know it then."

"Knowledge alone makes me feel… better."

"I have read texts that theorise on the power of thought. Just knowing what ails you might alleviate symptoms. Not knowing might make you feel worse." Nasir collected his things. "I will pay you proper visit in the morning. Right now, I leave you to break words with your husband. It cannot be long before he appears."

"Gratitude, for everything. You have become valuable medicus."

"Agron thinks it is my true calling. I am inclined to agree." Nasir winked. "Blessings continue to rain upon your family."

"Enjoy balmy evening. And thank Laeta for providing Kore and Oenamaus with evening meal."

When Gannicus crashed into his home, the first thing he saw was his wife putting a finger to her lips, signalling towards the children's room. Both slept soundly and would continue to do so until morning.

He strode to her side, pulling her gently towards their bedroom. Placing distance between them and their sleeping children, Gannicus demanded, "You fell to ground? Gratianus brought word from Nasir."

"Gannicus," she gentled him. He could not understand the grin across her face. His frown deepened. "I am well."

"Cause of what ails you has been determined?"

She inclined her head. "In a manner, yes. Gannicus, come. Sit with me."

"Sibyl," he cautioned.

She settled him beside her upon their bed, their knees touching as they angled towards each other. She reached for his hands and he linked their fingers, bringing it towards his lips. In his eyes, she saw his fear and her happiness dimmed for a moment. Life was truly not worth living if either were not alongside.

"What is it?" he whispered.

"I was ill. I had contracted what Oenamaus and Kore had – what the village had. But I had recovered weeks ago."

"How is that possible? You remained upon bed, absent strength, you were-"

"I am," she interrupted, "unable to hold nourishment within and find myself needing to use the outhouse with most unwelcome frequency. My body is tender," her voice dropped and she met his eyes, "my breasts feel larger, heavier and are sensitive, sometimes sore to touch."

He nodded, grim, this he had noticed. Her eyes were dancing with a light he did not understand.

"I cannot believe I have not discerned cause myself. Gannicus," she said, exasperated. "Have you not guessed?"

The frown upon his brow now travelled from temple to temple, so deep were the grooves. She reached over and placed her lips to the puckered flesh, bringing their still linked fingers to her belly, spreading his across her abdomen.

His eyes met hers and then darted to her midsection, then back again. She saw him swallow twice. A slow smile began its joyous journey, spreading from his eyes to his lips, stretching so tightly, his cheeks hurt.

"I am with child. Hopefully this time," she said wryly, "the gods will bless us with one at a time."

Month Three

A week or two later, the side effects of the first months of pregnancy had begun to abate. Sibyl began to experience a general feeling of contentment and wellbeing. Nausea had all but disappeared and the fatigue began to recede, giving way to boundless energy.

Each night after their children were bathed, Gannicus would sit upon their bed, propped up by pillows, a babe in each arm - Kore more often climbing across his chest – and he would tell them a tale to settle and sooth, readying mind for peaceful slumber.

While Oenamaus lay across his father's chest, his eyes resting keenly upon Gannicus's face, Kore made attempt at own conversation, providing own responses to his explanations.

"It was in Sinuesa that I met your mother," he said.

"Ma ma ma," the end of the word always seemed to lilt upwards, as if she asked a question.

"Yes," he said. "Your mother. She prayed to the Gods that I be sent to her."

"Ma ma." Oenamaus pointed. Sibyl, who had been bathing herself, entered their room at that moment, combing wet hair with her fingers.

"Will this tale ever be told with proper intent?"

"Did you not pray for me?"

"I prayed to be liberated."

"So any other would have done?"

"Never." She pressed her lips to his for a quick kiss. Her son moved from his father and clambered to the end of the bed, raising his arms for her. She picked him up, swaying gently as she hugged him close. Already his eyes drooped as he settled close to her chest.

"Sit," Gannicus said. "He grows heavier with each passing day."

"It is alright. They grow so independent. It is nice to feel needed." He wiggled closer, his little hand dipping into the neckline of her dress, resting in the hollow between her breasts. It was nightly ritual. She believed he liked to feel close to her.

"Come, sit." Sibyl rolled her eyes. Since news of her condition, Gannicus treated her with greater care – if such a thing were possible. He moved over, cradling a drowsy Kore in his arms as she settled Oenamaus between them.

Gannicus eyed where his son's hand rested and raised his brow. "Like his father," she said with a smile.

He shifted, freeing his hand and resting it lightly across her barely curved belly.

"Do you wish for another daughter? Or a son?" she asked, her hand resting across his as he rubbed gently.

"I have no preference." He thought for a moment. "Or perhaps… a son."

Sibyl laughed, already sure she knew reason. "Kore stands a challenge?"

"She stands too much like me. I fear what life would be like when she comes of age. Already she throws self at Agron and Nasir, preferring their company to Laeta, Diana or any other women – beside her mother."

"She favours her father much more."

"Precisely." He winced. "My sins come back to haunt me."

"You do not fool me," she whispered, the deep, peaceful breathing of the twins the only sound in the room. "It pleases that she is so much like you."

"Perhaps." He chuckled. "A little."

A/N: I've always been a little obsessed with the idea of Gannicus as a father. Seeing as he missed Sibyl's first pregnancy, I thought it might be fun to have a look at Gannicus-the-family-man.

Set after Not Alone.