Summary: Pullo looks back on his relationship over the years with his commanding officer, Lucius Vorenus
Warning: character death mentioned and strong language
Comments & Reviews: positive comments welcomed
Disclaimer: everything you recognize belong to HBO, only seen entirely from Pullo's perspective.

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Fraternitas

Part I

Pullo's point of view:

When we first met, there was hate. Maybe not on my part, but definately on his. You could say we got off on the wrong foot, I suppose, and looking back, I probably was to blame.

I freely admit - hand on heart - I've always been an arrogant, rebellious bastard who has a knack of finding trouble. It doesn't help that I'm also headstrong and foolhardy, with a reputation for being a bit of a thug. Well, I've always enjoyed a good scrap, it's in my nature to fight ... proves I'm still alive, and considering I was a legionnaire, a veteran of Caesar's famed Thirteenth legion, that could only be a good thing. But, in my favour, it has been said many a time, that I have a good heart and when it comes to my friends - the people I love and care for - I am loyal to the death ...

When I think about it, pissing off my new commanding officer probably wasn't the brightest thing to do. We were as alike as darkness is to light. He was the ice to my fire, and we had nothing in common - or so we both thought ...

His name was Lucius Vorenus and he was a First-Spear Centurion of the Thirteenth legion.

He might not have said outright that he loathed me, but it was there for all to see in his cold, blue eyes. My wilfully disobedient breaking of rank during the battle in Gaul, led to a public flogging. To be fair to the man, he did not shirk off the responsibilities of command, as many officers did ... oh, no, Vorenus dealt me the whip's lashes personally and he did not spare me either. I still have the scars on my back to prove it. For that alone, I respected him.

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After Gaul, came the business of Caesar's missing army standard, which Vorenus and I successfully recaptured, and to our astonishment, we found that we made a formidable team. I've said before that I'm a rebel, that I tend to act first and think later. Vorenus was my opposite. He was an honourable, pragmatic and highly intelligent man and a brilliant tactician. In other words, he was the brain, while I ... I merely provide the brawn.

Unlike me, Vorenus had a family; a beautiful wife, Niobe, two lovely daughters and a fine grandson. Me ? I have no kin yet, but I love women and the pleasures of the flesh with a raging passion. Even if I say so myself, there is nothing I do not know about pleasuring and keeping a woman satisfied in bed - having her writhing in ecstasy beneath me and screaming my name in total rapture - or, if there is, it has not been discovered yet !

But over the coming months, after yours truly recovered the State Treasury's stolen gold - for which I was handsomely rewarded by Caesar himself, no less - I made a not so pleasant discovery. The young boy Vorenus believed to be his grandson, was not of his bloodline, but that of his wife and her brother-in-law.
Now, I'd come to respect and like Vorenus, despite his aloofness and his rigid demeanour, he certainly didn't deserve such a grave injury to his status. The man truly loved his wife and was faithful to her. The discovery of Niobe's infidelity would bode ill for them all. With Gaius Octavian's wise counsel and aid, I, personally, eradicated the problem of the child's biological father, Evander.

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After that came our posting in Egypt, where we mixed with royalty, no less ... Compared to his feelings at the start, Vorenus' attitude had thawed considerably towards me. No longer hated, I was tolerated and was determined he would end up liking me. Although his manner had mellowed, his feelings on fidelity were as strong as ever - and he declined to share Cleopatra's Royal bed. I, on the other hand, had no such scruples and made sure Vorenus heard about it, as often as possible - much to his disgust.

Vorenus returned to Rome a hero. As he was a shrewd, wise, reliable and loyal man, Caesar persuaded him to run for political office, and with Niobe's support, he accepted the post.

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I returned from Egypt with no purpose, having left the Thirteenth. There was a pretty, young slave girl, Eirene, I wished to marry and start a family with. Vorenus agreed to free her. Little did I know that whilst we had been in Egypt, Eirene had become involved with another slave, and in a fit of jealousy and madness I killed him. Gutted him in front of her ... and Vorenus' children.

At that moment, my good fortune ran out and I lost everything. The woman I'd come to love, my home and the trust, respect and growing friendship of the one man I valued the most, Lucius Vorenus. Lost and alone - no longer a soldier, I didn't have battles to vent my aggression - I drifted into a life of crime. My corrupt, lawless behaviour soon caught up with me and I was found guilty of murder. I was condemned to almost certain death in the arena, as a gladiator.

I'd finally lost all hope and gave up. I remember sitting on the dirty, sand-covered arena floor, dejected and apathetic, ignoring the gladiators who were standing completely at a loss because I refused to fight them. That was until one of them made a fatal mistake. He began to mock my greatest passion - the one thing that had meant more than anything in my whole sorry excuse of a bloody life - the Thirteenth.

There's two things in life I've excelled at, and that's brawling and defending myself. But once you've been in the Legion and become a veteran of a great many battles over the years, you learn a lot about discipline, control and how to vastly improve your fighting skills and techniques. I was no exception. In defence of the honour of my beloved Thirteenth Legion, I slaughtered the men sent to dispose of me, leaving a trail of bloody carnage and hacked off limbs in my wake, which had the crowd baying for more.

I was knackered and hadn't been left unscathed. When a one-eyed, undefeated German gladiator entered the arena, it seemed that I'd finally lost favour with the gods and I was fated to die at this man's hands ... As the German prepared to make the final, killing blow, I was unexpectedly saved from death.

Unknown to me, Vorenus had been there, watching my final moments. I didn't witness the huge internal conflict he'd struggled with - whether to leave me to die as the gods decreed or to remain loyal to the Thirteenth. In the end loyalty, devotion and comradeship had won. At great cost to himself, Vorenus entered the arena and the rest as they say, is history ...

T. B. C.