Guilty Feelings
Part One: Nasir
Nasir awoke, but had only slept because his body betrayed him. He wanted no rest. He knew that if he fell asleep, the nightmare from the previous night would visit him again. And as he predicted, it did. He awakened with the image still burned in his brain...the image of Agron lying on the ground, his life slowly flowing from his veins...his heart beating slower by the second until it finally beat no more. Agron told him before they parted that his heart would never beat for another, and now it would beat for no one. Nasir knew who to blame. An agony of guilt had laid its mark on the man. Nasir no longer wished for the comfort of sleep, nor food, drink, or companionship. He was only half alive. The half of him that celebrated living was now as cold as Agron's body surely was.
One of the things that disturbed Nasir's thoughts the most was that he hadn't fought harder to keep Agron from leaving, or at least to convince the stubborn German that he should take his lover with him when he departed to join Crixus. Agron made it clear he didn't want Nasir to go with him, and Nasir had no desire to make Agron feel responsible for him, as he surely would. His mind should only be on the upcoming battle. Nasir didn't fight Agron because that was exactly what he feared...that in some way, his presence would prevent Agron from being his best while fighting. But what difference did it make now? Nasir didn't go with Agron, and now the man lay dead anyway. Maybe, just maybe he would have avoided the blow that killed him if Nasir had been there watching his back...or so Nasir kept telling himself.
The other thing that was eating away at Nasir's mind was the feeling that Agron only left to join Crixus because of Nasir himself...not because he wanted to do battle beside Crixus. It was true he felt most comfortable on the battlefield, but that didn't take into account the many nights they lay together after heated passion overtook them, and they were sated and then spent the calming hours in the afterglow talking about their future. Agron had shown no hesitation at settling down somewhere and making a life with Nasir then. They hadn't talked specifics, but warfare was never mentioned either. That seemed to make a lie of Agron's excuse for leaving...that he was no tiller of land or herder of sheep, or that the only place for him was on a battlefield. Sadly, Nasir felt he knew the real truth behind Agron's choice.
Nasir was flattered by the attentions paid him by Castus, the sexy Silician pirate who ended up a part of the rebellion when he was abandoned by his own people after they betrayed Spartacus. Flattered, yes, but that was all. He had no real desire for the man. Nasir knew that if Agron had never been a part of his life, he certainly would have been willing to give a relationship with Castus a fair trial. However, Agron was in his life. Nasir knew without a doubt that his heart only beat for the tempermental German. When Castus flattered him, Nasir was amused, but he felt nothing else. When Agron simply looked in his direction or gave him a brief smile from across a room, Nasir's heart beat faster...his body warmed from head to toe...his manhood stirred. Nasir never felt anything like that with Castus, or any other man.
Knowing this in the very core of his being did not mean that Agron also knew it. After Agron left and Nasir spent that first night alone in their tent, he reflected back on all the smiles he threw Castus's way. They were smiles of amusement, but now he suspected Agron saw them differently. If that was true, and Agron left because he believed that Nasir favored the pirate a bit too much, then Nasir knew it was his fault that his lover turned from him. If Agron hadn't, he would still be among the living. The thought tore at Nasir again. That was all he had left...his guilt and his pain. He felt no hunger or thirst...just this gaping hole where his heart once rested.
As Nasir stood in his tent...the one he shared with Agron...he let himself get lost in memories of all the nights he was enfolded in Agron's arms on that very bed. Images of Agron taking possession of him, bringing him to heights of glory that even the gods could not reach, flashed in his head. Kisses that stole his breath away and seared his flesh were recalled in vivid detail, making Nasir's skin warm with longing. At that moment he would have gladly given his life too for just one more night pressed body to body with Agron...to hear his brave warrior call his name as he spilled his pleasure inside him. He was so immersed in his thoughts that he didn't notice when the flap of his tent was opened.
"Nasir? Apologies for disturbing you. I wish not to add to burden of grief, but help is needed and you are most skilled to lend aid."
Nasir turned to see Spartacus standing in his doorway. If he had been more aware of his surroundings, he would have seen the worry on Spartacus's face. He did not know that both Spartacus and Gannicus had discussed their concerns over Nasir's reaction to news of Agron. Neither of them wanted to invade his privacy, but they knew he would only make himself sick if he did not find a purpose to live again, and quickly. They left him alone for a day and a half, but they decided it was now time to intervene. It would not lessen Nasir's suffering, but it was a start. And their cause was just. Nasir had become one of their best warriors. He took to weaponry training as a babe does to its mother's teats...it came natural to him. Not only was he skilled with weapons, but he was even more skilled in teaching the art to others. This, the two leaders decided, was the key to restoring Nasir's spirit, even if only a tiny bit.
In a voice half as strong as his usual, Nasir answered, "What aid I can give is yours. I'm of no use with only thoughts for company. Break words and your will is done."
"I would have you bring to bear your skills in training new recuits. They are as you once stood...eager, but untried. If they are to live, they must have examples worth following. If not, they will be but fodder for Roman blades."
Normally Nasir would have felt proud to hear such words from Spartacus, a man he respected above all others save for Agron, but they fell flat on his ear now. He knew that Spartacus did not just flatter him, but it was only a deep sense of duty, and to honor Agron, that he would do as asked. All he really wanted to do was remain in the tent that he shared with Agron and live through his memories of happier times. He knew, however, that Agron would not approve, so he gathered up his things and left with Spartacus. Shortly after, he was joined at the training grounds by a small group of young men ready to learn whatever they could while they were still able.
The day moved forward, yet time meant little to Nasir. He went through the motions, but his patience was short. Even the smallest mistake by a novice was enough to make him lose his temper. Those that knew of his grief kept a wide berth. None wished to challenge him...not until Castus sought him out and saw what was happening. When Nasir lashed out at one unfortunate student for a minor error, blowing his mistake way out of proportion, Castus stepped in to try and keep things from escalating. His attempts to calm Nasir was like tossing a torch on pitch-laden kindling. Nasir's pent up self-loathing erupted. He spewed out accusatory words on the hapless Silician. He then lost complete control when Castus tried to offer sympathy with gentle words and a touch. Nasir struck out, blaming Castus for wanting him and himself for responding at all.
Castus sensed the pain that Nasir was in. He was struck several times across the face, but did not defend himself. When the last blow was launched, he moved to avoid it, throwing Nasir off balance. The young Syrian fell back into Castus's arms, tears of anger and regret filling his eyes and staining his cheeks. As Castus helped Nasir to rise again, the two men heard a loud commotion nearby. Bitter feelings were set aside as they rushed to see what was happening. They were greeted by the sight of Spartacus, Gannicus, and many others returning to camp with Roman prisoners in tow. With Agron gone, Nasir was not privy to the plans of their leaders. This was indeed a surprise and a coup.
Nasir's blood ran hot with the thirst for vengeance, as did so many others. Spartacus moved to calm the angry crowd. Nasir returned to his tent, shaken by the degree of anger built up inside him. His eyes circled the tent, the very place that he had last lain with Agron. They fell upon pieces of Agron left behind...a cup he drank from, a bowl he supped from, an extra pair of footwear too worn to take on his final campaign. When his eyes fell on the bedding that still carried Agron's scent, he could no longer stand. He dropped to his knees, gathering the furs in his hands and bringing them to his face. He wanted to shout to the heavens...to make Agron hear his regrets at letting him go, but no sound escaped his throat, save the low moan of a man in pain.
There is no telling how long Nasir would have remained in this position, with his dark thoughts, if not for a message delivered from Spartacus. Nasir gathered himself together and hurried to the main tent. There he found Spartacus with Naevia and many others, all former gladiators. The news was more than welcome. Spartacus was putting on gladiator games for the entertainment of the rebels, and the opponents would be the captured soldiers, including the son of Crassus. He asked for volunteers. Nasir quickly raised his voice. With the blood he would spill upon the sand, he hoped to bring honor to Agron's name and memory. He knew it would not release him of the guilt that scarred his heart, but if he fell to his opponent he would join Agron in the afterlife, and if not he would have his retribution.
And so it came to pass. For the first time, Nasir understood what Agron felt when he told his stories of the glories of the games when besting an opponent and walking away with the sound of thunderous applause ringing in the victor's ears. And yet for Nasir, the sound was hollow. With Agron gone forever from his side, Nasir felt only an emptiness as he walked away after defeating his opponent. He was grateful that he had honored Agron as promised, but it was not enough...not nearly enough. He doubted anything ever would be.
Part Two: Agron
The first day that dawned with Agron's captivity was filled with enormous pain. His captors were brutal in their treatment, removing one rebel after another from the yard where they were kept before being taken for interrogations. They were given no food or water and often pissed on if they asked for some. Agron had no intention of giving them the satisfaction, saying and asking for nothing. That changed when he was dragged away for his first time to be questioned. It was obvious the soldiers did not know of his importance or closeness to Spartacus. However, they soon learned of his feelings towards them. One stream of invectives after another poured from Agron's swollen lips. Each time he was punched in the face, the curses grew more colorful. After a while, he was returned to the post that he was tied to so that another could take his place once it was clear that he wasn't going to be forthcoming with information.
It was during these brief hours of respite from torture that Agron felt his mind leave his broken body and journey back to where he longed to be. Despite the pain he was in, he pictured himself standing next to Nasir, joking about some nonsense one of the new recruits would pull. Other moments he felt as though he were lying next to Nasir in their tent, wrapped tightly in each other's arms as they fell into heavy slumber. In every fantasy that he conjured, Nasir was smiling at him with that sweet face that always made Agron's heart fill to bursting. Then, like a black cloud descending over his brain, the picture in his head would change. Although it would still be Nasir's face he saw, the look was always different. He would see the hurt look that Nasir gave him just before turning away moments before Agron joined Crixus for the march towards Rome.
The love they made during that final night could not wash away the pained look that Nasir gave him that morning. Agron had only meant to spare Nasir. He truly believed that Nasir would be safer, and maybe even better off, if they separated. He told himself that he would survive the coming battle and return to Nasir, but he didn't really believe it himself. That was why he didn't want Nasir to join him. And now he was in agony. He had not been granted a swift and honorable death on the battlefied so that he could wait in the afterlife for Nasir to join him many years later. As he waited for his next interrogation, he had an epiphany. He hadn't saved Nasir from anything. He knew how much his 'little man' loved him and yet he had condemned Nasir to a life thinking that Agron did not want him when it counted most. Now it was too late to tell Nasir he had been a fool. Nasir would never know, because Agron was aware he would not draw breath much longer. He would not betray Spartacus and that would earn him only one result.
Later that day, Agron discovered how right he was. He eventually passed out, but had no idea for how long. He was suddenly awakened again when a soldier tossed a bucket of freezing cold fluid, smelling of piss, over him to bring him around. This time was different, however, when he saw Crassus and Caesar approaching him. His identity was finally revealed by Caesar. This led Crassus to order him crucified to soften him up enough to make him reveal what they wanted, if only to stop the suffering. It didn't work.
Agron did suffer agonizing pain when Caesar drove spikes into his hands instead of the wrists, as was normally done, in order to torment him with knowledge that he would never have the ability to wield a weapon again. Time became an instant blur after that. He had no idea how long he hung with his legs uselessly dangling down, before he found himself suddenly back on the earth again. All he knew was that he was now amongst his fellow captives once more and they were being untied and rounded up. Some of the less injured were doing their best to help those less fortunate, including Agron. Clothing had been stripped from the dead to make bandages. Agron was already covered with several of them before he regained consciousness. Food, barely fit for dogs, was handed out along with buckets of dirty water to drink. Little by little, word spread that they were being released in an exchange of prisoners. The full weight of that finally dawned on Agron.
He realized that Spartacus had somehow managed to capture someone of importance, someone worth trading the lives of so many defeated rebels...most of whom, including Agron, were no longer fit to fight the Romans again. As his situation became clear to Agron, he felt something he had never felt before in his entire life. He had known fear in the past but not like this. He felt a fear that tore at his guts. It was two-fold. First, he feared that he was now a useless man...of no value to anyone. He couldn't even hold his bowl of slop or cup of water without dropping them. The weight of his sword would be an impossible task. But this wasn't his only fear.
Agron's greatest fear was that Nasir would not welcome the sight of him returning. In most eyes, he had turned his back on Nasir. For all he knew, Nasir had already found comfort, after his rejection, with the fucking Silician. When he returned, Agron feared he had no right to make a claim on Nasir's heart any longer. Agron also knew that if Nasir no longer wanted him, he would not be able to remain nearby watching Nasir with another. Agron had lost everything that mattered to him. Without the ability to fight or be a part of Nasir's life, Agron felt adrift. As he joined the march back to Spartacus's encampment, he felt no joy...only guilt and regret.
Part Three: Reunion
News that Spartacus had brokered an exchange with the son of Crassus versus five hundred of the captured warriors who had followed Crixus spread like wildfire throughout the rebel encampment. Hearts that already felt a sense of satisfaction when the captured Roman soldiers met their deaths in the temporary arena set up by Spartacus, now felt pure joy at the thought that they might be reunited with friends and family they thought lost forever. Their joy was briefly threatened when Kore, Crassus's former slave, killed Tiberius, son of Crassus...then renewed when she offered herself for the exchange. When Caesar agreed to the terms and ordered the prisoners released, there was a mixture of anxiety and excitement pulsating throughout the camp. All but two felt it.
Naevia and Nasir knew they would have nothing to rejoice over. Their men were already waiting for them in the afterlife. It was for that reason that they stood off to the side of all those gathered to watch the return of their people some time later, as the sun faded from view. Nasir's tender heart wished to feel joy at what was happening, but it ached too much for such feeling.
"Would that those we held to heart stood among them," he spoke mournfully to Naevia, standing beside him.
He did not notice the approach of Castus behind him, but was distracted from the tableau before him when his name was called. He briefly turned towards Castus, but saw that the man wasn't looking at him at all. He was looking into the ragtag group approaching the camp. Nasir's eyes followed Castus's gaze. It only took a single second for his own eyes to fall upon what had caught the Silician's attention. The head was bent and he needed help to walk, but Nasir knew the man instantly. Agron moved slowly, being helped by Spartacus himself. Nasir's reaction was immediate. His instincts drew him forward into the crowd, parting people hurriedly so that he could reach the man he thought lost to him forever.
Agron moved as an old man long in years. All parts of his body hurt. He welcomed the support of Spartacus's firm shoulder to lean on, but said little to his friend as he shuffled along. He kept his eyes to the ground, fearing that if he looked up he would see Nasir standing with Castus and ignoring his passing by. He did not know where Spartacus was leading him, and he did not care. But suddenly his progress was halted. He was blocked by a figure appearing directly in front of him. He saw instantly the leggings so familiar to him. His eyes lifted and he saw much more than that. He saw Nasir's worried face.
Nasir's breath caught in his throat as Agron looked up at him. He saw the pain that shadowed Agron's eyes. He saw the marks of abuse he had suffered, making Nasir's heart cry out. Agron said nothing, but Nasir saw what he needed to. There was that same longing look of love still present in Agron's eyes that he always had when they were together. It was all Nasir wanted. He laid his hand gently alongside Agron's battered face.
"The gods return you to my arms," he declared firmly.
The heavy weight that burdened Agron's heart lifted instantly. He knew that what Nasir said was truth. Nasir's arms, his being, his very heart still belonged to Agron. It was time to confess his mistake.
"I was fool to ever leave them," he admitted.
Spartacus remained silent during their exchange and now stepped aside so that Agron could lean on Nasir.
"I was fool to let you...yet gods favor fools this time. Come, my hands will deliver your care until you are whole again."
The reunited lovers moved on. Nasir knew nothing of the extent of Agron's injuries, but he did know his German warrior. Loving care would make him well and he would stand tall and proud as he always had. They would not need a dissection of their feelings of guilt over the separation. It had dissipated like fog when the sun rises high in the sky. Those simple words to one another shed the pain of their separation the moment they were spoken. All that mattered...all that would ever matter was that they were as one again. It was as it should be and as it always would be from that day forward.
The End
