Title: Hope
Rating: T
Notes: originally written for the livejournal community spartacus2010's first comment ficfest. Prompt: Man I used to be.
Summary: Set after season 1. He smiled. It was done.
OOOOO
It is done.
The slaves cheer at my words, and set course to freedom. I remain behind for an instant, my feet still close to the man who started everything. Now he breathes no more, and the woman he loved will soon follow the same path. He thought the Thracian had been left behind. So did I when I slew those men in the arena, dressed like a Roman, giving Capua my offering in blood. Batiatus had smiled, proud of his achievement made flesh at last. When I entered this house I was a fool, selfish man wearing a blindfold. The man who I called Dominus forged me. Or so he thought.
Or so I thought during many months.
But the Thracian had not been forsaken. Not anymore. I was not alone, never alone. Fate forced me to rise above myself, despite my initial blindness, and now I see that the strength that steered me towards this moment, taking the blindfold away, was breathed into me by those I found in a path full of joy and pain. My wife; a friend among enemies; a woman whose love I cannot return.
'It is done,' I said.
'It is done,' I think as I slowly walk, following those who I now call brothers and sisters. Once outside I stop, and look behind me, letting a long deep breath fill my chest before I resume my pace, and the cage that held me and the birds that ruled it lay still and silent, fading with the growing distance. Blood and goo cover my skin, reminding me of the many lives lost. Some deserved, others maybe not. Life is not fair, I have accepted that; excruciating memories remind me of that every passing day.
Sura told me, and now I know she was right. It all makes sense. All that I have lost, leading to this moment. To be reborn, knowing my path, with a name given by the Romans.
My name, the way she called me. It died the day she took her last breath in my embrace, her battered body defying death until she could rest in my arms. One day, Sura. One day we will be reunited, but this time I will choose when and how. It will not be a Roman, nor a barbarian horde. Not even the gods. And as I reach my brothers I swear to myself that it will not happen until we have made Rome shake under its rotten foundations, like I promised we would do. Rome will learn of us, and will fear those they once abused for play, service and pleasure.
Agron looks behind and sees me. He lost his brother, yet he smiles with hope. Mira joins him. Fear no longer carves her face. While I search for Aurelia, hoping she has found some peace tonight, my eyes find Crixus, walking silent by Oenomaus' side, his hand still closed around his sword, and mind surely set on Naevia.
Dozens of slaves walk with them. Confused, scared. But free. Free.
"I am no longer the man I used to be when I entered those gates, Sura." I look at the sky and the stars that blanket us in this crucial night, and I smile. "I think you would be proud."
Fin.