Author's Note

This story fleshes out what was a particularly emotionally charged scene in and episode of a show that I had assumed was going to be a pure fun, gratuitously violent and satisfying guilty pleasure for me. It had me pondering what was going through the character's heads as they, um... ahem, ::cough-didit-cough::

It is my hope to continue the story between them, switching points of view, but deviating slightly from the next few episodes' plot lines in order to focus more on this pair.

Definitions:
Ludus = Gladiator School
Lanista = Gladiator School Owner
Doctore = Head Trainer
Dominus = Master
Domina = Mistress

Melitta & Gannicus during their shared exhibitionism in S:GotA, S1E3: 'Missio'.

Melitta POV

From my place slightly behind and to the left of my Domina on the balcony overlooking the Ludus' yard, I could see the men practicing. Domina, Dominus, and Gaia were tempting our clearly tired visitor, Quintillius, with the sights and sounds of our Gladiators. I knew that much hung in the balance of power between Quintillius and Dominus but could effect the situation no further in my limited role. My place was always slightly behind and to the left of Domina – available for her every whim and frequently those of her honored guests.

Not that I would complain. What slave woman would? For that matter, what free woman would? My Domina was mostly pleasant, my Dominus never beat or mistreated me. The work I was required to do, nay - born into doing, was manageable and I had food to eat and a roof over my head. But most of all, I mused as I glanced down at the sands below, I was permitted to stay near Oenomaus, my beloved husband. Rare blessings indeed for a slave woman.

My Oenomaus. I allowed myself a moment of observation – risky when we had guests. Domina naturally insisted we be most diligent to the needs of our visitors while they were here but it was a rare woman indeed who could not look upon Oenomaus and find cause for a moment of scrutiny.

His tall black-as-night form glistened in the hot evening sun. How I love him, my serious thoughtful husband. My heart fluttered as my eyes took in his practice swings and motions. Not even a small part of him is wasteful. I remember, during his recovery from the terrifying fight with Theokoles, he strove for perfection of movement to avoid unnecessary delays in the healing process. His desire to rejoin his brothers in the ring and win enough coin to buy our freedom is matched only by my desire to see him alive, well, safe, and by my side. He swings his sword with such force it was a wonder he didn't cleave the arm from his opponent. Who can he be fighting that withstands his unrelenting onslaught of frustration at his Dominus-dictated period of rest? I ponder as I watch the men below.

Oh, of course. It is Gannicus – that ridiculous cur. The best friend of my husband and if I'm being honest with myself, a dear friend to me. I smile fondly, if somewhat wryly as he baits Oenomaus, teasing my husband to pursue him around the practice-dummy.

Gannicus is never serious. His gaiety, I must admit, is contagious. The newly titled Champion of the Ludus of Batiatus is ever pleased with himself. In Oenomaus' absence, he has made quite a name for himself. The big Celt giant moves with a certain grace and skill, I must admit. He'd have to, to be a worthy sparring partner for my husband. He is light of skin, fair of hair, and his strength is clearly visible even from all the way up here. He is a natural crowd favorite. Always jovial, quick to spare a losing gladiator, easy to smile, to make light of the dangerous situation that we slaves find ourselves in. I watch the two of them fighting a moment more before my attention is abruptly brought back to Dominus.

As our honored guest leaves the portcullis in favor of the cool interior chambers near the pool, Dominus has caught up Gaia by her arm – gripping her tightly he curses at her for an unsuccessful attempt at maneuvering Quintillius into choosing from amongst his Gladiators for the opening of the city of Capua's newest arena. He covets one of the spots in the Primus, the most anticipated (and usually fought last) battle of the games.

Gaia narrows her eyes and glares back at him with no hint of appropriate docility. She may require more maintenance that we slaves are used to but I must admit that I admire her grit.

"Quintillius is a man of specific desires... brought forth by food and certain drink," she hisses under her breath, giving Dominus a scornful look, "have your man Gannicus well cleaned and oiled then bring him up for a private viewing upon the hour."

At this, a look of understanding breaks over both Dominus and Domina. Only half a heartbeat passes before I, too, comprehend what she suggests. I'm horrified beyond belief. How can this be a way to secure the honor of the House of Batiatus? Can they really mean for Gannicus to-

My thoughts are interrupted by the signal from Dominus which means in no uncertain terms that I am to go collect Gannicus for whatever games they have decided he's to play this night. Disgust and dread crawl their way through my heart. My friend, and the brother of my husband should not be so used. No Champion of Capua, beloved and revered as he, deserves such treatment. I look to Domina to put an end to this request but summon him I must, for Domina is nodding in agreement with her husband.

Of course it must be me sent to summon him. This means I'll be the one to lead him to his shame. My heart is heavy as I walk to the gates separating the Ludus from the main house. I beckon one of the guards and relay the instructions. I am to wait by the gate in order to take him to the bath house. I hear his laugh and that of my husband, in harmony with one another until the terse:

"Gannicus! You are summoned," is shouted by the unpleasant guard.

Gannicus appears, grinning as usual and is let out of the confines of his enslavement. I can't look at his face. I know I will give away what Dominus and Gaia have planned for him if I do. Instead I turn and briskly walk towards the baths.

"What in interesting turn – usually I am rewarded with wine and women when I succeed in pleasing the master of the house – what must I have done to be forced to bathe, I wonder?" he jokes as we walk. I hear his care-free chuckle just behind me.

"Gannicus, you are ever pleased with yourself. Tonight is a night to please others," I manage choke out before we reach the bath house. I slip into the shadows before he can reply and the servants there begin the process of disrobing him.

I am no blushing maiden but tonight I can't look upon him at his bath. I take a place in the hall outside the chamber. My heart grows heavier still as I think for what purpose this luxury is afforded. Gannicus succumbs to the servants efforts. None of them make any conversation, and after a few failed attempts to tease smiles from them, Gannicus gives up and allows them to complete their tasks with a short: "Well, Jupiter's cock! You are all small of tongue tonight!"

When he is done he finds me sitting stiffly on the stone outside. I take in his appearance slowly. His light hair has been half-braided so that it falls away from his face and down to his broad shoulders. His arms, unadorned by their typical leather armor fall gracefully at his side. His broad, flat chest tapers smoothly into a well-muscled stomach; the indentations just above his hips and the towel the servants left to cover him are clearly visible. He is left without armor, clothing, or shoes. His body has been washed and then rubbed with scented oils. In the fashion of most of the Gladiator Brotherhood, the hair on his chest has been removed to better display the iron shape of his strength. His legs, like the sturdy trunk of a tree support his frame and allow for his ground-eating stride. He is an impressive sight to behold. Though I've never thought to look at him through the eyes of a woman not happily married, even I can admit that he is beautiful. None of this brings me joy this evening, though he grins at me and offers a hand to help me from my seat. I take it and he lifts me to my feet. I'm unable to utter a word as he looks questioningly at my face.

"Come," I manage to mutter.

"Melitta – what is the matter with you? You are not arguing with Oenomaus? I pray to the gods not, for I can't stand to see the two of you at odds and I despise being caught in the middle! What's he done now, hm?" he tilts my chin up with a curved forefinger from where it has fallen to my chest so that I face him once more. "No, don't tell me – it is always better this way. I must remain-"

"Gannicus, we do not fight!" I interrupt him quickly and tilt my chin out of his grasp before he's a better friend to me than I deserve. I should be warning him. I should shout it to him so that he can... what? And what exactly to tell him?

He stands a pace back at my outburst, his face surprised. I am surprised at myself. I don't recall ever having raised my voice to any of the Gladiators, much less our Champion. Why would I shout at him when all he's ever done is show me kindness?

"Come," I repeat more quietly as I turn to lead him, "Dominus is waiting."

He falls into step behind me and I can feel him at my back. I can almost hear his questions at my behavior racing through his mind. Nothing to be done now, we have arrived at the hall and Dominus is pacing in the antechamber. Beyond him, I can hear the sounds of merriment, Gaia's laugh, wine being poured into waiting cups, and Domina's pleasant conversation. I slip around the men to wait by the curtains but their words can clearly be heard since I remain on this side of them.

"Finally! The Gods themselves take less time to answer the prayers of Hades!" Dominus utters, exasperated. "Quintillius awaits! He holds the key to the Primus!" he grips Gannicus' shoulder, shaking the man as best he can though Gannicus is taller by a hand and a half at least.

"Gannicus, pleasing this man must now become your sole fucking purpose," he begins to head to the interior chamber with Gannicus walking behind him.

Confusion mounts. "Please him? In what manner-" Gannicus begins to ask.

"I have had my fill of being questioned by slaves!" Dominus rounds on Gannicus, bringing him up short. "If he wishes you to suck his cock dry, you will savor every drop, for the honor of the House of Batiatus and the chance to fight in the Primus! Are we of a singular mind!"

I can't look away. I can see his face... I can see the moment understanding breaks over his countenance. His mouth tightens, his eyes dart to the ground as his jaw hardens and his fists clench. He glances over his master's shoulder at the rooms concealed by the curtain I stand ready to open, then back to Dominus's chin then down at the floor as the realization of the order takes hold.

"Dominus." he utters in assent, his voice low. He sounds broken to me. When he raises his eyes, they meet mine. I can't imagine how I look to him but I try to offer him some illusion of pride and I glance quickly down at the floor, lowering my head in deference to him. It is the meanest of gestures, but it is all I have to give him. I open the curtain and Dominus walks in, announcing Gannicus to Quintillius, Gaia and Domina. Their Champion enters the chamber and I don't raise my eyes until the gauzy curtains have dropped behind his rigid form.

I am at a loss until Domina calls from the other side of the curtain for more wine. That is my duty this night. I must 'keep the cups full' but I'm honestly not certain I can go to her. Somehow, I muster the strength and lift both the wine jug and the curtain and enter the chamber.

TBC... Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed it!