Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I do no own Spartacus: Blood and Sand only my OCs.

This is the last chapter for the lack of pronouns. Finally I hate writing it as much as you hate reading it, its driving me nuts. So in order to put as little of the lack of pronouns parts I had to do less of Fell's pov and more of others, but after this it will have pronouns and be mostly in Fell's pov.

Fell shuttered the chants from above calling for fights. Soon so very soon it will be Fell's turn. O the beast could not wait; the beast was practically giddy with excitement. Fell twitched anxiously as footsteps approached, Fell's fingers tapping the knee rhythmically trying to maintain control at least until the match began. If Fell had a tail it would be wagging like there was no tomorrow. The light creek of the door was the signal Fell was waiting for. Instantly Fell shot to Fell's feet more than ready to proceed.

Sandro let out a dry humorless laugh, "Alright don't get over excited, you may just fuck up this fight,"

Fell let out a low growl; insulted at Sandro's words. "I meant no offence my friend," he replied hastily, backing off a step or two just in case. Though Fell and Sandro had somewhat of a friendship, and Fell would not kill a slave or ally of the Master that did not mean that Fell would not beat him to a bloody pulp or somewhere close to it. Sandro knew this, it had happened to two slaves as well as himself. It was not a pleasant experience for any of the slaves though Fell got a short lived kick out of it. Fell was banded from the fights for near a month after that little incident. Fell would not be likely to do it again but just in case it was better to stay on Fell's good side and not provoke Fell unnecessarily. The hound had limitations and it was unwise to push them, especially if Fell was in a foul mood.

"Come the arena awaits," Sandro spoke in his usual emotionless tone, his eyes flicking with excitement. He too was anxious for the fight though his voice would never reveal it. The two had an understanding of each other. Fell could read Sandro's emotions from his eyes, and Sandro could read Fell's words from Fell's posture and movements. Fell's bare feet gripped the dirt ground with every step in an attempt to contain the excitement. Sandro lead Fell to the arena the crowd's roars vibrating through Fell's body with every nearing step.

Fell stepped into the lowly lit arena the crowd acting like a bunch of wild animals, yelling, shouting, jumping up and down. Tremors ran up Fell's body shaking Fell to the very core as she approached the animalistic crowd. Sandro had left to stand by Master. Fell looked towards Master; his friend was there as well as Barca. Fell flexed irritably, Fell didn't like the idea of getting a new master. Fell liked this one and would rather not change, but if Master wished it Fell would do it; the curse of loyalty that was stained in Fell mind though Fell did not know where this loyalty came from. Fell's head shook from side to side ridding the mind of those thoughts.

Fell stood patently for the fight to begin. The man started yelling over the crowd. Fell paid no attention to the man. Half the time Fell couldn't even understand what he was saying anyway with the crowd so loud. A pot was brought over to Fell. Fell reached in pulling out something that looked like bone. Fell's fingers grazed over it, it was almost entirely smooth aside from the words carved into it. The man yelled something to the crowd and a couple of slaves handed Fell thin armor that went around the knuckles. Fell strapped them on a shutter of excitement flowing through Fell's body.

Fell turned to the fighter, examining the newest prey. The man was not the largest Fell had faced but he was not small either. Size did not matter to Fell, Fell was small yet it was the opponent's blood that stained the sand and their bodies that lay broken on the floor. Fell could already taste victory. The man was muscular and of medium height. His head was a shinny bald and his eyes were blue green and blazing with fury, a hammer was gripped in his hand still bloody from the last fight. Fell's neck cracked, it was finally time.

From the crowd Batiatus watched the fight with Aquila grinning by his side. Fell circled around his opponent like a beast circling around its prey. Fell's eyes were trained on his much larger opponent. The man ran forward only for Fell to side step out of the way. He tilted his head in a mocking manner as the man charged again. Fell was playing with him. Batiatus could hear the rest of the crowd laughing at the man's misfortune. It seemed like everyone was enjoying the hound's antics.

"Why dose he not attack?" Batiatus asked looking towards his friend.

"It has been some time since Fell had fought, well in his opinion at least," Aquila laughed, "Fell doesn't want to let it go to waste. He probably already knows I plan on giving him to you. He wants it to last."

Batiatus nodded and returned his gaze to the fight. Fell had unknowingly backed up into a wall. He ducked down as the hammer swung just above his head. Fell braced his feet against the stone column and pushed off ramming the man in the stomach the man staggered back enough for Fell to slip away from the stone pillar and into an open area. Fell's movements had a somewhat graceful touch like the hound had fought outside of the pits once before. Batiatus could see the potential in this fighter; he may just take Aquila up on his offer.

Something unexpected had happened something made Fell trip. It was impossible for Batiatus to tell what it was from his view point. The hammer came down sharply on Fell's back, and he let out a howl of pain as he fell to all fours. "O dear," he heard Aquila say next to him, "this fight will be over soon Batiatus."

"Why is that?" asked Batiatus.

"You'll see," answered Aquila amusement in his voice.

Batiatus turned back to the fight curious about his old friend's words. He could make out a low growl coming from Fell. The hammer came down narrowly missing Fell as he rolled to the side. His opponent furiously continued pounding his hammer down trying to hit the rolling hound. Fell quickly saw an opening to strike, he launched going for the throat. The hit was successful the man staggered back both his hands reaching for his throat out of instinct as he gagged and gasped for air. Fell grabbed the man's hammer. It looked awkward in the smaller fighter's hands. He smashed the hammer against the man's head earning a satisfying crack. The man staggered back blood coming from his mouth. Fell brought the hammer down the man's knee, earning another crack. The man fell to the ground clutching his broken knee. Fell brought it down on the good knee as he tried to crawl away, another crack. Now both the man's legs were useless. Fell hesitated looking to the crowd, and the crowd answered the unasked question with roars, shouts, and screams of, KILL! KILL! KILL! Fell looked back to the man his eyes widened in fear as the hound loomed over him, the mask now more frightening than in the flickering fire light. Fell raised the hammer over his head casting a dangerous silhouette against the wall. The hammer came down again and again and the man's life was no more. His skull was splattered against the floor hardly anything recognizable from his face. A new set of stains colored Fell's mask. The crowd roared with both distain and approval and they collected their coin and paid their dues. Fell stepped back from the man's lifeless corpse panting hard. He tilted his head back and an unearthly howl, cracked, and mutilated erupted from his throat and Fell disappeared from the ring.

Fell flinched with every step. Pain pulsed throughout Fell's back starting at the pot were the hammer had struck down. Fell growled remembering the hand that grabbed Fell's ankle making Fell fall. That should not have happened. Fell followed the slave as she led the hound to her room to heal Fell's wounds if she could. The slave gestured for Fell to sit and the hound obeyed tired from the fight. The slave closed the door behind them. The slave started with the mask Fell tensed as she did so, not used to the mask being removed. The slave then took the hounds blood and dirt stained cloths off. The slave could already see the blood stain forming dead center were the hammer came down. Fell growled as she touched the wound.

"Forgive me," the slave girl spoke her voice quiet and meek as she flinched away proceeding to the bandage around Fell's torso slowly and carefully unwrapping it. The slave winced as she gazed at the wound. Fell could feel the girl tense behind.

"H-ho-ow b-ba-ad?" the hound asked flinching as pain spiked in Fell's throat. Fell's voice was horse, and terribly mutilated making the words come out choppy, broken, and butchered terribly.

"It will take time but it will heal," the slave gently touched around the wound felling for anything broken. Fell bit back hisses of pain as the slave's thin nimble fingers moved about the hound's back. "There doesn't seem to be anything broken, but there are some cracks, a very large bruise, and a slight cut." Fell nodded imagining how badly it looked. The slave grabbed a clean bandage and began wrapping it around Fell's torso. Fell's ears twitched as the sound of voices echoed from beyond the door. Fell prayed silently trying to will the people away. Fell needed to keep this secret as Master had ordered so. Fell's entire body tensed as the footsteps joined the voices as they neared. The creaked open and the footsteps walked in.

Batiatus followed his old friend down further into the pits, further than Batiatus would have liked. Aquila obviously did not feel the same as Batiatus for his happy demeanor did not change.

"So have you considered my offer?" asked Aquila breaking the silence between them.

"Yes I have," answered Batiatus.

"And?" asked Aquila drawing out the word.

"Is what you have told me true?" he asked in genuine curiosity.

"Every word," Aquila answered opening a door Batiatus hadn't realized they stopped at, "and here I prove it."

Batiatus walked in and saw himself face to face with the hound of the pits 'himself' or rather as he should say herself. Where the bandages wrapped around the chest there were the tell tale signs of breasts. The woman had horribly matted long to mid back black hair and animalistic yellow eyes. The woman was muscular and lean; every muscle was tense more like a wolf on the prowl looking for something or someone to kill than human. Her face was not beautiful, a long scar tore across her forehead messily almost like she could not dodge away in time as the blade came down or se struggled; the scar ran down from the forehead to her jaw then downward meeting with the scar on throat. The scar across her throat was more visible now. It looked almost like she was wearing a necklace as it disappeared underneath her hair. Several other scars danced across her skin from who knows how many battles and fights. It was like she had fought a war and came back a monster.

Batiatus nodded, "Very well, I cannot turn down an opportunity to make coin. I will take her."

Now you know, although you could have probably guessed what the secret was. From here on out there will be more pronouns, yay!

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