To live in want and fear. Ilithyia was no stranger to what Mira described before making attempt on her life. Ilithyia hadn't grown up a slave in the same sense as the woman before her but she had been a pawn of Rome, of her father, and then of her husband.

The hands at her throat were as iron and steel in their purpose. The edges of her vision began to blur and become night.

"Have you lost mind!" The surge and strength of Spartacus' voice breathed life back into her.

As quickly as Mira had fallen upon her, she was gone. Spartacus was there, pulling her free of Mira's grasp, and in an instant he was filling that space in front of her. Air filled her lungs, while broad shoulders filled her vision. Capable hands helped her to lean against the wall for support. The way Spartacus discarded Mira behind him and the look in his eyes gave Ilithyia small hope. She had had honestly believed her life forfeit, how many times could she stay his wrath?

The way Spartacus looked at her now, with a tenderness absent from any gaze upon her in what seemed a lifetime. It gave her a dangerous hope, would she yet live to see his forgiveness? Would her child know the warmth of his father's embrace? Ilithyia's mind was still in a dizzy haze, happy thoughts floated to the top and she didn't have the strength to put them away.

Mira was pleading with him. Ilithyia could hear her voice but the words were lost. An attempt to explain herself, to justify Ilithyia's murder and that of Spartacus' child no doubt.

"You do not know my heart." Spartacus' word were clipped and almost snarled.

Mira recoiled from those harsh words, gathering herself quickly and fleeing the cell. Ilithyia knew what Spartacus said was the truth. She was certain that Spartacus could never hold another woman to heart after the death of his wife. It was the defining moment of who he had become. Yet, he spared her life now and she did not know why.

Spartacus didn't speak, he didn't explain, he just gave her some water and watched her quietly.

She felt the child move within her and tears filled her eyes. Ilithyia had feared for the fragile life in the attempt made on hers. Perhaps the child was as strong as it's father.

She wiped her face and looked up. Spartacus' eyes were filled with concern at the shedding of her tears.

"It is just the child, it moves with the strength of it's father." Ilithyia whispered, her voice hoarse and raw.

Spartacus tensed. He quickly moved the water pale to her side and left her alone.

Ilithyia tried to calm herself with slow breaths. She was blindfolded and stumbling through the forest again. She was scared, but not for her life. If Spartacus had wanted her dead, he would have let Mira kill her. Ilithyia was scared because he had taken her far from prying eyes and boisterous cries for her head.

Spartacus meant to release her.

A thing she would never have thought would come to pass. Had the memory Ilithyia conjured of Sura really touched his heart so profoundly that he was moved to mercy? There could be no other explanation. Ilthyia wanted to believe that it was her that moved him, that feelings for her were stirring within his chest as they did in her chest for him.

Ilithyia almost stumbled into him as they came to an abrupt halt. She'd been lost in thought and had no sense of how far they'd traveled.

"Kneel" Spartacus voice commended. It was distant and cold.

Ilithyia did as she was told. He was going to leave her here. He was freeing her, what he assumed would be her desire. How did she tell him that she did not want to return to her husband? How could she tell Spartacus that Gaius' touch was a dangerous, venomous thing?

"Please." Ilithyia struggled to break words but she didn't have any fight left. Words, so swift in coming to her tongue her entire life, seemed absent. Spartacus would never believe that she would trade villa and title for a taste of true freedom. Spartacus would never understand that she herself had never been truly free. Iron shackles never bound her wrists, but she had been bound. Her whole life by the constant expectation that she know her place and do as she was told.

"Do you know what it is? To love, to be filled with light and hope. To see that blessing returned in kind in the eyes of the only one who could know the true depths of your heart?" Spartacus spoke from directly in front of her. His voice was softer now and the picture he painted with his words made her chest tighten and her heart ache.

Ilithyia's thoughts turned to their child. What he described was how she felt when she thought of the life growing inside of her. Spartacus had created this light within her and she longed to stay near him and let him bask in it alongside her.

Ilithyia could feel the gravity of Spartacus, pulling at her, it was no surprise that these people were drawn to him. She knew now that she too would follow him, even if he did not wish it so. That would pale in comparison to a life lived in Gaius' looming shadow. It was ironic that bound and made to kneel in the dirt was the first time in her life she thought herself a free woman. It was the first time in her life she made a decision for her own happiness, with no thought to position or politics.

"Your husband chooses vengeance against me over your life. Taking it would balance nothing." The disgust in Spartacus voice was obvious and it was a sentiment Ilithyia now shared. She wanted the life he spoke of. The life lived in love, one that she could have with her child if she stayed and followed Spartacus. But would he not have her?

Ilithyia's stomach clenched. Spartacus had saved her from Mira, was even angry that the woman had made attempt on her life, while her own husband decided her life wasn't worth saving. Ilithyia would never return to Gaius, she swore to herself.

Spartacus kneeled, her whole body was intensely aware of his presence. He laid a gentle hand upon her bruised neck and leaned to whisper in her ear.

"He does not love you as I loved my wife."

Spartacus touch lingered, as a phantom on her skin, as he stood. Gaius had left her to die and now Spartacus was leaving her here to return to that monster. Her voice wavered but she spoke her inquiry.

"You let me live?" Ilithyia could hear his footsteps. He was already walking away and abandoning her. Tears came without her consent and her whole body trembled.

"Do not think it a kindness." His voice hung in the air behind her.

Ilithyia wished she was stronger, that she had the courage left to speak out on her own behalf. To tell him that she could aid him, to take her with him. Instead she stayed there on her knees and wept.

The gut-wrenching emptiness of her life was set in plain sight as his shadow passed from view.

Ilithyia sat there on the ground until she could no longer hear the sound of his steps on the forest floor. She couldn't explain it but in that moment, as the vacuous darkness threatened to consume her, a fire coursed through her veins. Ilithyia was a born survivor, she was a fighter. Her near-death experience and her husband's abandonment had shaken her but the strength of her character remained.

Ilithyia scrambled to her feet. The tears wouldn't stop even though she willed them to cease. They weren't hers to command.

She pushed herself forward despite blurred vision, throwing herself in the direction she believed he'd gone. She moved as quickly as she could, her abused body protesting every step. It seemed a journey without time, an eternity stumbling without cause or direction. Ilithyia knew one thing, she couldn't give up. She wasn't sure if the glimpse of him through the trees was truth or specter but she hastened her pace. One foot and then the other, her breath came in short gasps and her lungs filled with fire.

Ilithyia saw him again, it was him.

It appeared for a moment that time itself came to a halt. The forest floor reached out for her, taking hold of her ankle. She was falling forward, she turned her body as quickly as she could, her ankle wrenched further but she could not allow herself to land on her stomach. She threw all her weight to one side and prayed to the gods that it was enough. There was a sick pop and molten lava coursed up her leg.

Her body turned to lead but she caught a glimpse of him again through the trees. The last thing she felt before falling into darkness was his warm embrace.