"Never," Ambrose repeated the word under his breath and he dug his fingers in the dirt for more wild garlic unable to help his small smile. Until he heard that word leave Roman's lips he never fathomed one word could mean so much to any one person. Ambrose was placing everything he was and everything he could possibly be into that one word. It was the most terrifying thing he had ever experienced in his life, aside from when he thought Roman was walking away from him forever.
From the moment he saw the tall raven haired man he felt his heart skip a beat before it began to race, and it had nothing to do with battle. It was not much of a battle in any case; Roman and Cena seemed to be only ones who possessed the ability to wield a blade. They possessed greater skill than any Ambrose had ever seen since his days with the Druids, and while they both fought viciously, he could see that for Roman it seemed to be out of habit, not desire. It made his chest ache.
When he had looked into the beautiful man's eyes with his sword poised offering him opportunity Roman's hesitation broke his heart. He possessed no real will to live. Ambrose's masters had taken his body and what his life should have been, but not his will. They had almost taken that as well, but when Orton had lost consciousness and Ambrose knew he would soon pass it ignited something inside of him.
Not for himself, but for Orton, and he found his fight. Orton often thought he owed Ambrose a debt, but Ambrose felt he owed Orton, who had given him intention. It was strange as he and Orton were never friendly, though the man pestered him constantly, but they were now as brothers none the less. He was forever indebted to the rather talkative and sensitive Greek.
Ambrose found his way back to his roots as he tended to Orton praying for the first time since he was taken. When Orton pulled through it was a sign from the gods. Ambrose vowed to do their bidding and provide the balance he neglected in his despair. The soldier that had almost taken Orton's life lived not to see another moons cycle as Ambrose accepted his charge, nor did countless others for that matter. He found his desire for vengeance and balance.
Ambrose detested the Romans greatly, but somehow even more so in the raven haired man's moment of hesitation. Someone so beautiful and so strong reduced to simply waiting for the gods to have mercy on his poor soul. Ambrose was now certain regardless of the other man's decision his blade would have never fallen, but it did not mean it did not anger him, though he knew now it was more hurt rather than anger.
For months Ambrose channeled that hurt into anger as he often did, it was how he survived, while knowing full well he was unwelcome at Roman's side he never lost faith. Ambrose had tried all he could think of to get something out of the other man for months. When he would not even speak his name and Cena would not reveal it either Ambrose had tried to remind who was responsible for his hurts, but his eyes remained dull.
Orton bid him to leave Roman alone, but he could not no matter how hard he tried. Ambrose was drawn to him, and while the silence and rejection made his heart ache, sometimes though infrequently, he got a spark of life that made it impossible to abandon his attempts. He took his cue from Orton who had never let him be though he had pleaded with him and continued to press on. Though he was worried Roman might be a test from his gods.
Ambrose was unaware just when his determination to force the man to find intent turned into something more, but the fateful night everything changed for all of them as Roman stormed away in his anger Ambrose became fully aware that the silent sad man had long possessed his heart. It was terrifying.
Though he was young when he lost his true family he recalled the blood and still heard their cries in his slumber. They man that had taken them had simply walked away as Ambrose sat in the corner rocking with his knees drawn tightly to his chest unseen, unable to even find a tear to shed. He hardly remembered doing it, but he had picked up a fallen blade and spilled the blood of a man he had watched spill so much.
The Druid who found him starving on the beach and covered in blood had named him Ambros, which in Celtic Gaelic meant "immortal", for he had been the only survivor out of hundreds. The kind old man had taken him in and shown him their mysterious ways insisting there was a reason for it all. While he seemed to have been born in blood his charge was to be balance, and it was determined he should be a healer, though he they all still trained as warriors.
His charge of balance required he save life where he may, but also spill blood as was necessary to preserve natural order. It was such a weary task, and while he learned much their numbers were few. They had been traveling, or as Ambrose saw it now running from extinction as a new religion had taken root even in the oldest tribes, when he was taken. He still knew not why he had been left behind that night, and now he saw there had to be reason, it had still nearly broke him.
The Roman's had slaughtered all they did not wish to keep and he was then carted away and an "E" was added to his name. The time he spent in the brothel was hazy at best, though he still possessed an aversion to being touched most of the time. His new life began in the Roman Legions and eventually is his current situation with Orton by his side as he tried to leave it all behind him; to forget his heart ache and pain just focusing on anger, balance, and vengeance; then what he had become certain was his test from the gods tilted his world on it's head.
Ambrose had not seen it as a blessing, instead a test he was failing miserably, but still he could not leave it be, he would not leave it be. His rationalization for leaving Roman behind was flimsy at best, and while Orton did not believe it for a moment the Chief had agreed. Ambrose knew Roman would be angry, but he was offering him another opportunity as well; to provide balance. He knew not why, but he was certain Roman possessed the spirit of a healer, though his hands were undeniably stained with blood.
Roman's anger had cut deeper than he could have ever imagine though he knew it was coming. That was why he could not respond immediately. He sat there torn as to what to say or do. The other man possessed such a hatred for him, which he did not blame him for, it enabled him to only mutter what had allowed his survival. Orton had saved him from possibly divulging everything making sure his test from the gods did not end in utter failure right then and there.
Ambrose found his anger at the dirty binding knowing it could be Roman's end and his efforts would have been in vain. He clung to that anger as he walked away. Six eternal days he had been separated from Roman, and worried for him knowing he would likely shirk his instructions out of his distaste for Ambrose. Orton had gone to check on him immediately without being bid knowing Ambrose was beside himself.
Ambrose had put everything he possessed into healing the stubborn silent man who by all accounts should no longer drawn breath. His heart had stopped when Roman mumbled of dreaming of him, but he had chocked it up to fever. Ambrose considered himself far from beautiful, which meant he could not possibly have known it was him.
Still, Ambrose prayed and rocked him kissing his head begging him to hang on until the sun had come up, and he had no choice but to tend to his charges. Three had passed in his absence and he cursed himself as he lost two more for his weakness. They may have passed none the less, but he was furious with himself.
Orton had suggested Cena watch over Roman as he saw Ambrose was distracted in his worry; while they never seemed friendly they had come to them together so Ambrose agreed. It did not stop him from going to Roman again in the darkest hours before dawn. Ambrose knew he was weak, but this felt like a new low.
He was failing his test miserably, and every time he laid eyes on Roman it reminded him of his weakness, and the weakness that had befallen him in the brothel before he found his intent. Ambrose had questioned his wisdom at making Roman his apprentice when they'd come back from that awful hunting trip and at seeing him on his feet it was almost impossible not to run to him as well as the pang of jealousy he felt at seeing him smile at Orton and Cena.
Ambrose had never felt so at war with himself, especially when Roman had made him question his convictions. Orton often talked circles around its sense, but the anger, hurt and passion that emanated from the man he inexplicably had come to love struck him somewhere he knew not existed.
It tore him up, and made him feel worse than he had ever could have imagined. In his eternal weakness he had gone to him again and while he accepted his presence his heart sank when he did not name him beautiful. It was stupid and he knew it, but when Roman reached out and took his hand his heart soared.
Ambrose had awoken alone to the noon day sun, and while the memory of waking up in Roman's arms and of gentle kisses made him smile unbidden, his heart sank at his weakness and failure. Sleep had been needed, but he had neglected his charge. Roman's tenderness when he had snapped at them had taken him so off guard he froze, but once he had walked away Orton had begun to yell at him and Ambrose yelled back.
He had never intended to hit him, but he was so jumbled as of late, and when Orton drew attention to the fact he was being thick and seeing a blessing as a test along with ruining the only good thing that had been afforded him in such a long time he had snapped. Mostly due to its truth, but he felt horrid instantly. Roman's disapproval had made it that much worse.
Everything good in his life had been snatched away aside from Orton and Ambrose was more afraid than ever, especially as they held their breath waiting to be called to the front lines that Roman would prove his ruin. He did not think he could come back from the loss. Ambrose was trying his damnedest not to throw away his blessing, but it was all so new and so terrifying he was just blundering through it.
He had been praying as he often did for the souls he could not save as well as those he had taken and it had all overwhelmed him. When he saw Roman he had been so embarrassed causing him to freeze, but when he saw Roman struggling he went to him though he had never been so nervous. Ambrose had all but forgotten about everything else while he was in Roman's arms.
He fought it at first like he had for so many months, but as it all came crashing down around him he surrendered. It was terrifying and beautiful all at once; he wanted to run away and never let go. Roman's words had touched his heart in a way he had never experienced, and while he wanted nothing more in than moment than Roman when his lips brushed away his tears and some of his pain he had panicked.
Roman's devastation and tears told him he ruined it. Orton had warned him and he had been trying, but it was unbelievably difficult. When Roman turned away his panic morphed into desperation. As terrifying as everything had been nothing was more terrifying than the thought of losing Roman forever. Roman was his beacon of light and his blessing as well, so it all poured forth from him as he begged for patience and faith.
When his words had no effect, which did not surprise him, because he had never had a way with words, he dug deep for his courage and pressed his lips to Roman's in attempts to show him. It was brief, because it was all he could manage and beyond difficult for him, he had never willingly done anything of the sort, but oh so amazingly breath taking.
It felt as though his whole world was hanging in the balance as he looked up at the man he loved, but could not find the words so he simply pleaded with his eyes, and then… "Never."
One word, so simple, but nothing had ever meant so much to him. No more words were spoken; words were not their strong suite, as Roman carefully took his hand and led him back to their companions who all wore smiles that caused him to blush. Never had he fathomed something in this horrible world would be so… good and light, but it was here now, and Ambrose had never been so grateful in all his life.
He knew he was coarse and hard on the outside, it was who he had to become to survive to compensate for the fact he had always been somewhat soft. Life had made him as he was now, and he was trying to his new blessing make him something different; let Roman make him something different. That night as he fell asleep in Roman's arms he made them both a silent promise he fully intended to keep with everything he was.
"I hope that is not more of your awful garlic," Roman's voice made his heart race as it came from behind him, and while Ambrose knew he hated garlic the fact his voice still possessed a tenderness solely reserved for him made him smile.
"Perhaps next time you will pay more attention," Ambrose pushed to his feet and pushed a fresh bulb of garlic into his hand.
Roman scowled at him causing him to laugh, and while they had already had a row as to who was at fault, all had been forgiven and it had become somewhat of a private joke. Even as he scowled at the garlic and Ambrose the small smile he had been trying to suppress made Ambrose's heart flutter, and not for the first time since they met he had the urge to press his lips to Roman's and wrap him in his arms never letting go.
"You are impossibly infuriating," Roman grumble at his smirk.
"I thought I was a beautiful blessing," Ambrose cocked his eyes brow playfully making Roman's scowl soften.
Ambrose could see in his eyes Roman desired the same thing as he, but was being patient as he had asked which only heightened Ambrose's desire.
"An impossibly infuriating beautiful blessing," Roman amended with mock reluctance.
The sun was just setting causing soft light to play off Roman's features making him all the more beautiful. Cautiously Ambrose stepped forward encircling him in his arms. It was terrifying, but at the same time felt unbelievably good. As Roman tensed he knew he was just as unready for much else just as Ambrose, but the desire was there, and that alone was enough for now.
"You are glowing," Roman said softly cradling him gently and caressing his cheek.
"Glowing?"
"Aye, glowing," Roman pressed his lips to his head causing Ambrose to shutter and Roman to chuckle in satisfaction, "so beautiful."
Ambrose felt as though his heart was in his throat. No one had ever looked at him, nor held him, and cherished him with such reverence; it stole the air from his lungs, but also afforded him courage. He looked up at Roman questioningly and the small smile he received he took as permission.
His heart hammered as his palms began to sweat and he took a steady breath before carefully leaning and gently pressing his lips to the other man's. This time he felt Roman's lips mold to his own, and while last time had been remarkable his desperation had dulled what he could feel now more than he ever thought possible.
Roman's lips were soft, yet somehow unyielding as they synchronized movement with his own. Every fiber of his being vibrated and gave off and incredible amount of heat. It felt like too much, but like it would never be enough as he tugged Roman closer. He tangled his fingers in the other man's hair and received a surprised, but satisfied gasp that stirred something with in him he thought he no longer possessed.
It was still tentative and careful, but more intense than anything he had ever felt. Ambrose wanted more, he felt as though he needed more, which caused him slight panic and his hands began to shake. Roman felt his sudden tension and unease which caused Ambrose's eyes to sting wishing he was somehow different, as the other man pulled back gently and cradled his face tenderly.
"Never," Roman whispered with an unfathomable amount of love in his eyes causing Ambrose's heart to soar as it melted simultaneously, before Roman pulled him into his chest.
"Never," Ambrose whispered back as a tear slide down his cheek and soaked into Roman's tunic.
One simple word, yet it meant so much. It was everything to Ambrose, and so much more. It was his hopes, his dreams, his fears, his blessing, his curse, his balm and his future all rolled into one.
"Never."
