Chapter Nine: The Fight Had Yet To End
The sound of the stream was calming, the sun starting to set as we made our way to the temple the rebels had made camp in. For the moment I was alone, the others resting a few yards from where I was. I had wanted a moment to try and relax, to try and wrap my head around what had happened. I felt weak both mentally and physically. It hurt to remember. It hurt to know what had happened or what could have happened. Sighing, I tried to push down the emotion that was fighting to come to the surface.
"I know you're there." I said softly, hearing a sigh as Varro appeared from behind me, sitting at my side. Wrapping his arm around me, he pulled me against his side. "Apologies." I told him sadly. "I simply needed a moment to reflect on everything that has happened without the prying eyes of the others."
"Understandable." He said kissing my shoulder.
Turning my head I looked at him with glistening eyes, taking his hand in mine. "I thought I was never going to see you again."
"I thought the same." He said softly as he moved my hair out of my face with his fingers. "I should be angry with you for what you did."
"You would have done the same." I told him with a small smile.
"Yes." He said kissing me sweetly. "Thinking you dead a second time was far worse than the first." He told me with a look of agony. Taking his head in my hands, I kissed him passionately, letting the taste of him linger in my mouth. "Never risk yourself that way again." He told me demandingly.
Putting my arm around his neck, I pressed myself against him. "I will do my best." I told him before kissing him again, running my fingers through his hair before placing my hand against his face, trailing my thumb across his bottom lip. "I cannot lose you."
"Lea," he said sadly, "I will not survive you dying."
"Nor I if you were to die. Nothing matters more to me than you." I told him. He furrowed his brows, making a soft noise, agreeing with me as he kissed me deeply. "If we are to die then let us die together in the heat of battle." I whispered with our foreheads touching.
"Agreed." He nodded and kissed me again. "We should tend to your wounds."
Nodding, he pulled my ratted dress over my head, his fingers gently moving up and down my body, gently touching my bruises and wounds before he waded into the water with me. Kneeling down, the water covered the bottom of my breasts; goosebumps rose across my skin even though the coolness of the water felt good. Varro's hands were gentle as they ran across my skin, cleaning my wounds as best as he could. Holding me tenderly, he dipped me back to clean the blood and dirt from my hair, face, and neck. Leaning me back up he looked closely at the state I was in, his fingers gently moving across the slash across my chest.
"We'll give you herbs when we return to stave off any infection." He told me.
"Okay." I smiled at him. It was nice to be taken care of. He bent down, looking at the wound on my side. I could feel the worry in the way he touched it. "Is it deep?"
"Yes." He told me. "It's still bleeding. We'll have to close it."
"With what?" I asked him. He remained silent. There were only two ways to close a wound such as this. With a needle and thread or with fire. "Varro." I said looking up at him with worry.
"Come." He said gently. "I cannot do this by myself."
Gently pulling me onto my feet he pressed me against his side as he led me from the stream. Helping me back into my dress, I was still shaking from the cold of the water and the blood loss that I was still experiencing. Wrapping his arms around me, we returned to the others. Varro sat me against a tree before rushing away to Spartacus. Worry filled me as I touched my wound, my fingers coming back red. My shaking intensified, being startled when Mira took my hands, wiping the blood from my fingers as she smiled at me.
"He's worried." I told her. "He's calm in his worry and that frightens me."
"He is worried." She told me. "But you could have cut your finger and he'd react the same."
"Mira." I said with furrowed brows. "I think this is a little more serious than that."
"It is, but he simply loves you more than words can describe." She stated as she looked at my side, her brows creasing as she frowned. "He's had to think you dead twice now. He cannot take it. He feels your pain as if it was his own."
"The same is for me." I told her, my eyes on Varro. He was speaking to Spartacus and Agron, a worried expression on his face. My stomach dropping when Varro and Spartacus started to move toward me, Agron kneeling on the ground starting to build a fire. "This is going to hurt isn't it?" I asked Spartacus as he bent down in front of me.
"Come with me." He smiled sweetly.
Taking his hand, pain erupted in my side as he and Varro helped me to my feet. Leading me to the fire that Agron had created, his sword already being heated in the flames. "No." I told them fighting against Varro and Spartacus' hold on me. "No! I can't. I can't let you do this." Memories of watching Crixus being burned flooded my mind, sending terror though my veins. The blood. The pain. The screaming. The smell…
"You have to." Spartacus told me. "Your wound needs to be sealed or you will eventually bleed to death or die of blood poisoning."
"No! I'm fine. Don't do this." I told him on the verge of hysterics. "I'm fine. I'll be fine." I said looking up at Varro. "It'll stop on its own. I don't need to be burned."
"It won't stop on its own, my love." He smiled sadly as he put his hand against my face.
"I can wait." I pleaded. "I can wait till we return and someone can help stitch it. I cannot handle being burned."
"Lea. Varro said with an air of frustration.
"I cannot handle being burned!" I yelled still fighting against them.
"Spartacus." Crixus said moving forward. "We will find another way."
"It needs to be done." Spartacus told him, holding up his arm to stop him.
"Lea –" Varro said gripping my arm.
"Varro, I cannot handle being burned!" I cried fighting harder, pulling myself free, falling to my stomach before struggling to get to my feet. Hands were on me, making me struggle even more. "Let me go!"
"Stop! Stop, stop, stop." Varro said as he turned me, pulling me against him.
"No!" I yelled as he pinned me against his chest. There was shouting at he put his hand against the back of my head, holding me tightly against him. I already felt weaker, his embrace painful. Slowly putting my arms around him, I calmed, coming to terms with what needed to be done. All eyes were on me; even Gannicus' who stood watching over Oenomaus. Crixus was pacing, agony written across his face as Spartacus stood in front of him as if a barrier between him and me. He knew what I was about to go through. Gripping Varro tighter, I shut my eyes, not wanting to see theirs staring at me. "I'm scared." I whispered to him, my shaking intensifying, mixing with his. "I'm scared, Varro."
"I know." He said running his hand down the back of my head. "But it needs to be done." Leaning away from him, he took my head in his hands, kissing me deeply. "Come." Nodding at him, he led me back to where the others waited, looking at me with pained expressions.
"Lea." Crixus said gripping my hand, the other gently pressing against my face. Tears slid down my cheeks as I forced a smile for him, my shaking giving away how afraid I was as I covered his hand with mine. "You will be all right."
"Crixus." I said gripping him, silently pleading with him to help me get out of this.
"Lea." Varro said running his hand down my hair.
"The same had to be done for Nasir." Mira told me. "He lives because we sealed his wound."
"I understand the reason for it." I told her with a frown, tears running from my eyes. "It's the pain that I'm going to have trouble with."
"I'm right here." Varro told me as he once again pulled me against his side, pressing his face into my hair.
"Come." Spartacus said holding his hand out to me.
Nodding, I took it, lying on the ground next to the fire. Agron's sword was already red, waiting to be pressed against my skin. Varro knelt at my head, putting a stick in my mouth before putting his hands on the sides of my head. Mira took my hand, holding it tightly as Spartacus put one hand firmly on my shoulder, the other low on my abdomen, keeping plenty of room for the sword to meet flesh.
"You will be all right." Crixus said taking my other hand. "I will not leave your side."
"We'll be as quick as we can." Spartacus told me. Nodding at him, I took a shuddering breath, squeezing the hands that held mine as I prepared to bite down on the wood in my mouth. "Try and hold still."
Varro put his forehead against mine, "I love you." Letting go of Mira's hand, I reached my hand up, putting it on the back of his neck. "You're going to be fine." Scoffing, I let out a short laugh, making him grin and laugh at me. "Now you're going to be strong?" He smirked at me. Shrugging, he laughed again, rubbing his thumbs back and forth across my temples as he placed a kiss against my forehead.
"Here we go." Agron said as he moved to my wounded side.
Gripping Mira's hand again, I took several deep breaths. Thinking I had prepared myself enough to handle what was about to happen, I found that I was terribly mistaken. When the metal touched my skin, I couldn't help but writhe with pain, an agonized scream pushing past the stick in my mouth. Squeezing Crixus' and Mira's hands, I felt Crixus' other hand press down on my shoulder as Spartacus put all his weight into holding me down, Mira helping as her hand found my other shoulder. Tears were streaming from the corners of my eyes as I screamed and fought. Varro put his face next to mine, trying to calm me with shushing sounds and soft words. All the while I attempted to move away from the pain that was literally searing my flesh. Though Spartacus was true to his word, for it was over far quicker than I had anticipated. Agron put his hand on my chest as I started to slow my struggling, panting from the pain and exertion.
"It's okay. It's over." He was telling me softly.
Varro removed the stick from my mouth. I could taste blood at the corners, small abrasions formed from the force of my bite. "Oh god." I said as I took deep breaths.
"It's over." Varro told me as he wrapped me in his arms. "I've got you. It's all over now. You're going to be fine."
Looking at my side, the skin was red and enflamed but was no longer bleeding. They had succeeded, though the pain had intensified to such a degree that my head started to spin, looking up at Varro before everything fell away.
Waking to movement, I found myself cradled against Varro's chest, my head resting against his shoulder, my face against his neck. Taking a deep breath, the smell of him flooded my senses, waking me further. Slowly wrapping my arms around him, my hand moving to the nape of his neck, he stopped, relaxing as he rested his head against mine.
"You're awake." He said with relief.
"I am." I smiled, kissing his cheek. Leaning away, I put my hand on his face, staring into his blue eyes as I kissed him sweetly.
"How do you feel?" He asked.
"Better." I told him. "Weak, but better. Still cold."
He smiled and kissed me again. "Don't worry, I've got you."
"Then I cannot be safer." I said rubbing his cheek, my arm tightening around his neck as I kissed him again.
"Lea." Mira said appearing at my side, her hands on my arm.
"Mira." I smiled at her. Spartacus stepped up and put his hand against my face. "Spartacus."
"You look like hell." He smirked.
Laughing, I nodded at him as I put my hand on his forearm. "I feel like it too."
"Agron sealed it nicely." Mira told me. "You're going to be fine."
Looking at Agron, he gave me a small smile and a subtle nod. "Gratitude." I told him, emotion filling my voice. "Truly." He nodded again. "Varro, I think I can walk." I told my love.
"Do not fear, I've got you." He told me, his grip gently tightening.
"We've been walking for hours." Mira stated. "I'll help her. You could use the rest."
"I've got her." He frowned at her.
Smiling, I nodded at her, looking back at Varro. "I promise not to make you worry so much in the future."
"I'd appreciate that." He said with his beautiful half smile.
"You must do the same." I said with my lips brushing his. He simply made a noise, moving to press his lips against mine, only to have me lean away from him. "Promise me."
He met my eyes, sighing, "I promise."
"Gratitude." I smiled and kissed him passionately, my tongue running along his.
"Come on you two, let's keep moving." Spartacus smiled at us.
"Apologies." I told him, a blush rising in my cheeks.
"None needed." He said putting his arm around Mira.
Once again on the move, when the temple finally came into sight, I took a deep breath of relief. I was exhausted, every inch of my body aching, and a chill still gripped me despite the warmth of Varro's chest. Varro placed a reassuring kiss against my hair, letting me take in the sight of safety, before we moved forward again. Moving through the entryway, we went around to the front of the temple where small fires from several groups were lit. Oenomaus was taken into the temple to be tended to, Spartacus and Gannicus accompanying him. Varro sat me on the steps of the temple next to a large fire at the entrance. He placed a kiss against my hair before he rushed off.
"Lea." Agron said kneeling in front of me, putting his hand against my cheek before frowning, "You're burning up."
"That's funny since I can't seem to shake the chill from the stream." I smiled at him.
He put the back of his fingers against my forehead. "I think it's more than that."
"I've got her." Varro said reappearing, putting a blanket around my shoulders. Wrapping it all the way around me, he pressed me against his side, warming me on one side while the fire warmed my other.
Agron nodded, but looked at me worriedly. "She's formed a fever. Take good care of her."
"I will." Varro told him, watching him as he walked away. Leaning into his side, he gently rubbed my arm. "How are you feeling?" He asked with his lips against my hair.
"Much better now that I'm in your arms." I smiled, relaxing against him.
"You feel warmer." He told me.
"I'm cold." I said nestling as close to him as I could.
"You'll be fine." He said though worry had returned to his voice. Starting to shiver again, he cleared his throat. "What happened? Where were you?" He asked in an attempt to distract as well as to fill his curiosity.
"Home." I told him sadly.
"Batiatus's villa?" He frowned.
"Yes. Glaber is there with his wife and army. Ashur and Lucretia are there as well."
"Ashur." He said with disdain.
"He's the same as he has always been. If it weren't for Lucretia and Glaber I would have suffered unbearably as I did with Paulus." I told him.
"That will never happen again." He told me matter-of-factly, cradling my head against his chest.
"Lea!" I heard Caius's voice before he, Antonia, and Felix all rushed up to me.
"I am fine." I told them, attempting to sit straight so I could embrace them in turn. It took more energy than I had thought it would. I was starting to feel poorly. "Everything is fine." I told Antonia as she cried into my shoulder.
"We thought you dead." Felix stated sadly.
"I'm not so easily killed." I smiled putting my hand on his face.
"The others will be pleased." Caius told me. "I don't think they care for me as much as they do for you."
"I'm leaving you in charge until I recover further. They will understand." I told him.
"Of course." He nodded. "I'm sure they'd like to hear from you."
"Hear what?" I frowned. "That I was imprisoned and nearly executed? There is nothing that needs to be said right now. Keep them organized and make sure they're pulling their weight with the rest of the group. I need to rest." He simply nodded and left me. Sighing heavily, the other two embraced me once more before they too took their leave. Looking at Varro, I couldn't help the sad expression that crossed my face. "I'm tired."
Kissing my forehead, he helped me to my feet. Slowly moving forward, he surprised me by scooping me into his arms, holding me tightly against his chest. Smiling, I wrapped my arms around his neck, kissing me as he returned my smile. Resting my head against his he carried me inside, taking me to a small room. There was a light in one corner, our small amount of belongings along one wall. Taking the blanket from around me, he stripped me of my dress, pulling another from his bag, helping me into it, wrapping the blanket around me again before laying me on the blankets that were on the floor. Rolling onto my side, I curled into myself, cold and tired. Lying behind me Varro pulled me against him, his body forming around mine, warmth starting to fill me as he took my chill away. Shutting my eyes, I took a deep calming breath, relaxing as I laced my fingers with Varro's, holding his arm against my chest, my head resting comfortably on his bicep.
"I love you." He whispered as he buried his face in my hair.
"I love you." I whispered back before sleep took me.
When I woke, I felt as if I had lost control of my body. My shaking was so intense that I couldn't move from the ball that I found myself in. My eyes nearly refused to open but when they did everything seemed out of focus. There were voices in the background but I couldn't make out what they were saying, my breathing loud in my ears. A hand gently touched my shoulder, feeling like fire despite the chill I had. Fingers ran through my hair and Varro's voice whispered into my ear, his lips pressing against my neck.
"Varro." I managed to choke out, my eyes threatening to roll back into my head.
"I'm here." He said rushing around me so he could meet my eyes. "I'm right here; you're going to be fine."
"I'm cold." I told him as tears streamed from my eyes, attempting to put my hand on his face, only managing the tips of my fingers. "I'm so cold." Black specs started to dance across my vision. A tear sliding down Varro's cheek was the last thing I saw.
There was little in his life that he was afraid of losing. He had had a normal Roman childhood, raised by loving parents, fell in love, got married, and made a family. He did what all were supposed to do. Only despite what he had, he had wanted more, settling for gambling to pass the time, the excitement of it continuously drawing him in. The possibility of winning or losing. But it had only been coin he had lost. At first it seemed like he had lost too little to be of import. Then his loses had grown to an extent he had never dreamed of, jeopardizing the wellbeing of his family. A family he loved and adored. His gambling had driven him to take the last resort to get out from under the debts he owed, volunteering himself to be trained and used as a gladiator. In two years he would have earned enough to pay his debts and he would be reunited with loving wife and precious son.
Only the unexpected happened. He met a woman in the house he was serving in. She was fair skinned, with doe eyes that were the color of the fresh leaves in the spring. Her long brown hair fell in waves, beautiful even when she did nothing with it. Her touch felt as if it had healing powers. Her gentleness unmatched yet she held such strength that was rarely seen in a woman of her station. He had noticed her immediately. The way her hips moved when she walked. The way the corners of her eyes wrinkled when she smiled. There was something about her that made him always look twice. Though he hid it well for he was loyal to his wife. She meant the world to him and he would never betray her. Or so he had thought.
Many days passed and the more he saw her, the more contact he had with her, he found himself longing for one more look, one more touch so he could remember her. There were moments where he hated himself for wanting to be near her. He had a wife who was waiting for him, yet she wasn't here. She wasn't here and there was someone else that filled him with excitement and longing the same as his wife did, if not more. He didn't ask for it and he didn't want to feel for another the way he felt for his wife. Yet here she was, constantly smiling at him as if he were all she could see. Every time she touched him he could see in her face that she was memorizing him. She was obvious in her feelings despite trying to hide it while he concealed his feelings for her with far better success. His feelings toward her shouldn't exist and he never intended on acting on them.
However, it was inevitable. She took care of him every time he was injured. She had managed to get herself put in the Medicus's chambers, assisting as often as she could. Many times she had cleaned and tended his wounds, her stitching impeccable, taking her time to make sure it was perfect. Something he had a feeling she did only for him, all the while she'd say things she shouldn't, making the fire he had for her rise. At some point it was bound to boil over.
He remembered every moment of the first night they shared together. Only it wasn't sex that they had shared. It was simply words. Nothing but talk filled the space between them, the occasional kiss when the talking died down, only to have their mouths refueled and their talk would continue. It wasn't her body that he craved most. It was her mind. The sound of her voice. The feel of her touch and the way she looked at him as if he were Jupiter himself. She was unlike any woman he had ever met. She was sure of herself yet was a cherished slave. She spoke words that made him feel drunk from their power. He didn't know anyone could speak like that. She could have her will every time she opened her mouth. Only she understood that he had a family and she tried her hardest to keep her distance, making sure that he remained loyal to his wife.
Every day the task grew harder and harder. Then his wife came to see him, telling him she had been forced upon and was now with child. At the time it had been a brutal betrayal. Something he hadn't seen coming and had taken the news quite poorly. At the same time he was angry with his wife, hating her, it was as if one door had closed and another had opened. He could finally have the woman he had been craving since his arrival. There was nothing stopping him from giving her what she wanted. From giving himself what he wanted. He wanted her. Thinking of her made his wife fall away from his mind and she alone encompassed his thoughts. She questioned him heavily on his state of mind. She didn't want to be used because of what his wife had done to him. She didn't want to be second simply because he was angry with his wife. She wanted him. She wanted all of him and in that moment so did he. She was all he could think of and she surpassed his expectations when they lay together for the first time. It was as if his cock was meant for her cunt and hers alone. He had never fit so well with a woman. Nothing was more perfect then the moment they became one, pleasure making their skin tingle, a love blossoming that neither knew could exist.
Though she still had her reservations. She was afraid that he would seek redemption from his wife. Despite his attempts at reassuring her, she had been right. In the end he had sought redemption. He loved his wife and did not wish to throw away everything they had shared. They had a son that he loved dearly and he wanted to make things right for the sake of his son if not his own. He had made promises and he wasn't one to break them. Though he had fallen in love with the salve woman. She meant the world to him. More than he had ever thought possible. It was a different kind of love than the love he had for his wife. It felt stronger in some ways, but he knew that he had to try and make amends with his wife. He owed it to her. He owed it to their son. There was a moment when he thought his wife and son were dead. Blood found in their empty home. For a moment his mind had been lost. Only it wasn't just in worry for his wife and son but the fact that the slave he loved had rejected him. She willingly sacrificed her own happiness by telling him to be with his wife and son. She wanted him but knew that he wanted to attempt to be the husband that his wife needed him to be. Despite his feelings for her she knew that his wife still held a part of him. The size of it unknown to both. Wishing to save them both pain, she told him that what they had shared was over. This more than the fact that his family may be dead affected him the most. He was worried for his family yet the sting of losing both women was enough to drive him mad.
He had yet to make amends with the woman he loved when his wife was found and brought to the ludus. His heart had soared at the sight of her, embracing her and sharing affections that husband and wife should. What he did not know was that he was being watched. Hurting the person he never intended to. He had spoken with his wife, reminiscing about the past and what the future held. As they spoke, he couldn't help but think of the one he would be leaving behind. Realizing that he couldn't. The love for his wife was waning and the love for the slave was growing. He realized that living without her was impossible, yet he still wanted to stay true to his wife. He was torn in two. Two women. Two lives. He couldn't have both. He knew that he would have to make a choice. That fact weighing on him heavily. He had gone to seek guidance from Spartacus only to find the slave there with red eyes, pain written across her face and in the way she held herself. She had seen him and now there was little he could do to make her see that he wanted to be with her. He wanted her with him and yet how could he be with her while his wife was still alive and well?
He thought she would never forgive him for returning to his wife, even though she understood why he did it. Even though she had wanted him to be with his wife. This was the pain she had wanted to spare him and herself. He knew he had hurt her and wanted to make amends. Wanted to feel her lips against his, her touch against his skin, her voice as she whispered in his ear. He wanted all of her but he had ruined it when he sought out his wife. He truly was torn in two. However, he didn't have to wait to make amends. The actions of a young boy made it clear to him of her feelings for him. He was set against Spartacus in exhibition only the match turned deadly when Spartacus was ordered to end his life. The Bringer of Rain hesitated, unwilling to kill his friend, but the guards were closing in and he was given no choice. But before Spartacus could end his life, the slave girl rushed forward, knocking him out of harm's way, taking his place before the crowd. In that moment she had doomed herself and yet showed him what he meant to her. They were both whipped, she more than him, before she was sold to a monstrous man. A grief like he had never known took hold of him. Seeing the state she was in, the look on her face, the way her lips formed 'I love you' before she was taken from his sight…it was all more than he could bear. He had screamed his agony for what felt like hours, denying the Medicus from tending his wounds, feeling guilty for not being whipped at horribly as she was. The image of her blood running down her back, her screams ripping the sky apart, her tears drenching her cheeks and the ground as she hung her head in defeat, haunting him. He tried to remember her smile and the way she laughed when he squeezed her sides. Not wanting to see her in pain whenever he shut his eyes. That first night after she was gone he vowed that he would not rest until he found her and freed her. It didn't matter if he was still in servitude. He would put all his winnings toward freeing her from the horrible place they had sent her to. He didn't want to imagine what was happening to her in his absence, wanting nothing more than to protect her from harm. Spartacus attempted to ease his mind but there was nothing that could be done. He was in agony over losing her and he would have her back. No matter the cost.
Even after everything that had happened, another surprise yet awaited him. His wife had left their son with her bother, coming to the house Batiatus. She had given herself to the house in order to work off his debt at a faster rate. She had been told of what had happened. Told of the slave girl that had caught his eye, leading to her feeling jealous and possessive of her husband. He had tried to be the husband she knew and loved. But he was no longer the same man that he had been before he came to the ludus. He had changed and had fallen in love with another woman. One that he still intended on finding and freeing. Though he still tried to make his wife happy. They spoke, laughed, and made love as they always did. She was pleased with him. As pleased as she always had been. He was not. He realized that he no longer held the same feelings for his wife as he had before coming to this place. His heart belonged to another. He was going mad with worry at what was happening to her. Not knowing was far worse than he had anticipated. His wife sensed that something was amiss, trying twice as hard to make things right with him. She had rid herself of the child she had been carrying, unable to stand the memory of what happened. Thinking it was the reason of her husband's indifference she had tried and tried hard to be what he wanted. He didn't have the heart to tell her that he loved another.
When Spartacus started his rebellion there was only one thought on his mind. Now he would be free to find the woman he loved. He would free her and they would be together. When the day came that they were once again reunited he would be forced to tell his wife. He would send her to be with their son. He would not be able to follow until the rebellion was over, not knowing how long that would be. He loved his son and still wished to be in his life. The boy would have two mothers. Two that would love him unconditionally for he knew that the slave woman would love him as her own. Her heart was bigger than any he had seen. He would give her as many children as she wanted. He would give her the world if he could. He'd give anything to have her once again in his arms.
He started his search immediately only to find that as a rebel, information was hard to come by. He had to be careful whenever he moved from their latest place of safety. He could trust no one and the ones that he needed to speak to he couldn't risk being seen by. Relying on whispers he looked high and low for her. Praying to the Gods that he found her soon and safe. If anything happened to her he would never forgive himself. If he had simply denied all her advances she would still have been at the ludus and would be with them now as a rebel. He repeatedly went over everything in his mind. Creating scenarios for the best and worst outcome and what could have happened if they had never been together. He drove himself mad with worry. All the while his wife was by his side, wondering where he went at night while even the great Spartacus lay sleeping. Weeks went on this way until he finally convinced her that she should return to their son. He was in need of his mother and there was nothing she could do for the rebellion. He wished to see her safe and knew that the only way for her to remain that way was to send her to her brother's home. Spartacus sent a gladiator with her as protection. He knew that he couldn't accompany her. He couldn't spare the time wasted on taking her there and coming back. He had to find the slave. He needed her in every way a person can be needed.
Saying goodbye to his wife had been difficult. He hated seeing her cry and she seemed unable to stop with her arms wrapped around him. It was bittersweet. But as soon as she was out of sight he felt even surer that he had done the right thing. Delving into his search twice as hard, he felt like he was getting closer to her. He would find her soon and they would be together for the rest of their lives. Only before that could happen, tragedy struck. While in town seeking information with Spartacus, they stopped to hear Glaber speak. His wife and Lucretia nearby, their former Domina had survived, much to the horror of Crixus. Glaber spoke of captured rebels and soon his wife was brought before the crowd. She was beaten within an inch of her life. Seeing her in such a state sent him into a frenzy, rushing forward to rescue her. As soon as she was in his arms he retreated back to the sewers that they called home. He attempted to tend to her wounds but there was nothing that could be done. The only thing he could do was make her as comfortable as he could and hold her until the inevitable happened. She died in his arms. Her last thoughts were of their son in hopes that he stayed safe. After she was gone he couldn't help but mourn her. She was his wife and he had loved her. The loss he felt was great, holding her for hours until Spartacus and Mira coaxed her from his arms. They laid her to rest with all the others they had lost. He spoke highly of her while their friends stood by, grieving her as tears slid down his cheeks. They left him alone to mourn her, knowing that he would need a moment to process. Only it wasn't just grief that filled him. A heavy guilt moved over him. He had been so eager to send her away so he could find and be with another woman. It never occurred to him that something would happen to her. There was always a risk but he never thought it would happen to his wife. She was so delicate. Too delicate for the life of a rebel. He had wanted to save her but it was for his own reasons. He did this. This was his fault.
It was days before he finally moved from the corner he had put himself in. He needed to find his love. With her everything would seem better. She would hold him and tell him she loved him. She'd apologize for his wife and try and not allow him to make light of it. He would miss his wife but he knew an even stronger love that was waiting for him. He would not let her down. He would not fail her as he had failed his wife. She was waiting for him to find her. She would wait for him for as long as it took. Or so he thought.
When the day came that he finally got word of his love it was the happiest day of his life. He told Spartacus where she was and they were on the road immediately. Agron, Crixus, and a handful of other gladiators accompanied them as they raced to save her. Only when they arrived all they found were bodies, pools of blood on the floor and spattered on the walls. After a thorough search of the house they did not find her. She wasn't there and by looking at the state of the house it would be a miracle if she survived. All had told him that she was gone. That there was no chance of her surviving a massacre such as this. He didn't want to believe. But there was no word of any survivors being seen or heard of. They were dead. All of them. Because of the love she held for him she was punished and sold to a monster, killed because of it. He had once again been the cause of the death of the woman he loved. This one he could not take. This one hit him like he'd been stabbed through the chest. He had fallen to his knees; screaming for her till his throat was raw and he could hardly keep his eyes open. The others had to pull him from the house, supporting him all the way back to where they were hiding. Having lost all will to eat or drink he sat in the corner of where they were staying, not caring if he simply withered away into nothing. He had nothing left to live for. All purpose was gone. Even Spartacus' cause could not bring back from his despair. Nothing would ever make him feel the same again. He would never love again.
Then the unthinkable happened. Lying in the farthest room of a villa they had just taken, he was woken by a familiar touch. A voice he knew better than his own. The touch he had longed for. Lips moving against his in a euphoric way. Opening his eyes he met those of the woman he loved. The slave he had fallen for was here, looking more radiant than he'd ever seen. Her smile made warmth flow through him. He could have cried at the sight of her if he hadn't wanted to kiss her so badly. They were reunited. He didn't think it possible but here she was in all her beauty. They made love, laughed, and talked for hours. It was as if they hadn't missed a second with each other.
She took care of him from the moment she returned. She meant everything to him and he knew the he meant everything to her. You don't throw yourself under a sword if you don't love the person you're doing it for. However there were complications with her return. She was not alone. She brought people with her, including the man who had saved her. He was a young Roman who she had met previously. He had eyes for her since the moment he saw her. Even though she was devoted to him and him alone, he couldn't help but feel jealous toward the Roman. It put a strain between them and in the end he opened his mouth and said the wrong thing, hurting her when he had just gotten her back. Then the mines happened. He had been at her side until Spartacus sent him down a different path. He knew his brothers intentions. If he had stayed with her then he would only be concerned with her wellbeing. Separate, they both would look after themselves and those around them. Then the Romans found them and they had to fight their way out. He was terrified to think of what was happening with her. He hated that she wasn't at his side. Moving as quickly as possible, he killed all Romans in his path, finding the others at the back gate, his love on her back with a Roman looming over her. Shoving the soldier off of her, he rushed to her aid, killing him despite her readiness to do so. When the soldier fell away and she saw him she immediately smiled, laughing with happiness to see him. He had beamed back at her, feeling the same, only to have her smile disappear, rushing toward him, yanking him past her so quickly he didn't know what was happening. Turning, he saw the sword in her side, Spartacus' name leaving her lips, hands already on his arms, pulling him away from her. The woman he loved, in all her perfection, put herself in harm's way to save his life for a second time. Only she was captured because of it. She was once again taken from him. The agony he felt was intensified as she yelled for him to go, knowing full well that she was not going with him. He was pulled away from her, a gate being locked between them, a sword at her throat. The agony of having to leave her again was more than he could bear. He fought against Spartacus. For it was him that tore him away from her. He would have stayed and fought for her. The last image he saw of her was her smile despite the steel that was at her throat. He was afraid for her. He was afraid of losing her again. He wouldn't survive it if she died. He needed her. He needed her so badly.
After assuming the worst, they heard whispers of those that were captured. Those that were set to be executed in the primus of the Games. She was one of them. This was his moment to rescue her. He had failed to save her the first time. He would not fail again. They planned until they were ready and they went to the arena and when the primus started Mira was set to put fire to the support beams and as the fire spread they would save their people. He would save her. He would never fail her again. No matter what happened, or where they were taken, he would never fail her again.
He had vowed to never fail her again and yet here he was, failing her. He had saved her from the arena but now she was at death's door. Shaking wracked her form without reprieve. Her skin burned and yet she was freezing. Her breaths quick and shallow, pausing every so often, making his chest clench, waiting for her to take another. She was fading. The last words she had spoken to him were of how cold she was. The last time she spoke to him it was with fear and sadness. She was slipping away from him and there was nothing he could do about it. They had cleaned her wound. It was sealed shut and whatever was inside of her had nowhere to go. He couldn't lose her now. After everything they've been through he couldn't lose her. He knew that she didn't want to lose him. She would hang on for him. He was right here with her and she knew that. She would hold on and pull through because she loved him. She loved him more than anyone could love a person. And he loved her that much and more. So he would lay next to her, keeping her warm, waiting for her fever to break. When she pulled through this he would be here waiting for her, trailing his fingers up and down her arm, pressing his lips against her skin. She would wake up to him holding her, making her feel safe. But in order for that to happen she had to wake up. Her fever had to break and she had to open her eyes. Even now he lay behind her, pressing his body against her back, whispering in her ear that everything will be okay and telling her how much he loved her. She would wake up. She would come back to him. She loved him.
