She watched as Pietros gathered the practice swords for the gladiators, the pain clearly written on his face. To the best of his knowledge he thought that Barca had left him. His Barca. The man that he had shared his bed with who had promised him that they would gain freedom together and never be apart for the rest of their days. It was killing her, knowing the truth but allowing poor, naive Pietros to think otherwise. But she couldn't tell him, she couldn't. While her Dominus had not outright threatened her, she knew that if she were to let the truth slip from her mouth that it would be the end of her. And as much as she hated to admit it, she valued her life more over the pain that the lie was causing a boy whom she cared about. It was eating at her, and she was not certain she could let the truth be brushed under the rug for very long.

She took a deep breath and smelled the dampness that the recent rain had spread throughout Capua. A breeze brushed over her skin and she shivered, the coolness bringing only relief down to her bones. The drought had been long and arduous, and the juxtaposition of the dryness and the moisture of the last few days was staggering to say the least.

"Ariana!"

Her heart skipped a beat at the sound of Batiatus calling for her. Every time she heard her name she feared that she had done something wrong. Barca had been a valued member of the ludus for such a long time yet her Dominus did not seem at all distraught from losing him. The idea that his desire to show power over those he believed beneath him had overcome the compassion that she knew he could have for others and for his homestead frightened her. He had often showed her off to the various guests that walked through the doors, stating that she was his most treasured slave. This suddenly meant nothing to her. She felt that she must have been mad to have ever believed him. How could she be so blind to what this man was really like on the inside?

"Yes, Dominus?" As she looked up her breath hitched at the sight of Spartacus standing behind him. Each time she saw him after his battle with Theokoles she thanked the Gods that they had not let him fall in the arena. Her heart sunk at the memory of a conversation she had had with Varro the night before. He confessed that Spartacus had advised him that Batiatus had located his wife and that she was currently making the journey from where she was being held to their ludus, to be reunited with her loving husband.

She was unsure how to feel. She should be happy for the man that she had grown so very fond of. More than anything she desired for him to be happy, and his Sura made him happy. She was the one constant though in his mind, whether kept in the back or in the forefront, it didn't matter. She was aware that her image was always there and she knew that she could not break that stream of consciousness, no matter how she might try.

She had attempted to seem pleased with the knowledge but Varro had known otherwise. Even had he been without sight he would have seen the way that his friend and Ariana were with one another. It was clear that they cared for each other, but that calculated steps had been taken in order to not break the vow that he had made to his wife. When she was taken away from him he declared that he would bring her back and as sorry as he felt for Ariana he knew that Spartacus was a man of his word. As did she. And she wanted to hate him for it, but she couldn't. She understood the power of love and she did not dare get in its way. No matter how much she desperately wanted to try.

And then Varro had said that he planned on taking her away from the ludus at the opportune moment and all hope at keeping him close to her shattered. He was going to leave her and not even take a glance back.

"Come with me. We are going to town to get armour for our new champion. I want you at my side."

She nodded and kept her eyes to the tiled floors, not daring to look at Spartacus out of fear that she might shed tears at the prospect of never seeing him again.


She was fixated at the sight before her. The new armour fit his form like a glove and she found herself becoming mesmerized at the image. the bright, silvery colour shone and the red trim stood out against his tanned skin. She bit her lip as her eyes fell to the chest plate, two golden snakes weaved their way across it and for the first time in her life she found Roman armour to be beautiful.

Batiatus left to make payment to the seller and she slunk back into the corner, not wanting to be alone with him.

She could hear him moving towards her, the leather straps making slight sounds across his body as he moved. "You have been silent today." She risked a glance up and looked into his eyes. The expression on his face was one of concern and she felt the tears burn her eyes. "I know."

His hand cupped her cheek and her body leaned into the touch before she could stop herself. A sigh escaped her lips and she felt herself slipping from the control that she had kept taught during their day at the market. His mouth twitched and opened slightly before her fingers covered it, stopping him from speaking. "Please, don't. Not now."

He stepped back and removed his hand from her face, turning around at the sound of Batiatus returning, signalling that it was time to leave.

She felt his eyes on her during their ride back to the ludus. His inquisitive gaze caused her to bite her lips in an attempt to release the tension that she was feeling from being so close to him but not being able to reach out. He was not aware that she knew of his plan and she wanted a chance to speak with him, to try and convince him that it would be safer for him to stay. But a part of her needed them to leave. If he was to be with Sura she knew she would not be able to stand seeing the two of them together. To see them embrace in such a way would cause her immense heart ache and she was not prepared for that.

But if he took his wife and left, he would be hunted and she was afraid what would come of him if he were to be found.

She ran from the carriage and towards the Medicus, hoping that he would not follow behind her. She paused at the site of Crixus, eyes still shut as he had not yet awoken. She grabbed a bowl of water and some cloth before kneeling beside where he slept, her hand reaching out and wiping off more of the dried blood that had seeped through the mud bond that they had used in an attempt to close his wounds. She was worried for Naevia. Her heart broke at the site of her friend as she cried on her shoulder over the pain she felt at the possibility of the man she loved being lost forever. She had tried to comfort her but the words of a companion could not equal the comforting words of a lover.

She gently wiped the excess bandage off of him before creating a small batch, and reapplying them to his torso. She had wanted to do the same for the great gash on his back, but she was unable to properly lift him to do so. She sighed as her eyes fell on the door frame and saw him standing there.

"Let me help you."

She licked her lips and unabashedly looked over his form as he stood on the other side of the bed, gently pulling Crixus' top half off of the bed. He held him steady as she again, wiped the dried blood away and reapplied the bandages, trying not to grimace at the sight of his injuries.

"Will he live?"

She stood up from her place on the ground, wiping the dirt from her legs as she approached the back table, placing her things down onto the wood. "I cannot be sure." She looked back at Crixus and her mouth pulled into a frown, "he continues to hold fever. I am not certain that alone will not kill him."

She dipped her hands into the now rouge water before pulling them out and reaching for a clean cloth, wiping her hands, ridding them of the added colour. The sound of music and sensual moans drifted into the room and she turned, leaning her body against the table. Ashur had advised her that Spartacus had organized a gathering of whores and wine for the evening as a celebration for his defeat of Theokoles. The other gladiators greatly appreciated the gesture and the opportunity to sheath their cocks but she understood the reasoning behind it. It was a distraction, an attempt to put everyone out of sorts, allowing him to make his escape with Sura once she arrived in the early hours of the following morning.

"You have been distant."

She crossed her arms over her chest and looked away from him. She felt her lips trembling as her emotions swept over her, threatening to take over. She closed her eyes and could hear him coming towards her, the sound of the dirt and sand beneath his feet not allowing him to approach silently. His fingers gently ran up her left arm and she risked opening her eyes and looking back at him.

"What is wrong?"

His hands slipped around her and she could not stop her body from falling into him. She placed her hands on his chest that was now bare and she raked her fingertips down, causing a moan to emit from him. "Please don't go." Please don't leave me. He looked down at her and the guilt he was feeling was evident in his expression. "Ariana -"

"No. If you leave they will find you and hurt you and I cannot let that happen."

He placed his hands on the sides of her face and leaned forward, placing a kiss on her forehead. "I have to try."

She opened her mouth and breathed deeply in an attempt to not let him see her cry. "Please, no. You will be safer here."

Nothing more was said between them and she understood that his mind had been made up and there would be no changing it. She cursed as he turned away from her and left the room, angry with herself for not trying harder and for not meeting him first. Had he not been bound to Sura he would have stayed for her. She would be able to have the man that she craved and not be forced to push her needs down because of another woman.

But she could not be mad at her. It was luck and circumstance that had led them to be together in Thrace, and that she herself had been born in Rome. And she could not be mad that Sura had fallen in love with Spartacus. She was falling for him at a rapid pace, and she understood that completely.


Her eyes fluttered open at the sound of the gate being opened. She hurridly escape her bed and swiftly walked down the hall and towards the outside, the sun momentarily blinding her, the bright light being in stark contrast to the dimness of the inside.

Her heart rate picked up as the carriage made it's way onto the grounds. The thought of coming face to face with the woman that Spartacus had taken as his wife caused her nerves to become erratic. She felt Varro step in beside her and she reached for his arm and leaned into him for support. She heard the door of Spartacus' bedchamber open, and the armour gleamed in the sunlight. He looked every bit like the champion that he was and her heart was breaking at the thought that he would soon run away from her.

It was then that she noticed Batiatus climb the front of the carriage, a look of concern spread over his face. His hand touched the stomach of the driver and he pulled it away, the liquid catching onto his own skin. Her eyes widened as she watched Spartacus run from his place towards the back of the carriage and yanked the door open. Sura had been slumped up against the door, and her head and arms slipped down and into his grasp.

He pulled her body from the carriage and they fell to the ground, her form resting in his lap, his hand supporting her head. She was covered in blood and her instinct to help her took over but Varro's grip was firm around her waist and held her back. Sura's arm was slow in moving but it came up and touched his cheek. "You found me."

It no longer mattered to Ariana how she felt about him. The sight in front of her was heart wrenching and the sound of this poor woman's voice hit her to the core. She would have fallen to her knees had Varro not been holding her up and she couldn't tear her eyes away from the two of them.

Spartacus leaned his head down and kissed her, before resting his forehead against hers. "I'm here. I'm here."