I hope everyone is staying safe and smart during this time! This one-shot also came to me while on my trip in 2019, (I'm sure you can guess where) but has been sitting incomplete on the mobile.
I've moved the one-shot into this collection so it's likely to be familiar to many of you.
Enjoy!
One Day More
Droplets of red ooze like liquid stained the ground as a soulless body joined the growing pile; a hunter marking one more to the list before another unworthy crossed their untimely end. The bronze weapons were thick heavy tools of combat and useless in the hands of pitiful slaves. But fight they did for it was all they could do in hopes of one day seeing freedom. Freedom that came with living. For inside that arena; it was only survival. The sounding thud barely registered in the hunter's mind, another smear of blood added to the tunic while the adorning crowd of thousands raised their voices to the gods.
Nike was gracing her favourite gladiator a worthy victory day.
In the imperial box, a half wall higher than the sands of battle; raised goblets accompanied the cheer and wine coloured the robes of many drunken nobles. What little did make it to waiting lips only added to the drunkenness action.
"Another great slay!" They would cry out in a stupor, what little mind hazed over by alcohol and wanting the most praised champion to kill again. Wine and death; two very enjoyable things in Rome.
"I wager the next will die before reaching the gate!" A man fumbled verbally while laughter filled the enclosed stand to the chagrin of one silent attendee.
"Perhaps falling onto their own sword would be faster, wouldn't it?" The drunkards howled again causing the lone, uninterested figure to reposition herself and try to concentrate. They may be for festivities; she had work to accomplish however.
"My dear noblemen...you're disturbing my niece." Voice of the overlord was cold, empty and while seemingly pleasant in tone, his words pierced the heart like an icy blade. The Senate quickly calmed themselves and gave their leader the most humble of apologies. It was unwise to ruin the Emperor's fun.
Tomlius Voldemortis I, Emperor of Rome was pleasantly enjoying his most favoured sport. The violent gladiatorial deaths and sounds of agony filled wails were a treat for the keen senses on any given day. What was a few slaves to a man of his power? What were a few peasant lives to the enjoyment given to his loyal citizens?
Knowing his darling wife enjoyed more of the games than even any other, sweetened the empowering sensation. To the ruler's right hand side sat the beauty of an Empress, her regal dress so luxurious and form fitting; men fell to early graves under orders of 'disrespect' in her presence. Suspicion heavily directed upon her 'darkness' as the cause of it because whatever the Empress desired, she took. Her mass of raven black hair sat atop her crown in a knotted mess but it only added to the allure.
"You are enjoying yourself dear one, yes?" Again his voice cut through the atmosphere; it caused shivers to be repressed and a hardened resolve to form.
"Of...of course my liege..."
"Love, stop distracting the girl and allow her to finish her work." When the feminine tone interrupted, there was a moment of silent tension before the Emperor chuckled.
"My deepest apologies Bella." The ruling man lay a kiss to his wife's hand, the moment of distraction passed and the arena's entertainment once again, the main focus.
Situated not feet from the royal couple was a young girl. She was a youthful beauty, just turned her sixteenth summer and ready to welcome the trials of womanhood; if only her possessive guardian would allow such a thing.
"Pet, come here. Let me see how you've done." The auburn haired girl had to obey; for the woman was not only her aunt but her Empress. "Ah, magnificent painting. Your talent has once again captured my lustful gaze. Such a good Pet you are." The Empress ran her clawed fingers through the brunette waves that framed the girl's face. It was the same reward every time. The same portrait created; the same obsessive gesture to prove just whom she belonged to.
"Thank you auntie." Her voice was quiet, polite and very soft; which only caused the ruling woman to dote her 'love' onto the child even more.
"Look at you though. Not a goblet in sight and undernourished. Fenrius; get my Pet a drink."
"At once my Empress." If the suffocating air wasn't given by the overbearing woman, it was by that revolting giant of a man. Fenrius Greyback, the Emperor's war general, an ex-gladiator and foreshadowing presence in the girl's life. If the brunette could wish for one thing... "Here you are...pet." The taunt infuriated her, while a hand accepted the item she did not look at him and ensured no physical contact was made via the goblet. "Hmmm...Those hands you have make such wondrous art, child...I do wonder what else they're capable..."
"Fenrius." The undertone was enough to have the man remove himself, but the vileness of his words echoed anyway. Bella's hand shifted from the crown to the girl's neck and shoulder, claw marks trailing over her delicate skin. The canine like monster continued to creep ever closer to her darling little pet; why her husband demanded he guard her was incomprehensible. Hermione was hers and no man would touch her! Ever.
Hermione once had an innocent life; one of simplicity and freedom. Her parents, common farmers allowed her to roam their fields at leisure and worry for naught. A single night of relentless flame took all of it away. Saved by only the grace of the Empress; her mother's distant 'cousin' had the young Hermione managed to grow and not in the slave trade like so many before her.
Bellatrix was not a hard to please guardian; her requirements of the young thing were fairly simple. Never to run away from the palace, always make her happy and never allow another to touch her body; specifically any man. Hermione always found her aunt to be slightly obsessive in that respect and the brunette was still none the wiser as to why. What made the girl so special?
Those long sharp claw like fingers trailing her skin, the way black eyes followed her every move; the sound of her hyena like laugh at the most unexpected of times...Hermione had been the best behaved child of the palace; a few slaves not worth mentioning and she never caused a fuss nor problem. Perhaps she could've cleaned up her scrolls every now and then but...
"Look Pet. Your champion claims another victory." The clawed digits once again traced her scalp, bringing the artist back to the real world. Brown eyes were astray, reluctant to respond.
"I've not claimed that champion per say..."
"Must I explain this again Pet?" When Hermione shook her head quickly the dark eyed woman smirked.
"If they win another bout of matches or against another champion...perhaps I can ask the Emperor for freedom...how would you feel about that?" Bellatrix watched her darling little thing with a keen eye; waiting for a sign but just as she raised the child, not even a flinch.
"Many have survived the arena before. It isn't impossible for it to happen again; even the mightiest." Came Hermione's carefully constructed reply. Bella only laughed at this as her pride grew to new heights. Accompanied by mild irritation.
"But then who would you visit in the underground?"
That caught the youth off guard, not only for the realization but the words were whispered so close to her ear. "I know you favour that fighter. Your drawings depict such passion and vigour...the details of the muscle, skin, eyes; the ones you hide away from me...should I perhaps condemn them to another decade of service and burn all your paintings?"
"No!" Hermione responded immediately, having turned towards the Empress with wide transparent eyes. The emotion, power within those depths frustrated the ruling lady like no other and her hand once again clasped around the slim neck. So easily breakable. Her fingers dug into flesh, indents from the claw like accessories caused Hermione to clench her teeth but say nothing else.
"What do you see in that slave? What do they have that captures you so Pet?" Bella's face leaned in to but a breath away from her charge.
"Everything."
The underground was a hallow place of darkness and despair. The walls weren't thick enough to drown out the monstrous cries and with every gladiator beneath the Colosseum wallowing in the echoes, their only reprieve was in the name. Their chants for a champion.
"Harpy." A gruff voice came from one cell. "They call for you. For your blood, little lady." The fighter sneered, the scar dividing his face looking sinister and grotesque but his supposed victim didn't care. What was a low worm beneath the ground she walked?
"Leave her alone Barrios. She's counting the heads after today's fight. Many more than you I'd wager." Another man spoke from the adjacent cell. He too wore many scars; proud medals of respect in battle. Barrios grunted at the younger fighter, angry his only entertainment was taken so soon. What else was there to do in the pitiful place than listen to the exotics animals whine?
The Harpy. Rome's biggest celebrity, the fighting woman whom has not only captured the people's hearts but many heads; human and animal had no difference. The mighty gladiator slave ripped into her prey with three large, ferocious knives; the crowds calling her the creature of legend after the last battle cry in victory. Never did the fighter remove her helmet though; not until well secured in a cell and soldiers far from sight. Only fellow slaves and lifeless bodies saw the face of the champion.
The one exception; a lone noble girl.
"Harpy. You have a visitor." The shadowed head shifted and blue eyes gazed upon the shapely form of a benevolent goddess. A true lady of scholar and wisdom, a woman of knowledge and captor of hearts. The one thing keeping her alive through the trails of death.
"Fleur." Hermione whispered the name. The fighter released the clasps holding her mane of blonde hair, the haste of actions which caused nimble fingers to drop the armoured piece carelessly.
"'Mione." Her voice was rough; partially impaired for lack of use and education. The tall woman had wanted to reach out; between the bars that separated them but it was thwarted by a snarl of an imposing shadow.
"Watch yourself Harpy. She's not yours to touch." Fenrius sneered from the rear wall causing both women to glare in his direction. Sadly it was true and Hermione would do everything to ensure there was no reason to punish the woman she'd come to care for.
Especially now. She were so close to freedom; a life without cells or guards. Hermione knew the tiniest thing could ruin the final battle or take their heads.
"Yet." Fleur said, challenging the beast of a man; enjoying the fact it took seconds for a reaction to surface.
"General." While the command of a precious 'child' wasn't that of his master, Hermione knew there was some power to her direction. The General stopped himself from reaching through the gate. Bellatrix had commanded the beast to 'protect her' after all; not start a fight. "Rome wouldn't favour you harming with their champion. She still has crowds to entertain."
"If she survives dawn." Fenrius snarled, a nasty yellow teethed grin taking over his features. Hermione tried so many a night to not imagine the day coming but with her dreams of a life on the other side; far from the city walls with the woman she loved…
Fleur had been a slave for eight years; taken from her northern home as a child and placed into the arena as a means to entertain the spectators until the fights continued. Underestimated and forgotten, it was an astonished sight as a blonde thing, full of boundless energy took up a sword without hesitation and drew her first blood. While fate remained uncertain as the northerner grew from a girl to a woman; Fleur remained strong and battled to survive. All to outmatch those seeking to kill her and get the next shred of food. It wasn't until a faithful day in spring that changed the loom's design.
The fighters had been training since dawn; their wooden swords clashing violently, striving for excellence and the chance to win fame in the arena. The lone female; nearing thirteen summers was seated in a shaded dirt spot; her slotted time would come later but until then, shackled limbs didn't budge an inch. Dull eyes saw little of the world around her, meaningless images and thoughts were nothing to a slave with no name. That was until the Emperor himself visited the Gladiator School. It was a most unexpected event causing a lapse of organizational activity and a turning point in two very different livelihoods.
Grasping firmly to the robes of her aunt was a ten year old brunette, still adjusting to a life of high status, royal outings and scared of every imposing soul around her. Hermione never strayed from Bellatrix's side and feared doing so in a place like this; until she saw the blonde youth. Hermione was still an innocent; she knew not what the fighters did, had never seen the bloody arena and having seen a sad girl sitting alone, perhaps a gift would cheer her up.
A simple flower picked from the roadside.
When an unknown guard smacked the delicate flora away before the brunette could get close enough and stomped it into the dirt, Hermione's shriek of horror captured all the attention. While the loathing Empress shielded the child in her robes, an excited war general got to unleash some pent up energy onto the unworthy man; proceeding to break his arm in three places gleefully. No one noticed the trampled plant be delicately picked up by slim fingers.
One moment of peaceful kindness had changed everything and from that day, the blonde wanted to live. More than just surviving hell.
She gave herself the name Fleur, after the gift, as a new fire burned within; her only wish now to meet that innocent being once more. Many occasions following did the slave gaze upon the precious girl and her entourage. Their presence always caused a stir and Fleur took her every opportunity to prove herself; gain entry to the games and maybe one day she'll see her beloved deity in a calmer setting. For that what she'd become; a goddess of salvation.
On a special day, a festive gathering for a fourteenth year, was held where the best of the best came together to perform before their Emperor! Animals, fighters and champions of the people all had their moment in the arena. At the high of the sun the Emperor called out a match no one had expected. A Champion fighting a Champion; in honour of his niece as it was for them they celebrated. Without forewarning the young brunette was called forth to pick her champion and the barely of age girl was scared beyond her wits, responsibility of picking a fighter whom would surely die in a moments pass. Then, before any words spoke, a figured stepped out of line, willingly claiming the right before the crowds. It was Fleur.
Almost immediately a noble lord offered his fighter for the match and with a roar the battle began. When the young woman, not even eighteen summers of ages with blood pouring from her shoulder and a gauge in her thigh that needed attending, stood victorious over her enemy she pleaded for but a single prize.
"I ask…hear...my Mistress' name?"
Since that day Hermione had found many excuses to visit the underground; the home where gladiators awaited their fights and healers patched up the lucky wounded. Over screeching animals and roaring crowds, the two lost souls found something in each other. A shared loss of home; of life. Two years passed; Fleur was close to winning her freedom and with it, her goddess incarnate. If all went according to agreement...
"The Emperor grant me a final night. Final prize." She said directly to the General. Fleur's speech barely improved over the time she'd been observing the noble but it was better than first attempts. The man only growled in return before taking his place once more against the far wall.
"I will pray to Mars for your death Harpy." Fenrius chuckled darkly while Hermione looked to the blonde with horrified tears. Their eyes met through the metal barrier; Fleur wanted nothing more than to brush those fears aside along with having just one touch...
"Harpy! Time to get back to your quarter. M'lady, the masters are recalling now..." The guard's tone dramatically changed between those he addressed knowing full well to whom he was speaking.
"Be gone." The young woman's voice was final. It effectively send the man on his way while brown orbs remained on her beloved. "Please be careful. When dusk comes tomorrow I expect you to walk out of this arena...alive."
"For Mistress..." Fleur replied softly, uncaring to the observing guard. Hermione knew she had little time left and in doing so reached out to brush her fingers against the fighter's features. Be damned if she cared for her aunt's wrath later; she needed to feel Fleur. At least once know she was warm and alive. Immediately following she turned and exited the underground cells, her dress flourishing in her wake. With dawn came the day of battle and Pluto would need to kidnap her personally to stop the brunette witnessing the fight.
Dawn came slowly for the young woman, heavy from a seemingly sleepless night and empty for the upcoming battle. With evening hours spent at her aunt's possessive side followed by a eerie darkness, Hermione barely found the energy to rise as the servants attended her. Wrapped in the newest garb, a delicate wreath placed upon her locks, the noble girl endured the needless pecking from the evil woman before following obediently. The Colosseum awaited no one but the Emperor and he, like his citizens, were lusting for blood. Their champion's final battle: a real sight to behold and hopefully a life won.
Seated, a servant at the ready with her tools should the artist be called upon, there was an enlightened absence of deathly musk surrounding her. It took a moment for Hermione to figure out whom; Bellatrix however, found it most amusing.
"He isn't here Pet. Calm yourself." Twirling a strand of hair, the Empress enjoyed the discomfort she created in her niece.
"Have you let him loose upon the guards again Empress?"
"Oh no. Something a little more...entertaining." Hermione didn't like the woman's tone nor the glint in her eye. "You see, there was a last minute change in the battlements..." Brown orbs widened as her focus instantly shifted to the sanded ground below and the crier ready to give his opening speech.
A hard twang resounded throughout the underground causing animals to snarl and captives to flinch in fear. The predator was stronger than them all; a towering mass of muscle and vile corruption. A shadow of death in his wake.
"Are you ready Harpy? Today is your last."
"In this cell." Piercing blue orbs shot back towards the monster of a man. "I fight for freedom. I kill."
"You'll die."
"No. I see the sun. Your blood will stain the sands, not mine." The growl in response could rival that of a ferocious man-eating tiger but Fenrius did little but stand over his opponent; as much as the cage would allow.
The challenger faced him without fear and never turned her gaze till he vanished from the block. It gave the blonde a moment of reprieve as the situation now dawned upon her. Her blade would soon cross that of a monster. One whom would make or take her life. But for her angel of grace, she would fight till her last breath.
"Goddess. Watch over me." Fleur whispered as the guard unlocked her cell. The fight begins.
Golden flakes shifted as each step drew her closer to the light. With every foot came the sound of voices. Roaring cheers and thunder of drums; their anxious energy became the pounding beats of her heart. As the Harpy finally emerged from her cavern, the crowds were ablaze and petals fell to her feet. The Colosseum had never erupted like it before which caused the noble girl to believe even the gods above heard it all. As she sat upon her gold encrusted seat, a fingers twitch away from her overprotective aunt, Hermione's breath hitched. The size difference between the two alone was haunting. Against the mountain of muscle and scars, her love was but a toned body of fluidity and praying to her patron, the brunette only wanted her alive.
"Let's see whom stands victorious after this. Hmm pet?" Bella's dark voice was followed but a slight cackle just as her husband stood from his throne. With a gesture the countless souls silenced to hear his echoing voice.
"Today we witness the final battle of our champions! Be it victory or death! One shall fall here before you." The Emperor's empty gaze fell onto the female with a cold smile. For he knew the claim that particular gladiator sought...but was he willing to give it? "The Mighty Alpine Wolf! And The Ferocious Harpy! Let the battle commence!"
The Wolf donned his helmet as the air was once again drowned in noise. Wailing of cries accompanied by mighty stomps; all to praise a favoured warrior. Through the opening, Fleur watched her foe closely. His massive limbs were primed and ready; but for their power, the muscles also gave away his moves as she clearly dodged his first strike and blocked the following. Fenrius was a solid warrior; his past accomplishments in the arena were fought and won through power alone. The large blade easily cut through flesh and bone to which he used to great effect. Though he wasn't as daft as many assumed. Adorning his other arm was a heavy shield, thick metal twisted together to protrude in three rows of spikes. Given any chance, the man would gladly puncture his opponents body with them; taking pleasure in the screams to follow.
Fleur wasn't so keen to face the monster head on. She knew her skills lay in speed and shallow but multiple slashes of her knives. However, the makeshift claw contraption wouldn't suffice alone; grasped firmly in her right hand was a sword. An extra blade to use against the man standing between her and freedom. Her first assault succeeded with a gash running down the Wolf's arm but it had no effect to the warrior as he came at her again and again. Blow after blow and even smacking her down by his shield. The crowds wavered as Fleur barely dodged a swing, rolling away mere inches from losing her head before standing again. He wasn't giving the Harpy much room and the citizens were loving it. The fear and trepidation was exhilarating; for one young thing, it was becoming too much.
Hermione had shifted in her seat almost as much as the fighters had moved about the sand. Hands shaking at the amount of strength it took to keep herself there. Dared a glance at her guardians, the entertainment capturing them effortlessly and while Hermione was relieved to be free of such attention, she feared them more than ever. If they weren't willing to keep to...
No. The youth refused to think the horrors her aunt could scheme. Fleur would be free. They would be free! Outside the walls, society would at least allow Hermione to visit an enriched champion without judgement or guard. But that all lay on the bleeding shoulders of her soulmate.
"Dear one. Come here." A mighty shiver passed through her spine as Hermione gathered strength and close the distance to the mighty throne. The Emperor wasn't a man of emotion; he shunned it more than gave it and perhaps a mild exception of his wife, never had he touched another. Not even the brunette; until the tiniest pull of a hair strands caught Hermione unaware.
"Do you believe she will win?" His voice cold, calculating. "The Wolf is a rather proud and deadly opponent. Every slave has been gutted well before death...that last blow was rather...deep."
The vile creature was tormenting her. While Fenrius battled her love on the sands below, Hermione had to face a snake; one she couldn't defend against.
"She'll win."
"Oh? You believe Mars will guide her hand in the moment of death?" The man chuckled darkly, eyes now on her hardened face. She was a tiny thing, fragile enough to break but stubborn.
"Nike will bless her with victory." Turning slightly, causing the captive strand to escape his touch. The noble glared at him with darkened orbs. "She's my champion. The Harpy will survive."
"Hmmm..." Was all that sounded before attention returned to the fight and the inspired audience.
The armoured participants were gravely injured as rivers of blood flowed, staining the ground beneath them. Fenrius had lost his headgear and from the large gnarly gash, his left shoulder was useless. Roaring in aggravation after her last attack, the man flung his shield; Fleur's smirk was hidden under her mask but the barbaric attack that followed left her with little time to react. The raging swings were wild, unbalanced and vicious; what he couldn't hit only made the Wolf grow angrier. Barrelling into her smaller form, the gladiator giant grunted through the pain with a heavy breath.
She would die. The pathetic slave would die! He'd kill her!
Fleur's mind was ringing with the sounds of metal and cheer; her own breaths barely more than a touch of wind upon the sands beneath her. Every bit of strength she had left was fighting against gravity; blood soaked leather and chain weighed heavier and heavier upon her weakened body. Blue eyes glanced to the enemy. The man was barely more than she; tired and angry. This was meant to be her fight...
No. It was more than that. The blonde slowly gathered herself; the quivering muscles took longer to stand upon but she did it. Sandaled feet steadied her again; a starting point and soon focus was back on the creature barely hanging onto life. This wasn't just about her; Fleur's existence may be at a blades edge but she wouldn't fall knowing her goddess remained in the hands of those vile beings. They would live a life together! Outside of stone walls! Away from chains and monsters who think they can cage them! The still helmed head swivelled slightly to stare at the Emperor's box. There she could see the mighty ruler himself and beside the throne, her love. Her existence. The Harpy let out a gut wrenching war cry.
For the crowd filled Colosseum this was what they had waited for. The mighty champions' history of such feats was always accompanied by this echoing sound and them, just as eager to join it. The laboured man only grew confused as the slave gathered her wits. A new vengeance; a second wind to fuel her fire and without warning she rushed him. Her dagger like blades were furiously swiping at his unprotected side as all Fenrius could do was block her larger weapon feebly. The sharp ringing of metal was met over and over again, their blazing glares locked for the split second it took for blade to meet flesh. His sword into her shoulder...and her claws into his neck. With a spray of crimson, the once mighty wolf fell to his knees and howled his last.
The Harpy claimed her victory.
What happened next; the fighter wasn't sure. Blood had flowed long from her wounds and her mind couldn't follow in its haze. The endless applause carried, the heavy weapon no longer in her grasp but what she could see over the lifeless body was the glowing form of a descending beauty. Be it the angel to guide her onto the final plane of rest or her rewarding guardian, Fleur didn't care. The gentlest touch to her bruised skin was enough to calm her aching spirit.
"You did it. My champion..." Hermione whispered through tears of joy. Her love was alive, beaten and clawing to the last of it but breathing still. "You have won your freedom." carefully undoing the buckle, the mightiest gladiator to walk the earth was unveiled. Her shimmering hair and stunning if swollen features open, the sight of which caused the noble another hasty breath. Catching her hands, a faint smile returned.
"I have our freedom. No more…" Fleur grunted, looking almost relieved to finally say it. Hermione's confusion remained until she glanced back at just where the slave turned to. The Empress was a rightful mess; anger and loathing radiating off her once beautiful form but she could do nothing as the Emperor himself watched them in a somewhat gleeful way. Catching Fleur's gaze, Tomlius I, Emperor of Rome chuckled to himself before waving a hand.
"The mightiest has fallen. The Harpy has won her life and that of the girl. Be gone with you now. Before I change my mind." His words sounding over the arena floor as the far gates opened wide. Gasping is disbelief, brown orbs looked to the barely standing figure.
"Free." Hermione latched onto her champion tightly.
"Yes. Fleur; free."
The next chapter for Living the French Life is piecing together slowly. I get it; impatience gets the best of us sometimes but rest assured, I'm doing my best. Plus I've been working on a lot of different one-shots. As always, your reviews are welcome!
Keep safe. Stay inside. Be smart. We'll all get through this together.
Midmoon Kitsune out!