Authors note:
I know that this battle doesn't EXACTLY follow what happened, so don't say anything about it. As for Commodus knowing about the wound on Maximus' arm, some guards that were there had told him about it. Don't comment about that, either…any questions, ask me in a review. Thanks, please review!
He could still feel the searing pain in his back as the platform rose. He pretty much expected that. He could hear them cheering his name, but the yells of the crowd were distant.
Maximus looked at Commodus for a brief moment, the emperor standing opposite him seemed so…sure…so confident. The scattered light on his white armor gave the appearance of an angel sent to protect…at least in Maximus' opinion. But no, he was exactly opposite that: A demon broken through the gates of Elysium. Commodus noticed Maximus' gaze and returned it with a glare.
They rose, emerging into the center of the arena, the guards immediately scattering to make a rectangle surrounding the Emperor and Former General.
The two walked towards the middle of the rectangle, each grabbing a sword from a guard as they passed…Commodus walking in great strides, Maximus weakening with every step.
Finally they reached the center; the emperor whirled around, cloaks flaring out under him. Maximus stood where he was, swaying slightly. The two looked like quite a match for each other…one looking so powerful, but the known powerful one looking weak.
Commodus made the first lunge, sword held in front of him. Maximus, though his energy was quickly draining, met him head on. The clash of metal sent the crowd into a cheering frenzy. Maximus raised his sword, Commodus blocked. The two continued, slashing, blocking, lunging, for maybe fifteen minutes, when the emperor lunged a final time.
Maximus caught his arm with his free hand, slamming his elbow into the side of Commodus' face, and at the same time letting go, allowing the emperor to topple into the ground. Commodus looked up just in time to roll out of the way and dodge Maximus' blade. He sprang to his feet, sword once more at the ready, and lunged again, once more meeting Maximus' fist. He ignored the pain and swung his sword. Maximus quickly blocked and swung his own sword horizontally, slashing the emperor's arm and causing him to drop the blade.
Commodus staggered backwards, holding his arm and watching Maximus. The stab earlier had clearly worked to his advantage, as Maximus was looking tired. The Emperor watched his opponent carefully, himself unarmed and his enemy still wielding his blade. Maximus released his sword, letting it fall to the ground and into the sand with a muffled thud. His eyes seemed to glaze over, he blinked, only opening his eyes halfway…but from what Commodus could see, they had a glassy look to them.
Maximus took a wobbly step forward, Commodus instinctively stepping back to avoid any attack that may come. The Gladiator reached put his hand forward, reaching for something that wasn't there. Commodus eyed him for a moment, slightly confused, unknowing that Maximus was reaching for the invisible door to Elysium. The Emperor quickly regained himself, looking to the head guard.
"Quintus, your sword!" He shouted, taking a step in his direction. Quintus didn't move. "Give it to me!" He yelled, still louder. The crowd had gone deathly silent, no longer cheering as they had during the sword battle. "Give me your sword, Quintus." Commodus ordered, trying to calm himself down, knowing a temper could be his demise. Yet, Quintus remained unmoving. The agitated Emperor started at him briefly, and then turned in a backwards circle, looking at all of the surrounding guards.
"A sword, give me a sword!" he shouted, almost desperately. Then Quintus stepped forward, and Commodus turned to him, not allowing his hopes that he was going to receive help appear in his expression.
"Sheathe your swords! Sheathe them!" He commanded to the guards, they all obeyed as one, almost like robots. Commodus' hopes turned once more to fury and loathing as Quintus stepped back to watch the fight once more. So, everyone was in on it, even his head guard.
The Emperor turned back to Maximus, who still stood with his arm outstretched. That's when Commodus remembered it, his last resort…He pulled a dagger out of his sleeve, glaring at his childhood friend, and once more lunged forward. Instantly Maximus snapped out of it, grabbing Commodus' wrist, and holding him fast as his elbow made contact with the side of his face.
Maximus moved his hand so it was over the Emperors and tightened his grip, so that the Emperor himself was holding the dagger and was unable to let go. He forced Commodus' arm back, so the tip of the dagger was aimed at his neck and slowly began to push it forward.
As the dagger neared his neck, Commodus began to desperately punch Maximus weakly in the sides. His eyes widened as he realized something, the wound…not the one from earlier, when he tried to escape…the one on his arm. Commodus raised his free arm crossing it over the two other arms fighting over the dagger, and scrapped it against the daggers blade accidentally as he did so. It ripped through his sleeve and raked against his skin. He grunted softly as he did and jerked himself backwards with force as he swung his arm to hit Maximus' upper arm, jus above where the mark of the legion would have been. All his energy went into the last blow, so all he could do was hope that it had worked.
It took a few long seconds for Maximus to register the blow. The two stood staring into each others eyes, waiting. Then a wave of searing pain hit Maximus, far worse then the stab wound from earlier…worse than anything he'd ever experienced, this pain was the world…he let go of the Emperors hand and fell to his knees, grasping at his arm as the staggered backwards, slashing his dagger across Maximus' face. He threw it out of his opponents reach and then ran behind him to grab one of the fallen swords. He picked one up, turning to face his once best friend, and walked forward. Maximus, dazed at the blow to his face, looked into the sand where his blood steadily dripped. Then he looked up, into the sun, into the spot where Lucille and Lucius sat.
Commodus stepped behind him, raising the sword above his head. Maximus could feel Commodus there, and remembered this position. This was exactly how he'd planned to have him killed so long ago…maybe the same trick would work.
Lucille, who'd been watching with tears streaming down her face, covered her mouth as she began to cry harder. Lucius watched intently, knowing what had happened. The love of two men had driven them into madness…into death.
Maximus quickly rose to his feet, planning to head-butt Commodus in the face as he'd done the last time he was like this.
Lucille's cry of "Maximus!" echoed through the silent crowd as Commodus' sword drove through Maximus' back and tore through the middle of his chest, the blade a mass of crimson blood. Maximus looked down at the blade, feeling no pain, but realizing he'd finally reached to door to Elysium.
"Shadows…..and dust…." He whispered, quoting his former owner, Proximo, just before the sword was ripped out of his back. And with that, Maximus fell forward, silent and unmoving.
Commodus looked down at the body, no emotion sweeping through him. He looked around; Quintus started down at the body of his general, and looked utterly shocked. Then Commodus looked up into the seat for his sister and nephew. Lucius hugged his mother as she sobbed openly into his shoulder. The crowd itself was silent as death.
He threw the sword to the ground, blood from its blade staining the ground the instant it touched the sand, then walked through the opening the guards had made for him, and exited the arena…Commodus…the Victorious…
That night, Lucille sat in her room on her bed, tears still falling into her open palms that lay in her lap. She looked up at the locked door for the twentieth time that hour, her eyes red and tears streaming down her face; her brother had locked her in, not allowing her to see anyone.
Quintus lay in a pool of his own blood, bruises scattered along his body, blood pouring from gashes, from his nose, from his lips, and from his mouth. His left hand lay open and reaching for the dagger that was but a few feet out of reach…the dagger that may have once saved his life…but no longer; the savage beating delivered from the Praetorian guards under Commodus' orders had ended his life, and now his body lay in the open walkway as a warning to all who so much as thought of betraying their Emperor as he had done himself.
Gracchus, too, lay dead, collapsed on the side of his chair at the dinner table, thanks to the work of a slow poison applied to his food. Gaius was frozen in his bed, eyes wide open in shock, next to his silent and still lover. The snake had done its work very well.
Each of the senators lay on their own, each dead. Executed for treason. All the senators but one…Falco stood obediently next to his emperor, he was pretty much the only one that remained faithfully loyal to Commodus through everything that had happened.
Commodus sat on his throne, leaning slightly on his left arm, staring ahead with a look that exceeded anything to do with power in his eyes. His look was something of fury, yet satisfaction, as he gazed through the open doors and into the blood red light of the rising sun…