Octavia felt a nervous flutter in her belly as she waited for her father to return home. A few months ago, her purchase of a slave would have been a thing of little concern. But the drought had put a serious strain on their purse. It was too hot for the games to proceed as usual, and fewer and fewer were being held as time went on.
Her father had always been an ambitious man. Always scheming, always overreaching. The House of Batiatus had risen and fallen a hundred times since she was old enough to remember, but her father continued on, desperate to elevate their house to something more. To rise the steps of the senate and leave the humble ludus behind.
"Domina," a voice called and Octavia turned sharply.
Her body slave, Melitta, stood before her. There was a panic to her face that matched the urgency in her voice. "What is it, Melitta?" she asked, quickly approaching the woman.
"There are men waiting," Melitta explained, stepping further into the room and grabbing Octavia by the arms. "Roman men, and they appear of a mood. Your father has not yet returned. Stay here, and I will keep them occupied until he returns-"
"Melitta," she said, gripping the older woman's face in her hands. "These Roman men have come to a ludus filled with the most deadly gladiators in all of Capua. I do not think they have come for a fight."
"And if they have?"
Octavia hesitated for the briefest of moments. Her father had more enemies than she could count. It was not entirely ridiculous to assume that one of them would make attempt on the villa. "Have Barca join us presently," she commanded one of the guards waiting outside of her bedroom before following Melitta to the entrance of the villa.
There were only two men waiting for her in the foyer of the villa, and only one truly looked angry. The other, a blonde man, looked her over with vague amusement as she approached. Whoever the men were, however, Octavia knew they were important by their uniforms. She opened her mouth to greet them, but the angry looking man beat her to it. "Are you the one who made purchase of my slave?" he demanded, a tone of authority in his voice that could not be denied.
The question hit Octavia hard as she gave the man a more attentive look. The man she had struck a bargain with had said the slave belonged to Marcus Crassus, but she hadn't believed him, not truly. She believed that Marcus Crassus stood in her home now, awaiting her answer, even less. "I purchased a slave today," she admitted, when she realized she had gone too long without answering. She hated the voice that left her lips, small and timid. She swallowed, trying to gather her courage as she waited for Barca to arrive and bolster her confidence. "I am not certain he was yours."
"A Gaul," the blonde man answered before the other could speak again. "A stone layer by trade, horribly unkempt. More beast than man," he said, looking her over as he subtly approached. "Does any of this bring your man to mind?"
She heard heavy footsteps approaching from behind and let out a heavy sigh of relief. "Yes," she said. "I made purchase of such a man this morning. He trains with the gladiators as we speak, should you wish to lay eyes upon him." She glanced to her side just as Barca reached her, his towering form a greater comfort than he would ever realize. "Barca would be honored to take you to the man."
Without waiting on an answer, Octavia turned curtly on her heel, flashing Barca an anxious look before beckoning the men to follow her to overlook the ludus. She gripped the edge of the balcony as she looked down on her gladiators, hoping that having something in her grips would steel her nerves. "There's your man," said the blonde one, grabbing the balcony beside her, his arm brushing against her own. Octavia swallowed and wondered if it would be cowardly to step away from his looming presence. "Who does he train with?"
"Gannicus," she answered, and as if on command, Gannicus glanced up to the balcony, looking between her and her two companions with a confused expression. "The-"
"Champion of fucking Capua," he finished, looking mildly impressed. While he might have been a fan of the games, it was apparent that his companion was not.
"Fifteen denarii is what I paid for the man, should you wish him returned to you," she said, turning her attention to Crassus, who looked the girl over with an appraising gaze before glancing to Crixus.
"He's worth no more than seven," he stated. Most of his anger had left him upon meeting the girl. He had took the purchase of his errant slave as an attempt at maneuvering him, as some sort of scheme. He hated to be manipulated, especially by a lesser man. But as he looked the girl over, he began to fear himself a paranoid old man. He never would have stormed the poor girl's villa if his man had informed him that it had been a teenage girl who made purchase.
Octavia pursed her lips, wondering what her father would have her do. If she were to purchase a man for fifteen denarii and then sell him for seven, he would be furious. But if she were to offend Marcus Crassus, a man he never would have dreamed to have in his villa to begin with … she could hardly imagine his rage. "In your hands, perhaps," she answered, deciding the eight denarii difference was too much to ignore. "But I paid fifteen for the man."
To her surprise, the blonde man chuckled, "Our lady is either stubborn or unaware as to how poor of a deal she made for the slave. What is it that about the Gaul that holds your interest?"
"I merely see the potential in him that his previous master overlooked," she said. Crassus observed her with a more stoic stare than Caesar, who still looked at her if she were a puzzle he had never tried to solve before.
It was intimidating, but she'd been around powerful men before. She'd seen her mother hold her head up high as she spoke to those above their station about the slaves. She knew she could do this, and besides, they were just men. What else were men but cocks with mouths? Crassus was looking bored, she noticed, and looked on the verge of just letting her keep Crixus.
Until Caesar spoke up, "I have an idea," he said suddenly. "Batiatus has given the crowd at least one champion, it would be unjust to assume his daughter has learned nothing of the trade. Let us give the girl of the ludus opportunity to prove herself."
"How do you mean?" Octavia asked with a narrowed gaze. Crassus mirrored that gaze as he stared down, wondering where Caesar was attempting to go.
"Let the slave fight with the champions."
Her heart lunged at the thought of it. "I've hardly had the Gaul a few hours, he couldn't possibly—"
"A week," interrupted Caesar. "Until the next games are upon us. That seems more than fair, wouldn't you agree?"
"If he survives the arena, how do I know you will press no further to have him returned to you?" she asked, looking at Crassus now. "I will not risk the man's life for empty words."
"All a man has is his word," said the blonde, his eyes remaining firmly fixed on hers, though his hands seemed to wander, exploring the material of her dress, the bracelet at her wrist. It was a weakness of men that her father had taught her to take advantage of, but she faltered before this man, uncertain of whether he was under her spell or simply preparing to crush her with his own.
"And Caesar's is worth very little," Crassus interrupted, leaving Octavia grateful for the diversion. She hesitated in her next step, looking from the first man to the second again. She had found comfort in denying to herself the idea that Marcus Crassus stood in her home, but now the other man had been named Caesar and it was becoming more difficult to lie to herself. She was beginning to feel light headed and terribly out of her depths. "Instead I offer mine."
"Terms well struck!"
Her father's voice washed over her in an awesome wave. She turned to see him rushing to join them on the balcony, her mother close behind. Her father's face held a smile, but her mother's betrayed the concern she knew both of her parents were feeling. "Batiatus," said Crassus. "I presume."
Batiatus nodded, his eyes shifting to Octavia for a brief moment before returning to Marcus Crassus. "Apologies for being unable to receive you," he said. "Pressing matters in-"
A hand raised quick as a whip cut her father off mid explanation. "None required," he said firmly, looking as if he didn't have the patience for an apology. "Terms agreed upon will grow to fruition in one week's time."
"At the games?" asked Batiatus, though his only answer came from a swift exit. Caesar hesitated only a moment after his friend, bowing a respectful head to her parents before joining his companion.
Lucretia waited only until both men appeared out of earshot before rounding on her daughter, grabbing her by both arms and inspecting her for any sign of mistreatment. "By the gods, what were they doing here," she demanded shrilly, though Octavia could not tell if she was asking Octavia herself or her father.
"I made purchase of his slave," she answered anyway, thinking it best to be forthcoming with such matters. "In the market. An errant stone layer, they meant to kill him. I made purchase instead. He trains with Gannicus presently."
Lucretia's eyes flitted down to the ludus, to where the Gaul lay flat on his back after meeting Gannicus's elbow. "You threaten that man's rage for a fucking stone layer," she hissed, more fear than anger in her voice.
"She but seizes the fucking heavens!" her father laughed, grabbing her roughly by the cheeks and planting a kiss on her forehead.
Elbow throbbing from its connection to the new recruit's rather formidable jaw, Gannicus rubbed it tenderly as he looked up to the balcony. He saw Barca standing behind the girl, but their Dominus was nowhere in sight. It was not a common thing for daughter or wife to be home absent the husband and father, and they never had guests during Batiatus's absences.
He heard the Gaul grunt as he forced himself to his feet and lunged for the more experienced gladiator. Gannicus sidestepped the man, this time bringing his elbow to Crixus's shoulder, but meriting the same result of face hitting dirt. He could hear the man groaning beneath him, but kept his eyes focused, even when he saw Batiatus and his wife appear. "Absent full attention, you still best me," Crixus said from the dirt.
Gannicus looked down to see him sitting up but clearly in no rush to make another foolish attempt. "I could best you absent a leg and both arms tied behind back," Gannicus assured him.
"It will not always be so," replied the Gaul. A chuckle emitted from the Celt's throat as he reached an arm down and pulled Crixus back to his feet. "Gratitude," said Crixus, before allowing his eyes to follow the Celt's. "The domina holds your attention," he observed.
An irritated look passed Gannicus's face as he understood the implication in the words Crixus spoke. Had there ever been such a foolish and fruitless affection? What use did Gannicus have for a woman whose touch he would forever be denied? "Put voice to accusation again and see head parted from chest."
Crixus was not sure if this was a realistic threat, given their domina's investment in him, but he could think of wiser things to do with his time than assess the validity of the man's words. "Apologies," he said. "Offense was not intended. I merely stand curious of my new master and her reasoning behind your instruction."
"Do bruises not stand answer enough?" asked Gannicus, looking the man's battered body up and down. Only a fraction of his current lacerations were courtesy of Gannicus. He jerked his head toward the balcony where Batiatus stood, overlooking his gladiators. "Your master stands the man. Octavia is but loving daughter."
"Octavia," Crixus repeated, an odd sensation spreading through him at putting a name to the face.
Gannicus looked at Crixus out of the corner of his eye. It was his own affections for the girl he had masked with accusations, Gannicus quickly realized. "She will be the death of you," he said solemnly, before abandoning a confused Crixus in favor of Oenomaus. "Fucking Gauls," he muttered to the man.
Oenomaus followed his gaze to Crixus before nodding in agreement."Our numbers swell with piss and shit."
"To be remedied swiftly."
A/N: Well damn signs of life in the Spartacus fandom! Thank you so much for your review, Vikihungergame1! I'm glad you've enjoyed it so far and hope you continue to do so! And YOU have a good day too! :P
Before someone comments that I'm an idiot for having Crassus and Caesar in a God's of the Arena era story, yes … yes, I am an idiot. An idiot who hated Tulius and Vettius and does not want to write about them. An idiot who loved Crassus and Caesar and DID want write about them but also Gannicus and came up with the solution of writing a silly fanfic to cater to both of these interests. Don't judge me for being thirsty for Spartacus characters god damn it!
