AN: Hi everyone! It's been awhile since I've written fanfiction! I've been working on a first draft for a historical novel and this story has been playing in my head for years and needed to come out lol! I hope you enjoy! Please let me know what you think, I absolutely adore reviews!
Gannicus drank deep from the wine jug that had been delivered to his cell in the ludus he had called home for ten years. He had defeated his opponent soundly today with barely a scratch to himself and had he not been showing off for a nice pair of tits in the stands he wouldn't have even received that. The two girls he had requested chose that moment to come through his doorway and he let his eyes drift up slowly from their bare feet to their bare legs and up farther still. His cock was thickening by the time he reached their all but naked breasts and he began to swagger towards them. Her face stopped him dead in his tracks, the wine jug slipping through numb fingers. The jar shattering snapped the girls out of their childish giggles and they eyed him warily.
Gannicus tried to regain his breathing when he quickly realized the girl wasn't the one who haunted his dreams. She truly did not look like the girl from his past, her hair was too light, her eyes too dark, and she wasn't as tall. Still shaken from the encounter, Gannicus waved his hand, "Go. I have no need of you tonight." When the girls began to protest he bellowed so loud that they shrieked in terror and fled the cell without a backward glance. Gannicus looked down at his shaking hands, then to the wine spilled across the floor and angrily bent down to pick up the shards. Why had he had such a strong reaction? Why couldn't he forget her face, her hair, her body, all of her? He gripped the broken pieces too tightly in his frustration and blood began to weep down his fingers to the stone floor.
Oenomaus appeared in the doorway as Gannicus rose to his feet. Watching the blond haired gladiator, Oenomaus stepped into the small room and asked, "You have never sent women screaming from your cell in terror. What is different about tonight?" Gannicus shrugged his shoulders at his closest friend as he set the gathered pieces down outside of the doorway for a slave to collect. "I changed my mind about company," he said simply as he returned to his bed to sit. Oenomaus knew many things about Gannicus, but this, her, he had kept to himself. Oenomaus eyed his friend carefully, knowing that he wasn't telling the truth, but he also knew that Gannicus would reveal nothing he did not want. "I will ask Melitta to bring another pitcher," Oenomaus said, retreating to the door, "I know you will be in terrible shape tomorrow if you do not have enough wine tonight."
Gannicus nodded his thanks, knowing that Oenomaus did not approve of his drinking habits. When Oenomaus left, Gannicus stretched out on his bed and his traitorous mind returned right back to her. The first time he had seen her, truly seen her as a woman and no longer his childhood friend, he had been sixteen and she fifteen. Her family had been gone on a diplomatic trip to a neighboring Celtic tribe to try and unite against Rome. When she had left he had not seen her because he had been out hunting, but when she returned he had been waiting by her lodge to see how her trip had been. He had expected the dirty faced, pants wearing, rough and tumble girl that he knew. Instead, a Celtic warrior princess had ridden back to him. Her dark hair shone in the morning sun beneath a bronze coronet and she was clothed in the finest cloth he had ever seen dyed a rich green that matched the shade of her emerald eyes. She sat atop the horse like the royalty she truly was and his heart had been lost to her.
Avalina had greeted him as she always did, arms flung wide for a tight embrace, yet this time when her body pressed against his he felt every soft, supple curve that he had never noticed before. He must have stared at her stupidly for too long because she had pulled back and punched his shoulder demanding what was wrong with him. He had been able to brush it off and act close to normal with her for a few weeks, but then they had fought. Over another girl of all things. He had been with another girl from the village to try and convince himself that she wasn't the only one for him and that he could get her out of his head. Just like tonight though, the plan had backfired and he had only succeeded in making the other girl mad at him as well.
Avalina had avoided him after she had seen him leave with the other girl and he had went to confront her when they began to fight. He didn't remember getting so close to her, but the next thing he knew she had stuck him across the cheek. The blow stunned him more than hurt and she stood there with an equally stunned look on her face as if he had slapped her too. He couldn't remember making the decision to kiss her. He just remembered staring at her full lips wondering if they tasted as sweet as they did in his imagination. He could still recall how she had melted against him, her arms snaking across his shoulders and up into his hair as his hands crushed her to him desperate not to let the moment go. They had come up panting for air, their faces no more than a breath apart and from that moment on she had been his.
Gannicus scrubbed his face with his hands, trying to remove the image of her from his eyelids. She was dead. Their tribe was laid to waste by the Romans and he and a few others had been captured and sent to Rome. He cursed her in her grave. Her image kept him from the little peace he had found being a gladiator. He loved to fight, drink and fuck and he had finally accepted his fate, knowing he would never she haunted him still, reminding him that he was a caged animal serving at the pleasure of Roman masters, and the precious peace he found in his situation vanished like mist in the sun. Rolling over to face the wall, he ignored Melitta when she brought him another jar a short while later, pretending to be asleep. He silently thanked her as she pulled up a blanket over his shoulders then left him in a hell of his own making.
Avalina fought against the bonds that clamped so tightly around her wrists. She and her people had fought so hard against the Romans, but the inevitable red tide had crushed their resistance. She herself had killed so many today that she was drenched in their blood, but it had not been enough. The war that had claimed her mother, father, and the love of her life ten years ago had now taken the remaining of her clan and ended their existence. Only she and a handful of warriors remained and were being taken to Rome as slaves. A Roman who looked to be in charge walked past her followed by a string of people. As he past, he motioned to her and called out, "Bring her to my tent."
Avalina struggled against the hands that reached out and grabbed her as she heard her men yell their anger. Terrified of what might happen to her, she tried to clamp down on her rising panic and be the warrior in to whom she had grown. She called out to her men in their native language telling them to be calm and she was shoved roughly down the pathway. An enormous tent had been erected in the middle of the camp and Avalina wondered at the size knowing many homes were not as big. A soldier drug her through the entrance and stood stationary by her as the officer issued orders to others. It took ages for him to complete his business and Avalina listened to every word. She had learned the Romans language years ago and it had proved useful many times. Now, she listened and learned that the legion would not pursue any survivors in the area and would return to their stronghold farther south for the winter. She didn't sigh in relief as she wanted to, not wanting to give away her one remaining card, but she was glad that the few of the village left would be able to move on to safety.
As the tent emptied of everyone but her and the soldier next to her, the officer began removing his armor and spoke to the soldier. "You may leave her. Tell my page to bring a tub and hot water. She'll need a good scrubbing," he said as he moved around the tent placing his things in their places. Avalina stiffened despite herself, but neither Roman noticed. The soldier nodded quickly, "Yes Legate," and left the tent leaving her alone. The man barely looked at her over his shoulder when he called out, "Disrobe." Avalina gritted her teeth, and tried to find a way out. Her breathing quickened and she turned to flee the tent, knowing death would be better than what would happen to her in the tent.
The Legate was faster than he looked and a strong hand twisted in her hair jerking her back and on to her knees. Pain clouded her vision, but when it cleared she saw his black hair and icy blue eyes towering above her. He shook her head for good measure as he said, "I know you understand me barbarian. If you try to leave this tent again I will do nothing to you." Avalina froze and waited for him to continue, knowing there was more. "Clever bitch," he said in an approving tone. He relaxed his hold on her hair and moved to stand in front of her where he gripped her jaw, "I will not do anything to you except make you watch as i dismember each and every one of your friends outside." The chill in his voice rooted her where she knelt down in front of him. She knew he meant it. "Now," he said, "Take off your clothes," as his servant brought in a wooden tub.
Avalina slowly stood in front of the Legate and began to remove her fur-lined boots. More people came in bringing buckets of hot water as the Legate strolled to a chair and sat down to watch her. Humiliation threatened to shake her hands, but she steeled herself against it reminding herself it was his shame to force himself on someone not hers. She drew the tunic over her head and refused to lower her eyes. She watched as his eyes dilated in pleasure at her naked breasts and fought the recoil in her gut. Her leggings were next and she heard his breath hitch as she kicked them aside. The tent was empty of everyone except them now and he motioned for her to enter the tub. Sinking down into the hot water, Avalina breathed a sigh of relief to be out of his direct gaze only to jump almost out of the tub as his hands dipped in to the water from behind her and fondle her breasts. Every fiber in her cringed at the crude handling and when he bent to kiss her mouth she instinctively jerked away. He crudely gripped her crotch in a grip painfully tight while he forced her head back to him with his other hand. "You will not turn from me again. Say it," he demanded. "Say, 'I will never turn from you Legate Cossus'." He waited for her to repeat him, then brought both hands back to her breasts as he kissed the top of her head. She swallowed the tears that threatened to spill from behind her eyes and vowed retribution on all of Rome. Every last scum-sucking one.