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Posted March 18, 2014
SUMMARY: Harry lays down the law for Ilithyia; the Commonwealth at last establishes a portal to Harry's location, and he's reunited with his old friends—resulting in a dramatic show of emotion; and Spartacus suffers a serious injury requiring the assistance of a healer...
28: OLD CIRCLE MEETS THE NEW
Unknown dates, 73 BCE / 3 Hearthfire, 4E201
It was the early morning hours a few days later, when Harry crept into the bedchamber Ilithyia was using. He threw up the strongest silencing charms he knew of.
"Ilithyia, it's time we have a little chat," Harry spoke, calmly. The woman shot up, not expecting a man to wander into her bedchamber—particularly not the dark-haired visitor that had up to this point made strong efforts to avoid her advances. Unfortunately, she was to learn very quickly, his visit was not for social reasons.
"Why Harry—"
"Petrificus Totalus!"
Ilithyia felt her arms and legs snap together, so she were frozen like a statue. She couldn't even move her head! What was he doing to her?! Her mind was in panic mode, as the young man slowly circled the bed, smiling serenely.
"Where to begin. Ah, I know."
She found his eyes boring into hers, and a storm of images suddenly crashed in front of Ilithyia's eyes... memories, thoughts... secrets. Secrets she had swore to the gods she would take to her grave... and yet this boy now knew them all.
Harry, meanwhile, snatched at what he saw as the most scandalous secret of all.
"So. You murdered Licinia. I'm sure poor senator Crassus would love to have closure on the matter. Word is, he's been devastated at her disappearance. Offering quite the reward purse for information on her whereabouts."
Though her body was frozen, the pupils of her eyes dilated wildly, and Harry smirked, knowing his words had the desired effect.
"How does it feel, to be at the mercy of someone else, someone with the power to positively ruin all that you and your husband work toward? To know that there is not a thing you can do or say that could stop me?"
Harry let out a chuckle.
"Oh. How rude, we're having a conversation here, and I can't be seen just talking to myself, now."
A gesture with a hand, and Ilithyia found she could move her head.
"Guards! Guards!" she screamed.
"Go ahead, scream all you like. Your shrieks and cries will not reach the ears of others. I've taken steps."
"You take leave of your senses!" Ilithyia shrieked, "Guards!"
"My senses are perfectly fine, tahrodiis mal prakem—treacherous little snake," Harry hissed, sitting on the edge of the bed, "Now. Have I your undivided attention?"
"What... what... what shall you do with me?"
"A question I have asked myself, actually. I debated asking Spartacus about it, seeing as he's the one with the larger grievance with you, but... I think he will be more amused when I show him the outcome of this conversation."
Harry's smile did not reach his eyes.
"Ilithyia Glaber. Time and time again, since I set foot in this house, you have caused numerous incidents, all of which causing great injury."
"How have I grieved you?"
"Casting those hungry eyes at me, coveting my body, mentally soiling my body with your hands and your deeds. I wonder, what would Gaius think, if he were made aware of your infidelity—only mental as it might be—or wait... actually that's not entirely true.
"I remember quite well, the dreadful way you had your hands on me during that visit by your socialites... before poor Licinia was murdered, the poor dear."
"She... she—"
"She, what? Found amusement at your expense? You murdered a friend just because she made fun of you. You act a child, throwing a tantrum every time you don't get your way. Well guess what, dearie? Life sucks. You can't stamp your foot and cry every time it doesn't come out all roses."
Harry blew out a breath.
"Enough about what you have done. The point of my little bedside visit, is to discuss how you will behave from now on."
"And how—" Ilithyia began, finding her voice, but Harry cut her off.
"We'll discuss that momentarily. For now, I will be dictating a very strict set of boundaries. Myself, Pietros, Spartacus, Varro. Make that every other gladiator under this roof. They're off limits. You will not needle Lucretia into summoning them up into this villa for private viewing ever again. You will not look at a single one of them cross-ways. You will not lay hands on them should they be provided for entertainment of other guests. No matter how they may be presented, no matter what opportunity presents itself, they are off limits, without exception. They may as well be dead to you.
"Any plots or schemes you have afoot involving the residents of the house or the property within it, all die here and now. You will cease and desist your slighting and demeaning Lucretia. She is nearly the snake you are, but she has just a little more integrity, and in my books that goes a long way."
"And if I refuse?"
"Oh come now."
Harry snorted, and stood up. He began to pace in front of the bed.
"I know every little secret you try to hide in that tiny brain of yours. The murder of Licinia is perhaps the worst, but you realize there are many others that would bring your downfall, and likely that of your husband.
"You toe the line from here on out, it's that simple. Or I speak to Crassus about his missing cousin, and see you and your husband burn. If I find out so much as a hair's breath about some scheme cast by your hand, no matter what it is, no matter who it involves, no matter how small it may seem to be, you and your husband will burn. You breathe one word of this conversation to a soul, be them living or dead, even whispered to the Gods themselves, you and your husband will burn. I will see that your name is so dishonoured they will order Damnatio memoriae," Harry hissed, his eyes speaking as plainly as his lips. He was dead serious. "Are my words in any way unclear?"
Ilithyia blanched at the prospect.
"You... who would believe you?" she tried, though her mind were numb.
The young man she had so coveted was a demon from the underworld. This much was clear. Harry, meanwhile, let out a laugh.
"Oh come on."
Harry gestured to himself, replacing his robes with the robes of a roman noble.
"Begging your pardon, senator, but I bring word of your cousin's possible whereabouts."
He spoke with an air of importance, and then he smirked, seeing Ilithyia's spirit die just a little more.
"I'll make it very simple," Harry smiled, restoring his clothes. "Don't fuck with me. Don't fuck with Spartacus. Don't fuck with Batiatus or his wife, and we'll get along just fine.
"As to our dealings, to make it plainly clear of where I stand on our relationship. Tibi mortuus es mihi ad. You are dead to me."
Harry could feel the magic take form as it did his bidding, and smirked. It wasn't exactly intentional, but... all the better.
"May oblivion one day take you."
Harry gestured with a hand, and vanished with a noisy CRACK. Ilithyia realized she could move, but she still lay perfectly still, shell-shocked at what had just happened. Here she thought she was being all clever and witty, indeed the snake in the grass, and here appears a shark, capable of devouring her whole. The words would fall from his tongue, and she would face execution, and nothing less, Gaius likely to follow. There was nothing left to do; she simply laid there and cried.
Spartacus was overcome with emotion when Harry allowed him and Varro to view the memory in the pensieve before they went out to the square to begin the day's training.
"I have no words, gratitude is not enough for this thing you have done in my honour," the man spoke, after wiping his face with his hands.
"I acted for the honour of everyone within the walls of this house," said Harry, "Ilithyia has abused the trust and friendship of Quintus and his wife. She schemed and plotted for your injury and downfall. She caused me equal injury, by putting you and Varro in harm's way. I only saw a way to end her mad schemes, before she brought the entire house down around her."
"It is unlikely you could bring about Damnatio Memoriae, though. Such things would only apply to those of much higher station," said Varro.
"Never doubt the capabilities of a wizard," Harry smirked, "Though... gods, there will be a number of people who will frown on what I've done to the woman. The place I was born in, they would call it abuse of a Muggle—err... non-magical."
"You find no complaints from us," said Varro, "Perhaps your action will bring peace."
"All I can hope for. Another reason for my actions. It'll certainly be easier for me to travel about the villa now, without her hungry eyes following me."
"You all but cursed her existence," said Varro, shaking his head.
"I declared her dead to me. The magic will insure that. I can be right next to her, but she won't see me. Now if only I could make her invisible to my sight—"
"And mine," Spartacus added.
"Yes, and yours... thing is, I don't know of a spell that could make something selectively invisible."
"Unfortunate."
"Agreed. No matter, my actions this morning have neutralized the snake for good. She has far too much to lose. Should I return to the world I belong in, I'll be sure to leave a nice package to ensure her ruin. You mind acting as a sort of messenger?"
"It would be my honour."
Frustrated by the nightmares caused by the now-neutralized snake, Harry realized he needed a better picture of what was going on in the household. So it was, that he put most of his schoolwork on hold—not that he had a lot of it these days, considering he'd now completed his sixth grade magical textbooks, as well as his grade ten mundane studies. Now, he attended training less and less, mainly to either teach Numerius, whose lessons came twice a week, or to teach the lesson, also twice a week. More often than not, Harry drifted about the residence and the grounds unseen, as he unravelled other potential problems.
Very quickly he learned about Crixus and his relationship with Naevia. It seemed Naevia had procured a key that opened the lock which separated the villa from the ludus. Their late-night trysts were extremely dangerous—both would likely be flogged at the bare minimum.
Then there came the scheming of the third serpent in the house, the Syrian named Ashur. From Harry's standpoint, the only person Ashur truly stood for was himself. The plot he was hatching? To murder Numerius' father. For what purpose?
Worse still, Harry discovered the man responsible for the delivery of Sura. The man had claimed severe injury at the hand of bandits... yet, one night he lay surrounded by women, his bare abdomen plain to see, absent any scars. Now there was a train wreck waiting to happen. A simple glance at his mind revealed what truly happened: he had murdered Spartacus' wife on Batiatus' orders.
A flicker of rage crossed the young wizard's mind. The man had committed an equally monstrous act toward someone Harry called a dear friend. He was now torn on how to respond. On one hand, Spartacus had a right to know the truth behind Sura's fate. Yet, the truth would likely bring about thoughts of vengeance.
Before settling in for bed, Harry took out another page of paper, and penned another letter. The last time he'd tried had been several months prior. Still, he held hope that, just maybe, one would get through. The note was quite brief, but he signed it, sealed it, and dropped it into the post box.
The following morning, as Harry woke, he found Varro standing at the door to his room.
"That little box of yours takes on a life of its own."
Harry flew from the bed faster than his friend had seen to date, and rushed to the post box. Sure enough, inside it was a sealed envelope with the distinctive seal of the Commonwealth. He clutched it in front of him afraid it would suddenly vanish, and crush his hopes of it being reality.
"It will not open itself," said Spartacus, from the small table. It had become somewhat of a custom for the small group to have breakfast before joining the larger group outside.
"No... it will not," said Harry, his eyes glistening with un-shed tears. He broke the seal, and pulled the parchment from the envelope.
Harry,
We have received all of your letters, but only now can properly communicate back. The Commonwealth has the entire Arcane Sciences department at work with the Orb of Magnus. We'll force open a portal, they estimate likely within the next three to six hours.
Whatever you do, do not venture far from the villa. The S.O.U. Have already been deployed to the current geographical location in our present, along with appropriate support. We know you're frantic, just have a little more patience, and we'll get you back where you belong. Her Majesty has issued a direct order that we will immediately provide a port key back to Skyrim, if that is your wish. No one will ever force you into something you don't want to do.
Sit tight, we're on our way,
Justin
Harry finally just broke down, overwhelmed. The past year had been an incredible journey, and yet, he had been isolated from everything and everyone he had ever known. To see it end, with everything hopefully returning to normal, he was simply held speechless.
"It is good news?" Pietros dared ask.
"I'm... I'm going home," Harry cried.
Both Spartacus and Varro looked a little sad at the news, but they smiled for their friend. Both knew Harry desperately missed those from his own place, his own world.
"Though it saddens me with your passing, know that I am happy for you, Harry."
"Likewise," said Varro, "Your actions have saved my life."
"Both of you, with that particular incident. Come. I must break unfortunate news with Doctore."
"Another who will mourn your departure."
"All of our brothers will equally mourn his departure, Varro."
They joined the rest of the gladiators in the common area as breakfast was served.
"You look unwell," said Crixus, noticing Harry's changed appearance.
"Happy news that is tempered with unfortunate consequences. Please finish up your breakfast, as I wish to address all of you. Not as instructor, but as friend."
"The news you bring is unpleasant," said Doctore, approaching the group.
"It is. I knew this day would come eventually," said Harry, as the group expanded by one slipped out of the common area and out into the square. "Gods... this almost feels like home to me now. But now, there comes a message from my own world."
Harry produced the letter, and allowed Doctore to read its contents.
"The gods bless you with a safe return."
Harry smiled sadly.
"Yet brings me great sadness, since I leave all of you behind."
"The gods have deemed your lessons here concluded. As much as you have learned from us, we have learned much from you."
"The honour was all mine, Doctore."
"Oenomaus."
"Err... Oenomaus. I take all the lessons you have shown me to heart. And I do hope that, even without my magic, my lessons will somehow still be taught."
"We will fashion a method. It has been some time since a gladiator trained in this ludus has fell in the arena. Your lessons are equally taken to heart."
Finally, the gladiators all gathered on the sand, and Harry faced them with a sad smile.
"Today, I finally take my leave, and return to my own world. The gods have blessed me with your friendship, and the instruction your Doctore was willing to provide. I was equally honoured to be allowed to lead all of you in instruction from my own world, used to train my country's fighting men. I have no doubt that all of you would easily swell the ranks of her majesty's armed forces, if opportunity were presented. For that, I say, well done."
He couldn't help but grin, seeing the men all glancing around at their fellow brothers.
"The training you have participated in has—and will save your life. I know this much."
The men all cheered, and Harry again had to wipe his eyes.
"Right. Uh... let us begin our final lesson together..."
The morning lesson was light, as Harry's mind kept drifting to the imminent arrival of his old friends. When it finally ended, the gladiators shouted his name to the heavens as he walked off the square to get lunch. He had their absolute loyalty—though that had been the case for some time by this point. Each man would answer his call. Each would put their life on the line, if required. Perhaps another reason Batiatus had become a little colder toward the young wizard over the past couple of months. Where Batiatus commanded through demand and threat, Harry did so with friendship and reward.
As the afternoon lunch break wound down, there came a noisy crackle of energy from the far end of the square near the small shade. A purple sphere of energy appeared, and Harry instantly produced his blade. It could be the Commonwealth, but it could also be something else.
"Action stations," Harry barked, the face of calm.
The entire ludus moved with swift precision. The box holding the steel weapons was quickly undone, with men arming themselves, and getting into position. Some stood directly with Harry, while others took position about the square. Guards positioned themselves on the balcony and at the gate, weapons also at the ready. The doors into the villa were slammed closed, the windows shuttered.
After the attack by dark wizards, Harry had devised a plan of action that the residence would take, should they face another magical attack. The drills happened at many different times during the day and night, all in the hopes of being ready for the real thing.
Now, the question was, was this the real thing, or was it the Commonwealth, at last able to come to Harry's rescue?
The answer came quickly, and to Harry's relief and hope, it was indeed the Commonwealth. First, came Guardian Elaine, resplendent in her white robes with gold trim. To the men gathered in the square, she looked like a goddess. Then, came Justin, Mazhe, Tommy, Brandon, and Eric. All of them gazed at the men gathered nearby, but Mazhe was shocked as Harry tackled the ginger-haired man to the ground and proceeded to lock lips and deliver a scorching kiss, driven by an unmitigated, burning desire never before felt by the young wizard.
That resulted in a bunch of the gladiators whistling and issuing cat-calls. Not breaking his snogging session, Harry simply flung a purple bolt of magic in a random direction, causing the men to duck.
As the pair finally broke for air, Mazhe looked at Harry, confused.
"Gods... what could possibly... we were only parted for a day at most..."
"My eyes have not gazed upon your face for nearly a year, Mazhe. All of you have been in my thoughts all of my waking hours. Even now, to see all of you here, a small part of me wonders if I have yet to wake, that still I lay in the land of dreams."
"We are truly sorry it took so long. You secured the Orb not long ago, correct?" questioned Elaine.
"As I was directed to, yes," said Harry, shaking her hand.
"It was only once the eye was in its place here and now, that we were able to at last make a connection. Your last letter provided the final piece to the puzzle," Justin explained as they embraced, "Jesus, you have no idea the shit storm you've unleashed with this. The Arcane Sciences Division is going all ape-shit. They'll be studying this for—"
"Justin..." Harry frowned. Justin's face fell. Clearly, his dealings with the Commonwealth were still frigid. Harry's face softened, as he turned to the gladiators. "Stand down, we're clear."
It was a precision motion, as blades were sheathed and shields placed at feet. The house was reopened, and the slaves responsible for the handling of equipment began collecting the weapons and returning them to the lock box.
"You've really been here a year?" Tommy asked, as they embraced briefly.
"Yeah. Or maybe eleven months. Or maybe longer. This point I don't really know."
"The men move with precision. At least six months. Though more, my guess. Jesus, Harry, you've taught nearly two platoons of men here." Tommy was impressed.
Harry grinned, then called out, "Duro! What is the purpose of our morning exercises?"
"A clear mind is set to purpose!" came the German's rapid, crisp reply.
Tommy arched an eyebrow. "You've been teaching the lessons I've taught you."
"Every one of them with your face and your words firmly in memory, Tommy. All that I did here, I did recalling each of your voices while they taught me the same lesson."
Harry found himself again wiping his eyes.
"Each day that passed, I feared that I would forget the sound of your voices, that your faces would suffer an equal fate, that I would cease to remember my first circle. I may have become akin to Doctore here, but all of you... you make me who I am."
"No, Harry. We only provided you with lessons. Your actions alone make you who you are, and nothing else," said Elaine, "No matter your feelings for the Commonwealth of Valicadia, know that we are very proud of the young man you have become."
"Uh, Harry... how about a bit of an introduction? You have your men standing around, looking ready for battle."
Harry grinned a little sheepishly.
"Doctore, may they be released for the day?"
Doctore glanced up at the balcony, where Batiatus was observing. The lanista gave a firm nod.
"Agreeable. The day's training is ended."
"Quintus! Bring your wife down so I may properly introduce you," Harry called.
Batiatus gave another nod, and disappeared into the villa.
"It's only right, the man has been gracious with my presence... gods, I still can't believe I've been here for a year."
"It's quite strange, considering our correspondence was over several hours, a day at most," said Justin, frowning, "Soon as Brynjolf called us on his mobile, I port keyed all of us back to Riften."
"Justin... hold the explanation for now," said Elaine, "Harry, why not give us a proper introduction?"
"Oh, of course."
Harry gave another sheepish grin.
"First. Though Quintus owns the residence, he places the training in the hands of Oenomaus, or the Doctore. To his right, the present Champion of Capua, Spartacus. To his right, the previous Champion, Crixus. And... shit, where did Varro go?"
"I did not see him."
"Ah... anyway, where was I..."
The introductions went on for several minutes, as Harry introduced the entire group of men he had instructed. Indeed, there was easily thirty men present, and Harry remembered each and every one of them.
Finally, Quintus and his wife joined them.
"Lastly, Quintus and his wife, Lucretia, who, without their hospitality... I would have been quite lost."
"His stay has been... eventful," said Batiatus, grasping Harry's forearm in the way of greeting.
"Eventful, both in the good and the bad. I will miss all of you... and I will never forget my time here."
He collected himself once again.
"Now. Friends, brothers... I introduce my first, closest circle, all of which are my instructors. Those who have taught me all which I shared with you in one way or another. The dashing ginger man, is Mazhe, my best friend since I was six years old. Beside him, is Tommy. Justin was my tutor in most non-magical subjects... and the two men dressed in black uniforms, Brandon and Eric, who cover tactical and military training. Lastly, the elegant lady in robes, I present Guardian Elaine, probably one of the most important persons in my country."
The scene was interrupted, as the gates to the square opened, and a pair of men entered.
"Apologies. I must attend business," said Batiatus.
"We will not be leaving immediately," said Elaine, "Our gateway will stay open as long as necessary."
"Perhaps we might retire to the villa, then," Lucretia offered.
"Sounds good," Harry agreed.
"Lieutenant Commander McAllister, and First Lieutenant Gomrass, protect the gateway."
"Ma'am." Both S.O.U. members gave a sharp salute, and took up position on either side of the gateway.
"Spartacus. Crixus. Join me?"
"It would be a privilege," Spartacus said.
"You honour me," said Crixus, as the group began to cross the square.
"You both honoured me by assisting as I summoned the Eye of Magnus," said Harry.
Elaine barely contained the gasp.
"How many participated in the ritual?"
"Five of us, madam guardian," Harry answered, "Myself, Spartacus, Crixus, Pietros, and Varro."
"And I quote, 'It was here that we see a great mage, schooled in magic beyond that of this world, assisted by a group of four mundane friends, cast a portal into the void, and draw forth the powerful magical artefact. It is unclear as to what hand moved them to purpose, but the artefact was simply buried beneath the cliffs on the southern coast of what would be Britain, where it remained for nearly a thousand years.'"
Guardian Elaine was in shock.
"Part history, part prophecy. Another quote, from the same article reads: 'Yet, it has equally foretold that it would be our undoing. For, a thousand years after its discovery, great and unfortunate things will befall us all. It is not written exactly what sort of misfortune will fall on our soil, but all indications bring only the worst, and perhaps the gravest of all, the end times themselves.'"
"I... I simply acted. I knew immediately as soon as I saw the contents of Spartacus' dream, that... that our Orb... was the Eye of Magnus."
"It was meant for you to know and for you to act. Harry, you do not know just how much you now mean to us all. Your hands fathered the Commonwealth. The wording and terms cannot be made any clearer. Each one of you that cast that ritual are revered and celebrated."
"We are but slaves—" Spartacus began, but Elaine waved him off.
"In the eyes of the Commonwealth, you are not."
"This is so much to process," said Harry, his head swimming, as they reached the corridor which led to the stairway up into the villa. Once again, he found his world being turned upside down.
"I just want to be Harry."
"And the gods keep telling you otherwise," said Mazhe, "Face it, you'll never be 'just Harry'. You're too famous for that."
Harry let out an indignant squawk, feeling a hand squeeze his arse.
"Hey!"
The enlarged group settled themselves in the triclinium, and although the pair of gladiators at first remained standing, Elaine produced extra furniture with a gesture from her wand.
"Gratitude," said Crixus, taking a seat on the conjured furniture. It easily matched the appointments already present.
"You have used magic frequently here," said Justin. It was not a question.
"Gods, it still defies belief," said Crixus, shaking his head.
"I'm sure Harry has taken precautions to be sure you don't accidentally discuss such things with people who don't already know about our world."
"As soon as I revealed my gifts to the household—after a most unfortunate incident—I'll share a pensieve memory when time permits—I placed a secrecy charm on everyone. I've also placed secrecy charms on new gladiators when they joined the household—the two German brothers case in point. I've adhered to the law to the best of my knowledge and ability."
"All that can be expected," said Elaine, with an incline of the head.
"Care for some wine?" Lucretia offered.
"If I may instead?" Elaine counter-offered, again producing her wand. A simple wave produced a bountiful platter with bottles of wine and appropriate refreshments.
"Madam guardian knows just a little more about conjuration than I do," said Harry, with a grin.
Just then, there was a noisy pop, and another man in white robes appeared nearby. His robes had crimson trim, but otherwise were identical to Guardian Elaine.
"Master Guardian," said Harry, with a slight bow of the head.
"Elaine, we'd like permission to send a few Unspeakables through."
"Granted."
"They'll be elated," said the man, "I think this is the shiniest new toy they've had since the incident in fifty-seven."
"When we connected with Tamriel," Elaine corrected. She thought for a moment. "It looks like the portal will be open for some time, then. Lady Batiatus, I hope you don't mind playing host to the Commonwealth for just a little while longer, the government will see you well compensated."
"It would be an honour," Lucretia answered.
Though Harry was still pissed at the Commonwealth, he couldn't help but smile.
"Looks like you guys won't be getting rid of me that quickly."
"Guardian Devon. Contact the DMLE, have them send a few Aurors along. And send—"
"I require resupply of my potions stock. Healing potions—" Harry began.
"Harry. Why don't we travel back to Riften, if only for a few hours?" Mazhe suggested.
"It would be no trouble to do so, a port key would work perfectly fine," said Guardian Elaine.
"Good. Though I would like to know where Varro is."
"Perhaps he lingers in your chest," Spartacus suggested.
Harry shook his head and muttered to himself, before producing the item in question.
"You've put our gift to good use, I take it?" Justin questioned.
"Abused liberally, yes," Harry agreed, as he placed it on the floor and restored it to its proper size. He pulled open the lid.
"Varro?"
"What has happened?" came the man's voice.
"I have been searching for you, only to find you've been locked in my chest. Is Pietros also with you?"
"He is."
"How about the pair of you come out? I would introduce you to a few people."
A few seconds later, both men climbed out of the chest, and Harry once again made quick introduction.
"It was the four of them, along with myself, who cast the ritual," Harry went on to explain. "I will share a pensieve memory, once again when time permits. I should also note that, Pietros will be joining us permanently, since I'm his 'owner' here. I will sever ownership when we return to Skyrim for good."
"Harry..."
"Do not tell me it cannot be done," Harry snapped, his face darkening, "How many times did Arch-mage Aren visit the Commonwealth before he was murdered?"
"It is not the same thing," Elaine argued.
"To hell it isn't," Harry shot right back, "The decision was made long before you arrived. Beside the point, you have a lot of ass-kissing to do before I ever forgive the treachery you heaped on Tommy and I."
He softened.
"Spartacus and Crixus are to fight in tomorrow's games, am I right?" At Lucretia's nod, he continued, "I would ask they join us for a few hours. I promise to have them back in the same condition they leave in."
"Quintus—"
"Would likely object, I know. But he knows I would not willingly put any of his men in danger, and where we're going, it's to reconnect with a few important people, and resupply my chest. We will be back before sundown."
"Harry..." Justin warned.
"Leave it." Harry snatched an orange off of the conjured platter and pressed a finger to it. "Portus."
"Gods... not that again," Pietros protested, while Harry collected his chest.
"It gets easier the more we do it. Come on guys, get a finger on it."
"Wait." Guardian Elaine produced her wand. "A translation charm, your friends will need it if you expect them to understand the common language."
"Ah, right. But... you had to call in Unspeakables to do that," Harry remembered.
"Not anymore. The four of you, if you'll hold still a moment. Your tongue and throat will feel funny for a minute or two," Elaine explained. The four of them glanced to Harry.
"It's perfectly safe. She's more than trustworthy."
"Very well done, Harry. You've taught them about the dangers of allowing a stranger to cast spells on them."
"One of the first things I taught them."
Guardian Elaine was more than proud of the young wizard, as she set out casting the proper charms on his new friends. It seemed like, this had been some sort of test for the boy, and by all indications, he had passed with flying colours. To teach thirty or more individuals—she had glanced at the four gladiators' memories as they all sat there—the wizard had taught them about combating a magical threat, taking advantage of the surroundings... non-magical combat strategies... good grief, the very things Brandon and Eric had taught Harry months before. He'd effectively put thirty gladiators through basic training.
"All right, boys, that should about do it. No more than a few hours, Harry."
"You have my word. All right, guys, get a finger on it." Harry again held out the port key.
Mazhe, Justin, and Tommy quickly did so, with Spartacus, Varro, and Crixus following. Pietros reluctantly followed suit.
"Activate," Harry commanded, and the group vanished in a blur.
"Good grief, has that boy ever changed," said Elaine, staring at the spot Harry had been only a moment before. "Now, to business. We'll see to the first bit of compensation, as both you and your husband have the thanks of the Commonwealth for looking after our favoured son."
"I admit, the young mage will be missed," said Lucretia, as she led the imposing visitor to the business office. A pair of guards followed at a respectable distance, as did an Auror, dressed in the traditional crimson robes.
Turdas, 3 Hearthfire, 4E201
The large group landed in the cistern, just outside the Ragged Flagon. It took a minute before everyone regained their feet. The four gladiators all looked around in awe, knowing they now stood in a different world than their own.
"Mazhe, d'you mind visiting Elgrim's Elixers? The potions supply in the chest is bare. Likewise, Justin, I'll need you to take a port key back to Trevelyan. The standard potions stock. Include anti-Cruciatus potions, it's something I've neglected—"
"Harry." Justin looked at his young friend with worry.
"Casting the ritual. I now know exactly what that curse feels like, as do these guys. It doesn't tickle."
Mazhe only gave his friend a tight squeeze on the shoulder, before walking over to the pub, which took up the latter half of the cistern.
"I will return shortly," said Justin. He produced something from his pocket, and vanished.
"Another port key," Varro guessed.
"Exactly. He carries a few of them, just to make it easier."
"Is travel by the other method possible?"
"From here back to Trevelyan? No. We're in truly a different world. Apparition would never work in that instance. A port key is the only way to pass between worlds. And even had we remained in our own, travelling from your time to mine—Gods, I still have no clue as to how that actually works."
"Uh, ditto," said Tommy, "until I met Harry, I thought time travel was bullshit."
Harry could only grin. His old friend was in the same boat as his new ones.
"Come on, I have a bit of business with another friend."
"Where are we?" Spartacus asked, as they began walking.
"Tamriel, or specifically, Skyrim. Though the Commonwealth of Valicadia adopted me, I grew up here. Though not in precisely this place... perhaps if I have the chance, I'll introduce you to the place I actually grew up in. For now—"
"Harry, glad to see you return safely." A tall, gruff-looking Nord stood by the sign that marked the unofficial boundary of the pub.
"I return with spoils to the profit of the Guild," Harry smirked. A gesture of the hand replaced his robes with his guild armour.
Harry found Tonilia seated at her usual spot, on a raised platform that suspended itself over the water.
"You return to us in good health," she greeted.
"And I bring spoils," Harry grinned, gesturing with a hand, and summoning a small box. He set it on the ground, and gestured again, restoring it to its original size. It was almost as tall as he was, roughly four by four feet wide and long.
"The kid is gone a matter of days, and he once again hauls in a king's ransom. Who pissed you off this time?" Vex questioned.
"Only the nastiest sort. Never mind the man, his wife was a right nasty little snake who I had great pleasure in opening her eyes to the ways of the world," Harry smirked, removing the lid from the container.
This now had the attention of Delvin, as well as Vekel, who gathered around to see what Harry had 'collected' this time.
"This all came from Glaber's villa? Jupiter's cock, Harry!" Varro looked scandalous. "If word should ever reach his ears—"
"And whose tongue will spill the words for his ears to hear?" Harry gave a vicious smirk. "The price this will earn, I accept only a quarter of the profit. Let the rest be placed into the guild's coffers. I draw satisfaction knowing the guild earns profit from the transgressions of a pair of foolish individuals."
Spartacus, meanwhile, carried a nasty smirk of his own, already aware of Harry's deed.
"Was Glaber the only target of your thievery?" Varro dared ask.
"He was. Though there were certainly a few people I had considered targeting, in the end it always came back to Ilithyia and her schemes. Everyone else was simply caught up in her web. Now that I have taken steps, she won't be causing further issues."
"Simple robbery will never stop someone from scheming, Harry," said Tommy.
"No, but visiting her bedchamber in the middle of the night and threatening to end her and her husband in every way possible, most certainly will. The snake had plots on top of plots, Tommy. By rights, she's a witch of the worst sort who deserves to be burned at the stake and put out of her misery."
Spartacus outright laughed at the visual, while Varro looked rather uncomfortable. Being a roman man, and an honourable one at that, he was most uncomfortable at the suggestions his young friend was making.
Harry blew out a breath, calming himself.
"Gods, that woman drives me mental. It's a wonder she didn't slither into the room while we met a while ago." He brightened. "Anyway. Friends, this is Varro, Spartacus, Crixus, and Pietros. They're new friends from the place I've been, uh, somewhat trapped in for the past while."
"Is their presence temporary?" Tonilia asked, as she pulled another box out of the crate.
"Likely. Though Pietros will be staying with me permanently. Now... uh, guys," said Harry, turning to his new friends, "My good friends, practically family... Tonilia, Vex, Delvin, Vekel, and the gruff man by the gate is Dierge. He's somewhat the bouncer around here—uh, security, I mean."
"Ah. The meaning is now understood," said Spartacus.
A door opened in the back, and seconds later, another individual joined the group.
"Good to see you back in one piece, lad."
"Brynjolf. Thank you for alerting the others of my circumstance."
"You're one of us, I would not have done any different had it been Mazhe—by the Eight..."
His eyes fell on the enormous crate Tonilia was busily unpacking, and he let out a chuckle.
"Another fool has felt the sting of your sticky fingers, it seems."
"I cleaned out the moron's villa, so yeah, pretty much," Harry smirked. "Any engravings and identifying marks have been removed, so everything should fetch a more than fair price."
"The word 'moron', its meaning escapes me," said Pietros. That got equal nods from the other gladiators.
"Asshole. Fool. Idiot. Stupid. Take your pick, it all means the same," Tommy answered.
Harry only grinned, shaking his head.
"You lot have virgin ears, when it comes to modern language. Anyway. Vekel. I'll need to replenish my stock of your specials."
"I should have a fresh batch ready tomorrow afternoon."
"The games tomorrow," Spartacus reminded him.
"Right. I'll likely not be able to come back for them until day after, then. Subtract the cost from the profit I earn from this latest heist."
"Harry. You do not pay here," said Vekel, firmly.
Harry huffed. "Normal people pay for their goods and services."
"Harry," said Tommy, "You'll never be normal."
"Fuck off." Harry said it with a smirk, though, all in good fun.
"In the meantime, how about you all have a seat and let me serve up a few bottles of mead?"
"Sounds good. Though I'll want to also visit with Remus shortly, let him know all is well."
It was late afternoon before Mazhe returned, though he struggled with a large case. Harry was quick to help him with it, and produced his chest. Once inside, the potions cabinet was unlocked, and the shelves restocked.
"How much did it cost?"
"Nearly five thousand septims," Mazhe answered. "I did cover it, but..."
Harry shrugged, and summoned his coin purse. "Gods, that's a lot of coin."
"You lack the coin to cover your debt," Pietros assumed.
Harry only shook his head. "No, I have more than enough coin to cover it, it's counting it out."
"Allow me," Mazhe offered.
"Gratitude." Harry handed him the coin purse.
"You trust him?" Crixus asked. He'd parked himself on one of the couches, content to open another bottle of mead, while Mazhe placed the coin purse on the table and began pulling out coins.
"My circle, I trust without question. Just as much as I would now trust any of you... or Oenomaus."
"You will find, Harry does not give out trust easily," said Mazhe, "And for good reason."
"He has told stories of his misfortune," said Crixus.
"And he's probably also told you about the dangers of trust."
"Covered recently, actually," said Harry, "After the incident with Varro... or an incident just prior. Nasty set of circumstances, I almost left the villa for good after that."
"Batiatus would sooner be parted from his cock, than to see Solonius profit from your presence, Harry," said Varro.
"I spoke to the man. My immediate assessment, he's got much more integrity than Batiatus. The man knows his standing within the world, and remains happy with it. Or, well, perhaps not with his unending losing streak on the sands of the arena, but in other matters. The schemes of Batiatus border on frightening."
"When we got your second letter, we immediately went back to Trevelyan—though I wasn't all that happy about the idea," said Tommy, "It was full research mode, so we know somewhat about the House of Batiatus. I think I can safely say, they're in for a world of hurt in the near future, and it's got nothing to do with us."
"I remember my history, Tommy. I know exactly what is coming. And before I forget."
Harry reached into his rucksack, and pulled out a shoebox-sized package, then passed it to Spartacus.
"Dark times are ahead, for all of you, as Tommy says. When the time comes, you will find the contents of this box extremely helpful."
"We are not allowed—" Crixus began, but Harry held up a hand.
"Spartacus. Tap the box with a finger."
Spartacus looked at Harry, confused, but did as asked. The box instantly vanished, though he felt the weight of something around his wrist.
"Some rather advanced transfiguration and charms work. Perhaps one of the last gifts I will be able to give you, but you'll find the things within useful for all of you. I have to protect my students in some way. Now, I should warn you, none of the contents will actually help you escape from Batiatus' grasp, but... there will come a time you will be free of him, and then, you will understand."
"Is that part of the future you cannot break words about?" asked Crixus, reaching up to rub the back of his head.
"It is. And though I ask a lot, you and Spartacus have to work together, and set aside any differences. You've worked together for me. Now I ask you work together for the future. You are both the best gladiators in the ludus. Lead the others... together."
Crixus eyed his rival critically. The past year had seen many changes. As much as he loathed the Thracian, he held the equal amount of love and respect for the young mage who had landed amongst them during his darkest days. It had been Harry's healing hands that had brought Crixus back from the brink of death, his spells that had ensured he would one day return to the arena—that day now just a sleep away.
"In another life, perhaps you and I would have been as brothers."
"We share the brand, Crixus. I believe that makes it so in this one," said Spartacus.
A smile tugged at the corners of Crixus' mouth, and he offered his arm. The pair of them grasped forearms, the acknowledgement of the truth.
"Let us leave past transgressions behind us, and begin anew."
It took nearly a half hour for Mazhe to count out the right amount of coin. It was about that time, when Justin also returned, bringing with him a full potions stock.
"And how much did it cost?"
"The government covered the cost."
Harry only gave a nasty smirk. "One instance where I don't mind someone else footing the bill. Anti-cruciatus potions included?"
"You're about as well-stocked as a small apothecary at this point, Harry. It's getting on four o'clock. Probably best if we get back to Batiatus' villa."
"Not without seeing Remus. I did promise to be back by sundown. That's still a few hours away."
The visit with Remus ended up taking the next few hours, even though for now, Harry kept his explanations brief. There would be ample opportunity for such things in the days to come. So it was, as the sun set, the group returned to the villa by port key, to once again land in Spartacus' expanded cell.
Stepping out into the square, they found that two different members of the S.O.U. now guarded the portal, while a team of mages and scientists, along with a number of Unspeakables conducted studies. Indeed, it was a shiny new toy to them.
"The Commonwealth has been busy," Justin noted.
"And Batiatus won't be pleased. This is a distraction," Harry muttered, "They'll have to put some kind of disillusionment charm on it before training begins in the morning. Not to mention, tomorrow is training for Numerius—"
"Not tomorrow, Harry. We go to the games," Pietros reminded him.
"I guess we do. Uh, don't know how that's gonna work though. Only room in the Pulvinus for so many people."
"Harry, the Commonwealth is taking this as a spectacular opportunity to study history. You'll find Quintus will be quite accommodating, as will a number of people here," said Justin, "Remember, we have ways of obtaining the right outcome."
Harry hid his scowl, moving to cross to the villa. His friends quickly made to follow. His mind was in another place. Now that he had his old circle back with him, there was no hurry in packing up. Though... there was the matter of Miraak.
"Mazhe... what happened with... I mean, we were about to..."
"Our mission at Nchardak. It was a scary thing when you didn't come back. We waited there in the reading room... until Brynjolf called us. Justin immediately made a port key that carried us back to the Ragged Flagon, and once we'd read the letters, it was another port key back to Trevelyan. They wanted to leave me behind—"
"He threatened painful curses if I continued to think along that line," said Justin. They had reached the stairwell leading up into the villa. The four gladiators had followed behind, and as they attempted to follow, a guard roughly stood in the way.
"And where do you think you're going?"
"Excuse me!" Harry turned around, hearing the exchange. "Those four are with our party."
"We'll have Guardian Elaine place an Auror there," said Justin, as the guard scowled and stepped aside.
The villa seemed to be rather busy, with a number of ministry officials about. Batiatus and his wife were found in the triclinium, appearing to be in their element, as they entertained, Naevia and Mira attending as required. Harry did not mask a groan that escaped him, spotting Ilithyia amongst them. A small part of him wished for her to attempt one of her tricks, so that he could exact revenge. To say but not do, what was the fun in that?
"Harry. Welcome back," said Guardian Elaine, rising to greet him. "It was a good afternoon?"
"Very much, my lady," Harry answered, grinning. "Uh. I'm not sure if Quintus has mentioned it or not, but there are games tomorrow, and—"
"We're aware of your previous plans to attend. They are somewhat your students, as Quintus has been explaining," Guardian Elaine answered.
"Which brings forward another thought. Whatever work the Arcane Sciences Division is conducting on the portal... unless they cast disillusionment charms and such, it will prove a dangerous distraction to the men training. Last thing we need is for someone to be injured due to such things."
"That will be dealt with appropriately. Both disillusionment charms and proper barriers will be in place to protect both the Commonwealth's workers, and the men while they train."
"The men are trained to work through distractions, but some things, such as this, would kill all productivity. Nothing would be learned."
"Spoken as a true instructor," said Brandon, wandering over.
Harry gave him a half-smile, and the exchange was not lost on Batiatus.
"I've taken my lessons to heart, and given the amount of time I've been here, I felt it more than appropriate that I share. I'm quite certain the House of Batiatus truly boasts the best-trained gladiators in the Republic—if not some of the best-trained period."
Guardian Elaine shared a look with Brandon, knowing that would be a potential problem. Meanwhile, she gestured to the four gladiators. "Come. You're welcome to share in appetizers and wine."
Lucretia hid a look of disdain, while Batiatus momentarily frowned. Sure, it was his house, but yet Harry and his countrymen seemed to run the show. They were amicable enough, but... their use of magic, and the way they seemed to be able to just... coax others to do as asked... it was disconcerting. And now to find out that their portal was some sort of fascination and would not be removed in the short term... that further irritated the man.
The evening grew late, and Guardian Elaine finally bid her farewells, and vanished via port key, along with a number of other officials from the department.
"It is rather late. We should turn in, Harry," said Mazhe, "If there is to be a busy day tomorrow."
"A fair assessment. Your rooms in my chest are still available... though—"
"We have our own beds to fall into," said Spartacus.
At Justin's curious look, Harry explained, "The last while, they've been borrowing your beds."
"Ah, of course."
"If we overstep—" said Varro.
"Think nothing of it."
"Come on, guys, we descend back into the bowels of the ludus," said Harry, in a sing-song voice, getting laughter from his old circle, and another barely-hidden scowl from Batiatus.
Trailing behind the others, Spartacus didn't see the truncheon which suddenly impeded his left foot as he made to descend the stone steps. A terrible shout, and a crash left him in a heap at the bottom of the stairwell.
"Spartacus!? Bloody hell."
Harry was kneeling beside him in a split second, while Mazhe flung his hand at the wall, providing a bright light to properly illuminate the scene.
"Gods... he's out cold." He glanced up at the entrance way at the top of the stairs, to see a shadow quickly vanish.
Justin calmly pulled out his mobile, and punched in a number. "Medical emergency... no... yes... stairwell to the villa... yeah, send Healer Ferris along." He clipped the phone back to his belt.
"Get him laid out flat," said Tommy, pushing in to be beside Harry.
"I know... just..." Harry drew his wand. "Petrificus Totalus!"
The magic did its work, and Spartacus became a statue, with his arms and legs straight.
"Jupiter's cock, what now?!" Batiatus now stood at the top of the stairwell, staring down at the chaos.
"He fell down the stairwell. We've got it in hand, a healer is on her way," Justin explained, "He'll be just fine."
"He fell down the stairs, Justin!" Harry hissed, "If he's got a concussion, he won't be doing much of anything for the next while, you know that."
There came a noisy pop from outside, and seconds later, a familiar healer in lime-green robes entered the scene.
"Mr. Potter. Good to see you again although regretfully under these circumstances," she said.
She immediately assessed the scene.
"Good. You've immobilized him." She drew her wand, and levitated the injured gladiator. "The infirmary here will likely be inadequate. Where does he sleep?"
"This way," said Varro, at last daring to speak. "Gods, of all the misfortune that one might suffer..."
"At least the fall wasn't fatal," said Tommy, "Jesus Christ, he could have died."
"Could have, but didn't."
"Gods, what has happened?" Doctore hurried to join the procession, as they crossed the square to Spartacus' cell.
"Fell down the stairwell. Alive, but knocked out by the fall."
"Most unfortunate. Apologies, I must break words with Dominus."
"He already knows," said Harry, scowling, "Though he might want to have alternate plans in place for the Primus, just in case."
"Your thoughts equal mine." With that, Doctore hurried back across the square and into the ludus.
Healer Ferris, meanwhile, levitated Spartacus onto his bed, which was then quickly changed into something more appropriate. She reached into her kit, and pulled out a series of potions, before beginning a basic medical scan.
"Gods... cracked skull, fractured right forearm, twisted left ankle—"
"There are likely a number of older injuries, due to his, uh, profession," Harry warned. Healer Ferris turned and gave him an icy look.
"Which one of us is the healer, Mr. Potter?"
"Oh. Uh, apologies."
He made a sour face, then turned to Crixus.
"If he's unable to attend the games, I have no doubt you'll take his place. Are you ready?"
"I have long been ready, Harry. I long to return to the sand."
"But not in this way."
"No. I would regain the championship honestly."
Healer Ferris, meanwhile, let out a sigh.
"Well, Mr. Potter, your fears are correct. At least a second-grade concussion. The injuries, I can easily fix, but he won't be doing much for the next week or so. I'll leave a proper supply of headache remedies, which he will certainly need, and I'll return in the morning to do a better assessment."
"Gratitude."
"And you, Mr. Potter, also have an appointment with me, so I can assess where you might be at these days—it's not negotiable," she said, sharply, "Your closest friends are concerned."
"Fine."
"I know you still harbour anger toward the Commonwealth, but whether you want to accept it or not, there are a great many of us who care about you—not because of the symbol you have been made out to be by some, but because of who you are, and who you have become."
Harry blew out a breath.
"I... I guess. Still, it's not right, what happened to Tommy. I... it's been a year since I, since we learned of the treachery. It'll be a long time still, before we forgive or forget."
"And carrying such anger does no good for your soul," said the healer, as she continued to work on Spartacus' injuries.
Tommy let out a snort. "Fuck off. Harry, d'you mind producing your chest, so I can disappear?"
"Sure." Harry fished out his chest, and placed it against the wall before restoring it to proper size. Tommy wrenched open the lid, and quickly climbed in.
"Seems I might be setting up an appointment for him too."
"You can't force him."
"He needs to vent those angry feelings, Harry."
"When he's ready."
"Healer Ferris. Just checking in," said an Auror, sticking his head in the doorway.
"Everything is fine. I'm just about done." She waved her wand one more time just to be certain. "That should take care of his physical injuries. I'll return early in the morning to take a further assessment."
"We leave for the games mid-morning."
"No matter what my assessment, your friend here won't be participating in any sort of physical activity for at least the next two days. My orders. And that's likely to be adjusted. Expect him to be out of action for at least the next seven to ten days."
"Great. Batiatus is going to just love that prognosis," Harry muttered. 'And whoever caused this will be crucified,' he thought. A pensieve memory would need to be drawn once he was awake. "Thank you for your prompt response and assistance, healer Ferris."
"You know how to reach me. I'll see you all in the morning." And with that, she left the cell.
"Right. Guys, let's get some sleep."
Descending into the chest, Harry quickly realized there would be a small problem with the accommodations. Pietros had taken to using Mazhe's room, but that would no longer be suitable. He didn't seem at all upset by the idea.
"I will happily occupy a couch until alternate accommodations are provided," said the young man.
"Uh, no you won't," said Mazhe, "You're quite welcome to continue to use my bed, since I won't be using it."
He cast an eye toward Harry, who looked confused. Tommy, meanwhile, smirked, knowing full-well where Mazhe was going.
"What?" Harry asked, the interaction lost on him.
"Gods, you can be so daft at times," said Mazhe, shaking his head, "How did you greet me this afternoon?"
"Oh. Well..."
He shuffled back and forth, as the memory hit full-force.
"I, uh, my body moved absent thought. I didn't mean to put you on the spot—"
"Harry, your actions betray your words," said Pietros.
"At least he's over the crush he had on Tommy," Justin grinned.
"Fuck off," Harry scowled, but was again surprised as Mazhe seized him about the waist, and proceeded to reciprocate the scorching snogging session they'd engaged in upon meeting earlier that afternoon. And Harry once again felt the raging desire and longing he'd felt earlier. Mazhe might be five—scratch that, four years older, but really... they had been practically joined at the hip since they'd first met.
As they finally came up for air, Mazhe smirked, and said, "I'll be sleeping with Harry from now on."
"I... gods..." Harry was still out of sorts from the interaction, and quite honestly, he didn't know how to proceed.
"This is new territory for the both of us," said Mazhe, "But I think we can both agree, we're on the same page. Now that you're old enough..."
Harry slowly nodded, still somewhat in a daze, as they made for his room. The idea was completely foreign to him: the thought of another being, another person, sharing a bed with him. Well, at least a normal bed. Oh sure, there had been a number of occasions the pair of them had been jammed together on the same mat, bundled up to keep warm, warming charms being nearly useless in the sub-zero cold Skyrim could throw at them. That didn't quite count, since it was out of necessity and self-preservation.
That night brought comfort above and beyond what the young wizard had experienced up to this point, and now he knew: his best friend had become his first love. As to whether Mazhe would be Harry's last and only love, that remained to be seen.
UP NEXT: Harry and his old circle attend games at the arena, and there, Numerius and his mother get some unsettling news; Spartacus gets another check-up from Healer Ferris... and Mazhe has a final showdown with Miraak... resulting in at least one rather unusual ally.
CHAPTER NOTES: So, Harry's finally found love. I should note, their relationship won't have a lot of 'screen time', since I prefer not to focus much on intimate relationships and so on. It'll come up sometimes, but infrequently, since this story is more action-driven.
Now that Harry's reconnected with the Commonwealth (at least in a small way), things will somewhat get back to normal. For the next little while, the two worlds will interact (the Commonwealth would be very interested in the portal, given this would be only the second time that such a connection has formed)