In Veritas Memento
Rating: NC 17
Disclaimer: I own nothing. All aspects of Spartacus: Gods of the Arena are owned by Steven De Knight and Starz. This is for pure entertainment value alone.
This story takes place after the episode Missio, yet it veers completely into an A/U after the events of that episode. I am a huge fan of the series Spartacus; however, my favorite character is Gannicus. This is his story.
Warnings: M for a reason. This story is much like the show. It contains bad words and smut! If that is not your cup of tea, turn back now. Although, if cussing and nude scenes offend, are you sure you're a fan of Spartacus?! ;) Hehehe. Kidding. Anyhow, you've been warned.
Pairings: There are multiple pairings, and Gannicus has more than one partner in this story, however, Gannicus/Melitta is endgame. If reading Gannicus with multiple pairings offends you, again, turn back now.
A/N: This story has been rewritten, so, do not be surprised if much has changed if you have already read this.
Chapter 7: mulier est hominis confusion: Woman is a man's ruin.
Gannicus was surprised when Melitta was assigned to accompany him back to the barracks. She attempted to make eye contact, yet he avoided her gaze. His thoughts were overly burdened between the bargain struck with his new mistress and what had transpired between them in the triclinium, to what had happened between Melitta and himself just yesterday. He had somehow become a whore to be fucked or commanded to fuck, and he cared not to see his shame reflected in her beautiful brown eyes.
They were silent as they made their way down the stairs that separated the villa and the ludus. As the guard unlocked the heavy Iron Gate, Melitta stood next to him and her scent wafted across his senses stirring both his blood and his heart.
Why was she still here? Did she not grasp how her presence tortured?
The door swung open and Gannicus went to step inside. Melitta was still with him and he paused in the threshold, a questioning brow raised. "Do you not return to the villa?"
"I would have words...if you are agreeable?"
She had avoided him as if he stood as leper previously, yet now she wanted to break words? Gannicus was torn between wanting to be close to her and wanting to get away from her simultaneously. "Melitta…" he sighed, shaking his head. He was in a foul mood and still felt strange due to the Roman cunt drugging him. "I am troubled of thoughts and my head feels like mule kicked it. Is this of great importance?"
"It is. If it was not, I would not press issue, Gannicus."
He sighed in frustration but nodded just the same.
Per Domina's directive, Melitta needed privacy to question him. She could not go to his cell, but… "The men are all training at this time of day, so the bathing chamber should be empty. Yes?"
"It should," he agreed, "but why do we not simply break words here?"
Melitta did not reply, instead she headed down the corridor to the large chamber where the gladiators bathed, knowing he would follow. He did, although he was beginning to worry about Melitta's purpose, and said so. She paused at the entryway, her eyes surveying the huge chamber. It was private, but not too private. Melitta asked the guard to give them a moment and the man (following Lucretia's orders) moved several feet down the corridor, away from sight and out of listening range.
She stepped into the large room and Gannicus followed, more than a little anxious at what was so important that she would seek him out and request private discussion.
Once they were alone, Melitta was suddenly unsure how to proceed. Domina wanted her to discover Gannicus' point of contention, and yet, to do so she must broach subject of what happened with that Roman woman earlier. She had neither the will nor desire to hear details of him with that woman, so how was she to learn of his distress?
Gannicus began to fidget as the silence lengthened and grew. "I would ask if you brought me here to share bath, but in light of recent events, I'm thinking that is not your purpose."
Melitta sucked in a sharp breath, shocked he would make light of circumstance forced upon them, and Gannicus recognized his error as soon as he said thoughtless words. The opium must have indeed addled brain to make him say such a thing and instead of coming out as teasing jest, (as he intended) his words fell far short of being humorous and created tension rather than alleviating it.
"Apologies, I meant to tease, not wound."
"Are you never serious?" she asked and the disappointment in her voice was obvious.
"Upon occasion," he said. "However, since I am not the one who pulled you aside, perhaps now would be perfect time to explain reasoning behind this private meeting."
Melitta paced back and forth as she tried to put her thoughts into order, however, getting words from brain to mouth was proving to be a more daunting task than she had anticipated. Her mind kept replaying that woman's voice moaning his name; it caused distraction. Should she speak plainly regarding what she heard? How could they have honest discussion, if she did not balance scale with equal integrity?
Watching her pace was making his splitting head ache worse, so Gannicus sat on one of the benches by the bathing pool, waiting for her to come to point and break words. When the silence continued and the tension between them had reached near unbearable level, he found himself getting annoyed with her. He could be in his cell right now, or better, sparring with one of the men. Perhaps, proper workout would make him feel much better and go a long way in ridding him of frustration.
"Melitta," he said, drawing her attention. "You dragged me in here, so state fucking purpose. I cannot take your silent pacing another moment."
Her eyes widened at his words and tone; Gannicus immediately felt like shit for speaking to her such a manner. "Apologies again," he ran a hand across brow, wishing (again) that the Roman had not slipped him the opium. It was making him tired and ill-tempered at best. Maybe sparring was not for the best in present condition. "I told you I was in foul mood, but I do not have right to take it out upon you."
"I stand at fault as well. I asked to have words yet hesitate to bring thoughts to light and share them. I will come to purpose," she said, trying to approach desired topic without eliciting details of the encounter. "I understand you have been placed in difficult position of late. Forced to perform acts you had no desire to perform, however, you cannot allow present circumstance to create such turmoil within heart and mind. It will only cause added burden of punishment to fall upon weary shoulders."
"And why should I be punished? I have completed each task set before me. I do as commanded, Melitta. You, above all others, should know this."
He was angry and lashing out. Perhaps, the woman had demanded he do an unnatural act. "What did she do to you, Gannicus?" Melitta asked, becoming more worried for him by the minute.
"Do you mean besides slip me opium laced wine to induce me to present cock for her pleasure and threaten me with most degrading consequence should I refuse to become her plaything?"
His list was atrocious, but one thing stood out to Melitta. "She drugged you?!" she gasped. Narcotics for a gladiator was beyond foolish. One slip, either mental or physical, could result in grievous injury or even death. What was the woman thinking? "That bitch! Does she not realize how dangerous that is for you? Why would she do such a thing?"
He shrugged, the effects of the opium still in his system made him feel strange, as if he could not control errant tongue. "She wanted me relaxed." He grinned, but it was not his 'charm' smile. "To have her way with me."
Melitta had heard rumors of opium being an aphrodisiac to some and suddenly images of Gannicus fucking that woman and reveling in the deed assaulted mind. It made her stomach clench unpleasantly. "Did you enjoy servicing her?" The words were spoken without thought and she could have bitten her own tongue for voicing them, especially in a manner that sounded very much like wounded jealousy.
At her question, Gannicus's eyes widened comically and his brows shot to his hairline. "Why would you ask such a thing?"
It was too late to silent foolish tongue, so Melitta raised her chin and brazened it out. "I told you, I ask because I am worried for you. Being drugged and forced to…" She shook her head. "I understand foul mood now. Why has Batiatus allowed such dishonor into this house?"
His brow furrowed, and he gazed at her intently. It was more than that and he knew it. She had sounded jealous. It intrigued him. "Is worry over my circumstance the only reason, or do you feel stirrings in your breast for me as I do for you?"
Melitta looked away, unable to answer that question and he got up from the bench to stand before her. He cupped her cheek. "Tell me you feel nothing for me, Melita. Break those words and I will never ask again."
Desire loomed within her at his touch and Melitta flinched, pulling away from him.
At her reaction, Gannicus' expression became shuttered and he allowed his hand to drop. "I forget I am only allowed to touch when commanded to do so," he said stiffly.
Melitta let out a pained gasp and Gannicus immediately felt remorse. His head lowered. "I did not mean that." She would not set gaze upon him, and he sighed, running a weary hand down his face. "Melitta, what is it you want from me?"
She could not tell him how conflicted she was, it would only make their situation worse. "I feel concern for a dear friend," she said, hoping he would accept her answer and not delve deeper. "I am worried for you."
He snorted. "And that is all I am to you…friend?"
"Gannicus…"
"No. Do not placate me. For a moment, I believed you were jealous, but your reaction to my touch has disabused me of that notion." The opium was truly making his head ache and his patience had reached its end. "Why did you arrange this meeting? Speak now, in plain words, so we can end uncomfortable situation."
"I am worried about your obvious unhappiness with your circumstance. I worry you will do something to draw harm to yourself."
He did not believe her. Her eyes gave her away. "You avoid questions regarding your feelings. You desire to keep them in shadows?" When she held silent, Gannicus went on. "Then let me answer yours and perhaps you will offer truth as well. Despite being drugged, I did not initiate the affair. She demanded my cock and I did as commanded." His feelings of anger and helpless frustration at being forced into such compromising situations made his voice hard as he told her of his meeting with Octavia. "If only this had been a one-time fuck, I would have gladly presented cock and been done with it, but this woman seeks to purchase my body for some unlimited time where I have no choice but to allow her to use me as she sees fit."
Her stomach twisted in knots at his words. "Are you saying Batiatus is going to sell you to this woman?"
He shook his head. "She does not wish to purchase my papers." Her relief at those words was short lived. "Just my body, my time, and my skills upon the sands. She has made arrangement with Batiatus to have me brought to her whenever she desires, as well as honor her house in whatever games she chooses. She will provide for my care and I am to be her well-tended whore, paid for with Roman coin and fancy presents." He leveled serious gaze upon her. "Your turn. I would hear answer to my question relating to what stirs in your breast for me." When Melitta did not respond right away, he decided she was not going to reciprocate his plain words. "I am too fucking tired, Melitta. Keep your secrets," he growled. "Now, if that is all you wished to know I would fall to fucking bed." he said, making a move to go around her and escape what had become a painful discussion.
Horrified at what he had just told her, Melitta reached out and took hold of his arm, preventing him from leaving. She had never seen him so angry and out of sorts. "Gannicus, wait!" she cried softly. "You are not a whore! Why do you think that?"
"If not whore, then what am I?" he bit out, his voice rough with emotion. "Does Batiatus not take up the mantle of pimp renting my services for favors given?" He ran a weary hand down his face. "In these last days, I have been put on display, groped, fondled and forced to fuck my brother's wife, all to gain favored position in the games. Now, with position gained, Batiatus plans to use my cock to further profit his purse." His heavy brows drew down in a scowl. "That defines the word whore. If you can provide alternate view point, Melitta, then please, break fucking words and see it done."
Her eyes filled with tears at his turmoil. "You should not place such burden upon yourself. You have no control. Circumstances absent choice do not make us who we are, Gannicus. You said it yourself—we must do what is demanded of us."
"Yes, and I also said we were free when we fucked. Well, I am no longer free." He paused and let out a short, angry laugh. "In fact, I am apparently quite expensive! You should see what this woman is willing to pay for my services. It's fucking ridiculous!"
Melitta had never seen him so unsettled. Gone was the charming grin and in its stead was bitterness and a heavy frown. She had to get through to him. He was spiraling, and she was truly worried he might act out if she did not help him accept fate and come to terms with what was being demanded of him. She did not like it and wished fervently that she could advise him differently, but they were slaves, and if he rebelled…he would be lashed, or worse, he would be killed. The thought made her knees weak with fear.
She cupped his jaw with both hands and forced him to meet her gaze. "If you are labeled whore," she said softly, stroking his cheek with her thumb, "do you then brand me with title as well?"
"Of course not!" he exclaimed, eyes wide with surprise. "Why would you think I would view you in such harsh light?"
"Because I was a part of this barter too. The sexual favors traded for position in the games—that was demanded of both of us. The denarii given to Batiatus was paid after witnessing you and I together. By your reasoning, if you are whore, wouldn't I be classified as same?"
Gannicus's shoulders slumped and he shook his head sadly. "No. Not you—never you."
"If I am deserving of grace then you are as well."
He closed his eyes. His feelings for her rioting inside his chest and heart.
"Gannicus," Melitta prompted when he was silent. "You are not to blame for choices made in this house without consent or control. Batiatus is solely to blame for our circumstance."
His eyes flared open and he stared down into her upturned face, all his emotions came rushing to the surface and he could not stop himself. He just wanted to tell her, if only once, what was in his heart. "And what of choices one would make freely, despite hurting those we hold dear?"
Melitta's breathing hitched and she shook her head, trying to ward off where this conversation was about to go. "Gannicus…do not..."
"Do not what? Do not have feelings for you? Too late. Do not desire you? Again, it is too late for such concerns. My heart stirs for you, Melitta. I fight these feelings every day, but in this, I am also absent choice."
"No! You must turn thoughts away from such things! Recall what is at stake should we give in to this base desire between us."
"Between us," he repeated. "You feel it too."
She did not answer, but her silence spoke volumes. "It is not simple lust," he said, taking a step towards her. "I felt you…" His voice softened to a whisper. "I have fucked a thousand times and what I felt with you was something far more."
She backed away from him, begging him with her eyes to not do this. "No."
He followed her step for step. "Tell me you do not feel it too."
Her back hit the wall and she had nowhere left to run. "What I feel means nothing!"
"It means everything!" he groaned and crashed his lips to hers, kissing her deeply.
Melitta whimpered softly as his tongue pushed past her lips to taste her. Without will, her arms curled around his shoulders and she sagged into him as her body shivered with the intensity of the emotions he stirred in her. He pressed her up against the hard stone of the wall behind her and surged forward, his erection grinding into her and making her cry out softly against his lips.
It was beyond heavenly.
Her fingers slid into the silky blonde hair at his nape and she kissed him back, giving in to the passion he inspired. Her nails scraped his scalp, and Gannicus moaned softly, shuddering against her while his hands slid along her body, blissfully reacquainting himself with her soft skin. Melitta's head tipped back as he trailed hot, wet kisses down her neck to her chest. The sounds of their harsh, panted breathing filled the room as they became increasingly aroused. It was only when his hand went to the fastening of her robes that reality returned with alarming clarity.
If she did this—it would be of her will, not Batiatus'. Thoughts of Oenomaus learning of their duplicity tore at her heart and forced her back to sanity. "Stop!" she gasped, pushing at his shoulders.
Gannicus pulled back yet kept his hands on her hips, his face buried in the crook of her neck as he fought to regain control. He placed a lingering kiss upon her shoulder and Melitta gasped sharply, pleasure racing through her. "Please Gannicus, we cannot do this. It is wrong."
"And yet it feels so right," he groaned, pressing close to her again and brushing his lips along her ear.
She trembled against him, fighting against her own needs versus doing what she knew was right. He lowered his head to kiss her again but Melitta turned her head aside, avoiding the temptation of his lips. His beard roughened cheek brushed against hers, his stubble scratching against her flesh, causing another shiver to race along spine. "You would have us destroy the man we both love to pursue selfish desire?"
Her words were as a pitcher of ice water dumped upon head and Gannicus released her and stepped back. "Do you think I wanted this?" he asked. "I do love him, Melitta, you know this, but to deny there is something between us would be a lie worse than the one we tell Oenomaus."
"There is naught between us, but shameful acts that have inspired us to give in to baser urges. It has distorted reason and judgement."
"Who do you try and convince with your words…me or yourself?"
"I think that is a question better posed to you," she said, straightening her dress.
"It appears my feelings for you are circumstance I cannot fight or fuck my way clear of."
Melitta had no words that would offer comfort because to do so would encourage the complicated array of emotions between them and cause devastation to a man who was good and kind and deserved none of this.
He gave a short mirthless laugh. "Do you know how differently I would answer that question if posed today—with the knowledge I now have?"
"Why? You were not altogether wrong. We are slaves…"
"Yes, the burden of choice and conscience removed," he finished with a bitter twist to his lips. "How well I remember. Except that is a lie, Melitta, and you are well-aware of this fact. There is heavy burden when the spirit is wounded performing acts of little conscience. What a naïve fool I was! Conscience is never removed. It weighs heavily upon you, swallowing you one piece at a time. I see that now."
Melitta wanted to weep for them both. "I have prayed for an end to this degrading insanity. I can only hope the Gods will eventually heed them and save us."
"I fear I do not have the same faith in the Gods that you do. They have placed me in position I find unbearable."
"Gannicus…please do not do something foolish to salvage wounded pride."
He shook his head, warding her off. "Cease your worries, Melitta," he said, "I may act the fool at times, but in truth, I am not so thick of skull. I will do what is commanded absent complaint."
She nodded, relieved. "As we all must or be driven to madness and despair."
He paused, and it looked like he wanted to say something more, but then he straightened his shoulders and seemed to gather himself once again. "Words of wisdom." He inclined his head towards the doorway. "I must fall to my bed. My head throbs as if one hundred tiny men are inside skull trying to pound their way out. Gratitude for your concern," he said stiffly.
She wanted to say something to bring the smile back to his face but could not. To do so would only bring them back to a place of painful confusion and longing, so she remained mute as he left the bathing chamber without looking back.
Melitta's heart ached as she watched him walk away. His shoulders were heavy. She recognized it as the weight of this house. It settled upon them both like a ball and chain, dragging them down into bitter despair. At times, it truly seemed more than she could bear. And she was certain Gannicus felt it tenfold considering he was the prize these Romans tugged over like rabid dogs, utterly uncaring if they left him ravaged and degraded for their amusement. She took a moment to gather her composure, before exiting the room as well. She could tell her Domina she had achieved her goal. Gannicus would submit to the Roman woman's demands of him, but Melitta could not help but think about Gannicus' words regarding the cost of those demands. Was the destruction of the human spirit worth the reward? Melitta did not believe it so. Not at all.
*8*
While Quintus Batiatus was desperate to receive the patronage and connections Octavia possessed, he was nervous in accepting her terms. Her offer to provide coin for everything from new armor to wine for Gannicus was extremely generous, but it bordered dangerously close to ownership of him. He already had Tullius hounding him for the Celt, he could not afford to fend off Octavia should she desire his ownership as well.
"I seek not to offend, but I must speak plainly…" He took a deep breath, before saying, "Gannicus will never be for sale. Not for any price."
She laughed softly. "You mistake intentions. I am not Tullius," she said slyly. "I do not seek to purchase your man. I merely wish to borrow him at my discretion. You understand the difference, of course."
"Of course," Batiatus agreed. "And for this privilege you would provide the coin for his upkeep?"
"I would," she agreed. "My sponsorship would entitle me access to his services for any of the Ludi munera my family hosts, as well as the more intimate services we have discussed. For such unlimited access, I would provide the necessary coin for his well-being and care…plus a healthy fee for allowing me privileges of such a delicate nature. In return, I expect my arrangement for Gannicus' services outside the arena to be handled with the utmost discretion. My husband is a powerful man, Batiatus, and while he allows me the freedom to indulge certain desires, I would not have him embarrassed for his tolerance." She paused and her expression becoming serious, "Furthermore, my brother is not possessed with the tolerance of honorable husband, and while he spends much of his time on campaign outside of Rome, I cannot have him beset with vicious gossip regarding my affairs. It would cause me great difficulty. Are we of an understanding?"
"We are," Quintus said with a smile. "See worries from mind. The House of Batiatus is well versed in maintaining discretion in matters such as this. Word of our arrangement will never reach your brother's ears. I can fucking guarantee it."
"Very good," she said and tossed a heavy pouch on the desk between them. The weight of it made a loud clank on the wood as it landed. "There is a thousand denarii in that purse. That should cover the cost for the services I seek presently. I will see another hundred to your hand each month for the privilege of having access to Gannicus as if he were my own, without having to explain to my brother why I purchased a gladiator." She raised a brow. "Is that acceptable?"
Quintus picked up the leather purse, weighing it in his hand as his mind quickly calculated how much the ludus would earn with Octavia's coin. Not only would the amount cover the cost of Gannicus's upkeep, (clothing, food, weapons and armor) but it would provide the same necessities for all his other men as well. He could increase food rations, buy better armor, gear, weapons and afford to entertain honorable and favorable guests in proper fashion.
Octavia's offer would provide all these things; it was beyond what he had hoped and too tempting to deny.
"It is more than acceptable. Would you like the terms set into contract?" Quintus asked, a wide smile upon his face.
She chuckled. "Unnecessary for matters of intimacy, however, I will meet with my solicitor and have documentation of my sponsorship regarding Gannicus representing Aurelius in the arena drawn and delivered immediately."
"And I will see it signed and returned just as promptly."
Octavia nodded. "Perfect. Now, let us discuss my reason for visiting Capua. My husband is hosting the Ludi Apollinares this year, and—"
"The Apolloinares?!" Batiatus interrupted, sheer excitement swept through him at the idea of his house participating in such an important event.
Octavia laughed softly at his obvious enthusiasm. "Yes. Claudius is hosting the event to further his chances for reelection this year and I came to Capua to choose the man to represent Apollo in a chariot exhibition on opening day of the festival as well as secure a gladiator for the Primus on the final day of celebrations. After laying gaze upon Gannicus, I realized I could see both tasks satisfied with one gladiator. Think of it, who better to honor the Sun God than a golden gladiator blessed with the courage and beauty to rival Apollo himself!"
Quintus's eyes lit up and Octavia smiled. "You would favor such position, would you not?" she asked knowingly. "A chance to bring your House to Rome and the Circus Maximus?"
"I would indeed," he said, practically rubbing his hands together in glee. "And Gannicus would be the perfect candidate for such a celebration. The crowd adores him"
She chuckled. "I am certain half the population of Capua adore him, Batiatus. Your champion is of rare physical beauty and charisma. Women must flock to the man like bees to honey." She shrugged delicately. "Charming the crowd is quite another story altogether."
"He charms the masses in exact fashion. The public greets the man with great fanfare and that has only been in the shit matches Tullius has allowed us in the past. Give the man the primus in the Apolloinares and he will have Rome kneeling at his feet! I promise you that."
She chuckled at his enthusiasm. "We shall see," she said. Octavia did not doubt Gannicus' attractiveness, but the crowd was a fickle bitch. Having them eat from the hand was a difficult thing. Not many gladiators could do so.
"You will be at the Vinalia, will you not?" Batiatus asked.
"I will," she told him strolling into the room that held the stone busts of past champions.
"Then you will see with your own eyes how he inspires the audience. Men admire him, want to be him and women—they just want him!" he said with a grin. "And Gannicus, he draws them in no matter what time of day he fights."
She paused to examine one of the statues. "I would not wager against you, or him. Quintilius says he is fighting a beast of a man. Danaos. Hails from Germania and stands seven feet tall. I have heard he has never given the missio."
Quintus shrugged, unconcerned. "Gannicus is the slayer of giants. He will not fall."
Octavia smiled. "I look forward to seeing him in true contest."
She paused beside one of the stone portraits. "Magnetius," she said, "a beast upon the sands. I witnessed the man in several contests years ago. He was a tremendous champion. Fierce and deadly."
"Yes," Batiatus replied. "He was my father's champion. A true Titan."
"As was Adrianas," she said, admiring the long dead gladiator. "I remember his last contest. I was but a girl. It was sad when he died upon the sand that day, but he took his opponent with him! What a glorious death for both gladiators!"
The woman's knowledge of the games and the gladiators who fought them still surprised. "It was quite a showing, for certain," Quintus admitted. "You know your history of the games."
"My father enjoyed the games, so I have been to more than my share of muneras." She waved an arm around towards all the stone busts. "You have an impressive pedigree with your gladiators, Batiatus. You believe Gannicus to be these champion's equal?"
"I believe he is more than their equal," Quintus replied. "Gannicus will bring even greater glory to the House of Batiatus than both my father's or grandfather's champions. Mark words."
She chuckled and started to exit the room. "I believe your words speak true. Within his breast beats the heart of a lion," she told Quintus.
"You speak upon my very fucking thoughts!" Batiatus exclaimed.
"Then let us take the first step towards bringing thought to reality and have discourse regarding the Apolloinares."
"I favor the sound of that."
"As do I. Now, as you know, the games last nine days. Because I will need Gannicus on the first and last day, that would mean you will be in Rome the entirety of the festival. Will that be difficult for you, to be away from your ludus for such a period?"
"Not at all," Quintus replied, already starting to grin as he envisioned the House of Batiatus in Rome sitting in the Imperial Box. "We would be happy to oblige such an esteemed request."
"Then it is settled," she said, preparing to exit. "I will send a missive today informing my husband that we have found our Apollo. And, as to our other arrangement…I would have him delivered to my villa after the Vinalia. Agreed?"
At that, Batiatus frowned. "To your villa? You would not come here?"
She shook her head. "I am a woman…" she paused choosing her words carefully, "of great appetites. I fear another interlude at your ludus would not be sufficient to satisfy my desires. My villa would provide a more comfortable environment as well as protect my liaison from the loose lips of Varis or Cossutius." Her brow arched as she met Batiatus's gaze with an impervious one of her own. "Will that be a problem? He is not scheduled for any events immediately following the games, correct?"
Quintus shook his head. "No, he is not," he agreed, dissatisfaction at having Gannicus away from the ludus warred with greed for her coin, but in the end, he felt the choice removed from hands. She was too rich and powerful to deny request. "So…how long did you plan to keep him?" he asked, pasting a false smile upon face.
*8*
By the time he returned to the barracks, Gannicus had missed the morning meal. As champion, he always received first choice and double the rations. His morning meal generally consisted of eggs, pork or dormice, hot porridge and warm bread. Due to Octavia demanding his presence so early, the only thing left for him to eat was cold porridge and hard bread. He was not pleased, but he was too hungry to care. However, when he peered into the pot containing the last of the porridge, he made a face of disgust as he rethought eating the gruel. It was congealed and utterly unappetizing.
"Champion!"
He looked up when he heard his title called and noticed the young slave boy who had recently started serving the meals in the barracks a couple of months back, approaching him with what appeared to be a tray of some sort.
"I saved this for you," the boy said.
Gannicus removed the cloth covering the tray and was extremely pleased to see three boiled eggs, a huge slab of broiled pork, a bowl of porridge and two thick slices of honey bread. The boy held the tray out. "You are champion. You should not be forced to eat the left overs of the lesser men."
Gannicus appreciated the gesture and wanted to thank him properly, yet he could not remember the boy's name. "What is your name, boy?" he asked, taking the offered tray.
"Kleos," the boy supplied. "I am told I am Celtic, like you, Champion."
"Are you now?" The boy bobbed his sandy blonde head in answer, and Gannicus flashed the boy a grin. "From one Celt to another, I am in your debt, Kleos," he whispered conspiratorially. "I was fucking starved and did not savor swallowing down congealed porridge and bread hard enough to become weapon. Gratitude."
Young Kleos grinned at the blonde gladiator, and Gannicus was struck for an instant, there was something oddly familiar about the child. Just as quickly, he shook it off as being ridiculous.
"None required," Kleos was saying, garnering Gannicus' attention again. "We cannot have the champion of Capua falling due to hunger!"
Gannicus whole heartedly agreed. "No, we cannot. And thanks to you, that will not happen this day."
The slave cleaning the dining hall called for the boy and with a wave, Kleos hurried back to complete his duties of cleaning up the dining hall and returning pots to the villa's kitchen.
There was no one left in the eating area when Gannicus carried his tray to one of the empty tables and sat down. He was not yet ready to examine the events of this morning, so he concentrated on satisfying the one problem in his life he could presently solve; his grumbling belly. He had finished half his meal, when Kleos reappeared by his side.
The boy set down a glass of goat's milk. "Melitta instructed me to give this to you," he said.
Gannicus gratefully accepted the milk, quickly swallowing half the glass before setting it back down with a sigh of satisfaction. He wiped away any trace of milk remaining on his upper lip and patted his belly appreciatively. "Gratitude Kleos. I will be sure to thank her later."
The boy's smile was wide and happy. "May the Gods favor you with glory in your contest, Champion."
"You may call me Gannicus," he told the boy, earning another smile from the youngster. "And gratitude for words of good fortune, but a gladiator does not wait for the Gods to favor him, Kleos. He seeks his own fate with his swords. I will have victory tomorrow and the Gods shall have naught to do with it," he teased with a grin.
"One day, I will stand upon the sands and decide my own fate, Gannicus! Like you."
"You wish to be gladiator?" Gannicus asked, popping the last bite of egg into his mouth.
Gannicus bit back a grin as the boy seemed to grow before his very eyes as his shoulders went back proudly, and his skinny chest puffed up.
"I will be a gladiator someday," he said, lifting his chin in a manner that reminded Gannicus of himself.
The boy was cocky. Gannicus found it amusing. "And what manner of fighting style would you choose?" he asked.
"I would stand as dimachaeri."
"Wielding two swords is difficult feat," the champion said. "It requires skill and practice."
"I have no swords as of yet, but I have fashioned two wooden sticks that I work with every day."
Gannicus chuckled. "Do you now?"
"I do," young Kleos said proudly.
"Perhaps you can give me demonstration of your skill someday. In turn, I will offer instruction, as well." He grinned at the boy. "Would you favor such a thing?"
The boy nodded vigorously. "I would. Gratitude, Cham—uh, Gannicus," he corrected.
"Then we shall take fate in hand, Kleos, and make it happen," he said.
And, with a promise of further discourse on the subject, Gannicus sent the boy back to his duties before he got in trouble.
A/N: Hope everyone is enjoying the fic. Let me know what you think.