Author: Sarah
Category: M/L
Rating: Adult
Summery: Finding a fascination strangely in the Coliseum’s gladiator games, the Empress of Rome seeks its pleasurous entertainment … just not for the reason one might think.
Author’s note: Okay I know what your thinking! Crap another fic… trust me I know the feeling! And to those reading my other fics, I am sooo sorry for the hold up, but the idea just kept on harassing me until I finally gave up… So just for chronological sake, the fic is placed in 217 AD where Rome has just reached one of its highest points in history. Everything else… well, the prologue says it all
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Prologue- Behind every great man
“He is the greatest fighter of Rome… so I’m told.”
Listening carefully to the gossip amongst her, the enriched brunette sifted through the madness and chaos of the crowds with a fascinated look in her eyes. The mass of colorful characters in front of her was overwhelming to say the least, and every detail somehow seemed to be vital or important enough for her to notice. Drunken fools, blood thirsty soldiers, and even on the occasion a hysterical clergyman. They all fluttered about before her…like ants drived by their own motives, sinners and saints in all. How fascinating they all were…
“And what do they call this warrior?”
“Maximus your ladyship… but his name isn’t important. It is his skill that will truly engross you. Some say he is nothing more than a mere mortal, fueled by the very thing that keeps him here, other’s… an indestructible god, banished from Olympus itself and put here on earth.”
“A god?” she questioned with a spark of interest, as a servant placed a grape to her parched lips, “Hmm… I have never seen a god before, what a magnificent sight this shall be then Louis.”
“A sight indeed… but magnificent?” Louis sputtered with uncertainty, “Are you sure you wish to see this Elizabeth? For I can not prepare you enough for the sights of the gladiator brawls… much less Rome’s very own Coliseum...”
“If it is good enough for the great and prudent Caesar,” she mocked with high held grace, “then I shall be no different.”
As Elizabeth searched from across the stadium, she found not one feminine face in sight until her eyes landed upon the third level… the slaves and peasants level. Her gaze turned to an icy fire towards the grating insult. Were women really so low as prisoners and mongrels?
“The world is cruel and unfair Louis…” she continued in thought to herself, “ this I know, and it is certainly not new sight to my eyes.”
“Of course your Grace, but perhaps…” he reprimanded just before the drums rang through out the arena. The noise of alarm and premonition of something dangerous to come crept its way from the top level to the bottom. Elizabeth held her breath in anticipation, not fully knowing what to expect or whether to be terrified or excited... or both.
“My dear countrymen,” a man bellowed on top of a sided pedestal, high enough for even the oldest and blindest to see, “My introduction this evening in fact needs no introduction!... but be me not hasty, take me nothing more but a man who is brought here by the same reason, the same urge, that has brought you to these very gates. For I am merely here to invite you…feast upon our festivities, drink our tonic… it is sure to be your cure! Of what cure you may ask? For this is your cure for entertainment! This is your madness! This is your ROME!”
Shouts and cries of great cheer rang through the doom enough to permanently make a child def.
“And so with no further a due, I give you our warriors, I give you our entertainers, I give you… our gladiators!”
Again a roar of applause filtered to an upheaval. Elizabeth watched closely and carefully, engrossed with the crude but seductive play before her. Her stomach turned with knots, waiting, anticipating what was to emerge from those doors.
“I wonder what he’ll look like?”
“Tuh,” Elizabeth laughed, “Like the rest of them. Gruesome, heavy barbarians clad in disfigurement and armor.” Or so she had been told. She’d heard stories of such giants, men that could hardly call themselves men. They were both the monsters and heroes of her Rome.
The gates with drew as Elizabeth found herself, and in company, holding her breath and awaiting for what could possibly fly through those very gates.
The doors opened, revealing nothing but mere shadows in the dark of the dungeons. The crowd grew silent as they awaited for something… anything to emerge from the gloom.
Nothing came…
“Well this is fascenat… AH!” Alexandria shrieked before she could finish her very words, as enraged creatures of enormous size seemed to erupt from the very floors of the Coliseum! It was almost cult like, they way they climbed out of the dirt, like they’d escaped from the very depths of hell itself.
But wait… the vile creatures were not alone!
Blasting forth the side entrance gates came roaring twenty men of all shapes, sizes, and colors, clad in every foreign gear one could possibly imagine. From steal iron armor to warrior painted and whole clad bodies.
“Which one do you think he is?” her trembling friend questioned.
“I suppose which ever one is left standing,” Louis quipped.
Elizabeth heard nor cared for what either one of them had to say. Enraptured in the guzzling battle, she held onto the very edges of her seat and preyed for the strength to look away. Her fingers clutched over her eyes when the blood of the animal was spilt, and when the crowd roared, she looked back again only to find two carcasses lying on the ground, slain by the exotic creatures that were chained to a distance.
Another man fell to his knees, as the lion’s claws scrapped across his chest in a vile and fastidious motion. Oh blasphemous Hades, she couldn’t watch it!
But the more blood that was shed, the louder the crowds grew. A man’s helmet flew off of his skull while assaulted, and as its shinny, blood stricken contents soared through the air, the people fought and clamored over its remains as if it were precious gold or some unknown treasure, waiting to be cherished.
“What wickedness are these before mine eyes?” her ally whispered dreadfully next to her.
By this time, blood already stained and flowed free through the arena’s floor, and only half of those men that entered those gates were still left standing. Yet, Elizabeth still wondered which one was the one. Which one was the gladiator that the fans cheered for every day and every night?
She didn’t have to wait long before her question was answered. Thrusting through the gates came a stranger so glorious, so strong that even the gods would gape in envy. The bronze of his skin shined and gleamed through his scarce armor. He was tall yes, but not o-beast or a giant like the rest. His muscles, thick and built as they were, were sculpted to perfection, and the very way he walked was enough to show presence. But she couldn’t see his face…
The lion was slain to his left as another axe came flying forth from his right. He blocked the vile blade with his own against the giant before him. At least two feet taller than he, the gigantic monster swung his axe again, but didn’t miss the second time as it grazed the man they called ‘Maximus’ across the shoulder blade.
Elizabeth jumped as a petrified noise fell from her lips in uneasiness. All of the sudden her excitement had been turned into fear in one fetal swoop, but still the helmet stood firm on the great stranger’s face. His blade fell from his hand from the strike of the blow and for a moment the crowd grew so still that not a faint of a whisper could be heard.
And then the axe arose again, shining through the arena in one moments end. Death for the notorious gladiator seemed to be certain, but at the last second the great warrior dived in below the giant and threw his blade into the sides of the Olgar looking as if it were his second nature. The blood sputtered forth gruesomely, but Elizabeth felt relief flow through her vains seeing her greek god before her still alive.
Victory was his as the great monster fell to his knees in the one ghastly blow. Elizabeth even found herself chiming in with the crowd as the specimen of Rome stood before them still undefeated… still glorious.
But still Elizabeth desired to see the thane’s eyes. “His face…” she whispered absently, “I wonder…”
Louis must have heard her because in the next moment he ordered the man to remove his helmet.
“I said remove your helmet gladiator!” he ordered angirly again when the auburn haired man didn’t immediately obey.
She held her breath, awaiting to see the face of the man who’d fought so gallantly, so fiercely before them all.
His hand rose to the metal armor, as his muscles bulging as they grabbed onto its contours before finally drawing the protection down.
She froze in her place, while finally looking into his auburn depths, smoldering with the battles last moments still present. The thick locks of deep brown hair almost covered those soaring orbs as the rest fell to his broad shoulders, and what unnerved her the most was that they were staring straight into her very own. Bold. Fierce. Wild. Free…
“Dear God,” she whispered in her flushed state.
“My lady are you alright?” her slave asked in earnest.
“Quite,” she reassured still staring at the most beautiful face she'd ever seen in a a man, despite the muck and sweat. She swallowed, feeling fait and for once happy she was seated.
He watched down below standing proud and untamed like on of the lions he had just slain just moments ago. His lips curved in an unmistakably knowing smirk, not so much in his lips, but in his eyes. He had much to smile about she asserted, making a lady of royalty blush… making her blush. And she couldn’t even recall if she’d ever done so before… ever!
Certainly not by a slave!
But as his eyes fell upon her lips, she flared and remembered both of their places. Elizabeth stared him down with an attempt of a look that she hoped looked like small amusement. But then a heat of a different kind flushed her cheeks when he still pursued her more with a sinful look. Her fingertips dug into her palms.
Anger was not a strong enough word for what she felt for the man at that very moment. Who did he think he was? She was the empress of Rome! She would not be looked upon as… as cattle!
“Am I mistaken Louis, but gladiator or not, he is a slave. No?”
“Why of course ladyship.”
“Then might I enquire why this particular slave is looking upon me, not as his empress, but as some mere amusement.”
Louis turned and finally comprehended the way he looked upon her, “Maximus!” he raged, “Remember your place!”
When the auburn haired man still looked into her eyes with such arrogance, Louis ordered him again, “I said remember your place!”
One final glance was thrown towards Elizabeth with such resilience, such fierceness, and if she weren’t mistaken even a look of raw lust, before his gaze respectfully lowered to the floor. He bowed faintly to her before turning his attention to the crowd.
“My lady… my lady,” a woman whispered from behind her, “I come from Caesar himself. Your father requests your company back home.”
“Fine,” Elizabeth sighed as she stood but turned to the thane behind her before adding, “I’m growing rather bored here anyways. The smell alone, is enough to keep me from these mongrels.”
Elizabeth smiled triumphantly inside when she caught the glare thrown her way by the masculine warrior. “Louis, shall we?”
“Indeed,” he smiled adoringly as he lent her his arm to escort her out.
Keeping the urge to turn around at bay, Elizabeth swore that she could still feel the man’s burning gaze all the way until the hallway. “Well, I do hope this little trip has cured you of your curiosity! Honestly, was there one good thing that came from going to this horrid place!” he detested.
“Oh, I might be able to think of one or two,” Elizabeth smirked to herself quietly.
“Your carriage your grace,” a servant bowed.
“Oh before I forget, Elizabeth, you’ve yet to have told me what you want for you birthday! The feast is tongiht you know!”
“Well, of course I know,” she laughed basking in the future joys of the banquet her farther was planning to throw. There would be no other like it, and she simply couldn’t wait to be the center of it all… not that she wasn’t already.
“WELL… what would you like? Price is no object for you my little daffodil.”
“Hmm, I don’t know,” she whispered in thought.
“Well there must be something you want… even you don’t have everything in the world.”
She laughed before sitting in the carriage. Her face changed suddenly when she looked back to him with a mysterious smile gracing her lips, “Do you ask in earnest?”
“Of course my dear, anything… anything at all. Name you heart’s desire and I shall bring it to you at party tomorrow!”
“Very well then… you may bring him to the party,” she announced assertively, a small smile tenting her lips.
“Whaa, uh, but bring whom my Lizy? Whom shall I bring?”
“Well, my present of course!” she laughed with giddiness and at the silly look formulating upon Louis’ face.
“The gladiator!”