Work Text:
Gladiator Slash 4: Good Bye
Author: Melinda
Maximus entered his father's villa carrying the bleeding slave. One of the servants, seeing the wounded man, went to find the healer who always treated the servants and Maximus' family whenever one was ill or hurt. Maximus' father, Decimus, came down the stairs, hearing the commotion. When he saw his son with blood on him from the injured young man in his arm's, it sent a chill down his spine.
Decimus, moved towards his son with speed and agility meant for a younger man. The striking resemblance between father and son was exceptional. The older man was grayer around the temple and had brown eyes instead of blue, but there the difference ended. Both men were muscular in a way that showed they had grown up working the land. Maximus glanced up at his father and Decimus was taken aback at how old his son's eyes looked at that moment. He knew his son would no longer look at the world with the same innocence as he had that morning when he woke up.
"My son, tell me what is this?" Decimus guided his son into the room under the stairs that usually housed guests when they arrived late in the evening when no time was available to open a more spacious room upstairs. A servant ran in and started to light the oil lamps, illuminating the way for Maximus to place the wounded man on the bed.
"An accident, father...and I'm responsible. Please, I need help to save him." Maximus moaned, turning pained and wounded eyes to his father. Decimus didn't quite understand what his son was saying, but he knew that whatever had happened tonight, his son was taking the blame. He turned and ordered the servant to bring their healer and bring him fast, unaware that another servant was already fetching the healer.
"Make sure he brings the tools necessary to close gaping wounds. Also, bring hot water and clean cloths. We need to stop the bleeding before he bleeds to death." Decimus turned and gathered the blanket that was at the foot of the bed and started pressing it against the cuts on the young man's face. Maximus, following his father, started wiping the blood off of Cicero's chest, shoulders and neck. Most of these wounds were beginning to scab over, but it was hard to tell which wound needed immediate attention since there was so much blood. Maximus was grateful that his father hadn't asked any questions. He knew that bringing a naked, bleeding man into his father's home was not a normal event and that his father's curiosity must be running rapid.
Morius, the healer entered the room, walking swiftly to the injured man. He had brought along with him his wife of many years. Both started working efficiently and smoothly, as people do when they have been together for as long as they have. He sent servants to bring more light and wine, knowing that the pain would be the first thing to deal with if the young man woke up. Morius' wife, Isabella spoke quietly, ordering for the water to be heated and a broth to be made. The young man would need food to help replenish his blood supply if they could get him to eat. Thankfully, the young man was still unconscious and would be unable to feel the needles and thread that were going to have to be used to close the wounds on his face. Morius glanced up at Decimus and shook his head, implying that it would be better if they could be left alone with their patient. Morius could see the irritability on the son's young face and did not want any interference if the patient started to come to and be in pain.
Maximus and his father stepped back to let them work. Maximus couldn't take his eyes off the young man. Decimus wondered again what must have happened tonight to have aged his son so much. Those blue eyes had aged way beyond their owner's youthful years and it pained Decimus to see his son so.
"Come, son, there is nothing we can do at the moment. We have to let them do their magic and pray for him." Decimus placed a hand on his son's arm and guided him gently out of the room. Maximus looked back nervously as more servants entered the room with water and cloth to clean and bandage the wounds.
He followed his father into the spacious sitting room adjacent from the huge entrance to the villa. The bright light of to many oil lamps, pushed all the darkness from this room and Maximus sighed with some relief. Darkness was not where he wanted to dwell at the moment. His father went over to the cabinet where they kept the strong spirits and poured two glasses of their finest wine from their own vineyards.
Walking back to his son, he offered the wine and watched his son reach out with shaking hands to take the drink. Maximus threw back the drink in one swift swallow then walked over to the cabinet to pour him another one. Decimus had never seen his son so distraught. He would give his own life if he could wipe this night from his son's memory, but knew that he could not deviate his son away from the path the gods had chosen for him.
"This afternoon, your mother left to visit her sister's, which I guess was a good thing or she would be down here worried to death." Decimus stated, hoping his son would feel safe in discussing tonight's events. Maximus looked over at his father, thinking, trying to calm his soul.
"I can see that this is causing you a lot of pain, my son, and if you wish not to discuss this, I understand, but I feel that I would like some explanation. I know by looking at the young man he is a Roman slave. I would like to know what I or we might be up against, in case whomever he belongs to comes looking for him." Decimus spoke patiently, hoping to open the door so his son would want to discuss the night's events.
He was proud of Maximus, no father could ask for a better son. Maximus had grown up strong and intelligent, willing to learn everything that was taught him. He had always been kind and considerate towards others, sometimes to a fault. He never whimpered or shied away from hard work, always willing to do more then his share around the farm. Decimus had worked hard for the life he had given his family and they had never wanted for anything. His son, having everything he had ever needed, had never taken any of it for granted, like so many other children who were born into wealth. Maximus' heart was pure and strong and it pained Decimus to see so much hurt on such a young man's shoulders. If there was one thing he knew about his son, it was that his son would carry this burden without complaining. Decimus wondered how much of this burden was his son's and how much belonged to the Emperor's son.
Decimus had met Marcus Aurelius, several years ago and he admired the man. He had found him to be a caring and compassionate Emperor who took his duties seriously. When Maximus had told him he had joined the Emperor's legion, he had been proud, knowing that his son would learn how to fight and lead men, which was what Maximus had been born to do it seemed. But the Emperor's offspring...they were a different story.
Decimus had seen how the Emperor's daughter looked at his son. This wasn't new to him, his son had been well liked by many of the available daughters in the surrounding farms. He had already arranged a marriage between his son and the neighboring landowner, hoping to join the two families and make the small communities stronger. Decimus knew his son was an honorable man and would follow his duty when the time was right, so the infatuation of the Emperor's daughter with his son was just a passing fancy. He knew this Lucilla would eventually honor her role in her own family and be married to a man of power in Rome. A small romance was inconsequential in the scheme of things. Besides, he had not seen the passion in his son that should accompany young love.
It was the Emperor's son that had Decimus worried. The look he had seen in this young man's eyes whenever he was looking at Maximus had bothered him. He had spoken to Maximus' once about it but it had been brushed off for being the boy's age. This Commodus was young, but sometimes when someone so young was given so much power they usually didn't handle it very well. Decimus feared what would happen if this young man became Emperor. And now tonight, his son going out with the Emperor's son, coming back with a Roman slave. The spoiled son of the Emperor was mixed up in all of this but how much Decimus didn't know and probably would never know.
Maximus walked over to a chair and sat down. It looked as if he had come to some kind of decision. He looked up at his father and began to speak, quietly at first, but more vehemently as he kept talking.
"Tonight, my father, I made a serious mistake in judgment...letting something happen that I know I could have prevented if I had not been drinking...if I hadn't let emotions take over. I let go and things got out of hand. That young man is in there because I wanted to feel something that should have never been felt. Those feelings...those emotions I had tonight were to powerful, father. I cannot ever allow them to take control again." Maximus trailed off remembering how powerful his need had been. He could not...must not lose control like that again. Decimus watched the emotions fly across his son's face, still not understanding what had happened but accepting his son's need for control. Decimus understood controlling one's own emotions. Emotions could lead to dangerous things.
"My son, I do not understand and maybe I don't need to. Whatever happened tonight just might be your cross to bare, but I must know if Praetorian's will be showing up at my doorstep to claim this man." Decimus went and gently raised his son's lowered head to look into his piercing blue eyes, the eyes that were so much like his mother's.
"No, father. This man belongs to me now. He wouldn't dare send Praetorian's to come here and try to take him! He knows I would kill him!" Maximus spoke with such anger and loathing that Decimus stepped back. He had never seen his son so adamant about something. Decimus knew that his son was changing in front of him and he didn't know if this change was going to be for the better. Before he could ask his son anymore questions, Morius and his wife stepped into the room. They both bowed respectfully and waited patiently to be acknowledged.
Maximus stood up quickly and walked over to the healer, "Is he going to be all right?" he demanded.
"Perhaps. Most of the wounds were slight, but he had lost a lot of blood. He will need bed rest and food. With his mouth the way it is, his food will need to be crushed and mixed with broth, so that he can swallow. There will be scarring of the face and body, but that's the least of his worries. He needs to survive the night and then any infection if it sets in." The healer didn't believe in mincing words. He felt bad, seeing how his master's young son was so worried about the boy. But he didn't want to give any hope to him.
"He must be looked after continuously, his bandages changed everyday. These herbs here need to be made into a poultice and placed on the wounds to help prevent infection. Your best bet is to pray to the gods for healing. Give him wine for pain, he's already had quite a bit tonight and should sleep until morning," the healer handed over some herbs in a small purse to Maximus.
"Father?" Maximus looked at his father questioningly, and Decimus moved towards the healer and took the bag. Maximus walked out of the room rapidly and went to check on Cicero.
"I want you to train one of my servant's in how to care for this young man so that he can get the best care. Thankyou, Morius for your guidance tonight." Decimus bowed to Morius, letting him know he was grateful for the work he had done. After the healer and his wife left, Decimus moved quietly to the doorway where the slave lay and watched his son.
Maximus had pulled up a chair to the bed and was leaning over whispering in Cicero's ear. Cicero breathing was shallow but he seemed to be comfortable. The bandage's on his face practically covered the entire facial area. There were cuts everywhere on the young man's body. Maximus pulled the covers back and looked at all the wounds on him. He was laying on his back, which was where most of the wounds were, but they had only been surface wounds, which had bled quite a bit, but would heal nicely. It was the one's on the face that had Maximus worried. He covered Cicero back up, but placed his hand outside of the blanket so he could hold it.
"My beautiful Cicero. Because of my own desires you were hurt tonight. I should have stayed away from you. Said no to the offerings that you gave, perhaps you would be all right." Maximus whispered softly in Cicero's ear.
"I'm sorry...please forgive me. I promise...no one will ever hurt you again. I will always take care of you." Maximus laid his head down on Cicero's pillow and drifted off to sleep still holding Cicero's hand.
*********
Maximus woke as the dawning of the sun poured through the open window. The smell of grapes and early morning jasmine was in the air. He had slept all night holding Cicero's hand. He looked at Cicero, sleeping peacefully. Some color was returning the his face, what little he could see of it. Another sound was coming through the window and Maximus realized this was the sound that had awoken him. It was the sound of a carriage. He got up and strolled to the window to see who had pulled in front of the villa.
It was Lucilla's carriage. Maximus watched as she got out and approached the front door. He sighed deeply, knowing that this was not the encounter he was looking forward to. He didn't know if Commodus had told her about last night, but since she was here so early in the morning, Maximus knew that she must have been told something. He had completely forgotten that he was going to go and see her last night, after he was finished with Commodus and Quintus. He turned to leave the room to greet her out front, but he made sure Cicero was still sleeping. Satisfied that the young man hadn't been disturbed, Maximus went out into the hallway and answered the door before Lucilla could have a chance to knock.
Maximus was again taken aback by the beauty of Lucilla. Her face was like porcelain in the sunlight, eyes wide and open, mouth full, made for kissing. Her hair was light brown, streaked with golden highlights, which fell softly to the middle of her back. His heart ached, knowing that he would never be able to have her, after last night he didn't even know if he had ever really wanted her. He just knew that she was one of the most beautiful women he had ever known, but beauty was not enough anymore. Maximus felt his life had changed so much in just a few short hours and the change no longer included love or passion, emotions that Maximus didn't trust anymore. They left him to vulnerable.
"Maximus, my darling, what happened to you last night?" Lucilla approached and placed a light kiss on Maximus' unresponsive lips. Her tone was guarded. She could feel a coldness in him that she had not felt before. Her brother wouldn't tell her everything about last night but she knew that Maximus was different.
"Lucilla, how are you?" he responded stiffly. His guard was up, not trusting why she had come all this way at such an early hour. Maximus heard movement behind him and turned to see his father at the bottom of the stairs. Decimus was ready for any problems that might arise. Maximus shook his head, letting his father know that everything was all right.
"Can I come in and talk with you? It seems things were said last night that maybe could be looked at differently in the light of day." Lucilla placed a hand on Maximus' face looking up at him imploringly, hoping to get a chance to maybe ease relations between Maximus and Commodus. Her brother was beside himself at the thought that he might have lost Maximus' friendship over a little misunderstanding. Maximus turned and lead Lucilla in to the sitting room. A servant came in and brought some fruit, bread, cheese and wine. After placing the food and wine on a serving table, the servant opened the drapes to allow in the morning light. Maximus motioned for Lucilla to sit, while he took a seat across from her, waiting for the servant to leave them alone.
"Maximus, please you are so quiet...things couldn't have been that bad last night. So my brother and you had a little misunderstanding about slaves. It couldn't have been as bad as what your face is portraying." Lucilla tried to laugh away the incident. She was becoming more and more uncomfortable with the aura around Maximus. She was used to being able to ply and manipulate the responses she wanted out of him and now her hold seemed gone. She no longer knew where she stood with him. Maximus stood up and started pacing the floor after she had spoken, not sure how to approach the subject.
"This was not a little misunderstanding over a slave, Lucilla!" Maximus stressed, walking back and forth like a caged animal.
"Well, how bad could it be. I hear the slave is all right. You had supposedly seen to that. Sometimes Maximus, you don't understand that slaves are put here to serve us, no matter what that service is and when a slave disobeys us we do have to punish it." Lucilla was trying to explain this as if talking to a child. This seemed to infuriate Maximus.
"Don't speak to me as if I'm a child with no understanding of the world! This "it" you are talking about punishing is a human being, no different from you or I. They have feelings and emotions too. And no one deserves what happened to this young man last night...no one!" Maximus snapped, trying to keep control of his anger. Having this much anger made Maximus uncomfortable. He couldn't remember a time in his life when he had carried so much rage around in him.
Lucilla shook her head, not understanding why Maximus was being so stubborn about this. Once again, she realized the gap between her's and Maximus' world and wondered if it could ever be crossed. Watching Maximus move back and forth across the room, reminded her of why she was so enchanted by this man. His broad shoulders and powerful legs moving together fluidly, his dark hair cut close to his head, the overnight shadow of beard around the strong jaw and chin. His lips were pressed together in anger, giving him this sensuality that made her heart skip a beat. She wanted this conversation to be over with so she could make love to him, have him full inside of her again, pounding home her orgasm, fulfilling all her wants and needs in one act. She knew that soon Maximus would be leaving and she didn't know when she would see him again. She didn't want to spend their last hours together arguing over Commodus. She stood up and approached Maximus, placing a hand on his arm to stop him from pacing.
"Maximus, please...let's not argue. My brother can be childish in his decisions. Not thinking about the consequences of his actions. You must remember that he is just a child himself, being nearly seventeen and all. You must be able to find a way to reconcile last night with his immature behavior. Besides...I heard that you participated in the games of last night also." Lucilla spoke gently, watching Maximus' reaction. She had felt intense jealousy when Commodus had told her about Maximus' making love to the slave. She was hoping that Commodus had exaggerated, because by her brother's description of the events last night, Maximus had never been so enraptured with her during their love making. Watching his face now, seeing the guilt and shame cross over it, she knew her brother had been telling the truth. She could feel the jealousy coming back in waves.
Maximus pulled away from her touch. He couldn't believe she was brushing off Commodus' actions so lightly. He started to see Lucilla in a new light. Realizing that her opinion about slaves was almost the same as Commodus'. The slaves were theirs to do with as they wanted. He couldn't understand nor did he want to understand someone like her. She was lost to him forever now. At the mention of his participation in last night's events, Maximus felt the shame and guilt wash over him and he vowed never to allow that situation to arise in his life, again. To lose control of one's surroundings with such abandon was unforgivable.
"Lucilla, I think you need to go. Last night should have never happened and I will pay the price for it for the rest of my life. As for Commodus, he is wrong! You are wrong! To treat other human beings with such disregard for human life just because of their station in life is deplorable. I refuse to discuss this any longer!" Maximus could feel his anger rising as he walked towards the entrance way waiting for Lucilla to follow him. He turned as he heard her lilting laughter.
"Maximus...please. Were talking about a slave here. So Commodus was having a little fun. There's no harm in that." Lucilla couldn't believe that Maximus was taking all this so seriously.
"Fun!?! This was not just a little fun!" Maximus strode back to Lucilla and grabbed her hand. He pulled her down the hallway and into the room where Cicero lay sleeping in the bed. "Look at him!...LOOK at him!! Does it look as if he was having fun?" Maximus demanded, grabbing Lucilla's face and forcing her to look at the injured man on the bed. Lucilla jerked back and out of Maximus' grasp. She glared at Maximus.
"How could you bring him here?!" She spat out at him. She was infuriated that Maximus had brought his whore from last night into the bed she and Maximus had shared several times this summer. This was the room Maximus would always bring her when their need had been urgent, demanding to be fulfilled. She couldn't believe that Maximus hadn't even thought about her when he brought this slave here.
"What? What the hell are you talking about?" Maximus hadn't been prepared for this response.
"Your whore! How could you bring him here? This was our room together...our bed together." Lucilla could feel the tears well up into her eyes as it began to dawn on her that Maximus hadn't loved her the way she had loved him. How could he not love her? The Emperor's daughter! She backed away, trying to get out of the room. In the process she knocked over a small table, spilling the contents on the floor.
The sound of the table falling over, brought Cicero wide awake. He looked around trying to focus on his surroundings, when his eyes fell on Lucilla. Their eyes locked and Lucilla could see the sheer terror wash over the slave. She knew that her brother hadn't told her the complete story about last night, but what he had said about last night was the truth. Maximus had fallen for a slave. She could feel her heart breaking. Maximus didn't love her. His heart had been claimed by this slave. She whirled around and ran out of the villa to her waiting carriage.
"Lucilla, wait?!" Maximus tried to run after her, but was pulled short by the thrashing going on in the bed behind him. He turned and saw that Cicero was in a panic trying to get up from the bed. Maximus went to him and gently put his hands on the young man's shoulders, pushing him back down into the bed. He started murmuring to Cicero, "Shhh...it's all right...your safe now...no one's going to hurt you...look at me...look at me." Maximus made eye contact with Cicero, "that's it...I'm not going to hurt you. Just listen to my voice..." he spoke softly to the young man, stroking him gently down his arms to his hands then back again in a soft rhythmic motion. "You're going to be all right...listen to my voice...your safe now."
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