Title: Rediscovering Humanity (1/?)
Author: Diebin
Rated: R for adult themes and darkness. Prolly NC-17 later, since I am
me.
Spoilers: Only if you don't know what happened on that sunny farm in
Spain.
Or you missed the whole part about him becoming a Gladiator.
Summery: Someone survived the incident on the Spanish Farm.
Disclaimer: I own nothing but the e-mail address this is being sent
from,
and even that is probably forfit. Props to Dreamworks, Russell Crowe,
and
the tigers for so inspiring me.
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Part 1
~*~
He knew it was a whore before the guards managed to get the door completely open.
It wasn't just his talk with Proximo, though he'd figured the old man would try to placate his newest victor with some kind of cheap whore. As if bedding some poor slave woman who was probably terrified of him was supposed to be a reward.
It wasn't just the fact that he was in a cell by himself now, and his chains were a little longer than usual. He supposed he was meant to feel grateful--with the extra length of chain he'd have more freedom for disporting himself.
It wasn't just the noises coming from the cells around him, the sounds of men and women coming together, sometimes even seeming to find some fleeting moment of joy in this uncertain hell.
There was something else--a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. Maximus knew the guards were bringing him a whore.
And he knew there was little he could do to convince them that he didn't want one.
It was clear that his fellow slaves did not feel likewise. Walking the knife-edge of life or death, knowing that the next day could be--in all probability /would be/ their last . . . even the men who had seemed so firm in their integrity had caved in the face of that knowledge.
Men were animals. He'd seen it in himself--in the arena that day. He'd fought and killed and reveled that it had been his enemies to fall instead of himself. His identity was swept away in the rush of bloodlust--he was not a farmer, nor a General.
He was a barbarian.
Maximus could feel the corner of his lip turning down in a harsh scowl. As a barbarian, he should feel pleased that he had won the rights to pillage and ravage. After all, what else did barbarians do? They killed and rutted.
Was that the value of his life now?
If so, maybe it would be better if it ended. Sooner, rather than later.
Time was moving slowly as the doors behind him swung open. Staring down at his rough hands, Maximus hefted the heavy chain between his fingers, letting the cool metal slide against the calluses left by years of having a sword gripped firmly in his fist.
It would not be hard to end his life. Wrap the chain around his neck and sink to the floor. Let it strangle the life out of him. Release him from waking hell, set his spirit free. Caressing the chain lovingly, Maximus held his breath, letting himself think for a moment that it would be that easy.
With a sigh, he let the chain slip through his fingers. He was not fool enough to think he'd ever be able to go through with it. He didn't know how to die--only how to survive. He'd been doing it for so long, against such odds . . .
Problem was, now he didn't know how to live either.
Before his thoughts could shift to a new subject, there was a bark of laughter and a gasp of surprise behind him. As he started to turn, a body came hurtling into his back, shoving him roughly into the wall.
"Enjoy her, gladiator," a male drawled from behind him. Maximus felt the body stumble back, and there was a dull thud and a slight moan of pain behind him. Turning quickly, he saw a woman curled up on the floor, her arms drawn protectively over her stomach. The guard laughed and kicked her again, drawing another low groan from the trembling body on the floor.
Maximus wavered, wanting to send the woman away, but afraid to entrust her to the guards keeping again. Taking his hesitation for assent, the guard withdrew from the room, slamming the heavy iron door behind him.
Maximus turned from the woman, pacing towards the opposite side of the room. "I do not require your services," he said softly. "I'm sorry if you were expecting--"
"What?" demanded a heavily accented voice from behind him. "You are sorry? For what? That I am not getting the pleasure of your pathetic groping? Ueberheblicher Bastard!"
Maximus was at the woman's side so quickly that she was still blinking in shock as his hand sunk into her hair, tilting her face up so he could see her through her tangled mass of blonde hair. "Katija?" he asked, his voice so shocked it came out as a harsh whisper.
Of all the people he had expected to find himself face to face with, his wife's maid was so wildly unexpected that for a moment, he could think of nothing to say.
Katija had been a quiet girl, a refugee from the Germanic wildlands that Maximus' head stablehand had fallen desperately in love with. He had begged Maximus to find a place for her on the estate so that he could keep her close and court her--and the result had been a new maid for his wife.
She had laughed at the time. He could see her in his mind, her black hair tumbling down her back as she threw back her head and laughed. "I have no need for a maid, my love," she had said. Maximus had smiled at her, reaching out to touch her face. "That is probably for the best, because the poor girl doesn't know what a maid does."
A gasp of surprise jerked Maximus harshly from his reverie. He turned his attention back to the woman at his feet, for a moment choking back the irrational anger that this woman still lived and breathed while his wife lay cold without him . . .
Large, blood-shot blue eyes widened as they danced over Maximus' face. "L-L-Lord Maximus?" Katija shook free of Maximus' hand, squirming around and prostrating herself before him. "I am so sorry, my Lord. I tried--I tried so hard to save your Lady. M'lady would not--would not save herself though. Your son, my Lord--he . . . he had run beneath--beneath the horses hooves. After your Lady saw this . . . I am sorry, my Lord. I tried to save her!"
"Katija," Maximus interrupted softly, wrapping his hands around her upper arms and coaxing the trembling woman to a kneeling position. "Katija, you must be calm. How have you come to be here?" When the woman continued to stare at him, her eyes wild, Maximus shook her slightly. "Katija," he growled, "how did you survive?"
Katija blinked, the instinct to obey her former employer finally overriding the shock of seeing him. "I--I was taken by the men who put our home to the torch." There was a long pause as Katija swallowed. "Only two of us who were taken survived. They sold us both. Else did not survive long here . . . but I did." Katija's mouth curled up into a bitter smile. "I am a survivor, my Lord, though I regret it every day."
"I am not your Lord anymore, Katija," Maximus said finally. "I am a gladiator now. A slave like yourself."
"Not like myself," Katija responded, finally rousing from shock enough to shake his hands off of her arms. "You entertain them with your sword. I am not so lucky as to have other talents." Rising to shaky feet, Katija took in her immodest outfit with a sweep of her hands. "This is my worth now, my Lord."
Maximus rose as well, hooking his hand in his belt and gesturing to his blood stained tunic. "And this is mine."
"Blood." Katija wrapped her arms around her body, shivering slightly. "Why must everything end in blood? Why were our lives destroyed? What have we done wrong?" There was accusation in her eyes--faint, but clear enough to Maximus. She blamed him.
It enraged him.
"What have we done wrong?" he roared, startling her enough so that she stumbled back a step. Maximus took a step towards her, his chains stretching taunt behind him. "You want to know what I have done?"
"I would not presume to judge my Lord," Katija said stiffly.
"I saw the bodies of my wife and my son, burned and crucified," Maximus growled.
Katija took a step forward until she was face to face with Maximus. "I saw my lover die," she said slowly, her voice thick with anger and her harsh, germanic accent. "They ravaged me while he died, you know. They made him watch, even as I watched him die. Slowly. Both of us having to suffer not only our own pain, but the pain of the one we loved most. We could have escaped, but we would not leave your wife unprotected. He died for her, my Lord. For you." Katija spit on the floor next to Maximus' feet. "I died too that day."
Maximus held his ground, glaring down at the woman who stood before him, disgust radiating from her in waves. She was small compared to him--the top of her head barely even with his shoulder. But the pure, animal hatred that flooded her suddenly seemed to double her height.
"You were a man once," Katija spat. "My love honored you above everyone else. If the rumors are to believed, Rome honored you just as highly. They were fooled though. We all were. What I see now--you are not a man. You are a beast." Katija spat again, here eyes harsh. "You take life without thought. You wish me dead, even though my death will not bring your wife and son back. A hundred deaths will not do that. A /thousand/ would not."
"You have never taken a life," Maximus growled, lurching forward as far as his chains would let him. "You do not understand what it is--how it can fill the emptiness."
"I have taken a life," Katija responded. "But it did not fill any emptiness. It only made it greater. That is what it does to humans." Katija let her eyes slide down Maximus' body and back up again. "But then, that is not something you would understand, is it?"
Maximus' hand shot out so quickly that Katija did not have a chance to escape. Wrapping his fingers tightly in her hair, Maximus held her face still as he leaned down slowly, his mouth hovering over her ear. "It is not smart to insult those who have power over you. I could hurt you now, and the guards would not care. They would laugh."
"Maybe I am foolish," Katija responded, her voice only slightly high. "But I still believe there is some human left in you. The man I knew would not hurt me."
Maximus released Katija's hair, pushing her backwards as gently as he could. "Remember this," he growled lowly. "I am not the man you knew." Raising his voice, he turned towards the door. "I am finished with the girl. Come and take her from my sight."
"Until we meet again, my Lord," Katija drawled with a smile.
Maximus simply turned his back on her, staring at the wall as the door opened and Katija was led away.
~*~