Of Blood and Glory

Young Elatos is the body slave of Quintus Batiatus, a well known Gladiator owner within the city Capua. Maximus is a new recruit recently bought by the Dominus Batiatus, his usage well known for the arena. When the two meet, love is amidst the blood of the arena and the glory that wants to be won. Many complications come between the two, but to prevail is the greatest victory one can wish for.

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This is based around the television show Spartacus. All characters belong to the creators of the show. I only own Elatos, while Maximus belongs to my best friend!

WARNING:
Crude Language, Sexual content, Gory and Descriptive scenes, mentions of Rape, murder, and other illegal actions.

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3. Chapter 1- Upon First Glance

“Elatos, see to my wife as I go to market. Today I buy more slaves to be molded into gods in the arena!”

“Yes Dominus. See to safe travel.”

Just as the day started, the Dacian male was left to himself. Being the body slave of Quintus Batiatus definitely had its perks, one being that he was to be left to attending Lucretia’s needs; primarily the bringing of food and wine to the Domina. Today, however, he was simply aiding her in tidying her hair piece. She had sent Naevia off to tidy her and her husband’s quarters, leaving him to solely to serve her. He was a well liked slave by most of status in the house, as well as the common foot slaves and those who served as help in the Ludus. His dearest friend by the name of Pietros worked as a helper of the Gladiators, serving as a second hand of the Doctore in a sense. His love, Barca, was also a dear friend of his, as well as many beneath the containment of the Ludus. Sitting upon the balcony with the Domina in front of him, he carefully brushed her hair as she ate figs and drank wine. Silence was soon broken by the woman herself, a slight giggle leaving her lips.

“For a man, your hands hold soft purpose with brush. It is a nice change from the brute ones of those who share your lands.”

The words were a backhanded compliment; he was gentle handed for someone from a place so “brutish”. A light smile found purchase on his pale lips, continuing to comb the unnatural strands before speaking .

“Gratitude, Domina. I take pride in my gentle hold- one amongst male slaves must bare the burden of light hold.”

The wording was more light hearted and held a joking nature, which was caught and laughed upon.

“You are correct- those who share your blood also spill it with heavy grip on sword. Yours, however, find feather light purchase against brush handle.”

The phrase was a simple pointed fact, one well known to the slave. Many who shared his bloodline fought and died in the arena- some standing below him training. Those with foreign of Roman blood stood with crimson liquid forever dripping from blade, whilst his stood with softer luxuries in hand. A blessing and a curse to not know the ways of fighting, but one he would take upon.

The crack of the Doctore’s whip silenced the clashing of swords and grunts of frustration as several men in chains filed in single file, the Dominus taking stand beside his wife. Quick to rise to his feet, Elatos greeted his Dominus with a light bow before taking his place by his side. Oenomaus curled the leather weapon back to his side as he spoke, hard eyes gazing upon the men brought to become Gladiators.

“What stands beneath your feet?”

A question the body slave has heard yet numerous times with each new batch of recruits, and all give the same answer.

“...Sand?”

A dull roar of chuckles split the silence, but a look of distain stayed written across the dark skinned male’s lips. Head turned to look back at the Champion, his lips breaking in slight smile.

“Crixus. What lies beneath your feet?”

“Sacred ground, Doctore. Watered with the tears of blood.”

Well answered as it always would be by Champion Crixus. Light blue-green eyes scanned over the slaves as Oenomaus gave his speech about how Gladiators “fuck” death each time they step on the arena sand. Upon his own assessment, he came to recognize one man; Spartacus. He was the one who escaped execution by slaughtering four Romans in the arena, and who was offered life by his Dominus. His eyes scanned the remaining men, halting on one in particular. He was of tall build, muscular and tanned like fine leather. His hair was deep in color, curled shortly against his head in quite the attractive manor. The newly chosen trainee’s eyes lifted, locking with his own. Breath escaped his body with haste as their eyes locked, cheeks flushing a delicate pink hue. His eyes... he could not place a color to them. Be it the distance they stood apart or just how unique his eyes were, a color stood no comparison. A devilish smirk soon appeared on the male’s lips, causing a light pink hue to darken to mild red. It was as if he was in a trance; unable to break away from such intense and... surprisingly gentle gaze. His head snapped to the side as his name was called, Quintus holding a puzzled look.

“Elatos, do you fair well? You seem dazed.”

“Apologies, Dominus. I was merely distracted by an object now flown to the distance.”

“Well, then fetch more wine.”

“Right away, Dominus.”

With those parting words, the male scurried off the balcony with racing heart and flushed cheeks. That gaze... it tore through him as a sword would flesh. Something within him whispered of how their future would intertwine, never to part. Such thoughts were quickly shaken from mind, descending to the cellar to grab more wine.

MAXIMUS’ POV

One glance was all it took to capture both his interest and heart’s desires. What the man’s multi-hued orbs fell upon was truly beautiful; a rare flower amongst boulders and dirt. His hair was a deep red, lightly curled against pale skin. He could see freckles dotting across his face and chest from the distance he stood, as well as his body type. For a house slave, he held some muscle. It was not quite as defined as those in the Ludus, but it gave him a more manly appearance amongst his feminine traits. His eyes- oh his eyes. They seemed to be a shade somewhere between green and blue, but they were beautiful nonetheless. It seemed that as quickly as their eyes met, the slave was ordered away by the Dominus. His name was but a fallen whisper, lost among the speeches of the Doctore. He had been half listening, his attention once focused on the boy now drawn back to what stood in front of him. He was to become a god of the arena; a Champion. Maximus fully intended to steal the title from the little man known to be Crixus; a Gaul with the blood appetite of Ares himself. To become the best within the Ludus would prove to be a challenge, but none would stand too difficult for him.

Once the pleasantries of first meetings were over, the men were lead to the bathhouse where they were to clean themselves. His mind was preoccupied by the small ginger he managed to lock eyes with upon the balcony, head turning towards the other new recruits.

“Did any of you catch glimpse of the red head upon the balcony? Beside our new master’s side?”

“Yes- what of him? Most likely the Dominus’ body slave.”

“Would he have a name?”

“How in Jupiter’s cock would I be blessed with such fucking knowledge?”

“Who knows- perhaps you are Apollo hims-“

Maximus’ snarky comment was cut short by a towering figure; the one he saw with Crixus. Barca was his name, and he seemed pissed. A heavy step was taken, low glare boring into the new recruit.

“If you value that small cock of yours, you will silence tongue of the boy.”

His voice was deep and rather menacing, but that hardly made the Thracian flinch.

“Oh? Are you the one who fills his ass then? A cute one you ha-!”

A hand to his throat silenced him, back coming into contact with the wall quite roughly. With the anger of a bull, Barca gritted his teeth as he stood mere centimeters from Maximus’ face.

“Even if I were, I will rip legs from fucking body if I see you in his company. Keep clear of the boy unless you crave death before the arena, Thracian mutt.”

The hissing words held deep meaning, but it was not likely he was to heed them. Wishing to snap back at the larger male, Maximus was well aware he’d lose such a fight now. Perhaps once he was trained he could revisit such words, but for now he bit his tongue and simply glared back. With a final shove against the wall, Barca released and backed away, eyes lingering in deathly glower. It appeared he would have to find out the boy’s name on his own, and that would prove more tasking then he had wanted. Perhaps if he got the attention of the Dominus or Domina; Dominus in specific. If the redhead is indeed his body slave, then he will be the one to fetch him to present him to Quintus. Maximus knew he would have to stall the male a few moments to gain some information on him, and punishment lingered to be presented if they took far too long. Though it was a fear he was willing to risk; the boy had him enamored by just one glance, leaving him with the want to know more. His name, past, hobbies- he wanted to know all. His heart held soft areas, and this unknown male had managed to slither his way inside the spot without any trouble. Maximus only hoped he was of kind nature, not a snake hiding in grass to mask true nature.

Removing the minimal cloth he had from his waist, the now bare man stepped towards the water to wash the dirt and grime from his skin. Another being stood in his way, this time being the Champion himself.

“Only brothers may wash- once you prove worthy you may, dog.”

The vile words posed as warning not the test the patience of the man in front of him, drawing a low growl from the soon-to-be gladiator. He submitted by stepping back, dressing himself before letting out a low chuckle.

“And I thought the men on Thracia posed as asses- you’d fit in well, oh undefeated Gaul. Though I fear you’d have a difficult time keeping your cock in your pants as the rest of your race does.”

It was a malicious comment, but no action was taken seeing as Maximus exited the room before Crixus could properly respond. He would have to speak with the other Thracian- Spartacus. He knew he would find good company with him, and he would need at least one friend to keep him company. That is, until he can find time for the red head who has caught his gaze.

ELATOS’ POV

After fetching more wine and standing beside the Dominus as he watched his gladiators, the man took to his personal quarters to finish some work. Elatos of course followed suit, standing ready to fit the man’s needs. There was a moment of silence as Quintus worked, but he posed a question after looking over some documents.

“Elatos. You have been by my side for years now and have witnessed many men ascend to godhood in the arena. How do you think the newest batch will fare?”

The redhead stood silent for a moment, taking pause to think. They all seemed quite capable to fight amongst the gladiators, but some did prove to hold more value.

“Each of the men prove to hold value once skills are honed, Dominus. Though a few seem more... promising to bring coin. Spartacus and the other Thracian seem to hold the most vale of the recruits.”

“As I thought as well. Spartacus has proven himself in the arena- those four romans proved that. Maximus hails from similar blood, plus has purpose to become a Gladiator. You can see it in his eyes; he is bloodthirsty as most his kind. Those two are wild dogs who need to be broken, but I believe it can be done.”

“Maximus... with proper training and obedience, I believe he will prove worthy of the title of a “god”.”

So that was his name. The man who stole his breath at first glance... it suited him well. The name was foreign yet pleasing against his tongue, feeling as if he has said it many times before. His attention was grabbed as the other lifted his head again, letting out a sigh.

“Tell my wife I will join her swiftly. These document need to be revised before sunrise and I fear if i rest now, they will never be read.”

“Yes Dominus.”

With those final words, the small redhead took towards the private chambers with heavy thoughts. He knew it would be beneficial to keep his thoughts away from Maximus, but the man had a way of working his brain to only think of him. It was ignorant, really. He had only his name and appearance to fuel such thoughts, so maybe distance will keep them at bay. The look in the other’s eyes told him that distance would become hard to keep; Maximus was just as curious as himself, and would attempt to grow closer as days passed. Such a thought did not settle wrongly, either.

Here is the first chapter! It is interesting to see how enamored and willing Maximus is to meet Elatos- so flattering. I will do my best to update every week, but college starts for me in about 6 weeks. So after that point it may prove rather difficult. Until then, i will post every week if not more!

- J

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