Yours is the heart that I hold Dear

[Gannicus]

god of the arena Gannicus felt numb. Upon the dawn he would leave this place a free man. Out of his years as champion he had been allowed to spend a night here. Romans had sent him many things as gifts for his fight. He had some clothing, and some coin and no desire to leave this house. He held room away from the others, and as he sat with back to wall, he could see Melitta crossing sand. As Domina's body slave she had been present. Witness the blood. He always held pride in his winning but tonight it meant he would leave her. He said nothing, his jovial mood now dark as she entered room and closed door. He had tried to give up freedom, telling the Romans he wished to stay with her but the people expected to see him free and apart of them. He would not be allowed to stay. She would stay slave and he forced to leave her thus. She had been heart and lover. Now she would be memory. Not waiting to waste time not having her in arms he held out his hand, silently asking for her to come to him and let him hold her. Freedom should have been highest honor. Should have held euphoria. Instead he wished Helios to never bring the sun, and for this night to last until his death.

^{TAG Melitta}

[Melitta]

Some acts cannot be avoided

when stripped of choice or clothes.

L

ove was a bittersweet emotion as a slave. One the one hand, they were often used for pleasure among their masters or visitors, as the house of Batiatus was becoming known for. On the other hand, they may fall in the arena or never make it as far. Today, marked no day of such death, but still of loss. Melitta felt happy for Gannicus, that he would be free of such a life. A man liberated, able to make his own choices. But the selfish part of the woman's heart wished he did not have to go. Or held a greater wish, that she could go with him.

Never before had she thought of freedom, rather comfortable in her station as Lucretia's body slave. But now, her love for the man trumped that of her loyalty to her Domina. A fearful thought and one she would never voice with risk to her own life. Said Domina allowed her time with Gannicus during this last night, and she took advantage. Making her way to him, as she wordlessly entered and closed the door behind her.

She just watched him, as he reached out a hand for her to take. Forcing a smile on his lips she moved forward, taking his hand and seating herself in front of him so that she could make proper eye contact. "You aid in the making of history," she began to say, a smile still on her lips, knowing that she needed to remain strong. Even if it was for both of them. "To be a champion, granted freedom in the arena. To possess the rudus." She was proud of him, to have earned the highest honor. And so such words could be said with genuine meaning, unwavering sincerity.

tag: Gannicus
notes:

We do what we must in this house.

crafted by Molly Josephine ☁

[Gannicus]

god of the arena "I give no fuck to making history." Gannicus told her, taking what comfort from the storm inside him from the feeling of her with him. He had fought this, and he was defeated. The undefeated champion could not eve win the fucking battle that mattered most to head and heart. The one for life, rather then killing. Freedom meant hell when she was left to rot while he went free. He felt a rage that had long been absent from his chest. One that led him toward hate of the romans, when before he had given no shit to them. "They give life meaning only to take it from grasp when it becomes most important." He pulled her toward him, so she sat on his lap, and was deeper in his arms. Chest to breast. FOr once this was not even a (compleatly) sexual move, as he only wanted to hold to her so tight the gods themselves could not pull her from grasp. "How am I to leave you?"

^{TAG Melitta}

[Melitta]

Some acts cannot be avoided

when stripped of choice or clothes.

M

elitta was unsurprised by Gannicus' reaction, though she knew she had to be strong. For both their sakes. There would be a time to mourn; a time to shed tears. She would miss his presence every single second he was absent from this place. But wished him a life that saw him beyond the chains of slavery. A life where he could live, and not be confined to the will of another. She moved with no protest, positioning herself comfortably on his lap, forcing her soft smile to remain in place as he asked her how he was to leave her. She raised her hand to his cheek, gently caressing it.

"You will walk to the gate tomorrow," she told him. "And embrace the life that awaits you beyond it." A life that he deserved. A life that he had earned. "If the gods mean for us to be reunited, then know I will pray with every breath to make it so." But she did not want him to hold back in a life that she may never again be a part of. She leaned forward, resting her forehead against his, fighting to hold the tears back.

"But do not lay waste to this opportunity. Embrace it. Take to this path you have been set upon with no restraints. You are free from shackles; do not let others replace them." Meaning her. She did not want him to hold back on her account. He . . . had to let her go, yet asking him to do so, made her heart ache. The selfish part of her wanting him as hers. But knowing, that their future may never be one where their paths crossed again.

tag: Gannicus
notes:

We do what we must in this house.

crafted by Molly Josephine ☁

[Gannicus]

god of the arena There was no fucking way he was going to walk to the gate. The Romans would have to drag him. He could not forsee walking from her touch, of will that was his own. She placed her forehead to his, and he felt a peace that was beyond his ability to gain without her. There was part of him that lead to him begging so fearless, and that part of him was the part that had little care of dying. He could fight like he did because he embraced the death. Until her. In these moments, he did not long for death, but for life. One in her arms, and preferably, in her bed between her thighs. His hands came up to touch her face, but in his bitterness of being forced from her side his grip was strong. Not within range of hurting her, for he would never hurt her, but enough that he held firm. He knew it was not easy for her to say these words too him, and apart of him hated hearing them. "I will never be free from shackles, when I willing take the ones you have on me." Not real ones, but emotional ones. "I have no want to try." Tilting her face he kissed her, lingeringly slightly before letting her face go, and his arms wrapped around her to hold her against him. "I will not rest until I can gain coin enough for you to join me." He swore, "No matter what they demand of me."

^{TAG Melitta}

[Melitta]

Some acts cannot be avoided

when stripped of choice or clothes.

M

elitta felt that ache in her chest intensify, hearing Gannicus speak in such a way. "Gannicus . . . " She breathed, but could not say more right now. Instead, listening to him speak of the shackles he wilingly took, of lacking desire to want to rid himself of them . . . the kiss a welcome distraction as Melitta closed her eyes, melting into it. But when he spoke the latter statement, her heart sank and fear erupted through her.

her hand still on his cheek, large eyes looking intently at him, and trying to still her storm of emotions, enough to attempt convincing him to forget such thoughts. For she knew he meant them. She knew he would do whatever it took to raise coin and . . . she was terrified of what that may entail. "Do not make such promises," she practically begged of him. "Please." A less subtle beg. "For there is no price that will see to my freedom. Lucretia will not have it so. And I will not have you place yourself in danger for futile attempt." Her voice was stern, tone soft but there was a concerning strength to it.

"The only comfort found, is knowledge that you have a life as a free man. Free from bonds of slavery. Do not sullen this blessing for you with promises of freedom for us both. I can not bare the thought of what it may cost." And the fear of it, made a tear slide down her cheek, unable to restrain the emotion any longer. The thought of harm coming to Gannicus in his endeavor enough to elicit the strong emotional reaction.

tag: Gannicus
notes:

We do what we must in this house.

crafted by Molly Josephine ☁

[Gannicus]

god of the arena She asked him to not make a promise. They both knew it would not be one kept with ease, but one he would risk life for. What else was he to do with it? He had no purpose. His life had been as a slave, and only in her arms had he seen beyond the arena and glory. Now they took her from him, from the arena. He would not die a champion but a memory. His name fading with time as the one who was undefeated and disappeared--not the one who fought with honor and died the same. He would waste away rather then die with that honor--and he would have gladdly given up honor if she remained with him. "Melitta," he said her name softly, "the only promise I can give is the one where I will find you again." He would spend his life trying, no matter the cost to body and life. "The Batiatus will grow desperate for coin. We've seen before how he hides shame from lack of coin. I will wait until moment is right, and make high offer. Then take you away before mind can change." He just needed a way to earn the coin. The Roman's love blood. He'd heard of the Pit, there was other such places that he could fight for coin. He was the fucking champion of capua! He would use that to gain her freedom. Even if it took all the years he had left.

^{TAG Melitta}