Sorry this took so long. Because there is more winery!au up there and more cop!Brad and FBI!Nate, I decided on this instead. Ignore my complete and utter fuckery of accepted historical fact. I couldn’t very well have Nate sneaking into the ludus magnus to get his rocks off, could I? Ugh, setting this in the time of empire was an ill-conceived notion. OH WELL, we’re here now.
So let’s say that Nate’s sister does something stupid the next time they go see the games and somehow the timely intervention of Brad saves her life, so as a reward Nate’s dad purchases Brad as a household slave and as a bodyguard for Nate’s sister. Because, you know, Nate could protect her, but the next time Nate’s legion goes off conquering he has to leave and obviously can’t take her with him. Also, he is a very important man and must go off time-wasting with other wastrels of the senatorial class. Thus, enter Brad, the bodyguard.
*
There were a good number of young men in the domus aside from Nate himself, but the sudden importation of the Suione—Brad, the lanista had called him—caused a stir. He was one of the tallest men any of them had ever beheld. Nate had only seen taller off the African coast.
He kept stumbling upon him, standing to the side, taciturn and still. He seemed so curious, unlike anybody Nate had ever met. He found Brad’s steel-eyed gaze slightly daunting. Nearly every time he saw him Nate was compelled to ask Brad about himself, but every time he remembered the awkward audience at the ludus, Brad standing before him, arms held to his sides, like he was horse flesh on display. The thought made his stomach turn.
He walked out onto the peristyle seeking some sun and found Brad engaged in a near silent game of tabula with his adoring sister. He backed right out again onto the hem of his mother’s dress. “Nate, what is the meaning of this?” she said, tugging her skirts away from his feet. Two slaves reached out to straighten the stola he’d pulled into disarray.
He bit his lip. “I apologize, I find myself out of sorts.”
She batted the slaves away and shot him a hard look. “You’ve been out sorts for nearly a fortnight. Whatever has possessed you to wander around like a timid rabbit?”
“I…” he didn’t answer quickly enough.
She looked past him at the little garden terrace where Brad and Julia were playing. “Is it the Suione?”
“No—”
“You faced down Decebalus’s warrior hoards. Surely you aren’t unnerved by a simple gladiator?”
“Mother, I do not fear him, he simply—I am unsure of his measure.”
She nodded. “I fear little Julia is in love.”
Nate sighed.
His mother’s eyes sharpened upon him. “Try to master yourself. We have so little time before you leave us for Petra.”
Nate spread his hands before him in supplication and made a quick exit.
A few days later Nate found himself unable to sleep, he finally gave when with the weak dawn light streamed in through his window. He pulled on a simple tunic, two thick red vertical stripes down the fabric indicating his status as part of the senatorial class. The domus was deathly silent. Everybody else was safely ensconced in their beds.
When he went out into the atrium, he found Brad, clad only in subligaculum, running through sword formations on the fine sand. His body shone with sweat and he seemed so engrossed, moving with a quickness that his size should’ve made impossible. His two swords seemed to spin around him. Nate must’ve made some sound, because Brad’s sword arm dropped back to his side and he rotated to face Nate.
“Sorry,” Nate said and then cursed himself silently. He hardly needed to apologize to a slave in his own home.
Brad dipped his head and stepped back, ceding Nate space on the sand. Nate hesitated for a moment and then stepped off the slate tile to join him. It couldn’t hurt anybody to train with Brad, maybe he would even tire himself enough for rest. He ran through a few quick stretches and rotated his shoulders to loosen them. Everything felt stiff and tight. He didn’t know whether it was nerves or poor rest. He kept his back turned to Brad, because he knew he wouldn’t be able to concentrate at all if he looked at him.
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Gladiator!Brad Part 1
Date: 2010-02-27 08:40 pm (UTC)So let’s say that Nate’s sister does something stupid the next time they go see the games and somehow the timely intervention of Brad saves her life, so as a reward Nate’s dad purchases Brad as a household slave and as a bodyguard for Nate’s sister. Because, you know, Nate could protect her, but the next time Nate’s legion goes off conquering he has to leave and obviously can’t take her with him. Also, he is a very important man and must go off time-wasting with other wastrels of the senatorial class. Thus, enter Brad, the bodyguard.
*
There were a good number of young men in the domus aside from Nate himself, but the sudden importation of the Suione—Brad, the lanista had called him—caused a stir. He was one of the tallest men any of them had ever beheld. Nate had only seen taller off the African coast.
He kept stumbling upon him, standing to the side, taciturn and still. He seemed so curious, unlike anybody Nate had ever met. He found Brad’s steel-eyed gaze slightly daunting. Nearly every time he saw him Nate was compelled to ask Brad about himself, but every time he remembered the awkward audience at the ludus, Brad standing before him, arms held to his sides, like he was horse flesh on display. The thought made his stomach turn.
He walked out onto the peristyle seeking some sun and found Brad engaged in a near silent game of tabula with his adoring sister. He backed right out again onto the hem of his mother’s dress. “Nate, what is the meaning of this?” she said, tugging her skirts away from his feet. Two slaves reached out to straighten the stola he’d pulled into disarray.
He bit his lip. “I apologize, I find myself out of sorts.”
She batted the slaves away and shot him a hard look. “You’ve been out sorts for nearly a fortnight. Whatever has possessed you to wander around like a timid rabbit?”
“I…” he didn’t answer quickly enough.
She looked past him at the little garden terrace where Brad and Julia were playing. “Is it the Suione?”
“No—”
“You faced down Decebalus’s warrior hoards. Surely you aren’t unnerved by a simple gladiator?”
“Mother, I do not fear him, he simply—I am unsure of his measure.”
She nodded. “I fear little Julia is in love.”
Nate sighed.
His mother’s eyes sharpened upon him. “Try to master yourself. We have so little time before you leave us for Petra.”
Nate spread his hands before him in supplication and made a quick exit.
A few days later Nate found himself unable to sleep, he finally gave when with the weak dawn light streamed in through his window. He pulled on a simple tunic, two thick red vertical stripes down the fabric indicating his status as part of the senatorial class. The domus was deathly silent. Everybody else was safely ensconced in their beds.
When he went out into the atrium, he found Brad, clad only in subligaculum, running through sword formations on the fine sand. His body shone with sweat and he seemed so engrossed, moving with a quickness that his size should’ve made impossible. His two swords seemed to spin around him. Nate must’ve made some sound, because Brad’s sword arm dropped back to his side and he rotated to face Nate.
“Sorry,” Nate said and then cursed himself silently. He hardly needed to apologize to a slave in his own home.
Brad dipped his head and stepped back, ceding Nate space on the sand. Nate hesitated for a moment and then stepped off the slate tile to join him. It couldn’t hurt anybody to train with Brad, maybe he would even tire himself enough for rest. He ran through a few quick stretches and rotated his shoulders to loosen them. Everything felt stiff and tight. He didn’t know whether it was nerves or poor rest. He kept his back turned to Brad, because he knew he wouldn’t be able to concentrate at all if he looked at him.