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DISCLAIMER: This story is based upon the film Gladiator. All of the characters depicted in this do not belong to me! They belong to the writer of Gladiator, David Franzoni.*Oh, yeah, part of this story contains material that is only suitable for adults! So, if you're underage, or easily offended, don't read it!*
Nearly a month had passed since Maximus had died but Lucilla couldn't stop thinking about him. He haunted her dreams every night and she often found herself thinking about him during the day. She often replayed the moments before his death back in her mind, wondering if there was any way in which she could have averted it. But what angered her most was that she had never had the chance to tell him that she loved him.
Their time together in the past had been wonderful and she had felt deeply for him. But he had been called away to battle and she had married and had a son, Lucius. Word reached her that Maximus had married and had a son.
When she had seen him again, back at the camp in Germania, she realised the same old feelings for him had returned. After that, they never really went away. But she had never told him how she felt. And now it was too late.
She thought of the one moment of emotion they had shared not too long before his last battle. The guards had chained him up in case he tried to attack Lucilla and they had talked, plotted against Commodus and then she had kissed him. It had been a gesture of friendship and forgiveness more than anything but Lucilla couldn't help wondering if it could have developed into something more. Now she would never know. Her thoughts returned to the present again. She still lived in the grand palace of Rome, despite the senate being given power again, and with her son she shared many happy times. But there was still the nagging thought of Maximus
Lucilla left her bed chambers and drifted towards the bed chambers of her son to wish him goodnight. She pushed the curtain aside and entered her son's room. He was sitting in the middle of the floor, playing with the toy coliseum that had once belonged to Commodus.
"I shall not kill another man in the ring!" shouted the boy in a gruff voice, "for I am Maximus Meridias!" Lucilla blanched at the mention of Maximus' name.
"Time to go to sleep now Lucius," she said quietly, "You can play again tomorrow, after your lessons."
"Oh, mother, do I really have to go to boring old lessons?" he whined.
"Yes. You want to grow up to be an important member of the senate, don't you?" The boy nodded. "Then you must go to school."
The boy sighed, a display of defeat. "Oh, all right," he groaned, climbing into his bed. Lucilla sat on the edge of the bed and looked at him. He meant the world to her and she did not want to lose him to anyone. She didn't think she could bear to lose another person she loved. First her husband, then her father, then Maximus; it was all too painful. Tears welled up in her eyes.
"Mother, are you crying?" Lucius asked, looking concerned. Quickly, she wiped the tears away.
"No, no. The weak light just hurts my eyes. Now go to sleep. And in the morning, all will be well," she reached out and stroked his fair hair. Lucius closed his eyes then. Soon, he was asleep.
Lucilla returned to her bed chambers and called for her servant. Helena entered the room and went to her Lady's side.
"Yes, m'Lady?" she asked quietly.
"I need to pray. Can you distract the guards for me?" she asked in a hushed tone. Helena nodded.
"Go now, I will only need a few minutes," Lucilla instructed. The young woman nodded and ran from the room.
Recently, Lucilla had become tired of the palace walls and so she had become accustomed to sneaking out of the palace at night to pray or just to walk through the city. She would disguise herself by wearing a long, hooded cloak and she found she could walk through the city unmolested. No one knew about this ritual yet and she hoped no one would either. If only the Senate knew! Sister to Caesar, walking the streets with the commoners, and the lepers! What would they think? She smiled lightly. It was the first time she had smiled in over a month.
She dressed in her cowl and crept through the darkened palace. She got to the main doors unnoticed but turned when she heard a sound from a room nearby. It was the sound of an upset woman. Sylph-like, she crept over to the marble archway that marked the entrance to the room. Inside, the palace guards were gathered around Helena, who was stood on a chair, wailing.
"I saw it! I saw a big, ugly rat!" she was screeching.
"I don't see anything," one guard replied.
"Neither do I," remarked another.
"Well, it's probably gone now! You've spent so much time fussing around here!" Helena retorted. She looked over and noticed Lucilla standing by the door, a grin spreading across her face. How relieved she was to see her mistress smiling again! Lucilla nodded a thanks at her. Helena smiled. It was as if they were friends, co-conspirators, rather than maid and mistress. With another nod, Lucilla slipped away quietly.
Lucilla breathed a sigh of relief. She had felt almost claustrophobic back at the palace. Now she was able to relax. She didn't always feel trapped at the palace. She would never grow weary of the palace and all it's luxuries. Sometimes, she just needed space.
She walked briskly through the streets of Rome, knowing exactly where she wanted to go. The streets were still busy this time of night, with women selling home-made items, street performers and others, men and women who lurked in darker corners, offering their services for the right price. Lucilla shuddered. She could never imagine being forced to sell herself to stay alive.
She found the church and pushed open the heavy wooden doors. She entered, forcing them shut behind her. Inside, the church was empty. Candles glowed at the altar, illuminating brass statues of the deities. She moved down the aisle towards them. She knelt down at the altar in front of them, crossed herself and began to pray.
"Oh, gods, I ask you to protect my son, Lucius. Let him grow up to be brave and honourable. Bless the Senate: may they continue for many years. Bless me and give me strength. Bless the soul of Maximus. Let him be remembered always, let him..., let him..." she lowered her head and began to weep bitterly. She didn't know why she was crying. But the tears still came, rolling down her cheeks, splashing her cowl.
"Are you the Lady Lucilla?" asked a voice from behind her.
Slowly, she turned her head towards the voice. An old man, with white hair and beard was looking at her. He looked like a beggar with his tattered clothes and scruffy appearance. Lucilla also noticed, with horror, that he only had one leg. He was holding himself up with a makeshift crutch.
She got over the initial shock and asked, in her most authoritative tone: "Who are you?"
"They call me Metellus. You are the Lady Lucilla?"
She nodded curiously. The man may have appeared scruffy but his eyes were wise, despite one being a strange, milky colour. She realised he was blind in one eye.
"You still grieve for the one they call 'The Spaniard', yes?"
She nodded again.
"If your faith is strong enough, you can bring him back," the old man said cryptically.
Lucilla looked at him, curious. "What are you talking about, old man?" she challenged him.
"Magic," he hissed in her ear, "There are ways," he paused, more for dramatic effect, Lucilla guessed, than for anything else, "There are ways to bring him back from the underworld."
"What ways? And how can you be so sure he is in the underworld?" Lucilla inquired.
"I just know," he said pointedly. "Well, do you want to bring him back or not?" Metellus was clearly getting agitated.
"How do I know you're not just a sham?" she asked, raising her voice just a little.
"Watch," the old man hissed again.
Then, before Lucilla's eyes he took a candle from the altar and held it in the palm of his hand. He ran his hands over the lighted candle and muttered something in Latin. Suddenly, the candle sparked and after a great flash of light the candle transformed into a white dove. The dove hesitated in Metellus' hand for no more than a second before flying off high into the rafters somewhere. Lucilla gasped and took a step backwards. "Do not be afraid. Just know that this is very powerful magic. It is the magic of the gods," he croaked. Lucilla nodded.
She knew that if she accepted the old man's help she might end up in a situation she couldn't control. But then she thought of Maximus. I could bring him back! She thought wildly.
"What do I have to do?" she asked, her voice wavering.
"Take these," Metellus said, taking two scrolls from his tattered robe. He handed them to her. Nervously, she accepted them. "Then, when the moon is full perform the ritual at the statue of Genita-Mana and he will come back to you."
Lucilla recognised the name of Genita-Mana. She was the Roman goddess of life and death.
"Thank you," she responded solemnly. Then, she reached into the folds of her cowl and brought out several shiny gold coins. "For your loyalty."
Metellus took the coins. "The next full moon is in two days," he said simply. She nodded in acknowledgment. "Now you must leave. Go back to your son. He will be waking up soon."
Slowly, Lucilla turned and walked back down the aisle towards the door. She turned around to take one more look at Metellus but he had disappeared. Lucilla gasped. Where had he gone?
Outside the church, Lucilla took a deep breath of the night air. In the distance, she could see the first glow of dawn on the horizon. Had she really been in the church all night? She swore that she hadn't been in there for more than half an hour at the most. She made her way through the streets wondering where the old man had gone and how he had known that she had a son.
The two days passed swiftly and by the night of the full moon Lucilla was unbelievably tense. Secretly, she had been sending Helena out into the streets of Rome to purchase all of the ingredients needed for the ritual: "half a measure of alcohol, a handful of soil from the deceased's grave, the blood of any living thing, an item belonging to the deceased, a candle and red rose petals," the scroll had said.
So far, the hardest thing to get had been the blood. Helena had waited by a stall selling chickens until the attendant had chopped the head off one poor animal. She had captured the blood in a small cup. There wasn't much of it but Lucilla hoped it would do.
The item belonging to the deceased was the small wooden models of his wife and child. They had been buried just below the surface of the soil on top of his grave in the now deserted coliseum.
That evening, Lucilla sat through a meal with the Senate but all she could think about was the upcoming ritual. Soon, it got late, and the Senate went home. She put Lucius to bed and then crept out into the grounds where statues of all the gods stood, silent and unmoving. The moonlight shone onto them, making the marble figures glow. She soon located the statue of Genita-Mana. By the light of the moon, she set up the altar for her ritual. Then, she began to perform the ritual- she had memorized every inch of it and knew exactly what to do.
"Quod perditum, est, in venietur," she muttered. "What was lost, shall be found."
She poured the alcohol into a bowl with the soil. Then, she stirred it with a stick.
"Oh, gracious goddess, Genita-Mana, bring back what was taken from us," she poured the blood into the bowl, turning the light brown mixture a dark maroon colour.
"My faith I offer, my praise I offer for you to bring back the one called Maximus Meridias," as she said the name, she began to weep. Still, she carried on. She lit up the alcohol with the candle. A bright blue flame ignited with a whoomph! Lucilla gasped and took a step back.
"I call upon you, goddess to bring him back to me!" she cried, her voice rising. Then, she threw the rose petals into the flame. The corners curled as they burned, and a strange smell, that of roses mixed with burning wood, met her nose.
"So mote it be," she finished quietly.
Then, she submerged the small wooden figures into the mixture. By now the flame had died down and the mixture was lukewarm.
Lucilla sat, watching, waiting for something to happen. She waited. Nothing. She continued to wait. Still nothing happened. Her shoulders slumped. She stood up and turned her back on the altar. How could I be such a fool to believe the word of a crazy old man? She thought to herself.
Behind her, back on the altar, something was happening. The mixture began to bubble and the bowl began to crack. The statue began to rumble, as did the ground around it. The bowl rattled noisily. Lucilla heard this and turned just in time to see the statue explode into a thousand pieces.
Guards and servants gathered quickly, the noise drawing them out. Lucilla slowly stood up and surveyed the damage around her. She was lucky she hadn't been hurt. A flying piece of stone had broken the nose of the statue of Zeus and there was nothing left of the statue of Genita-Mana but a spreading cloud of dust. No one else said anything. They were all curious to know how a massive statue could just explode. Lucilla peered into the cloud of dust. Vaguely, she could make out a shape in the dust cloud. She squinted, straining to see the shape. Suddenly, she realised it was coming towards her! She took a step back and the guards raised their spears.
Then, out of the dust emerged the figure of a man. Lucilla's eyes widened. Immediately, she recognised the battle armour- his Lorica Segmentata. Two horses and a tree were emblazoned on the front. It was him! He was alive. Lucilla felt suddenly faint. She swayed from side to side as Maximus came closer.
"Maximus!" she cried and started to collapse. But he caught her in his waiting arms. That was the last thing Lucilla remembered before she blacked out.
When she awoke, Lucilla found herself in her bed chamber, lying on her bed. At first, she didn't know where she was but soon, the room came into sharp focus. Oil lamps were lit all around the room, enveloping it in an orange glow. She struggled to remember how she got there. She found that she didn't know. The last thing she remembered was collapsing into Maximus' arms. But Maximus is dead. You saw Commodus kill him yourself, Lucilla thought to herself. Then, suddenly, she remembered. She remembered the spell, the statue exploding and Maximus emerging from the cloud of dust. Then where is he? She thought, He would be here if it really happened wouldn't he? For a fleeting moment she thought that maybe she had been having another dream but as she raised her hand to rub her eyes she caught an odour. She turned her hand over and sniffed her open palm. It was the strong smell of alcohol.
"It really happened." she murmured softly. She looked around the room. Shadows lurked in the corners of the room, places where the light couldn't touch. Slowly, she sat up. As she moved, a figure detached itself from the shadows in one corner and move towards her. It was Maximus. She nearly screamed but when Lucilla realised who it was she relaxed again.
He had been sitting in a chair in the corner watching her for several minutes. She looked very peaceful when she was asleep. And very beautiful, too, he had thought, taking in her creamy skin and soft chestnut hair, which was curled into ringlets and piled on top of her head.
Now, he made his way over to her bedside. He stood over her. Lucilla gazed up at him. From her position, he was a giant. She stood up slowly. Her legs still felt weak and being in his intense presence didn't help.
They turned to face each other. Lucilla stared up into his eyes. They were blue and, as he looked at her, she felt that they could penetrate her soul.
"Why did you bring me back?" he asked slowly.
"I don't know," she replied quietly.
The truth was, she did know. But how could she tell him that she had brought him back because she loved him, and that she couldn't live without him?
"Did you find them?" she asked.
"Find who?"
"Your wife, and your son," she answered. She knew that he had always believed that he would meet them again, in the afterlife.
"No," he answered stonily.
"I'm sorry," she replied sincerely.
"So am I. I remember nothing of it," he answered after a short pause.
Lucilla gazed at him sadly. After all he fought for, she had let him die for no reason. She too had believed he would go to a better place and so she had let him die. But it seemed that it was not so.
"I shouldn't have let you die. I should have tried to help you," she said, almost bitterly.
"You didn't know, neither of us did," he answered quietly, looking away from her.
Lucilla stood up and walked around him so that she could see his face. She noticed that his eyes were damp and red-rimmed.
"I'm sorry, I really am," she whispered, wondering if bringing him back had been such a good idea after all.
"It's okay," he answered, trying to be strong. He didn't want her to see him weeping like this, "I'm just tired," he lied.
She knew that Maximus was lying but she didn't say anything. She just sighed.
"Alright, I've arranged for you to sleep in a room down the hall, Come on," she replied, leading him out of her room.
That night, as Maximus slept, he dreamed. He was riding his horse through the wheat fields surrounding his farm. The wind whistled around his head, clearing his mind of all thought and feeling. Suddenly, the scenery changed and the place that had once been his home was now nothing but a charred patch of land. Just ahead of him, he could see a figure standing quite still, not moving, and not making any noise at all. The horse suddenly noticed the figure and reared up in fright, throwing Maximus off.
He landed on the ground hard. At first, he was breathless but he soon recovered and slowly stood up, his back hurting. The figure was still standing in the same place, obviously not affected by the horse's reaction to him. 'I wonder why he bucked like that,' Maximus thought, watching the horse as it galloped away across the land.
"It's because I'm dead!" the figure shouted almost gleefully.
Maximus looked at the figure more closely. He realised it was a face he knew, a face from the past- Commodus.
"How did you hear that?" Maximus demanded.
"I hear many things," he answered, still in the same gleeful tone. It was then that Maximus realised: he wasn't happy at all. The tone was that of a man who was stark, raving mad.
Maximus clenched his fists, ready to throw a punch at any moment.
"Now isn't the time for fighting, Gladiator! No, not the time," he giggled maniacally.
"Then why am I here?" Maximus asked, becoming agitated.
"Well, now that you're alive this is the only way I can speak with you. I have a message," Commodus said, lowering his voice.
"Who from?" Maximus asked, also lowering his voice.
"Me!" Commodus lapsed into giggles again. He sounded like a girl.
"What's the message?" Maximus asked, growing weary of the game. Commodus leaned in so that he was so close to Maximus' face that he could feel Commodus' breath on his cheek. Suddenly, Commodus' face changed. The madness in his eyes cleared to reveal pure, unchained rage.
"I am glad I killed you."
Maximus didn't say anything. He just continued to stare at the man.
"I had my vengeance when I killed you, " Commodus spat.
"This is just a dream. You are dead. You cannot hurt me here," Maximus retorted, challenging him.
"Oh, can't I?" Commodus smiled then, an evil smile.
Suddenly, he punched Maximus, hard. Maximus stumbled backwards, holding a hand to his face. Commodus laughed. Maximus removed his hand and saw that there was blood on it. Seeing this, and the stream of blood running down his face, Commodus laughed even harder.
Maximus looked at the blood on his hands, bewildered. The scene slowly began to fade and then, before his eyes, the scene changed. The golden wheat fields were back. And there, standing over him like a guardian angel, was his wife Selene. She was smiling.
"Maximus, look at me," she said.
He gazed up at her. "I never found you," he mumbled, still reeling from the punch he had received.
"You weren't meant to. You were meant to go back, to be with her," Selene answered, without a trace of bitterness in her voice.
"That is my destiny?" he asked. She nodded.
"I give you my blessing," she smiled again.
"For what?" he asked.
"Goodbye Maximus," she said simply. Then, before he could answer she was gone and the wheat fields faded away.
Slowly, Maximus opened his eyes. He was still in the palace, lying under silk and cotton sheets, which were now soaked with sweat. His skin glistened in the dim light. It had been a bad dream, so vivid. He reached up to his face. To his horror, he felt a wetness around his nose. When he removed his hand, he was shocked to find it was covered in blood.
He got out of bed and went over to the wash bowl in the corner of the room and began to wash the sweat off his body. The water felt cool against his bare skin. When he was finished he sat on the bed, thinking. What had Selene given him her blessing for? For being with Lucilla?
He stood and wandered around the grand hallways of the palace until he found Lucilla's room. Cautiously, he ventured inside. To his surprise, he found that Lucilla was sitting up on her bed and looking towards the doorway. Her eyes lit up when she saw him.
"I hoped you'd come," she said quietly.
"I had a dream," Maximus answered.
"What kind of a dream?" she asked, standing up.
"Commodus. He came to me in my dreams. He hit me- and look," Maximus replied, indicating his bloody nose.
"How can it be?" Lucilla asked, shocked.
"I don't know."
"But why?" she asked, frightened.
"I don't know. I saw Selene. She gave me her blessing," he told her.
"For what?" she asked him, gazing into his eyes.
"For this."
Then, as she gazed at him, he pulled her face to his and they kissed. At first it was cautious but it soon developed into the most passionate kiss of their lives. Lucilla had never kissed anyone like that before, and she immediately knew she never would again. She parted her lips and he pushed his tongue into her mouth. She responded eagerly.
He pulled her closer to him so that her breasts pushed against his bare chest. He could feel her warmth from beneath the night gown she wore. They pulled apart, breathing heavily.
"I've always loved you Maximus," she breathed.
Almost in reply, Maximus pulled her into his arms again and kissed her. This time, he tugged at her night gown. When he realised he could not remove it, he used his large, strong hands to rip the delicate fabrics. As they ripped, Lucilla gasped as her bare flesh was exposed to the chill air. She stood, naked before him, looking at his face for some kind of a reaction. His face was expressionless but his eyes told a different story. They clearly showed how much he wanted her, needed her.
Gently, he picked her up and laid her down on the bed. Slowly, meticulously, he began to kiss every inch of her body. Lucilla moaned with pleasure and closed her eyes.
He worked his way back up to her face again and kissed her hard on the lips. She wrapped her arms around him and pulled him down to her. She could feel his weight on top of her and feel his hardness pushing against her thigh.
Slowly, she moved her hands down to his waist and undid the cloth he slept in. It fell to the floor. She ran her hands over his back and further down and back up again. She then moved her hand to the front and grabbed hold of his manhood. Slowly, deliberately, she began to move her hand up and down along the length of it.
She looked at him. He had closed his eyes and a low moan escaped his throat. She kept the rhythm steady and his breathing quickened. She knew that she was satisfying him but she wanted to be satisfied too. She removed her hand and wrapped it around his neck and pulled him onto her.
"I want you," she whispered. He nodded.
She parted her legs and let him position himself. Then, without warning, he thrust into her as gently, yet as passionately as he could. She gasped. He was new to her, although as he began a slow and gentle motion, she relaxed, feeling herself melt into him.
She let out a low moan as he moved his hand to touch her where no man had ever touched her in that way before. She closed her eyes. Bright lights exploded in the blackness. She opened her eyes again with a gasp. He was now moving in and out of her more swiftly, letting out the occasional grunt of pleasure every now and then. She grabbed his buttocks, trying to push him further into her. Then, with a roar, he came. She was so nearly there that he kept going. She finally came to a frenzied, burning climax.
They lay there for a long time, wrapped up in each other; legs intertwined with legs and arms wrapped around each other.
When their breathing slowed, she said: "I love you."
"I love you, too," he answered, kissing her. She smiled.
They spent the rest of the night making love in every way they could think of, and when the morning came, they awoke to a new day with endless possibilities. Whatever happened from then on, they would have each other.
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