The battle had been won. Roma Victor! The great Gladiator had been slain, or
so they thought. Unconscious from the blood loss, yes, but not dead. Not
dead. A few people inside the palace walls knew the Roman General hadn't
perished after all and his survival now was of the utmost importance.

Mia had watched him fight against the emperor that day and had marveled then
at his strength and agility. But now as he lay before her on the bed, still
unconscious and sweaty from the fever, she saw a different man. He still
looked the same physically, but there was something else in his face as she
watched him day after day. There was a peace about him now that had been
impossible to see when he'd fought in the coliseum and part of her wished
that he could stay in the peaceful sleep forever.

This was the only task Mia had been assigned to for several days at the
palace and she took it seriously. She never left the gladiator's side unless
it was absolutely necessary. Leaning down, she soaked a strip of cloth in
the cool water basin at her feet and lay it gently across the man's
forehead. His fever had yet to break in the course of a week and he had not
once opened his eyes. Mia slept fitfully curled around his body as best she
could to keep track of his body temperature and there had been a few times
that he'd thrashed about, calling out in his dream. She wondered if he ever
would open his eyes again on this world.
Pulling back the sheets from his naked body, Mia tossed them to a corner of
the room to be replaced by fresh linens after she'd given him his bath. This
was the part of the day she dreaded. Seeing the muscular body on the bed
gave the slave girl thoughts that weren't proper. This man was, after all
the savior of Rome, not someone that once awake, would cast a second glance
at someone of her stature. Mia took another basin with warm water and few
more linens to the bedside to begin her chore, always starting with his
beautiful face and working her way down.

As she bathed him, her thoughts raced as they always did while she worked on
him. He had a beautiful face and she found herself wondering for the
hundredth time what his eye looked like up close. She knew the reason she
spent every minute with him and the thoughts ashamed her. This was the
closest she would ever be able to get to this man. Two nights ago when she'd
been bold enough to snuggle against his side in the bed, she tried to
justify it by telling herself that it was to make sure his fever didn't
worsen during his nightmares but in truth it was because she wanted to know
what it would feel like to have his body next to hers.

Mia was one of the few women in the palace that had been spared from
Commodus. She hadn't been used for his amusement the way several of the
other slaves had been. Lucilla had spared her that indignity by assigning
her to the child, Lucius. Mia was young and what her sister would call
'intact' and Mistress Lucilla had promised to keep it that way as long as
she possibly could. Not that it would ever do me any good, Mia mused. She
knew there were few outlets from her current station and no one of any
importance would want to marry a slave, intact or not. Her saving grace had
always been her beauty. She'd been bought as a child and brought to the
palace along with her older sister to be raised as palace slaves. This was
were she'd grown up from the age of ten. Lucilla had told her once that it
was her beauty that had prompted her purchase; it simply wouldn't do to have
ugly slaves.
Mia stopped her chore for a moment to look at the mirror hanging next to the
bed. She didn't see what all the fuss was about. Her hair was long and
black, not the color of the morning sun like Lucilla's. Her eyes were the
shape of almond nuts and the same dark color as her hair. Her skin was
darker than everyone else in the palace too, but not as dark as the man
she'd seen fighting in the arena next to her gladiator. Mia had been told
she'd come from the Far East, although she wasn't sure what that meant, or
where it was. Truth be told, she found herself homely compared to the fair
skinned women of the palace.
Turning back to the man on the bed, Mia's breath caught as she saw his open
eyes staring up at her. There was a smile on his face.

"I've missed you," he whispered, before closing his eyes once again and
drifting back to the place that gave him peace.

Mia stood rooted to the spot for a moment, staring at him in amazement. He'd
spoken. It had only been a whisper but it was enough to give her hope for
his recovery. What he'd said puzzled her, however. He'd never seen her
before, how could he miss her? Remembering his fever, Mia rationalized it
must have been delirium that had caused it.

Picking up the cloth once more, she began to wash him, trying to focus on
the task at hand and not let her mind wander too far. All of her attempts
were in vain. She'd been able to contain her wayward mind until she saw the
dark patch of hair that started on his lower stomach, growing thicker the
further down her eyes traveled. Mia had seen what was nestled in that dark
patch and her body never failed to react to it. She wondered what it would
be like to lay with this man and have him take her.

Wetting the cloth again, Mia closed here eyes as she took the appendage in
her hand and ran the wet towel over it, feeling it harden against her palm.
She knew it was a natural reaction, but every time it happened a feeling of
joy coursed through her veins. As always, the burning sensation began in her
lower abdomen and the inside of her thighs became slick with her own juices.

Mia suddenly felt guilty, as if she were doing something improper. She was
just giving him a bath, but why was she enjoying it so much? Washing his
legs and feet as quickly as she could, she threw the cloth back in the basin
and left the room briefly to get a clean sheet to cover his body before
beginning her work on his wound.

The puncture mark was clean and had not bled for more than a day, but she
took the antiseptic tonic and poured a liberal amount over it, catching the
excess with a clean rag. Mia covered the wound again and stepped back to
look at her gladiator. "My Maximus," she whispered. "At least for now,
you're my Maximus."

Some days she would just sit and watch him after her chores with him were
done. On others, she would read to him because she was a well-educated
slave. There were days she just wanted to be close to him so she would trim
his beard or try to spoon water into his mouth, sometimes he would swallow
reflexively and sometime he would not. Today she did nothing, just sat at
his bedside with her hand on his chest, listening to him breathe.

At least once a day, Mistress Lucilla and Lucius would come into his room
and look at him as well. At first, during these visits, Mia would leave the
room and wait in the corridor for them to leave, but after a while, Lucilla
had told her to stay. They would just come in and watch him, much like Mia
was doing now. Hoping and asking the Gods for a recovery.

It was late when they came this time, young Lucius was already dressed for
bed. Mia excitedly told them that the general had opened his eyes earlier in
the day. This made Lucilla smile. "You're doing an excellent job of taking
care of him, Mia," she'd said, before turning with her son to leave. "You
will be rewarded for your efforts."

After they were gone, Mia turned back to her gladiator. Don't they know that
being here with him for this time is reward enough for me? Turning down the
oil lamps and letting her hair down from its clips, she climbed onto the bed
next to him, wrapping her arms around his neck and cradling his head to her
breast. "Sleep well, my Maximus," she whispered, before letting her eyes
drift closed.
***

Maximus woke in the dark, trying to recognize where he was. He was hot and
his skin was sticky with sweat. As he tried to sit up, he noticed he was not
alone in the bed. There was someone next to him. He looked at her as he
stirred and a smile of recognition played at his lips.

Seeing her there made his heart thump harder in his chest and there was a
stirring in his groin. He rolled onto his side to look at her better,
wincing as a sharp pain coursed along his ribcage. He didn't give the pain
much notice however. At this moment he had the strength of a hundred men
because she was there with him. Smiling, he lifted her heavy hair to place
kisses on her soft skin. "I'm home, my love, and I will never leave you
again."
***

Mia woke feeling hands gliding across the fine silk of her dress and feather
light kisses against her cheek. In her dreams it had been Maximus doing
these things to her, telling her he would never leave her. It was a pleasant
dream and she tried desperately to sink back to the realm of sleep. Her eyes
opened with a start as the hands that roamed her body in her dreams began to
lift the soft fabric from her skin. She could still feel them as she tried
to shake off the last tendrils, certain her over active imagination had
finally carried her away. Movement in the bed beside her told her it was not
her imagination. Maximus looked down at her, the smile on his face making
her heart want to stop. The feel of his hands on her skin made her burn with
desire. He was speaking to her, whispering words that she couldn't
comprehend. It sounded like it was in a tongue foreign from her own.

He leaned over her then, kissing her lips gently, letting his tongue snake
out to lick her bottom lip before pulling it into his mouth and giving it a
light nibble.

Mia's breath caught in her chest and she let out a small whimper of
pleasure, causing Maximus to delve further into her mouth. She opened
willingly to him, letting him caress her tongue with his own. It only took
her a few moments before she was accustomed to the dance and began to
participate, letting her tongue swirl against his in a passionate kiss.

Maximus lifted one big hand to run it through the silky strands of her hair
before letting it trail down her body, coming to rest on her breast. Through
the material, he began to massage her, twisting a sensitive nipple between
thumb and forefinger. Mia gasped again at this new sensation, the fire in
her belly now burning out of control and far hotter than it had ever burned
before. Her own sticky essence that had begun to flow at his kiss now came
in a gush and she rolled her head back as a spasm rocked her core.

Maximus was pleased with her response to him and he began to pull at her
clothing, separating the fabric to allow him better access to her body.
Again, he was speaking to her in his own native tongue, expecting her to
understand every word. Mia lay there, letting him explore her body with his
mouth and hands, trying to come back to herself after the sensations that
had just rendered her incapable of movement. She would moan as he spoke,
enjoying the sound of his voice and what he was doing to her.

It wasn't until he touched her most intimate place with the tip of one
finger that Mia became rigid with fear. All along she'd known it was going
to come to this, but she found she was unprepared for the contact. Maximus
felt her tense and responded with soft cooing, punctuating each verbal
statement with a soft kiss. Slowly she relaxed and he was able to pry her
legs apart, finding the sensitive bundle again. His lips locked over hers in
a soul-crushing kiss as he worked his finger around the spot, making her
legs quake from the sensation. Mia let her hand rise to touch his face, and
then she stroked his short hair before letting her fingers come to rest at
the base of his neck.

Taking her other hand in his own, Maximus directed her to the place he
needed attention, showing her briefly how to stroke his member to bring him
pleasure. He groaned as her small hand closed around his rigid shaft and he
leaned back down for another kiss, her hand picking up a rhythm of its own
as she gently moved against him.

Mia was lost in the sensation as Maximus began working at her center,
letting his fingers touch the damp curls at the apex of her legs. She opened
her legs wider for him, begging for something although she wasn't quite sure
what. He obliged her, trailing his finger down to the entrance of her
soaking slit, teasing her with it before inserting it into her.

The burning was back and Mia gasped as the wave took her away. Maximus
smiled down as he took her hand away from his organ and moved above her,
replacing her hand with his own as he positioned himself. Her opening was
still pulsating from the pleasure spasm he'd given her as he slipped the tip
of his engorged cock inside her silky sheath.

Mia's eyes opened wide as she looked up at him, she tried to speak, to tell
him that she'd never done this, but he silenced her with a kiss. Slowly, he
encased the rest of himself within her. Mia tried not to cry out at the
exquisite torture this man, her Maximus, was wreaking on her body. She
buried her face in his neck and bit down on his shoulder, tasting the
saltiness of his skin.

After a long excruciating minute, he began to move inside her, pulling
himself out of her before pummeling back in to the hilt. Mia's primal
instincts took over for her inexperience and she began to lift her hips to
meet each of his thrusts, feeling wave after wave of pleasure rock through
her. Maximus let out a low grumble of satisfaction as their coupling grew
more intense, letting himself piston in and out of her with ferocious speed.
Mia reached another high point in her experience with him and he could feel
her intimate muscles grab at his shaft, milking him as she moaned her
pleasure. The sensation of her tight sheath squeezing him hard in a rhythmic
pulsing sent him to his peak and then tumbling over the edge of sheer
ecstasy. Maximus threw back his head and howled as he pounded into her one
final time, spurting his hot essence deep within her.

They held onto each other for a few minutes after it was done. Time seemed
to slip away there in the confines of their embrace. Finally, Maximus moved
to lay on his side, folding Mia possessively to him. His breathing was
slower now and the sweat on his body had begun to dry. He was drifting
swiftly back into sleep. Mia smiled to herself, completely sated from her
encounter with the Roman General. Her smile faded as he spoke in the
darkness in nothing more than a whisper. "I love you my little one, my
beloved wife."

Mia's heart broke in two as she realized what had happened here this night.
She, like everyone else, knew that Maximus had no wife, not any more. She
was dead along with his son. Sure that he was asleep, she loosed his grip on
her body and slid from the bed, arranging her dress around her again as she
went. Turning to look back at her gladiator, she touched his forehead with a
hand that no longer belonged to his lover, but of the slave girl that
watched over him. Just as she had suspected when she'd comprehended his
whispers, Mia took her hand away. The fever had finally broken.

THE END