Gladiators

Gladiators
Marcus

I watch Fiona across the table as she finishes the last of her meal, still trying to understand what she’s told me about herself. There are so many things about her that don’t quite make sense to me yet. She speaks carefully, as though each word is planned before it leaves her lips, yet there is nothing guarded in her eyes when she looks at me. That contradiction draws my attention more than I intend.

“You are quite mysterious,” I say. 

She gives me an uncertain smile. “Am I?”

“Yes,” I reply, setting my glass down. “And I’m very interested in getting to learn more about you, if you’ll permit me the honor.” 

She lowers her gaze briefly and then looks back up at me. There’s something so different about her. I’ve never met—or even seen for that matter—anyone quite like her before. I find myself speaking again before I fully decide to. “Fiona… would you like to stay in my guest bedroom tonight? You’ll be safe and comfortable there.” 

She pauses, perhaps in surprise, followed by consideration. “Are you certain? I have no way to repay you.”

“I’m certain, and you’d owe me nothing. It would not be proper to send you wandering the streets at this hour without knowing where you’ll sleep. I have many servants, several of them female, so I assure you, we will not be alone.”

She looks at me with those big blue eyes for a moment longer, and then nods. “I would appreciate that. Thank you, Marcus.”

“Of course,” I reply. 

We finish what remains of the food and wine, and I signal the barmaid to settle the bill. Leaving the tavern behind, we step into the dark streets, and I walk beside her, close enough to protect her from anyone who might be up to no good at this late hour.

After a moment, I ask her another question, hoping I’m not being too intrusive. “Fiona?” I begin. 

“Yes?”

“Were you able to speak with the priest of Venus yesterday morning? Did he help you?”

She looks down for a moment, her expression somber, and when she speaks, her voice loses its usual confidence. “No… he wasn’t able to help.”

“I see. I’m very sorry he could not assist you.”

She nods, but the disappointment remains in her expression. “Thank you.”

“I hope,” I continue, “that I may eventually be able to help you with whatever it is you’re seeking.”

She looks at me then, a sliver of hope returning to her gorgeous face. “Thank you, Marcus. That’s kind of you to say.”

I nod. “Of course. It’s simply the truth.”

We reach my house, and I open the door. Felix immediately runs in our direction, tail wagging excitedly as he approaches us. 

“Good evening, Felix," I say, scratching behind his ears. “I hope you were a good boy while I was gone.”

Fiona laughs and crouches beside him, reaching out to pet him, too. Felix leans into her touch, his tail thumping against the floor. “You’re quite the charmer, aren’t you?” she says. 

I grin and offer her a hand to help her up. “He’s got a soft spot for anyone who’ll give him attention or food.”

I lead her further inside, gesturing toward the guest room. “This is it,” I say. “It’s simple but comfortable.”

She looks around, taking in the room. “It’s more than I expected,” she says. “Thank you so much for your hospitality.”

“You’re more than welcome here,” I reply, looking at her and wondering what it would be like to kiss her perfect lips. Shaking the thought off quickly before I do something foolish, I ask, “Is there anything more I can do for you tonight?”

“Oh, Marcus, you’ve already done too much. No, thank you.” 

I nod. “Goodnight, Fiona.”

“Goodnight, Marcus.” Her gaze lingers for a moment longer than I expect. After a moment, she enters the room, and I leave her there, closing the door quietly behind me. 

“Felix,” I call softly, and my dog trots over. I pat his head before heading to my room, and he follows me, as always, curling up on the floor beside my bed.

I strip off my clothes as my mind races. I keep thinking about Fiona. I can’t shake the way she looked at me earlier, the mix of confidence and caution in her eyes. I’ve met countless women, but she’s unlike any of them.

I lie in bed, the house dark and silent, but sleep doesn’t come. I keep picturing her smile—the way it genuinely lit up her entire face. I wonder if she feels out of place here, in a city that’s so far from her home. I can’t help but feel protective of her and try to imagine how I can make her feel more at ease and more at home.

I close my eyes, but the image of her doesn't fade. It stays with me, and soon, I fall asleep, thoughts of Fiona filling my dreams.



The sun's just starting to rise when I wake up. Felix is on the floor beside the bed, lifting his head to look at me like he knows it’s time to get moving. I rub my eyes and sit up, trying to shake off the sleep. My thoughts immediately land on Fiona. I wonder if she’s awake. 

I hear a soft knock at the door. “Dominus?” Aurelia’s voice calls out.

“Come in,” I reply.

“Dominus,” she says, “would you like me to invite your guest to your breakfast table?”

I nod. “Yes, please.”

She bows and leaves. 

I get out of bed, stretch, dress quickly, and head for the table. Felix follows, looking up at me, waiting for his breakfast. 

I sit down at the table, and a few minutes later, Fiona walks in. She looks refreshed and very pretty this morning, even though she’s still in last night’s clothing. She’s pinned her hair up, the pale, almost white, curls gathered at the top of her head.

“Good morning,” she says.

“Good morning,” I reply, getting up to pull out the chair for her. “Did you sleep well?”

“I did, thank you,” she says, settling into the chair. She glances around at the table. “You have a stunningly beautiful home.”

“Thank you,” I say. “I’m glad you’re comfortable.”

She picks up some bread that Aurelia has set out for the table, dipping it into the oil. Felix immediately sits at her feet, watching her every move.

“You can give him some, if you want,” I say. “He always thinks he’s starving.”

Fiona laughs, breaking off a piece of the bread and feeding it to him. “I guess he’s spoiled.”

“Very spoiled,” I say with a laugh. 

Aurelia steps in with the plates, setting them down carefully in front of us. The eggs are perfectly cooked, still warm and steaming. She places a small bowl of olives beside each plate and leaves the bread within reach. “Is there anything else, Dominus?” she asks, looking between us.

"No, thank you, Aurelia," I reply. "This is wonderful."

Aurelia bows and leaves the room.

As Fiona and I eat our breakfast, I go over my plans for the day in my head.

“Fiona,” I say, glancing at her. “Would you like to join me at the festival today?”

She looks up from her plate, her eyes meeting mine. “I’d love that,” she says softly. “But I know you’ll be busy. Will you be distracted if I tag along?”

“I’ll be working most of the time, but the gladiator match is this afternoon. You’re welcome to join me if you wish.”

She smiles, a touch of relief in her expression. “Thank you. I’d enjoy that.”

By the time we finish breakfast, it's time to leave. I turn to Felix, who's sitting beside my leg under the table.

"Stay here, and be a good boy today for Aurelia, Felix. We will see you tonight." I pat his head. He whines but doesn’t stand when I step away. Turning to Fiona, I ask, “Shall we?” 

She nods, and we leave the house. The walk is relatively quiet, though I do point out a few buildings she may need to be aware of while she’s in the city. She smiles and notes lovely flowers and other parts of nature I often overlook.

When we reach the forum, I’m not surprised that it’s already packed with merchants and festival-goers, all bustling about in preparation for the day's events. Today, there will be games, performances, and later, the gladiator matches at the amphitheater. 

I see Quintus near a cluster of traders and make my way over to him, Fiona by my side. He’s speaking with a merchant, his attention on the exchange, but when he sees me, his face brightens.

“Marcus!” Quintus greets me, his voice easily heard over the noise of the crowd. “Glad to see you’ve made it this morning. Busy day ahead, eh?”

I nod, pointing to Fiona beside me. “Quintus, this is Fiona,” I say.

My friend shifts his attention to her, offering a friendly smile. “It’s a pleasure, Fiona. I’m Quintus.”

Fiona smiles back. “The pleasure is mine.” 

“Quintus is my right-hand man,” I explain. “He’s also my greatest friend, and perhaps later, you’ll meet his lovely wife and rambunctious children.” 

“I would love to meet them.” Her face brightens with genuine enthusiasm. 

“They will be here around lunchtime, as usual. You must join us for the noon meal, Fiona. But for now, I’m needed at the livestock market. I’ll see the two of you shortly.” Quintus waves and walks away.

Fiona and I both wave to him as he hurries off to attend to business, and I look over at her. “Would you like to help me with the priest of Jupiter’s ceremonial altars? I’ve got to move them from the temple to the shrine near the fountain.” 

“I would love to help,” she replies, smiling. 

The morning passes quickly as Fiona helps me with the priest of Jupiter’s altars and other tasks around the forum. By midday, we take a break and sit down for lunch with Quintus and his family. The meal is quick but pleasant, and Fiona clearly enjoys the company of Cornelia and the children. 

Afterward, I nod toward the amphitheater in the distance. “It’s time for the matches,” I say. “Shall we?”

She nods. “Yes, let’s.”

Fiona and I make our way through the streets toward the amphitheater. The roar of the crowd is deafening as we enter, and the air is thick with anticipation. The gladiators are being led into the arena, their weapons gleaming under the bright midday sun. 

We take our seats and I look over at her beside me, noticing the way she’s holding herself—a little too tense, eyes filled with curiosity—and I wonder if they even have gladiator matches in the north where she’s from.

The first match begins, and the energy shifts in the air, the crowd cheering as two gladiators circle each other, their swords raised. Fiona flinches at the first clash, and I catch the unease that passes over her face. I reach out instinctively, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Are you all right?” I ask, keeping my voice calm, though I’m starting to feel her discomfort even more intensely. 

She nods. “I’m fine,” she says, but her voice wavers, betraying her.

The match intensifies as one of the gladiators is knocked to the ground, and the crowd erupts in cheers. Fiona stiffens beside me, her breath quickening. She turns her head away from the arena, yet I can tell she’s still listening, even if she’s trying to avoid it.

“You don’t have to stay if you’re not comfortable,” I say quietly, leaning in close so only she can hear.

But she shakes her head, her gaze returning to the fight, though it’s clear she’s not enjoying it in the least. “No, it’s fine.” Her voice is strained, her jaw set tightly.

The gladiators clash again, and this time, one of them is knocked unconscious, blood staining the sand. The crowd goes wild. That’s when I notice Fiona’s hands are clenched tightly at her sides, her knuckles white. Her jaw tightens even more, her eyes fixed on the arena. 

When they release the lion into the ring, Fiona stands, her breath coming in short, uneven gasps. “I can’t watch this.” Her voice trembles with each word.

Before I can say anything, she pushes through our row and heads toward the steps leading to the exit.

I follow her, calling her name over the noise, but she doesn’t slow down or even turn around. Finally, I catch up to her, resting my hand on her arm gently, not enough to stop her, but enough to pull her attention back to me. “Fiona,” I say softly. “Let’s leave.”

She looks up at me, eyes brimming with tears. “I’m sorry, Marcus. It’s just that I’ve never seen anything like that before. I should’ve known what to expect, but honestly, I just didn’t understand how violent and brutal this would be.” Her voice quivers.

“You don’t need to apologize,” I reply, taking a step closer. “I didn’t realize it was your first match. I should’ve warned you. Let’s get you out of here.”

As we walk away from the amphitheater, I can’t help but think about her deep feelings of empathy. Who is this woman with such a soft heart, so gentle and kind in a world that is anything but? It’s like she doesn’t belong in this place. She's not hardened by the brutality around us, and I can’t help but be drawn to that while wondering how she’s remained so innocent and pure.