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Chapter Text

Ashur could feel his blood running cold as he makes the climb. Following the pitiful excuse for a sentry as he does. His heart pounding harder with each step. Whatever happens, he swears that he was going to make Lucretia pay for this. In this life or the next. Because he is certain,without a shadow of a doubt that she and that fucking bitch Ilithyia were to blame for his current situation. Perhaps if he makes it off this gods forsaken mountain then he would inform Glaber about the possibility of his wife baring the child of Spartacus. Due to Lucretia's own pettiness. His palms were sweating as he rounds a corner seeing the majority of this rebellion on the peak. The skies over head promising a storm even as they stood around a roll of vines that he assumes is the body of Mira. Spartacus' face still held the tear streaks from his grief. His real issue was the horrified Naevia and the furious Crixus who have laid eyes on him. Ashur holds up his hands in a sign of peace as he slows down. 

"I come baring message from Legatus Glaber." He explains making sure to keep his head down but eyes alert. This was an extremely delicate situation. If it goes wrong, it'll end in his death. 

"We care not for his words." Crixus snarls taking a step forward. Luckily for Ashur, Spartacus shoots an arm out stopping him from charging forward. Ashur licks his lips nervously, making sure his shoulders were hunched. Doing everything he could to make himself seem small and nonthreatening. A grimace flashes over his face when he notices Oenomaus staring at him. Fuck he was going to die. 

"Let him pass along the message from his master and we will see if it holds any worth." Spartacus instructs speaking loud and clear. Ashur gives a quick smile. 

"If you all surrender only Spartacus has to die. The rest can simply return to life as they were before." Ashur states with a heavy sigh. He knows, Glaber knows, the fucking gods know that not a single soul here was going to go for this pitiful deal. "Back to food, warmth, water and shelter." Ashur tries coaxing knowing far too many of those who stand around him suffered greatly while wearing a collar. There was no going back for all of the luxuries in the world. They were all too stubborn, too violent, and too angry. Ashur's gaze dobles back to a small man he doesn't know. There was a flicker of hesitation. 

"Spartacus would be executed?" Agron asks. The Thracian looks around at the rebels surrounding him. "And you expect the rest of us to stand unharmed? Returned to shackel and lease?" He sneers. 

"Humiliation and pain?" Crixus adds with a scoff. "Stifled and shamed under the foot of the fucking Republic?" Ashur sighs heavily cursing cruel masters and dumbasses alike. 

"That was the message. I am simply passing it along." He offers trying to take a step back. Someone blocks his path and he looks over his shoulder at them nervously. 

"Yes you have. Yet I do not see that as a cause to let you leave." Spartacus informs with a point of his sword. There was a ripple of chuckles from the crowd. Ashur looks left and right feeling his fear grow as well as his own anger. 

"Glaber expects a response." Ashur attempts to reason. 

"Your head would serve equal purpose." Crixus snarls a mad gleam in his eyes. Ashur hears Gannicus' laugh louder than the others and he feels that it was woefully undeserved. Despite their past he was never outright mean or cruel to the Celt. 

"Spartacus?" Ashur calls out his voice twinged with fear. 

"I see no flaw in his reasoning." Spartacus shrugs making Ashur curl his lip. Fuck this was bad. And the way Naevia was inching closer to Crixus was making him increasingly nervous. 

"There is no honor in killing a defenseless man." He tries again, hoping to appeal to a thing that makes even Oenomaus give pause. He knows how much the word means to all those who bare the mark. His arm twinges as if the carved off brand was reminding him how much it means to him as well. There was a tap to his shoulder and Ashur grimaces when Donar hands him a blade. 

"Problem solved." Spartacus notes the smallest hint of amusement in his voice. Ashur joins in the second wave of laughter. Sighing he takes a step forward. There was no way in hell he was going to be able to best Crixus, but he wasn't just going to lay down and take it either. Not after all the work and effort, the pain and suffering he has put himself through just to get to this point. No if he was going to die then he was going to do so with a sword in hand and head held high. 

He once again mentally curses Lucretia. If he ever sees her again he was going to skin her alive.

"Should I win, then am I free to go?" Ashur asks struggling to keep his voice steady. Crixus gives him a 'bitch please' look not even hiding his eagerness for the Syrian's blood. 

"Crixus." Naevia places a hand on his shoulder even as the Gaul had taken a step forward. Ashur pushes down the pitiful hope that rose in his chest that she was here to defend him. "I-I, it should be me." Ashur blinks leaning his head back a little. The fuck did she just say? Crixus tilts his head both of their lips trembling as they look at one another. Honestly it was the type of love, passion and romance that poets and bards wrote and sang about. The kind that plays were written of and small children dream to one day have for themselves. 

It was boring and fucking gross. 

"Naevia." Crixus pleads as if they were able to have a whole conversation with minimal words. Ashur glances over at Oenomaus. The man was not going to let Ashur go so easily. Not after last time. Regardless on how much truth Ashur told him, he still stabbed the man in the leg and ran. Because it was about survival. Everything he's done has been for that sole purpose. Even those long nights of training in his cell, alone and in pain, fighting around that fucking brace. 

"If I can be the one to take his life, make him pay for what he did to me?" Ashur's head snaps back to her with raised brows. Excuse him? Her tearful eyes find Ashur and the hatred burning there has him tsking. Crixus sends him a glare over his shoulder too. "Then perhaps this shadow of fear will be lifted." The old resentment he feels for the Gaul was rising. Born from the memories of how Ashur had welcomed Crixus with open arms, assisted in his initial training, was by his side the entire time he stood recruit. And then that fucking one eighty Crixus pulled on him. Crippling him and nearly killing him in the arena. Mocking him and bullying at every possible chance he got. Regardless on how Ashur had continued to attempt to mend their friendship. One he still has no idea how he ruined it. She thought she had a shadow of fucking fear? All those years he spent trying to be nice and helpful and what did it get him? 

"Are you certain?" Crixus asks, the wind carrying the whisper for Ashur to be able to hear it. There was a low roll of thunder that had some people glancing at the sky. Naevia nods with a hard swallow. 

"I wish to make him pay." Ashur's eye twitches, a rage that he has quelled for years, boiling. In recent months he has allowed his anger to show, and let his patience be thin. It is how he managed to torture Oenomaus. How he had Lucretia in his bed. His once fellow Gladiators had been trying to teach him and lesson, and unfortunately for all who stand involved in this little drama, Ashur has finally learned it. 

"And what did I do to you? Hmm? What exactly did I do? Did my soft touches and whispered praise of your beauty harm you so?" Cruelty and savagery were what made someone victorious. He had thought he was going to take this secret with him to the grave. To be able to do this small kindness for the girl he emotionally damaged in the process of harming Crixus. And in doing so have one last mercy shown to the man who used to be his friend. Ashur gives a wave of his hand letting it slap back onto his thigh as he speaks. "Tell me was it the way I made you quake throughout the night?" Ashur continues questioning, twisting the knife deeper. Agron and Gannicus have to stop Crixus from charging. But nothing was stopping the yelling. Tears were forming in his own eyes as he sees the color draining from her face. 

"I will have your fucking tongue." She weeps hands balled into fists. Ashur laughs rubbing his chin. 

"Indeed, I recall how much you fucking enjoyed it lapping at your cunt while your thighs were clenched around my skull." He doesn't have time to dodge, hardly gets the opportunity to turn to look before Spartacus was slugging him in the face. Sending him spiraling. Letting the sword he was given go clattering to the ground with the echoing 'ooh' from the rebels around them. 

"Enough." Spartacus growls, chest heaving with emotion. Ashur glares up at him holding his cheek, making no attempts at rising. Spartacus gives him a dirty look as if to make sure he stays down. The Thracian then storms over to Crixus pushing at his chest. "Crixus regain fucking senses." 

It took a few more minutes to calm the Gaul down. A blonde that Ashur doesn't recognize awkwardly hugging the now sobbing Naevia while a dark hair and skinned man rubs her back. Ashur also has no idea who he was but it really didn't matter. His heart was breaking with the pain he has caused the pair of them. He was simply so fucking angry. At the brotherhood, those who had and have call themselves his Dominus, fucking Lucretia, and mostly himself. When he had first come up with the idea to used Naevia to punish Crixus he had literally lost his stomach. But it stuck and stuck and though his stomach twisted and turned he went through with it. He hadn't thought that Lucretia would harm the girl in such a manner. Didn't think Batiatus would put her to cart. Had imagined all the retribution would be for Crixus and Crixus alone to bare. 

The group huddled around the couple were deliberating. Ashur couldn't hear what was being said but he knows that it wouldn't have made a difference. Whatever fate they decided to devine him with would be accepted. He is prepared to face the consequences of his actions and his choices. While he doesn't think that he has given all he could give, nor lived as much as he wanted Ashur understands, has always understood that it wasn't up to him. Not completely and truly like it was for those more capable. It was why he learned how to read, to write, do numbers and strategy. He tilts his head seeing Spartacus lean in to Crixus with a point at Naevia. A little curious he sits up, still not daring to stand again. Not with Oenomaus hovering so closely. Whatever Naevia said makes the Gaul take a small step backwards and Agron grimace. But it seemed the end of the conversation. The group turning back around, dark looks all pointed down at him. Ashur sighs heavily getting to his feet. 

"So. Crixus or Naevia? Who is to have the dishonor of killing Ashur?" He asks dusting his hands off. The blonde woman, who still had an arm around Naevia raises an eyebrow at him. The corners of her mouth twitching, almost as if she thought him funny. 

"Neither." Spartacus informs much to Ashur's surprise. 

"The mighty Oenomaus then? Or the legendary Gannicus?" Ashur snarks motioning to the two of them as he does. Spartacus gives a small shake of his head, the tiniest of smirks on his face. 

"No. You are not worth the swing of the sword." Spartacus states firmly but softly. Ashur' face flushes with embarrassment. That statement fucking hurt. But it was what he needed to hear. Ashur gives a quiet little 'ah' noise as he takes a step backwards.

"Then I shall take my leave and give Legatus your answer." Ashur claps his hands together with a polite smile. There was a heavy hand on his shoulder keeping him in place. 

"I did not say you were free to go. Let alone making it off this mountain alive." Spartacus muses sidestepping at the same time those behind him do. Ashur feels his heart seize in his chest when lightening strikes over the horizon. The view of the edge of the cliff its own answer to the unasked question. He swallows thickly brushing the hand on him off. It was a small comfort that it left. 

"Spartacus," He implores breathlessly, "there has to be another way." Spartacus glances between Ashur and the ledge. 

"There stands but two ways off her peak. And you shall not be taking the safe one." He informs stalking over. The memory of Spartacus throwing Gneaus from the Ludus sands to his death springs to mind and Ashur ducks out of the outstretched arm.

"A moment if you will." Ashur blurts out trying to keep track of those who seriously wish him harm and not just siding with their leaders. "Perhaps we can strike a bargain." He offers mind thinking quickly. Spartacus scoffs continuing to attempt to circle him. The crowd draws in closer aiding the Thracian in this endeavor. 

"You hold nothing of worth." Wasn't that the fucking truth. 

"I hold Glaber's ear." He counters nearly tripping on some vines. He looks down at them an idea springing to mind. "A-and a third option of how to descend off this barren mountain top." Ashur was speaking quickly but he sees the spark of interest in Spartacus' eye. 

"You spout nothing but bullshit." Gannicus accuses with a shove. Ashur stumbles with a soft cry of shock. He tucks his arms in close to keep from getting pushed again. The leers and jeers that filtered through the circle of enemies made that extremely difficult. 

"It is a relatively dangerous and unconventional idea, but I assure you it shall work." Ashur speaks quickly. Spartacus raises an eyebrow. 

"You have ten seconds." He allows much to the horror and displeasure of those closest to him. Ashur doesn't waste the gifted time. 

"Use the vines you can gather as rope and propel down. If you allow I can distract the guards and Glaber enough for you to circle his legion and take control of his catapults." Spartacus pauses in his next step. "He is expecting you to kill me. He has sent me to my death due to Lucretia and his bitch wife." Spartacus tilts his head. 

"Ilithyia? What does she have to do with this?" One tract mind mother fucker. 

"Could not stand the idea of Glaber falling for someone much younger and prettier than she was. Used the girl and the death of her idiot brother as a means to win his affections back." Ashur rushes with a gesture of his hands. "Lucretia planned it all as a means of ridding herself of me." There was a strange look on Crixus' face but Spartacus just squints. 

"Away from you?" Crixus scoffs. Ashur rolls his eyes to the sky hating that he was using what was probably the last few breaths of his life doing a fucking retelling of the past few months of it. 

"Glaber was going to gift me with the ludus and her as a wife for assisting in the downfall of Spartacus." He gives a nervous chuckle, "Not that his plans worked. And would it not be a glorious irony that you use the very tool he was for his downfall that he had planned for yours?" Ashur makes attempt. "Besides, as I informed you, he has sent me up here to die, I no longer hold loyalties towards the man, and you do not wish to do his dirty work for him do you? You do what is unexpected, is that not how you have survived and bested him for this long?" Crixus leans in to Spartacus who has still not resumed his prowling. 

"You are not considering this are you?" He hisses. Ashur grimaces knowing that while it was still safe to ramble to the Thracian, speaking directly to the Gaul would most definitely end with him over the cliff. 

"That fool wished me dead, you do not want to give him a single thing he desires do you?" Ashur pleads. The way Spartacus' head cocks to the side and Ashur knows he's got him. So does Agron and Crixus if their annoyed looks told him anything. Ashur risks a quick glance at Naevia, wanting to express his regret of it all. Well, not all of it. The night with her was one he would never forget and relatively treasure. But she was simply staring at Spartacus in distraught disbelief.

"You expect this traitorous fuck to join us then? Do you really trust Ashur?" Gannicus snorts. Ashur gives him a sarcastic smile. Whatever grievance he caused that drunk cunt he hopes it was worth it. 

"I never asked for trust!" Ashur argues getting Spartacus' eyes on him again. "Simply faith in the knowledge that you and I have a common enemy." Spartacus chews his cheek glancing around at the surrounding rocks before his eyes fall on the bundle towards the top. Ashur sees Agron follow his gaze and then run a hand over his face. And for the first time since seeing that stupid fucking bracelet Ashur lets out a small sigh of relief. 

Chapter Text

He was a little tired of his heart pounding in fear. At least when it came to this fucking situation. The climb down Vesuvius just as dangerous as the ascend. Knowing that any moment the rebels could change their minds and simply attack. Ending his miserable life whenever they choose. But of course he has no idea if the soldiers at the bottom have been ordered to kill him on sight. He had bluffed hard to get this far. All that was left was the minor faith that his plan will work. Or that Spartacus and whoever he has vine climbing down the side of the cliff with him falls and dies. Either way leads to his survival. And well he's certain that even if it's one other person the chosen fighter would be Crixus' fuck ass.

"Greetings friends." Ashur calls out when the two sentries that had escorted him to the base of the mountain come into sight. There was a bead of nervous sweat that rolls down the back of his neck. They seemed extremely shocked to see the Syrian. As if they, like him, expected Spartacus and his violent hoard to tear him apart. 

"You just cost me a lot of gold you cunt." The one on the left grumbles. Ashur chuckles stepping past them, making sure that their gaze stays on him and away from the rock face. No amount of smooth talking would get him out of a damned thing if one of the soldiers spotted those morons scaling the side. And with the lightening flashing across the sky he can see four specs dangling off the top. It would be a while before they reached the trail. Meaning he was going to have to do some distracting. Joy. 

"Apologies. Perhaps when this war is over and our Praetor honors word and graces me with the Ludus, you could earn your coin back through betting on my Gladiators." He offers trying to keep the arrogance in his voice. Feigning a confidence he no longer feels. Ashur mentally curses the amount of resistance it was taking to not glance up and take note of where Spartacus was on their decent. Knowing there were four he can take a good guess on the other three. Gannicus and Crixus of course. And a smart man would take one of the most skilled of the brotherhood. He saw the damage to Doctore's eye. So having him use the foot path was the safest choice for Oenomaus. 

Meaning he has no idea who the fourth would be. Perhaps Rabanus? Leviticus maybe? Even Donar would be one he would have used. The blond giant was always intimidating and silent. Especially when swinging that axe about. However there were a lot of unfamiliar faces up there on that peak. Their attack of Neapolis was one of the ways they were found and he knows their attack on a slave ship wasn't just their new ideals of freeing all slaves. That particular trade ship harbored potential Gladiators. Ashur was well aware of how the slave trade works from that fucking port. Just as Spartacus and some of the others did. 

"Ha! You really think that Glaber will give you a fucking thing?" The guard on the right laughs leaning against his spear. Ashur gives him a sarcastic smile as his partner snorts along with him. "He sent your ass up there to die." There was a cruel look in his eye and Ashur knows that there are many slaves who should consider themselves lucky that this man's profession was lowly soldier and not a type that could own another human being. His heart ache thinking about how many men like this one that Naevia was subjected to. Because of him and his miscalculations of Lucretia's possesive jealousy and violent retaliation. A thing he can never make up for. 

"I believe him to be a man of his word." Ashur shrugs scratching the side of his face. Pacing just enough to keep their attention on him. When they share a doubtful look with each other he risks a glance upwards and sees that the morons were only halfway down. They were still too far away for Ashur to be able to see who the fourth person was. It didn't look like he had an axe or anything like that. So that rules out a few people. "Iiif you think otherwise," He drags out the question seeing the mild hesitation in the soldiers face's as he does. "perhaps we should go and tell him that and see what he does?" Ashur has to take a step back as the pair take a threatening step forward. Fuck he wishes he had a weapon of any kind. Being sent up there without one and then back down just as empty handed was rather annoying. 

"Are you fucking threatening me?" Ashur holds up his hands and gives a soft chuckle. Morons. Having to ask that question towards the obvious. No wonder the rebels were so successful for so long. Ridiculous. 

"No, no, not at all friends." He soothes backing up into a tree. There was the thought of the four incoming fighters just waiting for these two to kill Ashur and then just go on to whatever fate awaits them over the Syrian's corpse. He wouldn't put it past Crixus or Gannicus, but there was a fifty-fifty shot when it came to the Thracian. And an even higher chance with the fourth depending on who the fuck it was. "I was merely suggesting we go and see if you're correct or if I am." One of the Romans pulls out his sword and they both point their weapons at him. Ashur grimaces glancing around as thunder rumbles sounding closer than before. He finds it ironic that the closer Spartacus gets so does the impending storm. Surely that could not be a coincidence. 

"Or we could just take your head and claim that the fucking slaves sent nothing else back down." Ashur flickers his gaze over to the cliff, knowing that initially that was their fucking plan. Would have done so happily and been done with it. One that Glaber had expected and probably hoped for. Dumbass hadn't put it together that his wife having found that bracelet was what lead to Seppia's attack. And magically the repairing of his relationship with Ilithyia. Ashur takes a deep breath remembering how, fast he was able to deal with Glaber's men back on the sands of the Ludus. Two goons wouldn't be too difficult. 

"Trust me, you don't want to do this." He talks low and slow. Extending the vowels and lowering his hands while shaking his head. The two scoff at his warning. Something he expected and therefore was ready for when the first one tries to slash at his chest with the sword. Sliding out of the way, smacking his elbow with enough force to make it bend the wrong way as he does. While he screams his companion attempts to thrust his spear into Ashur's shoulder. So he ducks under it and throws him over his shoulder having him go crashing to the ground. Quickly he retrieves the first man's dropped sword and turns back around, twirling it and looking mildly bored. "I tried to warn you." Ashur sighs heavily looking down at them disappointed.

"You fucking cunt!" The first one swears cradling his arm. Ashur raises an eyebrow watching the Roman's eyes widen in horror and fear. Lightening and thunder crashes as the wind picks up and with the color draining out of his face the Syrian could only guess that Spartacus and his group have been sighted. "You-?"

"Changed allegiances once I was sent to my imminent death?" Ashur scoffs with a small laugh. He can hear foot steps approach and he points the sword at the soldier. "No shit. You worthless cunt." The one who prefers a spear gives an angry yell launching himself from the ground at Ashur. Before he could make it to his feet or even before the Syrian could react there was a blade in the man's throat. Startling both Ashur and the injured soldier. They both look over his shoulder. Spartacus strolling up. Flanked by, yes Crixus and Gannicus, but also Agron of all fucking people. Something that boggled Ashur's mind but who knows. Maybe the death of his brother made the man a better fighter. Without another word, said Rhine shoved Ashur to the side and split the Roman's head open with a mad shout. Ashur grimaces at the sight of brains splattering about, but he just kicks it off of his sandals and turns to the Thracian. "Well that was dramatic." He huffs securing the stolen sword to his waist.

"Fuck off you shit. Where are the catapults." Crixus snaps with his sword already drawn. Ashur rolls his eyes and motions them to follow. 

"Over this hill. There is minimal guard. Nothing the five of us can't handle I'm sure." He coughs and chokes when the handle of Gannicus' sword finds his stomach causing him to double over. "Ooph, ahoww, fuck."

"We do not need your assistance Syrian." The Celt mocks walking forward while glancing around the trees for any hidden dangers. Ashur gives a confused look over at Spartacus who was double checking weapons and armor on the dead. Agron and Crixus crawling over the hill to assess what they were going to need to do. How many men there were and what not. 

"But I- Spartacus?" He questions still holding his gut. The Rebel leader glances at him then over towards the Gaul and the Rhine. 

"I see no reason for you not to remain here and await the rest of the fighters." Spartacus shrugs standing and handing Gannicus something. "You can direct those in proper direction and watch for any incoming troops." Ashur makes a face but gives a courteous nod. 

"Very well then. Anything to assist and prove loyalties have officially shifted." He offers. Gannicus and Crixus each give him a dirty look. Agron doesn't give him the time of day, but Spartacus actually nods back. Ashur knew he always liked the man. 

The fireballs were apparently a symbol. As the rebels started racing down the mountain as soon as they were spotted, the former Doctore leading the charge. Ashur keeps himself out of their way and simply points towards to temple should anyone look turned around. The issues really only started when a small clutch of Romans figured out what was happening and came rushing around to try and stop it all from happening. To take advantage of the bottle neck path. Ashur spots them first though and their element of surprise was lost as he grabs the arm of the nearest slave to yank them out of an incoming spear. It clanks against the rocks and he charges forward, slicing the now defenseless Roman's chest open and kicking his body towards the rest of them.

In a flurry the twenty or so were dead and someone yells for them to head for the rest of them. Ashur shakes the blood off his sword letting them all run around him. Deciding it would be best to stay behind, or at least towards the back. Since there was still more people coming down off the mountain. As he does this the blonde woman from earlier steps in front of him. He raises an eyebrow at her trying to figure out what she wanted. 

She was fiercely beautiful. Eyes blazing just as intense as the Thracians, face strong and sure. And completely unreadable. She was thinner than she should be, which was more than likely a result of slavery. With the way she stood he knows that fighting was not something she learned, but something she has lived her entire life. The toned muscles complimented her and for the first time in a long time, he forgot about Lucretia or Naevia. 

"Dankbarkeit. Dafür, dass du mein Leben gerettet hast." She says in her native tongue. Ashur grimaces knowing little of the East of the Rhine tongue. Was slowly learning it from Duro any time the pup wanted extra food, or water, or needed some oil as he wasn't earning nearly enough coin to precure it himself. Luckily he had prepared for this type of situation with every lesson.

"Entschuldige. Ich kenne deinen Mund nicht gut." The quick but small widening of her eyes and the small smirk on her face tells him he misspoke a little. Hopefully not bad enough to insult. 

"Dat, can fix." She tells him with a small wink. Ashur gives a small shake of his head in surprise and blinks rapidly at her. He opens and closes his mouth a few times before he spots Oenomaus, doubling back barking orders and urging those not already at the temple forward. With the fires blazing around Ashur spots movement behind him and with his heart in his throat he leaps forward. Running as fast as his legs could carry him. Oenomaus looks at him in rage and shock. Side stepping out of the Syrian's way even as a panicked scream leaves his lips. 

"Noooo!" The word echos louder than the clash of steel when Ashur's blade connects with that of the Egyptians. It had been inches from Doctore's back and despite everything the man has put Ashur through, he still considered him a good, honorable and respectable man. Not one who deserves to die like that. Not from a surprise attack. He grunts and shouts loudly as he recklessly swings and slashes his blade. Managing to duck, weave and leap over every attempt the Egyptian throws at him. Ashur purposefully backs into a tree and waits one specific second before rolling out of the way. His opponents weapon getting stuck in the trunk and Ashur taking advantage. Tackling the man by the knees and sending them crashing to the ground. Still shouting he wrestles the small secondary blade the fucker uses out of his large meaty hands and desperately starts using it. Stabbing everywhere he could reach. Blood spurting and splattering about like rivers and fountains. Ashur slashes and thrusts the blade into his throat and each of his eyes, ignoring the punches he was being given in the Egyptian's last ditch efforts to survive. But this worthless cunt, someone Ashur had dragged, literally, out of a hole and into the light, had turned against him. The rage over years of betrayal, neglect, humiliation and pain has bubbled up again and the Syrian kept on his assault until there was a loud bark of his name. 

"Ashur!" Oenomaus' voice cuts through the noise. The blood rushing in his ears and the howling of the wind. Panting heavily he looks up at him, his whole body shaking with adrenaline and exertion. There was a strange look on Doctore's face. One he's never seen directed towards him before. It was nearly, pride. "Enough." He directs with a firm nod. Ashur returns the jester as he stands. 

"Yes, Doctore." Ashur states dropping the small blade and grabbing his sword from where he lost it earlier. 

"Oenomaus!" They both turn at the sound of the bellow of his name. Gannicus racing forward, covered in blood and looking furious. Ashur flinches and dances backwards, quickly having his blade knocked out of his hands by the flurry of swords and kicks. 

"Gannicus! No!" Oenomaus' scream catches Ashur off guard just as the quick jab to the throat does the Celt. The pair of them looking at Doctore in complete shock. Gannicus losing his footing and falling on his ass as he gasps and grabs at his larynx, recovering slower than Ashur would have thought. 

"Oe-gah- Oenomaus what?" Gannicus sputters, struggling to stand. 

"The Syrian was not attacking me you drunken goat." Oenomaus snaps extending his hand to help his friend up. Gannicus frowns looking around and spotting the mangled body of the Egyptian. There was clear doubt on his face but the Rhine woman walks over to the corpse and takes the man's weapons. 

"I take." She comments. Ashur points to the one he used where it was discarded. Gannicus was clearly doing some quick math and coming to the, honest, but unapproved of conclusion. 

"Jupiters cock you cannot tell me this cunt ended the Egyptian's fucking life?" He scoffs looking at Oenomaus who gives a pained expression but hangs his head. Ashur runs a hand through his hair, feeling it thick with blood. There was a chill in the air and he was comforted by the few drops of rain that were starting to fall. At the very least he will be cleaned from the gore. 

"Sorry to disappoint." Ashur tsks trudging off after the woman. Noting her eyes roaming over the Celt with interest. He rolls his eyes headed towards the sounds of battle. He knows the pair behind him were talking to each other in hushed tones. Discussing the Syrian no doubt. Not that he cares. Whatever they had to say about him did not matter. He knows what he did and why. 

It was a familiar sight. Bodies, and limbs splattered about matching the blood stained against the walls. Both Roman and slave alike. Although he notes there was far more Roman than not. As if for every one rebel five soldiers lay dead in their wake. Ashur always knew that the gladiators were better fighters. He simply thought that the Romans would put up a better resistance to their deaths. With the sheer number of them at least. Yet here they were. It was actually embarrassing. No wonder the Senate was trying so hard to quell this. Yet despite best attempts, acting like it was nothing to be feared, nothing of note, was making it all the worse. They should have used full force to begin with. 

Ashur spots Spartacus on top of the steps. Battling with Glaber. There was a cold rage that bubbles in his chest at the sight of the praetor. And he couldn't help but slink his way through the crowd. Blocking attacks here and there. Never before had he been more grateful for the blanket of the night. The light of lightening blasting through the rain his guide. His heart was pounding again, but this time with anticipation. How he longed to see the expression on that child fucker. There was a crack large enough in the side of the temple for him to squeeze through. Ashur treasured watching from the corner, seeing the way Spartacus brings Glaber to his knees. Regales a speech that must have held meaning to the man. By the fury in his eyes. 

Ashur recognizes the moment before Spartacus deals the final blow. Poised and ready to shove the sword down Glaber's throat. And he seizes his opportunity. Stepping out and grabbing some discarded fruit to be able to take a bite the second Roman eyes land on him. The shock and white hot wrath on his face worth every second of worry that the climb up Vesuvius gave him. And watching the Thracian force that fucking cunt to swallow his sword, blood black with it's depth and thickness. Fuck the gods it was so satisfying to watch that his cock briefly stirs. 

It wasn't too much longer before he was cornered. Another long speech from the Thracian, one that the rest of the rebellion welcomes with open arms and expectation. Meaning he apparently gives them often. But once they were all done cheering loudly the work began. Clean up and stripping of bodies from armor and weapons to be used for their new cause. Burning with purpose. 

"Ashur." Spartacus gains his attention after a bit. Agron, the long haired man that reminds the Syrian of Pietros beside him. He gives the Thracian a polite smile. 

"Spartacus. What services can I provide for you?" He questions picking at the fruit he found. It wasn't quite ripe yet but it was the most he's had all day. The three looked extremely serious and Ashur was worried about the topic that was about to be broached. 

"A few questions." He informs stepping closer, his swords still lose in his hands. Ashur knows that if he answers incorrectly then it would end in his death. Yet so too if he did not speak truth. Whatever inquiries he was seeking he prays to the gods that they were ones he could provide desired results. Either way he motions for him to go ahead. "Oenomaus claims you saved his life and ended that of your fucking Egyptians." There was a pause. "Is it true?" Ashur makes a face and a quirk of his eyebrows. 

"Mostly. I prevented the cunt's blade from finding its way into Doctore's back. It was a blessing from the gods that I managed to end the miserable fuckers life," Ashur takes a breath looking up at Spartacus from the corner of his eye. "But I would not claim owner ship of that easily bought whore." Agron and Spartacus exchange a curious look. 

"Why?" Ashur actually anticipated this one considering the first. He scoffs with a shrug. 

"I owe much to the man. And still believe he deserves to die an honorable and glorious death. One far better than being stabbed physically in the back by some bitch that already did so to me." Ashur sneers tossing the half eaten fruit down. Thinking about the treachery mere moments after telling them all they would be his gladiators? It turned his stomach. Spartacus nods, although the Rhine looked hesitant to believe him. 

"And now? What shall you do? You are just as much a fugitive as the rest of us." Ashur resists the urge to roll his eyes. He was a little better off than they were. All of Capua has been lead to believe that Ashur was freed. Unless Lucretia and Ilithyia tongue enough assholes with their lies of his betraying of Glaber. And the truth of him slaughtering Seppius. 

"I return to the Ludus." He confesses. "There is unfinished business with our former Domina that I am determined to have come to climax." Ashur tells him, his tone dark and promising blood. Spartacus nods at him glancing over at Crixus who was still furiously talking to Gannicus and Oenomaus. It was nerve wracking to see the Gaul point at him. 

"Should you so choose, after your business is concluded?" Spartacus steps to the side, blocking the trio from view and offers his hand. "You are welcome to join the ranks." Ashur glances down at his hand and slowly accepts it. In the standard brotherhood clasp. The grip the Thracian has on his arm making the hardly healed brand removal scar ache and burn. "Under close and watchful eyes of course." Ashur groans his knees buckling slightly. 

"Understood." Spartacus gives one last nod before shoving the Syrian away and moving off towards the rest of them. Agron gives him a dirty and dark glare as he follows. The small man that was shadowing him simply gives Ashur a cautious smile as he passes. Shaking his head, Ashur moves to gather a few supplies. There was much to be done and he was sure that when he gets his hands on Lucretia? His will be the last face she sees in this life. 

Chapter Text

His heart pounds harder than he would have thought as he hears the footsteps climbing the stairs. Knowing what he knows about her, he is sure that she is terrified for so many different reasons. And it was a shame to put her in the middle of all of this. Almost literally. But enough was enough. Ashur has had it with Crixus and his fucking attitude. It was one thing, to tell himself that once they were both Gladiators, Crixus would be his friend again. Another to get it into his head that Gannicus was the problem and getting him out of the way would fix everything. His heart broke every day after that fucking Celt left. Yet he spent his nights training as he could and convincing himself that Crixus would respect him once he was healed now that Gannicus was gone. That it was the brace that stood the problem and the sole reason why Crixus wasn't going to be his friend let alone more. And now that he has finally realized that nothing he did would ever change how that fucking Gaul treats him, Ashur knows that a little payback was in order. After all; Crixus hurt him first. Somehow it was fitting that the sky seen from his window was so beautiful tonight. 

When Naevia rounds the corner, her eyes wide and mouth parted slightly, the very image of fear, his heart goes out to her. Ashur does his best to keep his gaze soft. While he knows she was nothing more than a pawn, it did not mean he wanted to hurt her in anyway. It was not his business to go around scaring poor defenseless women. He calmly lifts the long thin tallow he used to light the other candles to his lips and carefully blows it out. Being sure to make no sudden sounds nor movements as he sets it down in front of the array he has been allowed. His stomach flips in mild surprise to see her actually. Having thought that Lucretia would fuss and fight over Ashur's choice. Batiatus must truly be grateful then. 

"My heart quickens at such a vision." Which was not a lie. She was beautiful. Ashur preferred men but would always welcome smooth thighs and a willing cunt. Ordered to be willing was just as good in terms of hurting Crixus. Naevia stands in the doorway, wringing her hands in front of her. She looked almost freshly bathed. As though she was told to clean the day off of her before coming up here. If she had been stealing a moment with the Gaul then it that particular part of the command probably sounded like a blessing. "Please," He stands and motions her to step closer as he does as well. A small thrill runs up his spine when she does as instructed. "Set mind to ease." Ashur puts his hands behind his back to aid in alleviating her worries. He shakes his head keeping his voice low and smooth. "I cling to no grudge for past transgressions." He gives her a small smile as her eyes study his face, trying to figure out what the fuck he was talking about. He knows this next part was mostly horse shit, but he couldn't let her know that he was using her out right. She'd run and tell Crixus. 

"I do not understand." Naevia tells him with a tilt of her head. Damn she was adorable wasn't she? Considering how much time Crixus spent with her thanks to Lucretia he really couldn't blame the man for falling for her. However, luckily the Beast of Carthage once again sends assistance from beyond the grave. 

"You spoke with Doctore," He gives a wave of his hand in the direction of the window, knowing it faced the sands. "After it was said Barca secured his freedom." His stomach tightens uncomfortably with the fear that gleams in her eyes, but he ignores it. It was interesting the way her head moved as though subconsciously following his hand.

"I told him nothing." She insists. Ashur gives a smile and a quick blink. That had been sort of a gamble. Not having been entirely sure if Oenomaus had lied to him to try and get him to spill about Barca or not. Good to know that the ever perfect Doctore stayed that way.

"A thing of no consequence." He elongates the vowels but still was careful to keep his tone low and devoid of anger. Easily done since he felt none towards her. "Turn it from your thoughts." Ashur takes a step closer moving to her side. "As I have turned it from mine. In favor of more..." He pauses dramatically humming as he searches for the right word feeling bad for how wet and wide her eyes were. "intimate concerns." Her eyes flicker towards his and he could tell Naevia was close to shaking with fear. How confident she must have been to believe Lucretia when she was told she would never be used like any other slave in this house. Ashur tears his gaze away from her face, knowing that if he looked too long into her eyes that he would chicken out. But he's gotten too far. Achieved too much to do so now. "I have admired your beauty for many years." He wonders how long Crixus has. Did he, like with Lucretia, wait for her to make the first move? He only looks up when she lowers her gaze, risking eyeing her hair and trying to see if he could tell that someone's hands had been raked through it. "Were you aware of my affections?" He considers himself lucky that there had been a few times in the past where he had been attempting to figure out some math and stared off into space, and it just happened to be in her direction. Not that he was completely lying here but still. When she licks her bottom lip, Ashur copies the motion. Sucking on his a little realizing his cock was thickening, realizing what was going to come to pass and eager for it. 

"I have felt your gaze, linger of late." She confesses breathlessly eyeing him nervously unable to hold his gaze and the spark as minute as it was, of curiosity that he spotted has his cock twitch. Clearly she knows why she was summoned and perhaps a part of her was curious to know the touch of more men than just Crixus. And here he was giving her the chance to do so! Ashur leans in, smirking slightly and enjoying the scent of her skin. She must have had a bath. Otherwise if she managed even just a quick kiss or embrace with the Gaul he would be able to smell him on her. He nearly laughs realizing how fucking creepy that sounded even in his head. 

"A gaze, is all I could dare." He states with a small shake of his head, eyes falling to her lips. "Your position placing you forever beyond my grasp." Ashur tells her truthfully, and as a reminder of how dangerous her and Crixus' relationship was there was a little bit of frustration slipping through his voice. Didn't the two of them realize that if Lucretia learned they would both be killed? Truly, in a way he was saving Naevia's life. "Delicate, ripe Naevia." Fuck here he was being weird again. He wonders if Crixus was any better with words in terms of seduction. He shifts his stance, crowding her space hands twitching anxious to touch. "Always the forbidden fruit." Ashur leans in close to whisper against her cheek, encouraged by the lifting of her chin despite the unsteady breath she lets out. "Until now." His heart aches for her and if not for the fact that he knows he was going to make it up to her in the physical sense then he would have backed out. "You tremble." Ashur points out doing his best to sound amused. Their eyes flicker between meeting and flying away. His landing on her lips. "Has a man never kissed you?" He asks like a fucking cur knowing the answer. He lifts his hand letting the back of his knuckles graze her exposed shoulder as he circles her. "Caressed the soft curves of your hips?" He wonders if Crixus was ever gentle with her, or just the gruff brute that always somehow worms his way into people's hearts. Ashur stands behind her so he could speak into her ear. "Slipped inside of you" From this angel he could see her press her lips together in a curl, possibly in an attempt to calm her breathing. He moves to her right side letting his gaze drop some more. Wanting so badly to know what she was imagining as he speaks. And his cock jerks wanting to follow his words right into her hot cunt. 

"Domina has seen me remained untouched." Naevia states sounding like a mantra. Hasn't watched close enough that's for damned sure. Ashur looks up at her, knowing she doesn't see the smirk of disbelief on his face. He had sort of hoped that since they were alone she would have confessed to at least having a lover and just begging him to not force him to tell who and to keep it a secret. It would have been a good show of faith and trust. One he would have happily done. So, since this was not the case, he steps forward, speaking more slowly than before. Giving her a chance to change her mind. 

"Then, we are both in her debt." He sighs standing in front of her again, shoulders sagging a little staring at her collar bone. 

They watch his hands reach up and untie her dress. Neither of them daring to speak a word as he carefully guides it to fall off of her. Exposing every inch of her skin. His left hand raises to comfortingly rub her shoulder. Half surprised that Lucretia's mark was as smooth as it was. Ashur feels her shaking so he gently moves his palm to the middle of her back, motioning and guiding her towards the bed. 

"Ple-please, I- I don't think I can-"

"Shh, shh. Worry now sweet Naevia." Ashur reassures her cupping her chin. "I will not harm you." There was mild confusion in her eyes, the whites of which were now red with unshed tears. "I desire your," He lets his eyes rake over her naked body pleased to see no physical marks from Crixus had been left. They had been careful since they were fucking in secrete. Ashur, however did not have this issue. "Delectable and supple flesh." Flesh? Fuck he sounded gross even to his own ears. "But," He goes on noting the shuddering intake of breath and knowing that was not a good sign, "there is something else I desire." Her eyes flitter across his face as he steers her onto the bed, staying standing and dressed for now.

"Something else?" Naevia whispers, voice trembling as badly as she was. Ashur hums as he nods brushing some hair out of her face smiling softly at her. 

"Indeed." Ashur sinks down onto his knees, loving the lack of pain in his leg as he does, knowing he would never get enough of moving it around freely after having been trapped in that fucking brace for five fucking years. "I desire." She hisses as he runs a calloused palm from her throat down to a breast, tweaking a lightly tanned nipple as he passes. Knowing that compared to Crixus his skin must be nearly silky in texture. "Your passion." Her stomach sucks in as his fingers play across it, shifting lower still. "Your lust." He drags out his words watching his hand more than her face. Already knowing her eyes were squeezed shut. Seeing her hands grabbing his sheets in fear. "Your pleasure." Ashur gasps quietly as he lightly trails his finger tips through the coarse curls. Licking his lips when his middle and ring finger slides across her slit. The heat radiating from her cunt made his cock fully engorged. 

"I don't-" Want him, yes he's aware. 

"Worry not." He soothes pretending like he doesn't know what she was about to say. "With this being your first time, I will be sure to go slow and gentle." Ashur glances up at her, unsurprised to see tears sliding down her face as she bites her lip. "Aw, there stands no need for tears." He coos letting his fingers hover where they were, his other hand coming up to cup her face, running a thumb across her cheek. "I will take care of you and provide your every need." He whispers leaning down. "Trust me." Naevia flinches when he kisses her. But otherwise she doesn't move. Remains stiff as he works his lips across hers, in the back of his mind hoping to taste Crixus instead of her.  

A gasp escapes her when he presses his palm down against her clit, teasing her cunt with his fingers. Ashur takes advantage of the open mouth and delves his tongue in, the fruit and wine from her dinner the only flavor he finds. Vaguely disappointed he swallows the surprised shout from her when he rolls his wrist. Her reaction was rather curious and he nearly laughs thinking of Crixus bypassing any actual foreplay with her. Meaning it was going to be a longer night than he thought, and his already annoyed cock was going to be positively aching by the time it gets any attention. It will be worth it though. No amount of training or time was going to see him be a better fighter than Crixus. But a few sly finger tricks and she'll realize who the better fuck was. Naevia jerks underneath him when he shifts to press his middle finger against the sensitive nub. Rolling it back and forth, her hips twitching with each motion. Ashur breaks them apart, far enough to breathe. Watching her face as her eyes remained firmly closed. Cheeks flushed and brows knitted. His heart was started to thud against his chest as his gaze trails across her exposed body. Seeing her breast rising and falling rapidly as she starts to pant. However good Crixus might be with his fucking cock, he doubts they ever have enough time for her to reach her climax more than once. 

"Gnymrph!" Naevia bites back what probably would have been a real groan. Her shoulders stiffening and nails digging into the bedding. Ashur smirks keeping his lips close to hers. 

"Go ahead." He coaxes having her nose scrunch in confusion. "You do not have to be quiet here." There was a panicked look in her eyes as they peer up at him. Ashur kisses the corner of her mouth. "I imagine Domina must have used you in the past, and surely you have explored your own body before." Naevia blinks slowly, jaw slowly dropping in horror, embarrassment, and dare he say a small amount of fury. Did she not consider touching herself? Seriously? Ashur licks her bottom lip putting a little more pressure but keeping the same pace with his hand. Naevia lets out a sound close to a whimper still staring up at him. "We are far removed from any who may judge you for enjoying my touch."  Her head tilts and his smile turns slightly bitter. "I know my reputation, understand how everyone under this roof sees me." Ashur gives a sigh looking down his hand, moving almost lazily now and only comforted by the twitching of her knees. As though her legs were restless but unsure on what to do about it. "But do not be afraid to deny yourself. We are free of judgement and consequence here." Naevia's hips buck slightly and she squeezes her eyes shut again as though ashamed of her reaction. 

"But I- I don't-" Ashur hums and nods shifting to lean down and close his mouth over a taut nipple. A soft cry slips through her restraint while he lavishes his tongue mimicking the motion of his finger. Naevia's back arches suddenly making him hum again, easing the pressure on her clit as it pulses against his finger tip. He pulls back carefully, bringing her hand up to lick and suck the wet tip while she catches her breath. Hers wouldn't be the sweetest cunt he's ever had but he's had far worse in the five years he was struggling to survive in the depths of the Ludus. 

"Mmh, marvelous." He murmurs pulling his finger out of his mouth cocking his head to look at her. She was blinking, dazed, at the wall a small sheen of sweat across her hairline. Ashur brushes it away standing with another sigh, his knees actually protesting having been knelt for so long. "Would you like some water?" He offers taking off his shoes. Wishing he had done so earlier but glad to have a chance to give her a moment to process. Naevia shakes her head tears welling in her eyes. Ashur nods moving to the foot of the bed, having to stoop a little with the slant of the ceiling. "Alright, but after this I will insist on you slake your thirst." Naevia nods biting her lip again. He runs his hands over the curve of her hips, as he had described earlier, letting his fingers feel every dip and shift of her muscles, his thumbs pressing into her thighs a little as they pass going to her ankles. "Remember, do not be afraid." Ashur tries soothing her as he lifts and spreads her legs. He treasures the befuddled expression on her face as the back of her knees were placed on his shoulders. His weight dipping the bed and his palms sliding under her full rear groping a globe in each hand. His ego blooms seeing the glistening dark pink labia he exposes. Ashur gives a pleased hum that sounded akin to a growl even to his own ears as he kisses up one thigh and then down the other. Feeling her calves flex and tighten along his shoulder blades as he shifts to a comfortable position between her legs. Letting his beard gently scratch and tickle her skin. "And feel free to scream my name." He teases closing in on her cunt.

"Scream?" Naevia yips her ignored question. 

Ashur allows himself to lay flat as he pushes forward. Ashur has no idea what she's thinking. Doesn't know if she was imagining Crixus, although with the Gaul's smooth face and short cropped hair he hopes it would be difficult to pretend that he was her actual lover. But the way he works his mouth, his tongue across, along and into her hot, wet cunt makes her curl around him. Ankles crossing behind his back and hands tangling in his growing curls. Her thighs muffled her soft cries but the faster he moves, the harder he sucks on her clit the louder she gets. The discharge flooding his mouth was thickening slightly. Feeling a little slippery on his tongue and the parts of his face it gets on with how he shakes his face, attempting to be able to breathe and keep fucking her with his tongue. Reminding him once again why he prefers cock to cunt, although his own cock enjoys the taste and reaction of the woman above him. Her legs tighten around him and his nose is forced to be buried in her wiry curls. Ashur moans feeling her nails scratch along his scalp, ironically reminded of Barca in the most perverse of ways. His hips grind into the mattress for some much needed friction, easing the building pressure in his groin enough for him to wriggle his hand from her ass to her cunt again, letting his mouth focus on her clit while he slips his middle finger in. Curling and pressing into the rougher, spongy part of her cunt that rips a true scream from her throat. Ashur chuckles as he flicks his tongue ruthlessly. The muscles around his finger tightening quickly as Naevia clings to him, half thrusting and half grinding against his face. He manages to shift so he could see the expanse of her torso, with her back arched putting her breasts on full display and the bottom of her chin indicating her head thrown back in the bliss he causes her to feel. His palm starts to hurt with the strain of the angle and movement but he fights through the growing pain. Knowing she was close to a second orgasm and nothing would stop him from bringing her over that edge again. 

Last time he had simply watched her, could feel the pulsing of her clit with his finger but it certainly had been more of a visual stimulus than this. Because Ashur could hear her through the muffling of her thighs. The sharp pain that is her ankles digging into his back as she freezes. This time with the position of his hand he's able to experience the restricting grip of her cunt the second before her climax hits her. The onslaught of liquid flooding his face and the rhythmic throbbing of her cunt, harsh at first and just like the rest of her fading. Slowing down as her body sinks back onto the bed and her legs slide off of him. He gives a pleased groan as he sits up on his knees. Wiping his mouth and beard as he does. Thumbing his bottom lip and smirking at her.

"Not so bad right?" Ashur murmurs clamoring over her and pouring the water he mentioned before. "Here sit up, you agreed to drink this after." She was shaking again. But Ashur takes that as the default setting for when she was unsure. Regardless Naevia takes the drink, hardly flinching at the hand he places on her shoulder as he sits next to her. "I understand your trepidation." He offers as she sips. No doubt drinking slowly in an attempt to prolong the inevitable. 

"You know nothing about me." She snaps in a hoarse whisper. Eyes red from crying and lip swollen from biting it. Ashur chuckles with a quirk of his eyebrows. 

"I know everything about you." He tells her ominously. Unsurprisingly the grip Naevia has on her cup clenches. He takes no joy in scaring her. It was simply a fact. Ashur knew what he planned and how to best execute it. He was no fool. 

"And what is it that you think you know? Hmm?" Naevia half sneers, that temper of hers, always on such a tight leash but so easy to break when the right cord was struck. Ashur chuckles again grabbing his own drink, not at all sad that the wine over powers the taste of her cunt. 

"I know you prefer honeyed wine." Naevia blinks at him, "That your favorite color is orange because it reminds you of sunsets." Her head tilts to the side cup lowering as her brows knit together. "You would prefer not to eat meat if you could but when you have to, your preference is for fouls, particularly duck." He downs the rest of his drink quickly knowing this next part was going to be equal parts enjoyable and not.

"How-?" Ashur cuts off her obvious question.

"I know that you can not stand having something under your fingernails, and hate the smell of Domina's lye almost as much as you dislike the feel of goat fur, as bedding or otherwise." He speaks fast as he stands, tossing the cup away and beginning to strip. "I know you do not favor me," There was a bit more bitterness in his voice than he had meant, taking her cup from her as he works the tie on his pants. It actually took more restraint than he had imagined to not throw it in her face that he is very much aware of her and Crixus. But that would give her leverage. A chance to warn him. And he could not have that. All of this would be for nothing and he would simply be stuck with another reason to hate himself. And another thing for Crixus to laugh about. "Know that you loathe to enjoy my hands upon you and are only comforted by the fact that you are ordered to be here." 

"Ashur-" He ignores putting himself right back to where he was, between her legs. This time when he grabs her hips it is to have her slide onto her back and forcing her thighs around his waist. "Ashur please." Naevia tries begging again. 

"I will never hurt you, and will only show you kindness and gentle touches." Tears were flowing again, but Ashur was surprised to have the sting of them in his eyes as well. "There is no price for it, but at night? When you come to my bed to rest and sleep as I have requested you to be allowed to do," This seemed to be news to her because Naevia's mouth drops in shock, "If I am in the mood to fuck your cunt, I will." He tells her pushing into the wet heat. Breeching her with less ease than he had imagined. "It is your first time, so I will try and make it fast, but in time, I assure you," Naevia lets out a loud scream as he gives a hard thrust. "You will come to enjoy my cock."

"No. No please, please Ashur." His stomach churns as he starts an even pace. Keeping the force of each movement as minimal as possible without being ridiculous. Rocking their hips together and pretending she wasn't softly sobbing underneath him. Ashur knew they were going to end up like this. And it stood more of a hope than a fact that she would eventually enjoy his body. Perhaps not as much as she did Crixus' but certainly enough. It was difficult for him to find pleasure in hers at the moment. Guilt and self disgust seeping into his bones. He had thought that using her to punish and hurt the Gaul would be easier than this. If not for the result being his pain, Ashur would have stopped long before this moment. But it was too late now and he needed to see it through. He pities the girl, but he feels more sorry for himself. If only Dagan had not turned on him, if Indus had not been the one to die that day, if Crixus hadn't chosen the Celt over him. If Barca-

"Fuck!" Ashur he shouts eyes slamming shut, hips stuttering as his own orgasm rushes through his body without warning. His cock perfectly content to ignore the emotional turmoil the pair of them were feeling. And thinking of the Beast of Carthage again, twice in one night reminded of his touch while feeling stained by his actions stood as a trigger. As though the sensation and act were linked, trained almost upon command. Panting, he slowly pulls out of her. Wiping the sweat and tears off of his face with the back of his hand prior to gently thumbing the tears off of her cheeks. "This might not be what you desire yet, but in time you will see." Ashur kisses her forehead, slinking out of bed to gather cleaning supplies.

"Don't." She whimpers grabbing his wrist as he reaches for her cunt. He pauses studying her hand. Sighing after a moment, Ashur gives her a soft smile.

"I am simply cleaning you. A thing I know you do desire." He waits patiently and it only took a few seconds before she releases him. Nodding he gets to work unsurprised by the lack of blood on her thighs. "I understand if tonight you do not wish to sleep here." He tells her while he works. "For tonight that is fine, but tomorrow and every night after, you are to fall to slumber in my arms." Her eyes close again, seeming to accept her fate, but with more tears falling he knows her heart was breaking. Ashur sighs standing up, not bothering to dress himself yet. "Here." She peaks at him and gets up when she sees him holding her dress out to her. "Sweet Naevia, I-" Another long sigh fills the air while he watches her scramble to reclaim her modesty. 

"You're vile." She whispers through clenched teeth. He nods brushing her hair behind her ear.

"And you're beautiful." Naevia pauses glancing at him from the corner of her eye. "Rest well, the Legatus and his bitch of a wife are visiting the day after tomorrow and I am sure we will be too tired to explore each other's bodies as much as we did tonight." Her lips thin but she nods taking a step closer to the door. Ashur grabs her arm, squeezing it slightly when she looks up at him in fear. "The polite thing to do would be to wish each other pleasant dreams." Her eyes flash, anger showing on her face faster than she can bow her head. 

"Pleasant dreams then." He hums running his tongue between his teeth, slowly letting go. 

"Pleasant dreams Sweet Naevia."