The Road To Freedom
folder
G through L › Gladiator
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
4
Views:
1,932
Reviews:
2
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
G through L › Gladiator
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
4
Views:
1,932
Reviews:
2
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own the movie that this fanfiction is written for, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Part 2
Title: The Road To Freedom
Fandom: Gladiator (movie)/Lord of the Rings
Author: Lynsey
Websites: http://lynsey-schadegg.livejournal.com/ and http://lotr.adult-fanfiction.org/authors.php?no=1296789875 .
Mailing List: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Fiction_by_Lynsey/
Beta: Tena
Chapter: 2/?
Pairings: None yet
Rating: PG this chapter, NC-17 overall
Warnings: Slash, AU for both LoTR and Gladiator
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Do not sue, all I got are college loans, and this isn’t helping to pay them off.
Summary: Maximus makes a request of Proximo that changes his life…again.
A/N: This will not follow the movie. I have changed...a lot of stuff. Therefore, the AU warning.
Maximus sat on the small cot that took up one wall of his cell. Proximo was a generous slave-lord compared to most, and his higher ranking gladiators had private cells, a consideration that Maximus was greatly thankful for. Torch light came through the windows and holes in the roof, making the room rather bright for how late it was. Maximus had long grown use to the seemingly never-sleeping compound, and he easily blocked out the light and noise every night.
It was not long after leaving Proximo and settling into his cell that Maximus heard the scuffling outside his door that marked the coming of the guards. From the sounds of the fight beyond the barred wooden door, his visitor was less than willing. The groaning of the lock being turned lead to the rusted squeaking of the door swinging open. A dark blur was thrown into the room before the door was slammed shut again. A small window in the wood was opened and a guard viewed into the room, searching out Maximus’ eyes.
“Good luck wit that one,” the guard said jerking his chin at the bundle of rags on the floor. “He’s got spunk…and he don’ speak any language we’ve ever heard, so there’s no reasonin’ wit ‘im.”
The small window closed and Maximus was left alone with his new...well…whatever this person was to him.
The bundle of rags suddenly moved to the opposite corner from Maximus, dragging its left leg awkwardly behind it. Standing, the unknown entity revealed itself to be the most beautiful male Maximus had ever seen. Even dirty and bound in rags the being was lovely. It was obvious that the other male’s leg was badly injured and useless. His dark, almond eyes were glazed in pain and possibly fever. Strands of scraggly black hair hung in front of his porcelain pale face, and his visage was twisted into an angered snarl. He looked young, but there was something about his eyes that told Maximus that the other male was much older than he looked.
“Well then,” said Maximus, “now what am I going to do with you?”
The gorgeous creature across from him spit like a large, enraged cat.
“It’s nice to meet you too.”
A growl.
Maximus sighed. He hadn’t thought that he would have needed to deal with something like this when he agreed to Proximo’s offer. The gladiator had thought he would be receiving a prostitute, an eager and willing whore with whom he could slake his need and frustrations. He did not want to take anyone by force, and he especially did not want to deal with anything that was more work than it was worth.
The gladiator lay down on his bed after throwing a blanket into the middle of the room. “I’m going to sleep,” he told the other man. “Do what you will.” Maximus rolled over to face the wall and got comfortable.
Several minutes later, the shuffling sound of the other occupant of the room woke the gladiator from a light doze. He heard the other male sink down to sit on the ground then pull himself over the blanket. His leg must be in terrible shape if he cannot even take the few steps required to reach the blanket, Maximus thought. He heard the beautiful creature try to make itself comfortable on the ground, and he also heard the grunts and hisses of pain.
The gladiator rolled over and regarded the bundle of rags that was now lying upon the blanket. He lay so that his bad leg was not touching the ground. Tears made their way down perfect, glowing cheeks to make tracks of mud on the pale face. He gently started to palpate his own leg, and he let out a choked cry of agony as he probed his hip. From the way the leg was held and the fact that the limb was completely useless told Maximus that it was mostly likely dislocated.
So much for sleeping tonight.
“I can help if you want,” Maximus whispered quietly.
The dark head whipped around, startled. Maximus could not help but let out a quiet, “Oh,” as he was caught in the beauty that was those amazing eyes. The irises were so dark a brown as to be nearly indistinguishable from the pupils. The man continued to stare at him in fear, and the look on his face told the Spaniard that the other man obviously had no idea what he was talking about. The dark beauty struggled to sit up as Maximus moved to sit on the edge of his cot. “Let’s start with something simple,” he began. He pointed to himself and said, “Maximus.”
The darkling stopped struggling and collapsed back onto the floor in a fatigued heap. The sharp, fevered eyes regarded the gladiator with a cunning intelligence that almost frightened the veteran warrior.
“Maximus,” said the other male, his voice low and hoarse, as if he had been screaming for a long time.
“Yes,” nodded the gladiator in encouragement. “Maximus,” he pointed to himself again, then pointed to the darkling in hopes that he would understand.
The beauty was quiet for a moment before he whispered, “Erestor,” and pointed to himself.
It was an odd name, one he had never stumbled upon in his travels. Maximus struggled to place the looks and accent of this Erestor to some area of the Roman Empire and failed.
Maximus pointed to Erestor’s leg and then to himself. Again hoping that the darkling would understand he wanted to help.
Weary but wanting to be free of his pain, Erestor wrinkled his brow in thought. Finally, he gestured the gladiator forward. Maximus slowly moved to his knees by the dark beauty, hoping he was being as non-threatening as possible. He reached for the leg at a snail’s pace and felt the hip. A moan of pain escaped lips that became pale as blood rushed from Erestor’s face. He almost looked as if he would faint.
Confirming that the leg was dislocated, Maximus sat back and glanced around the room. The ex-soldier knew what he needed to do to fix the luxation, but he needed something for the other man to bite down on. Inspired, he removed his belt and folded it over. He brought the doubled leather to Erestor’s mouth and looked at him hopefully. Erestor opened his lips to accept the bit, closing his eyes in preparation for what he knew needed done. Maximus tried to maneuver Erestor as gently as he could to put him in reaching distance of the bars on the door. Several metal bars ran the length of the door to make it sturdier, and they were placed in such a way that one could wrap their hands around them. The darkling cried out softly as he was moved and he pushed the gladiator’s hands away, opening his eyes to glare in anger. Maximus gestured for Erestor to grab the bars, and when the beauty finally acquiesced, the gladiator took the leg in his large hands, positioned it, and *pulled*.
Erestor screamed in agony around the leather in his mouth. Maximus thought that he would fall unconscious, but Erestor hung on until the soft ‘pop’ of the femur snapping back into place was felt more than heard. Then, the darkling’s hands fell away from the bars over his head, and he fainted.
TBC…
Fandom: Gladiator (movie)/Lord of the Rings
Author: Lynsey
Websites: http://lynsey-schadegg.livejournal.com/ and http://lotr.adult-fanfiction.org/authors.php?no=1296789875 .
Mailing List: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Fiction_by_Lynsey/
Beta: Tena
Chapter: 2/?
Pairings: None yet
Rating: PG this chapter, NC-17 overall
Warnings: Slash, AU for both LoTR and Gladiator
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Do not sue, all I got are college loans, and this isn’t helping to pay them off.
Summary: Maximus makes a request of Proximo that changes his life…again.
A/N: This will not follow the movie. I have changed...a lot of stuff. Therefore, the AU warning.
Maximus sat on the small cot that took up one wall of his cell. Proximo was a generous slave-lord compared to most, and his higher ranking gladiators had private cells, a consideration that Maximus was greatly thankful for. Torch light came through the windows and holes in the roof, making the room rather bright for how late it was. Maximus had long grown use to the seemingly never-sleeping compound, and he easily blocked out the light and noise every night.
It was not long after leaving Proximo and settling into his cell that Maximus heard the scuffling outside his door that marked the coming of the guards. From the sounds of the fight beyond the barred wooden door, his visitor was less than willing. The groaning of the lock being turned lead to the rusted squeaking of the door swinging open. A dark blur was thrown into the room before the door was slammed shut again. A small window in the wood was opened and a guard viewed into the room, searching out Maximus’ eyes.
“Good luck wit that one,” the guard said jerking his chin at the bundle of rags on the floor. “He’s got spunk…and he don’ speak any language we’ve ever heard, so there’s no reasonin’ wit ‘im.”
The small window closed and Maximus was left alone with his new...well…whatever this person was to him.
The bundle of rags suddenly moved to the opposite corner from Maximus, dragging its left leg awkwardly behind it. Standing, the unknown entity revealed itself to be the most beautiful male Maximus had ever seen. Even dirty and bound in rags the being was lovely. It was obvious that the other male’s leg was badly injured and useless. His dark, almond eyes were glazed in pain and possibly fever. Strands of scraggly black hair hung in front of his porcelain pale face, and his visage was twisted into an angered snarl. He looked young, but there was something about his eyes that told Maximus that the other male was much older than he looked.
“Well then,” said Maximus, “now what am I going to do with you?”
The gorgeous creature across from him spit like a large, enraged cat.
“It’s nice to meet you too.”
A growl.
Maximus sighed. He hadn’t thought that he would have needed to deal with something like this when he agreed to Proximo’s offer. The gladiator had thought he would be receiving a prostitute, an eager and willing whore with whom he could slake his need and frustrations. He did not want to take anyone by force, and he especially did not want to deal with anything that was more work than it was worth.
The gladiator lay down on his bed after throwing a blanket into the middle of the room. “I’m going to sleep,” he told the other man. “Do what you will.” Maximus rolled over to face the wall and got comfortable.
Several minutes later, the shuffling sound of the other occupant of the room woke the gladiator from a light doze. He heard the other male sink down to sit on the ground then pull himself over the blanket. His leg must be in terrible shape if he cannot even take the few steps required to reach the blanket, Maximus thought. He heard the beautiful creature try to make itself comfortable on the ground, and he also heard the grunts and hisses of pain.
The gladiator rolled over and regarded the bundle of rags that was now lying upon the blanket. He lay so that his bad leg was not touching the ground. Tears made their way down perfect, glowing cheeks to make tracks of mud on the pale face. He gently started to palpate his own leg, and he let out a choked cry of agony as he probed his hip. From the way the leg was held and the fact that the limb was completely useless told Maximus that it was mostly likely dislocated.
So much for sleeping tonight.
“I can help if you want,” Maximus whispered quietly.
The dark head whipped around, startled. Maximus could not help but let out a quiet, “Oh,” as he was caught in the beauty that was those amazing eyes. The irises were so dark a brown as to be nearly indistinguishable from the pupils. The man continued to stare at him in fear, and the look on his face told the Spaniard that the other man obviously had no idea what he was talking about. The dark beauty struggled to sit up as Maximus moved to sit on the edge of his cot. “Let’s start with something simple,” he began. He pointed to himself and said, “Maximus.”
The darkling stopped struggling and collapsed back onto the floor in a fatigued heap. The sharp, fevered eyes regarded the gladiator with a cunning intelligence that almost frightened the veteran warrior.
“Maximus,” said the other male, his voice low and hoarse, as if he had been screaming for a long time.
“Yes,” nodded the gladiator in encouragement. “Maximus,” he pointed to himself again, then pointed to the darkling in hopes that he would understand.
The beauty was quiet for a moment before he whispered, “Erestor,” and pointed to himself.
It was an odd name, one he had never stumbled upon in his travels. Maximus struggled to place the looks and accent of this Erestor to some area of the Roman Empire and failed.
Maximus pointed to Erestor’s leg and then to himself. Again hoping that the darkling would understand he wanted to help.
Weary but wanting to be free of his pain, Erestor wrinkled his brow in thought. Finally, he gestured the gladiator forward. Maximus slowly moved to his knees by the dark beauty, hoping he was being as non-threatening as possible. He reached for the leg at a snail’s pace and felt the hip. A moan of pain escaped lips that became pale as blood rushed from Erestor’s face. He almost looked as if he would faint.
Confirming that the leg was dislocated, Maximus sat back and glanced around the room. The ex-soldier knew what he needed to do to fix the luxation, but he needed something for the other man to bite down on. Inspired, he removed his belt and folded it over. He brought the doubled leather to Erestor’s mouth and looked at him hopefully. Erestor opened his lips to accept the bit, closing his eyes in preparation for what he knew needed done. Maximus tried to maneuver Erestor as gently as he could to put him in reaching distance of the bars on the door. Several metal bars ran the length of the door to make it sturdier, and they were placed in such a way that one could wrap their hands around them. The darkling cried out softly as he was moved and he pushed the gladiator’s hands away, opening his eyes to glare in anger. Maximus gestured for Erestor to grab the bars, and when the beauty finally acquiesced, the gladiator took the leg in his large hands, positioned it, and *pulled*.
Erestor screamed in agony around the leather in his mouth. Maximus thought that he would fall unconscious, but Erestor hung on until the soft ‘pop’ of the femur snapping back into place was felt more than heard. Then, the darkling’s hands fell away from the bars over his head, and he fainted.
TBC…