The Road To Freedom

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: None
Chapter: 4/?
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¡Kagain.
A/N: So, I¡¦m totally butchering historical events, and, well, historical anything to make this story how I want it. Just so you are aware that I already know that most of what I¡¦m writing is not historically accurate in any way, shape, or form. I had to make it fit my plot ƒº

Two men died when Erestor had used the chain around his ankle to strangle them.

They put a shorter chain on him.

Another man had died when Erestor disarmed him of his sword with nothing but his bare hands and decapitated him.

Another man died trying to retrieve the sword.

"Leave him out there. The sun will get to him eventually."

The next two days were spent in wait. Proximo appeared at one point, tsking from the shade of his canopy at the fierce beauty panting and sweating in the blazing heat. "I don't understand why you want to try and train him. He's too headstrong, too hard to break. He'll die before he will do what you want."

"Was I easy to break?" Maximus had replied.

"You were broken before I got you. I didn't have to do anything but put a sword in your hand and prod a few times."

Finally after two long, scorching days without food or drink, the darkling was too weak to even stand for the unbearable heat of the sun.

Maximus approached, standing just outside of the darkling's reach. Even panting and salivating while laying on the ground, the man scowled at the gladiator.

"Slide the sword over here," Maximus demanded, he mimed sliding the sword over the ground. The darkling growled. "Do it, or you won't get any of this-" he dangled a skin full of water in the air. Erestor worked his dry mouth and spat out more curses in his own language. "If you don't want to play, you won't get any. Slide the sword over here and I'll give you a drink," he mimed sliding the object again.

A hand covered in blood and dirt grasped the hilt of the sword and shoved it towards Maximus. The gladiator grabbed the sword and flung it a good distance away, better safe than sorry. He knelt down within touching distance holding the water before him.

"Come on," Maximus coaxed. "I'm not going to invade your space. You have to come to me." He motioned forward with his hands, knowing the other did not understand him. Erestor sat up with effort, his arms shaking with the strength it took. He crawled the few steps it took to get to Maximus and collapsed onto his side, eyes closing and panting with exertion and sweat pouring off his brow. Maximus tilted the delicate head until the darkling's mouth was upwards and dribbled some of the water from the skin onto dry, cracked, and bloodied lips. Erestor's eyes opened and his dry tongue swept out to lap up the drops. Maximus slowly placed his hand at the back of the other's neck and tilted his head so he wouldn't choke. He placed the skin at Erestor¡¦s mouth and inverted it slowly. The darkling moaned, swallowing greedily as the blessed water slid down his throat.

Maximus pulled the skin away, smiling when the darkling tried to follow it. Those dark eyes opened again to bore into the gladiator's.

"Why did you stop me from escaping?"

Maximus dropped the darkling's head, which fell into the dirt. Erestor did not try to move, but lay still, blinking up at Maximus.

"You can speak this language?"

Erestor did not respond, still staring.

Realizing Erestor was waiting for a response, Maximus rubbed the back of his neck. "I'm...not sure."

Erestor nodded and closed his eyes, starting to pant again from the heat.

"Do you promise not to fight me?"

Erestor cracked one eye open and clenched his fist. "I promise nothing."

"You will die here on the ground, chained like a dog just for the sake of stubbornness?"

Erestor spat at him.

Maximus wiped the sputum from his face and laughed. "Surely you were born of a fire spirit with an attitude like that." He waved at some of the slaves yelling, "Bring me a pair of wrist shackles with chains as short as you can make them. Same for the ankles." Erestor growled in response but was too weak to do anything as his wrists and ankles were shackled together too tightly for him to run, or use the chain to strangle anyone.

The gladiator lifted the limp form and took him to his cell, laying the bundle on his cot. He called for a pitcher of water and a cloth and began striping the darkling of the rags that adorned him. Erestor watched Maximus wearily as he cut the rags from his body and greedily gulped down every drop of water the gladiator gave him. The former commander washed Erestor's body of the blood and dirt that had been caked on. Underneath was smooth, pale, unblemished skin. He had expected blistering and weeping burns from overexposure to the sun, but the ivory surface was unmarked. Not a bruise or a scratch remained from his previous injuries. The body before him was as perfect as a marble statue carved for the Emperor's enjoyment.

"How were you able to do this?" Maximus traced over the area of the once dislocated hip and broken ankle. "You shouldn't have been able to move that morning, let alone run, jump, and fight. If I didn't know any better, I would say you were never injured."

"I heal quickly," was the succinct answer.

"I gathered that," Maximus responded dryly. "I want to know how."

"Call it a gift."

Maximus scowled and pinched the bare hip he was cleaning. Erestor yelped and swung his chained arms at the gladiator, only to have them forced back to the bed. The two glared at each other for several minutes, before Maximus slowly let go of the bound wrists and returned to cleaning once Erestor didn't make a move to hit him again.

"Why did you pretend to not know our language?"

"Never reveal all your cards to the enemy."

"True enough."

They were silent for a moment. Maximus furrowed his brow. "How did you come to be here?"

"So full of questions, human?" Maximus raised an eyebrow at that, but decided to ignore the strange statement for now.

"Just curious."

Erestor snorted. "Give me more water, and I'll tell you."

"Demanding," Maximus accused, but gave the darkling several deep pulls from the water skin.

"By order of our King, my partner and I were investigating a suspicious report made by one of our scouts. We were pursued, and my horse panicked at the wrong time. I was thrown, but my foot became caught in the stirrup. I was dragged for awhile before I could free myself. Our pursuers caught up and captured me. My partner managed to escape."

Maximus grinned. So he had been right. "That would be why Roman saddles don't have stirrups."

Erestor glared. "Roman saddles are insufficient. They would not be able to accommodate my riding style," he sniffed disdainfully.

"Who is your King?"

"Why should I tell you? What would you do with the information? Rat me out to the local authorities? I've already been bought and sold twice and hauled halfway across the world from the area I was captured in. No one here even cares. Why do you need to know the name of my King?"

"Again, I'm a curious person."

Erestor smiled, a calm and smug kind of smile. "My King is called many things. Oberon, Freyr, Auberon, Ing...so many more than I can mention. All the tribes call him a different name. I call him friend, father, lover, healer, teacher."

Maximus' eyes widened considerably, recognizing the names. "Are you telling me you answer to the King of the Elves?" Then he laughed, throwing the soiled cloth into the murky water of the bowl. "Am I to believe in faeries? Are you a faerie as well?"

Erestor smiled and lifted his hands through the metal of the restraints. "What do you think, Maximus Decimus Meridius?"

TBC...