This is the first Chapter to a story that I have been working on for some time. I hope you all like the start and crave for more. Feedback is welcome. Enjoy.
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The day had been hot and humid, the air thick, and what tasks would have normally taken Elysia no time at all took her eternity to complete. The clothes needed to be washed and dried, the food prepared for meals and the cleaning needed to be done. Elysia sighed as she straightened from crouching on the stone floor, a damp cloth clutched in her hands from cleaning it. She dropped the cloth in the bucket on the floor and then carried it out to the street. Blinking at the harsh sun beating down on her face, Elysia quickly poured out the contents and then walked briskly to the well in the courtyard, passing others in the street who smiled and greeted her as she went. The sun had forced most people inside, but the traders were still out, persistent in their will to sell their merchandise. Her skin prickled at the heat and grew tight on her neck, so she quickly loosed the leather tie in her hair and let the long, brown, glossy strands shield her vulnerable skin.
Wanting to get out of the heat and back inside the cool house, she attached the hook to the handle of her bucket and lowered it into the well, feeling the wood hit the surface of the water and then sink down to begin filling with the fresh, clean and cool liquid. As the bucket filled, she glanced over her shoulder at the building she and her father lived in.
Her father ran a blacksmiths, the best in the entire city, where people from all over would visit for their metal works, weapons and amour. Darius was an imposing man, standing tall and strong before weaker men, looking more giant than man. But Elysia knew that her father would not have as much business if not for this.
Her father supplied the large Arena in the city with weapons, armour and shackles, as well as the men who trained all the Gladiators who fought in it. Though Elysia knew the goings on in the Arena, her father forbade her from ever attending the fights, much to her disappointment. She would listen attentively as her father recounted, in much less detail she was sure, who fought with the most passion and determination, who fought terribly and, of course, who survived.
Coming out of her daydream, she began pulling the bucket out of the well, more desperate now to get inside. Sweat broke out over her skin and her breathing quickened as her arms began to tire.
"Allow me..." a masculine voice said from behind her. Gasping, she let go of the rope and the bucket began to fall, but a hand shot out and grasped it quickly before any more of the water escaped. The hand placed the water down on the ground as Elysia looked up into a pair of eyes that blazed with heat. The man was huge, built from labour she was sure, and he wore nothing but a rag over his groin...
And shackles around his ankles.
"Zarek!" A harsh sound ripped through the air and the man before her groaned and fell to one knee in pain. Elysia sucked in a breath at the angry looking wound that ran the entire expanse of his back and immediately knelt down to help him.
Someone grasped her arm and she was lifted to her feet. Her father's voice hissed in her ear, "Get inside, quickly! You do not wish to see this!" She collected her bucket, and then looked down at the man on the ground. He was looking up at her, though his face was pained. "Gratitude for your assistance," she said with a low bow and then hurried back inside. The sounds of raised male voices followed her to her door and just as she closed the heavy wood behind her, another slash of the whip made her jump and moan in fright.
She fought back a feeling of sickness and dread as she thought of the poor man in the street. He was odiously a slave, judging by the shackles around his feet. And she could only assume he belonged to Sardar, the Gladiator trainer, as he was tall and built, just like the others who she saw coming from and entering the Arena.
Elysia had, on more than one occasion, dreamt about slipping out of the house one afternoon to attend a match, having seen the huge men who fought there coming into the store for their amour fittings. Her breath had faltered and her skin tingled at the sight of those men, the sheer power they emphasised with their muscular bodies and beautifully marred skin. Tough seeing the man just now reminded her that they were not immortal or invincible. They were still men, with women and children and families no doubt.
Though as she remembered the faces of Gladiators past who had been in her father's store, she remembered one more vividly than others...
She had silently approached the door to the store one morning, knowing her father was playing host to a local ludus owner and one of his fighters, a relatively new Gladiator Elysia had heard whispers of whilst in the marketplace. She had leaned into the doorframe and peered through the thin gap to catch a glance at the man.
"I require amour of good quality for my newest Gladiator. You know how to please me, Darius. Make him look deadly to all men and enticing to all women, I want coin from both to fill my purse." The tall man in colourful material was saying, his back to Elysia, blocking her view.
"As you wish." My father said, bowing his head slightly as the man left with a clap to his slaves shoulder.
Elysia's breath caught.
The man was a god.
His bronzed skin glistened in the weak light from the candle, the hot day affecting him. The Gladiator's body was not the largest she had seen, but he was tall and his wide shoulders, thick biceps and muscled stomach looked just as deadly. The man had a fierce cut to his right pec which was red and angry looking and his eye was bruised from fighting. He wore a shoulder pad, made of worn leather and wool and only a small amount of rag around his groin to cover himself. His hair was cut short to his skull, a dark shadow atop his head, and a day's growth of beard coated his jaw and cheeks. His body, though enticing and alluring, drew short against the perfection of his face. His jaw was strong and pronounced, as was his nose and cheek bones, which made him look as though a sculptor had carved the beautiful lines of his face. His lips were full, enough to make it a struggle for Elysia to stay hidden and not simply pounce on him and ravish them with her own. Eyes of the deepest green looked to my father as he began to design amour for the man. They were frames with thick lashes and shone like rare jewels.
Elysia looked the man up and down a number of times, trying to remember everything about him, when he suddenly turned his head and looked at her.
She froze as her eyes met his and her body heated up even more. Her nipples grew hard and her core bloomed, growing wetter as they gazes stayed locked. She raised a hand to her chest, which rose and fell rapidly as the man's gaze grew hooded and his eyes travelled slowing down her body.
Elysia wanted nothing more than to stay there and take her fill of the Adonis before her, but her father was there and if she got caught, she would be punished.
Looking once more into the man's eyes, filled with desire, she regretfully turned away and walked as fast and silently as she could, towards the main house.
"Elysia!" he father's voice pulled her out of her daydream as he came into the wash room where she was wiping her face and neck down.
"Yes Father?" She asked, pushing her hair behind one ear and straightening her skirt with the other. Elysia feared her face may show more colour than normal and prayed to the Gods for her father not to notice.
"What were you doing with that slave?" He asked through gritted teeth. His eyes were cold and his breathing too controlled.
"I was collecting water from the well, but the sun was harsh and I could no longer lift the bucket. The rope slipped free of my hand and the men aided me, lifting it out and placing it down for me. I had no knowledge that he were a slave Father." Elysia explained calmly.
Her father relaxed. "Good. For a moment I lost myself." He came forward and picked up her hand. "You are precious to me child. If someone were to hurt you or --"
"Father, I am perfectly fine. You coddle me too much. I am a woman. Grown. I no longer need my father to shadow my every step." Elysia murmured, standing and hugging her father in a tight embrace. He wound his arms around her and held her head to his chest. "I would skin any man alive if he ever hurt you. You are all I have. I will try to be more of a man and trust in your judgement."
Elysia pulled back, laughing. "Father, you are more than a man in my eyes. You are a God and should be treated as so."
He laughed too and tenderly kissed her forehead. He stepped back and straightened.
"Now, I need to you deliver this chest plate to the Arena as fast as you can. I have clients here that need attending and that worthless son of a whore, Jacopo, is nowhere in sight. I swear when I get my hands on him, he will be shitting teeth for eternity!" He growled through gritted teeth.
"Father!" Elysia said in shock, both at his language and the prospect of going to the Arena.
"Apologies, young one..." He said.
Elysia was still shocked that her father was allowing her to go to the Arena and didn't hear her father tell her to come straight back to prepare their evening meal. She took the chest plate from her father, which weighed as much as a lamb she'd guess, and then set it down to put on her cloak.
"Remember, you need to approach Varro when you arrive. Tell him I sent you. Then-"
"Yes Father!" She said as she left the house and walked briskly down the street, past vendors and cattle traders, men selling slaves and whores, and people from the city on their way to the Arena.
The sun was still high in the sky and Elysia was growing tired as she arrived. She sought out Varro as her father had instructed. It was a struggle and took much too long, but eventually she found him.
"I was sent by Darius, my father, with your-"
"Thank the heavens! Come with me and hurry! My Gladiator fights next!" He ordered, jogging with purpose down a dark corridor.
