Gladiator Slash Fanfiction VIII: Love And Death

Author: Melinda

Pairing: Maximus/Cicero/Quentin (Norman Reedus, BOONDOCK SAINTS, GOSSIP, DARK HARBOR), and Commodus

Details: This continues from Coming Together, Part VII

Rating: NC-17

Disclaimers: Yes, I DO NOT own Maximus or anyone else in the Gladiator movie (I think Russell Crowe is scrumptious). I also don't own any characters from the movie listed above, I just think Norman Reedus is a great match for Maximus. So who ever owns the rights to these characters please don't sue, I'm a poor college student just trying to relax from studies. This is just for enjoyment. I will never make any money off of this, but I hope people like what I write

Archive: yes

Name: Love & Death, Pt VIII

Love And Death

by Melinda

Cicero started packing his own section first, knowing that Maximus would have someone else break down the rest of the tent area when the time was right. At the moment, he needed to get his things ready. Quentin kept pacing around the eating area of the tent, biting his nails nervously, watching Cicero. Cicero glanced at him occasionally, wondering at Quentin's insistence of not wanting to leave. He knew that Quentin had this link with Maximus, but how much of this was going to affect their lives?

Cicero had his bedding rolled up and was starting on his clothes when he noticed that Quentin was wearing one of Maximus' tunic. The top was way too big, almost falling off of the young one. He found a pair of pants and a top of heavier material that he hoped would keep Quentin warm. He knew he had to make sure that Quentin was ready for their journey.

"Here, put these on." Cicero handed the clothes to him. Quentin did as he was told, but since the pants were too big, he stuffed the legs into the top of his boots. He kept Maximus' tunic on underneath the clothing, taking comfort in the feel of Maximus being against his skin, even if it was just a piece of his clothing. Cicero could see that the clothes were still to big for him but they would have to do.

"Cicero please listen to me..." Quentin begged. He had to find a way to make Cicero understand that Maximus would be in danger if they left him. "I don't know how I know...but I can feel it, he needs us here, near him. Please...all we have to do is stay close to him."

Quentin didn't know how to explain this bond...this feeling as if he were being held, cradled in Maximus' mind. What Maximus saw, what he felt...sometimes what he needed, became Quentin's needs, feelings...his surroundings. When he was younger, he would get overwhelmed with these sensations, until he learned how to work with what he was feeling, seeing. The connection with his mother had always been gentle, loving and the same was with his brother. It wasn't until he met his friend and had his first bond with someone outside of his family, that he found this gift could also be a curse.

Quentin's family was shunned, his mother was considered a stranger to the village they lived in, arriving without a husband, with one child and pregnant with Quentin. His mother was a private person and didn't allow many people to get close to the family. This fed into the rumors that his mother was in contact with the Gods of the netherworlds. His mother had been able to get premonitions and would let the village know about them. The villagers, being uneducated, had been afraid of her. And when they had seen that her youngest son had the same ability, then he was shunned also.

He had been thirteen when he had become friends with one of his village's prodigal sons. Tomas had been the only son of the most prominent family and therefore revered and honored as the next leader. Tomas was fifteen and handsome. The girls in the village knew he would be a fine catch. But when Tomas had shown interest in Quentin, the village had begun to talk of running Quentin's family out of the area. One day, Quentin had known that Tomas was going to die and he had told Tomas, hoping to prevent the accident from happening. Tomas got scared of Quentin and quit coming around. Then Tomas died, the ice over the river breaking away, engulfing Tomas, his body not to be found till the following spring. After that, the villagers stayed away, living in fear of knowing the future.

One day, something not even Quentin had been able to foresee, his mother and brother were killed. The fire, which had claimed the only family he had ever known, was of mysterious origin. He could remember that day as if it was yesterday, his mother sending him to the small river by their house for water, telling him to take his time. Enjoy the day, she had said. The guilt he carried for not being there was immense, but maybe fate had played a hand in his not being home. He would never know. But the fire had left Quentin alone, isolated.

Then the war started getting closer, and more and more men were being called to fight. Finally, even the younger men were leaving to join the war. His visions had started getting stronger. He kept seeing events, people he had never seen before. The people in the village were frightened, his visions had become overpowering, more ominous. Until the soldiers came, until Quintus came. And now he was here, with the man he had always known would find him.

How could he explain all this to Cicero? That sometimes he felt Maximus so strongly that he got physically ill. That he had always felt Maximus. He had not known who he was or where he would be coming from, but Quentin had always known that Maximus would find him. How could he explain? How could he tell Cicero that along with knowing about Maximus, there was another man...a man who could destroy Rome? A man who could destroy Maximus. How do you talk about this without sounding insane?

Cicero had stopped packing and was watching Quentin. Quentin's nervousness had quieted down. He was just standing in the center of the room now, his head tilted to one side as if listening. Cicero went to Quentin, touched his face gently. Quentin's eyes came into focus as he looked up into Cicero's brown eyes.

Cicero sighed, coming to a realization that he couldn't ignore this bond between Maximus and Quentin any longer. If he was going to understand this connection he was going to have to start listening and asking questions. He gently guided Quentin to the bench by the table and sat him down. Cicero then squatted between Quentin's legs, looking up into his deep blue eyes, the color of early morning sky.

"I'm listening...tell me what's going on with you right now. Teach me, I want to understand why or what you are feeling with Maximus." Cicero brushed the hair out of Quentin's eyes. Quentin leaned forward and touched his forehead to Cicero's, rubbing their noses together, playfully. Cicero found pleasure in feeling the softness of Quentin's breath on his face.

"You are his passion, Cicero." Quentin mumbled, once again slipping into this state of mind, almost as if he was drunk. His eyelids would flutter open and shut, his features were soft. He rubbed his face against Cicero's, moaning.

"If I'm his passion, then what are you to him?" Cicero questioned, pulling back from Quentin, trying to get him to focus on his question. He waited patiently for Quentin to continue. Slowly, with some difficulty, Quentin tried to explain what he was feeling, seeing.

"I'm his life." Quentin wasn't sure how to explain, but he knew he needed someone to understand and Cicero was the first person to ever ask.

"He's always been waiting for me. I've been waiting for him...I never knew what he looked like or who he was, I just knew that he was out there, looking for me. I don't think Maximus knew what he was searching for, he just was always looking. When we are apart, the connection...the feelings, the images, are stronger, almost as if he has to find me, keep me close." Quentin was having difficulty speaking, having Maximus so full in his mind was overwhelming, making it hard to talk, to think on his own.

"Right now he's happy. He loves the Emperor and being with him brings him joy. When he's happy it's like he wraps me in a warm blanket, holding me close, rocking me as if I was a child, but needing me near him. He feels me in him, I don't have to seek him out, he takes me with him...it's hard to focus when he's like this. I just want to sink into this warmth, lay in there and stay safe..." Quentin closed his eyes, feeling Maximus caress his mind, his thoughts, making it difficult to continue. Cicero sat down on the ground, listening raptly, a little envious of the feelings Quentin was having.

"I can't stop Maximus from taking me into him nor can I stop him from shutting me out when he wants to. He just can't sever the tie. We are together now, if he dies I die." Quentin mumbled, leaning forward again, moaning, rocking back and forth as Maximus laughed with the Emperor.

"So when you are together, in the same room the connection lessens?" Cicero asked, still trying to make sense of it all.

"It doesn't lessen, it becomes different. I can see him, touch him when we are in the same room, so we connect differently." Quentin was looking at Cicero now, but there didn't seem to be any recognition in his eyes. "Maximus wants me near him. His needs are strong, I don't know if I can handle them if we aren't together. If we are far apart, Maximus can't control...I can't control what he wants. He will flood me, Cicero, I'm so scared, we can't leave him." Quentin smiled slightly, seeing Maximus, feeling Maximus talk lovingly about his home to the Emperor.

Cicero watched as Quentin fell silent, his body rocking gently to and fro. Cicero could feel this urge to hurry up and pack. He would have to continue this conversation later. He got up off the floor, bent towards Quentin, kissing him on his cheek. Quentin turned his face into the kiss, somehow recognizing the touch. He continued the rocking motion, sliding deeper into Maximus. Cicero moved back to his packing, almost done.

Quentin could feel Maximus, the warm glow that seemed to surround Maximus when he was in the presence of the old man. Quentin had felt it last night a little bit, but he hadn't understood it then. He wasn't sure if he understood it now. But somehow Maximus and the Emperor were connected. Quentin decided to explore a little bit, to see if he could find why. It was hard to search his mind and feelings when he was angry or working on keeping control, but now he was so relaxed, that his feelings just flowed through Quentin. He enjoyed this feeling but it made him lethargic, almost weak. He could sense strong emotions in Maximus where the Emperor was concerned. The more he looked, the more he could feel Maximus pushing him in another direction. Not wanting him to look too deep.

Quentin wondered if he touched the Emperor would he feel anything. He could feel Maximus stroking him, moving him away again, so he just gave up on looking. Quentin smiled as he felt Maximus laugh, hearing his gruff voice reverberate through his head. He was one with Maximus, content in knowing that they belonged together now, nothing could tear them apart.

Cicero finished packing, when he realized that he would need to arrange for food to be packed for them. Enough for four or five days and for three people. He knew Maximus wouldn't send them to Trujillo without an escort. He would need to arrange this now before Maximus got back. The order wouldn't be unusual, since he ordered large amounts of food in advance for Maximus several times a month. Maximus very seldom ate the food that was cooked for the men, even though he would sometimes sit with the men while they were eating, usually before battle. Years ago, Maximus had started eating alone with Cicero. That time had always been their time. So the order shouldn't draw too much attention. Besides, if someone else ordered the food for the General, suspicions would arise.

He looked at Quentin, hesitant about taking the boy out with him or leaving him alone in the tent. With the two guards out front he would be safer left here. He approached Quentin again and knelt once more in front of him.

"Quentin...look at me," he spoke softly trying to get Quentin's attention. Quentin was looking off somewhere in the distance. He slowly turned his head and focused back on Cicero.

"The General is happy...warm, he enjoys talking with the old man." Quentin smiled, speaking in a childlike voice.

"Listen, I need to go and arrange the food. You need to stay here. You will be safe here." Cicero stroked Quentin's face, loving the smoothness under his touch. He could see Quentin beginning to drift again.

"Quentin! Do you understand me?" Cicero demanded a little more harshly.

"I understand...you're going to get food, I'll be safe. It's all right. Maximus is laughing about his home, his son and the ponies." Quentin laughed softly. Cicero shook his head. He felt as if he was spying on Maximus.

"I'm leaving now." Cicero stood to walk out of the tent. He turned and looked at Quentin one more time. The young man was off in his own little world created by Maximus, but he seemed, at least, a little more peaceful. Cicero slipped out of the tent, nodding to the two guards and headed towards the mess tent.

******************

Quentin was content to feel Maximus' enjoyment while talking with the old man. He could sense that these two had had many conversations over the years and that Maximus held this man's heart. The awe and respect that Quentin could feel washing over him from Maximus for this Emperor was powerful, heady. Quentin could feel lethargy washing over him again, a peacefulness that was pleasant to be in. But without warning, Maximus' guard came up. Quentin almost doubled over in pain, nearly vomiting as Maximus pushed him out.

Quentin stood up and started pacing the room again. He could feel Maximus was agitated. He was trying to shut Quentin out. His stomach was doing flip-flops over the force Maximus was using to push him away. Quentin moaned, he had to get out of here. He couldn't handle the coldness, the bits and pieces of information that was coming through was sporadic. Maximus wasn't allowing Quentin to see what was going on, but he could feel everything. He could feel Maximus' irritation, his disappointment, his mood changing from longing to heightened awareness. Quentin had to get out of this tent. He couldn't be alone with these feelings.

Quentin knew of only one place he could go to get the thoughts and feelings to slow down. He couldn't handle the emotions, the pain and hurt had to stop. Quentin raced out of the tent. The guards didn't stop him. Their job was to prevent unwelcome visitors, not stop the occupants from leaving. They watched quietly as Quentin ran towards the horses stalls. The guards continued their watch.

*****************************

Maximus' head was reeling when he walked out of the Emperor's tent. How could he accept this position that the Emperor had just offered him? How could he not? He loved Marcus Aurelius and would give his life for the man, but this...to hold Rome and her future in the palm of his hands. To be the one to decide the fate of this magnificent city. Who was he? A mere soldier. He didn't have the desire to be a politician! His strengths lie in the battlefield among his men, not among the books and deeds of learned men, who sit around all day talking politics. Yet, the alternative was unthinkable. Commodus, to rule...NO! That could not happen.

All of these thoughts were racing through his head when the encounter with Lucilla brought him up short. He hadn't seen her in years, nor had he spoken with her since that day when she had left his villa, angry and hurt. Seeing her today had been unwelcome but inevitable. She had changed. Her beauty was even more enhanced with age, but there was a guarded look about her. She wasn't as open as she had been when they were lovers. Maximus smiled as he remembered the look on her face as she spoke of her son Lucius. Motherhood had added to her life, which was good. Maximus felt some sadness as he realized that the feelings he had for her from years ago were gone. But he could accept that, it was what her father had asked of him, would be the hard thing to accept.

Maximus continued to keep his mind closed. He didn't need Quentin in him at the moment. The Emperor's request could not be refused, but he had arrangements that needed to be made before he could seek Quentin out, feel him inside his thoughts again. Maximus felt empty without him, but knew it was necessary. He needed his mind about him, his senses sharp. If it the Emperor's request got into the wrong hands, there was a chance that Maximus might not be able to get Cicero and Quentin out of the camp.

He walked briskly towards his tent, his mind preoccupied with his conversation with Marcus Aurelius, when his eyes saw Valerius, his 2nd in command. He approached Valerius, getting his attention and motioning for the older man to follow him. Once Maximus found a private area away from prying eyes of the other soldiers milling about, Maximus began to speak.

"Valerius, I have a request to ask of you which must be kept quiet! No one but you will be involved with this. Would you be willing to assist me?" Maximus was a little hesitant about wanting to get someone else involved but he knew that he was going to need someone he could trust to go with Cicero and Quentin.

Valerius could feel the pride and honor rise up in him. He had been with Maximus from the early days in infantry. Even though he was older then the General, Maximus' had earned his respect and loyalty from the very beginning. Valerius had never seen anyone have so much power, control and compassion for the lives of his men and for the cause of Rome, as the General had. Valerius would give his life for the General's cause, as would ninety percent of the General's army.

"I accept any assignment you give me without question, Sir! I would die for you, Sir!" Valerius snapped to attention, waiting for the General to continue.

"Let's hope that dying will not be necessary." Maximus smiled slightly, knowing that Valerius was the one man he could trust with this mission. Valerius had always been loyal to Maximus, as a friend and a soldier. He had shown common sense and nerves of steel when situations had come up that would have caused the best of men to run and hide. Maximus had come to enjoy the man's stability and honesty. After many battles and it came time for the men to go home to their wives, Maximus had taken Valerius to his home in Trujillo, knowing that the old man didn't have a wife. Valerius had enjoyed the air and simple life Maximus had going for him.

"I need you to take my servant, Cicero, and another servant I recently acquired, to my villa in Trujillo. I can trust no one else with this. Things are going to change around here and these two do not need to be involved. Can you do this for me?" Maximus queried, searching for any hesitation in the man's eyes or voice.

"Yes, sir! When do you want us to leave?" Valerius didn't hesitate, but his curiosity was peaked. The General sending his manservant away! This was an incredible change of events.

Valerius remembered when Maximus had shown up in the beginning. Most foot soldiers didn't have their own manservant's, but here was this young man, barely twenty, with his own servant. Usually this would have set the man up for ridicule from the other soldiers, but early on, Maximus had been a man to reckon with. He had proved himself time and again, that he was an honorable man, a man you would want beside you in battle. Soon, no one questioned why he had a servant. He had won the men's hearts and souls, with many of them still in the army to this day, following the General to every battle.

Cicero, however, had always been present, waiting for each battle to be over to serve Maximus. None of the men, even Valerius, knew the exact nature of their relationship, but one memory stood out for Valerius, as he was sure for a lot of the men, for this incident was retold throughout the camp time and again.

It had been several years ago, Maximus had just been given the General's position, when an up and coming young officer in the Felix regiment had approached the General's servant at a watering area. Several men had been standing around and couldn't believe their eyes when this officer had started laughing at the scars on the man's face, "wondering what the General could want with such an ugly thing", on and on the man had went. Valerius remembered the hurt in the servant's face and the anger he had felt. But before he could approach the officer and reprimand the man, the General had stepped into the circle of men who had gathered around the confrontation.

The General approached the young officer, not in a threatening manner, but the General had such an aura about him, that even the officer knew when to shut up. Maximus had circled the officer, not saying a word, just looking at him, sizing him up.

"Tell, captain, is this how you treat your own men that work hard beneath you?" Maximus asked with a quietness in his voice, that if Valerius hadn't been standing near he would not have been able to hear the conversation.

"Sir, I treat my men with respect, sir!" The officer was standing at attention.

"Ahhh...you only treat servants in this manner." The General nodded as if understanding. You could see the officer begin to relax.

"Sir, the servants have their place, sir." The officer stated, maybe feeling an opening and thinking that the General was on his side.

"Tell me, captain, who does this servant belong to?" The General still hadn't raised his voice, but his mannerism had changed ever so slightly. Unless you had worked with the General as long as Valerius had, you wouldn't have known that captain was in a lot of trouble. The captain had no idea what was going on.

"I believe he belongs to the Felix regiment, sir." The captain clearly lied, hoping that the General would take into consideration that he was new and didn't know all that need to be known with this regiment. Maximus stopped circling the man and stood directly in front of the him.

"Tell me what you said to the servant." Maximus lowered his eyelids, watching intently the captain's response.

"Sir, I just asked the servant how did he get the scars and if people were shocked to see them, sir!" The captain lied again. Valerius could see a muscle twitch on the left side of Maximus jaw, the only sign that he was furious with this man.

"You are not speaking the truth. I heard everything you said to this servant. You have lied twice already. You knew the servant belonged to me and the things you said were not in the form of questions but taunts and ridicule. You are to leave this camp, my regiment. I do not allow liars or bullies in my army. You have dishonored yourself in front me and my men. If I see you again, I will kill you!" Maximus had leaned in close to the captain, making sure he had the man's full attention. He spoke the words short and directly, but Valerius could see that it took everything the General had not to unsheathe his sword and kill the man. A lesser man would have. Maximus turned and grabbed Cicero's hand, walking away to their tent, leaving the captain to stew in his own mess. Somehow, Valerius knew, that Maximus felt responsible for the scarred man's features. That night, though Valerius didn't understand the full nature of their relationship, he wouldn't have been surprised to see how Maximus acted towards Cicero...Maximus had apologized for the soldier's behavior. Cicero had wanted to cry, seeing the pain on Maximus' face. He just told Maximus that they were "just words". Maximus had responded with "words that should have never been spoken." Cicero had went to bed early, and Maximus had sat up all night watching Cicero sleep, occasionally touching the scars on his face. Cicero would wake up from the touch, but would fall back to sleep when he saw that it was just Maximus, caressing him.

Now Maximus was entrusting him with both of his servants. What could be going on to have the General send his servants away? This Cicero, had always been a constant, never far from battle. It had always seemed as if the General couldn't live without this man and now he was sending him away! Something big was going to happen. Valerius could sense it, smell it in the air.

Curiosity had risen in the camp about the new servant Maximus had acquired and the kiss that had been witnessed earlier had made the camp come alive with rumors. It wasn't uncommon for officers to take or bring their own sex slaves, to keep them satisfied on their long journey's away from their loved ones. But the General, he had never shown any affection in public before, not even for Cicero. Hell, the General had shown no desire of the flesh ever!! And now, here he was kissing this young servant and asking to have both of his servants taken to his home in Trujillo. This was becoming a mystery. But Valerius was up to the challenge.

Maximus and Valerius talked for several more minutes, arranging the departure of the servants, then they went their separate ways to complete the tasks at hand.

*************************

Quentin picked up a brush and started brushing Argento's mane. Maybe he would take the horse for a run, clear his head. Quentin had learned early on that the only way he could quiet the turmoil that sometimes raced through him was to be in the presence of animals. Horses had always been his preference. The beasts were magnificent and heroic in their loyalty to their masters. He felt a kinship with them and enjoyed their quiet manner. Looking into a horses eyes was like looking into a wise man's soul. The peace Quentin felt was necessary.

The animals didn't block everything, but it made the noise in his head more manageable. Maximus was quiet, or rather Quentin was shut out, but he could still feel Maximus' needs. At the moment, he was urgent, wanting, almost demanding and Quentin didn't like those feelings. Quentin continued to brush the horse, unaware of the eyes which had followed him into the stalls. His mind preoccupied, he could not sense the presence at the stall entrance.

Commodus had been looking out over the compound, drying the sweat from his body after his morning workout of swordsmanship, when he saw Quentin running towards the stalls. Commodus had watched for a few minutes, waiting to see if Maximus would follow. Not seeing the General, he walked over to the stalls, his Praetorian body guards following a short distance behind, ever watching.

Commodus could sense the boy before he got to the door. He knew Maximus' scent would be all over him. This caused an arousal in Commodus that he hadn't expected. He stood at the door watching the boy brush the horse. The young man was unaware of his presence, his mind concentrating on each stroke of the brush. Commodus let his eyes roam over the young man's body and he wanted to touch and kiss this man where Maximus had touched and kissed. Commodus wanted to possess what Maximus possessed. He entered the stall and reached for Quentin.

Continues in Savior