I just wanted to say before I started that I've thought for a while about doing a story about Spartacus. I debated with myself about whether I felt it was appropriate or not considering the death of Andy Whitfield. I decided that I would write this since I feel that as a whole, Spartacus is an extraordinarily interesting storyline. I hope that I can do it justice as everyone involved in the show deserves no less.

He winced as she dabbed his open wound with a wet cloth.

"Hold still, Barca. This needs to be cleaned."

He glared at the woman with such ferocity that immediately she pulled her eyes away from his gaze before dipping the cloth back into the bowl of water, careful to apply only a small fragment of pressure onto his arm.

"You should be more careful next time."

"One cannot hold back when training to fight in the arena."

She locked her eyes with him and for a moment, thought that she saw something more than the beast of Carthage behind his eyes.

She shook her head, "no. I suppose one cannot."

She stood up from her place on the bed and walked towards the small table nestled in the corner of the room, leaving her cloth and bowl behind. She reached out for a long sheath of fabric before tearing it to an appropriate length as she made her way back to the gladiator.

"Give me your arm."

He reluctantly lifted his left arm slightly so she could wrap the cloth around it. He tried to ignore the hurt as best he could. A gladiator should never show pain.

Small footsteps slid over the sand as they approached the two.

"Is he alright?"

She looked over and saw a timid Pietros standing before her. She nodded slightly, "he's fine."

"It was just a scratch. Nothing more."

She noticed the look of comfort that Barca extended towards the young boy. She'd often wondered if there was anything more to their relationship than lust and passion. She had heard from other slaves and talk amongst the gladiators that what had once been a mere brotherly bond had turned sexual a few months before.

Pietros had always been a nice boy. A little too nice, she thought.

She brushed the thoughts of the two men aside before smiling at Pietros. "It would take more than a scratch to get rid of your Barca."

She nodded slightly before she felt the touch of Medicus on her arm.

"You may take your leave. Rest for now. Return after sundown."

"Yes, Medicus."

She made her way out of the dank, dark rooms towards the light coming from the yard of the ludus.

She inhaled deeply as the fresh air hit her body, not wanting to return to the inside.

She heard a command to open the gates as the gladiators gathered against the cement poles which supported the balcony of the house of her Dominus and Domina.

She stepped towards the edge of the concrete and stopped short of letting the sand sit beneath her feet. Her dress slithered across her skin as a slight gust of wind swept across her body. The shiver was a welcome feeling after leaving the humid air that encompassed her work station.

She watched as a dozen or so men, held together by chains, were marched into the centre of the yard and forced to stand side by side, each facing the gladiators who were looking at them as if they were their new prey.

"Welcome to the house of Batiatus!"

She turned her body towards the balcony where she saw her Dominus standing, arms open, peering down at his newly prized possessions.

She didn't care to listen as he told a wonderful yarn about how thanks to him each of these men were given a new lease on life. How they would train each day to become masters of the arena. How one day some might even become legends. Thanks to Batiatus, of course.

She let her eyes roam over the captured men, each one different from the other. It had been a while since her Dominus had purchased new slaves for the ludus and she felt sad to admit that she was excited for it. She hated the thought of more people becoming slaves, bound to their masters, but she had been forced to become a part of this equation several years before, not allowed to leave the walls of her prison without her Dominus at her side. Her thoughts drifted for a moment as she let herself think that maybe one or more of them could be quite useful to her. After all, it had been a long time since she had been able to deal with her desires.

No. These men are for Dominus. Not for me.

She felt a presence stand behind her.

"Are you pleased with our new recruits?"

She did not have to look to see who it was. Ashur, a former gladiator, had a distinctive presence when he was around. His voice seemed so monotone with a hint of deviousness that she longed to be rid of.

She turned her head to the side and looked down, addressing him but refusing to look him in the eye.

"It is unfortunate that these men do not know what lies ahead of them."

Ashur moved a few steps forward to look down at her. "That is part of the entertainment."

She looked out towards the men, "I do not find death to be entertainment."

He smiled, "then you should not have come to work in the ludus."

"It was not my choice."

Their conversation was broken as Doctore addressed the men.

"What is beneath your feet?"

Silence. She hated this part.

Doctore glared at the men. "Answer! What is beneath your feet?"

She cringed as an unnamed man opened his mouth to speak.

"Sand?"

The sound of the gladiators laughing in mockery caused her to become uneasy.

Doctore slid his hand along the handle of his whip before turning towards the gladiators.

"Crixus! What is beneath your feet?"

Crixus. She'd never been very fond of him. A skilled warrior but an arrogant one at that. He had the muscles of a god and the stamina of an ox but she had always hated his foolish pride.

"Sacred ground, Doctore. Watered with the tears of blood."

"Your tears! Your blood! Your pathetic lives forged into something of worth. Listen! Learn! And perhaps live as gladiators. Now! Listen to your master."

She inhaled a deep breath as another gust of wind caressed her body. She had suddenly realized the heat that had taken hold of the ludus and was desperately hoping for more relief.

Batiatus grinned mischievously as he looked at his men.

"You have been blessed! Each and every one of you, to find yourself here at the ludus of Quintus Lentulus Batiatus, purvayor of the finest gladiators in all of the Republic!"

She couldn't help but hide her disgust as the gladiators cheered.

"Prove yourselves in the hard days to follow. Prove yourselves more than a common slave – more than a man! Fail and die, either here where you stand, or sold off to the mines. Succeed, and stand among my titans!"

As the gladiators roared with the sound of their masters name she longed to be anywhere but here.

Doctore stepped forward and addressed the men once more.

"A gladiator does not fear death. He embraces it. Caresses it. Fucks it. Each time he enters the arena, he slips his cock in the mouth of the beast, and prays to thrust home before the jaws snap shut."

She felt Ashur place his hand on her arm, running his fingertips down to her elbow.

"Are you still not pleased for this day?"

"I will only be pleased if each of these men can survive the test."

"Ah, then you are a woman who desires what she cannot have."

"I desire a lot of things, Ashur. Being here with you is not one of them. Please remove your hand from me."

He let out a laugh before he leaned against a column.

"Do you see that man standing next to the blonde one?"

She shifted her gaze and nodded. "What about him?"

"They call him Spartacus."

"Spartacus? You mean the Thracian king?"

"Named after the very same. He won his battle against his own execution. Fought against four men. Claudius Glaber was particularly unhappy with the outcome."

"Is that why Batiatus purchased him? To displease Glaber?"

"One reason of many."

She watched as the scene unfolded before her. Doctore singled out the man called Spartacus and told of his defeat against the four men in the arena. As he addressed him she noticed Spartacus' distaste for the man. Or was it the situation? She had often felt distaste towards the ludus. It was a cruel place. Unyielding in it's dominance and seemingly unbreakable. She had had many dreams of freedom, sometimes seeming so real that when she awoke she couldn't help but feel sadness, for her freedom was never to come.

"Spartacus!"

She gasped as Doctore cracked his whip and set it upon the man. To her amazement he caught it around his wrist, causing blood to form beneath the material.

"That is not my name."

A wave of heat rushed over her. The sound of his voice and his inner strength had caused her to feel something she had never felt before. A longing, a deep and terrible longing and arousal for him.

She paid close attention as he was pulled from his feet and fell upon the sand.

She felt a desire to run to him, to help him to his feet, but she knew that he would not stand a day in this ludus if he were to be helped by a woman.

She avoided her gaze from the scene as he was ordered to perform a demonstration with the great and mighty Crixus. She knew that he would fail. Crixus had never fallen in the arena, even when faced with a superior foe. How could this man defeat him?

"You do not seem to like this confrontation."

She finally let her gaze fall upon Ashur. "I do not like to see people being treated as such."

"You would think that a slave would be used to it."

"I may be a slave but I can still have compassion for people."

"My lady, you should forget such things as compassion. They only cause people pain."

"I am not like you Ashur."

"Compassion for others is to be weak. You cannot live in this world and think about anyone other than yourself."

She looked into his eyes and bit her lip. "I am not weak."

He looked down at her, "good. Because no matter what you do this ludus will always be a place where the weak fall and the strong survive. That is something to remember."

"You speak to me as if I were a gladiator."

"I speak to you as one slave would speak to another."

She pulled her gaze away from him as she saw that the confrontation was over.

She felt a slight tap on her shoulder and jumped slightly, "oh, Pietros. I apologize. You startled me."

He smiled at her, "it is no matter. Medicus has asked that you return to aid him for a short while. A few of the new recruits need some tending to after their meal."

"Thank you, Pietros."

She looked towards Ashur before leaving the yard and returning to her post.

"This will not take long to heal, will it? I have heard stories of the test and I want to be capable of doing my best."

She looked down at the man, "I suspect you will be fine within a day or two. It is not a deep wound, I assure you."

The man stood up and she noticed that he was a considerable amount taller than her. "I thank you for your service."

"It was no problem."

He extended his hand towards her, "I am Varro."

She looked at his hand for a moment before realizing that she was being provided a common courtesy.

She allowed her delicate hand to be taken in by his, "I am Ariana."

She heard footsteps across the floor coming towards her.

"If you do not mind, I need some tending to."

She looked behind her and her heart stopped beating within her chest. The man, Spartacus, was standing before her. All breath felt removed from her body as she looked into his blue eyes and saw a deep sadness behind him. She found words hard to come by.

"Of course. Sit. Please."

As she went to grab a wooden bowl and fill it with water she noticed that Varro had not left and had taken a seat next to Spartacus on the bed. She heard the two of them whispering something to one another. She had hoped that neither of them had been able to notice that she had become flustered at the mere presence of Spartacus.

She reached for two cloths, dipped one into the water and held another in the chest of her dress.

She saw that there was no space for her on the bed as she bent down onto her knees in front of Spartacus.

Varro looked at her, "did you require me to move?"

She shook her head, "no, I'm fine. Thank you."

Varro touched her shoulder, "this is Ariana. She has tended to my wounds already."

Spartacus said nothing but gave her a slight nod.

She fought the urge to say hello to the man as he appeared to be in no mood to speak with her. She sighed inwardly at her realization.

Varro leaned forward, "Ariana, may I ask you something?"

"You may ask me whatever you wish."

"What do you know of this test that has been spoken of?"

She felt her hands shaking as she moved slightly between Spartacus' legs and touched his wrist, caressing his wound with the wet cloth.

"I do know that it is a test which should not be looked forward to."

"Do you think that we will pass?"

She froze. She had seen many tests and most often did not like the outcome.

She whispered, "I cannot lie. Fighting the gladiators of this ludus is not a simple task. I have seen many men fall in the attempt."

"Spartacus has already defeated four men in the arena."

She licked her lips and tried to push away the heat that was travelling through her body as she continued to touch his arm.

"I was told of such by Ashur this day. He seemed to be impressed by your skill."

She looked up at him as they locked eyes. She felt as if he was able to see through her and into her soul. His gaze penetrated her before she looked down and caught her breath.

She let go of his wrist for a moment as she pushed the bowl away from her body, pulling out the dry cloth from in between her breasts. She had not meant this movement to be sexual but couldn't help but notice both Spartacus' and Varro's eyes traveling to her chest.

She reached out once more and carefully slid the cloth around Spartacus' wrist, careful not to tie it too tightly.

"I feel that some men will fall during the test. But I pray that you two will not be one of them."

She stared into the sunrise as she wrapped her arms around her form. She closed her eyes for a moment as she imagined being able to live beyond these walls. What it would be like if she were no longer confined by her Dominus and to experience this sunrise from a place other than inside the ludus.

"Do you make a habit of standing so close to the ledge?"

She was surprised at the sight of Spartacus by her side.

"I try my best not to. For the fall would be too much to bare, I'm afraid."

He gave no response as he looked over the edge.

"I have never been to a ludus before."

"This is not the kind of place that people desire to be."

"Why are you here?"

"I am a slave."

"Were you born in this ludus?"

"No. I used to live beyond this walls. But such freedom was taken from me."

"As was mine."

Her heart dropped as she heard the sound of Crixus behind her.

"Should you not be with Medicus?"

She turned around and looked at him. "My apologies, Crixus. I will leave."

She was felt a shock tumble through her body as Spartacus touched her arm. She watched as he moved his lips to say something but saw that no words came out.

Without saying a word she felt that an understanding had passed between them. Both were confined to live life in the ludus without a moment's thought from their master.

"Ariana."

She sighed and forced her gaze away from Spartacus. "Crixus."

She brushed passed him and glided towards the entrance of the building, not wanting to leave Spartacus behind.