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Summary: When heart desires to be united with its other half, what can Agron do? Listen to it and give the little man a chance.

"You should be in bed at this late hour."

Agron startled from his hiding spot, where he was trying to muster the courage to make attempt on the little Syrian man. He whirled around, staring with a frown at the girl who disrupted his stalking.

"You as well, Naevia," he commented a little too sarcastically.

"I am in search of water. If you wish to break words with Nasir, you can go to him under the pretext of checking his wound." She offered him a small smile. "Everyone has seen how fond of you he is."

Agron restrained from saying that Nasir broke their promise on not telling Crixus of Naevia being alive, but they wouldn't be sharing this conversation if it happened otherwise. She wouldn't try telling him the obvious—the boy seemed to be interested in Agron, just as much as Agron was into him.

"Has he told you something?" the German inquired, walking closer to the girl.

Still not quite secure in being around another man, even though rationally she knew he'd never hurt her, Naevia took a few steps back until her shoulders met the wall. Agron immediately stopped, realizing he was making her uncomfortable.

"Has he?" he insisted, keeping his eyes on hers.

"Not exactly. It's clear in the way he looks upon you."

Agron wanted to believe her. He wanted to believe Nasir liked his company better than other's, and that there was a ray of hope for something trespassing between them. He wanted to taste the Syrian's lips again and feel their warmth and softness under his own.

"You speak the truth?"

"Why would I lie?" Naevia asked, slightly wounded. "Do as I say," she spoke softly, touching his forearm tentatively. "Pay him a visit. He wouldn't send you away."

Agron's heart seemed to beat faster at the thought of Nasir wanting him around. He covered her hand on his arm. "Gratitude."

Naevia smiled up at him, but before she could add another word, her man appeared from around the corner. Crixus stopped in his tracks, more in surprise of seeing his woman conversing with the German, before he strode to her side and wrapped a protective arm around her.

"Is he troubling you?" Crixus demanded, turning his eyes to Agron and glaring. "Have you lost sense?"

"He wasn't troubling me. He has his own troubles to attempt causing anyone trouble," Naevia explained soothingly to Crixus.

"His own trouble?" Crixus's eyebrows rose high as he snorted. "Share knowledge. What information on the enemy do you have?"

"It doesn't have to do with the Romans. Let us find water and return to bed," she urged her man, but he was unmoving. His eyes set on Agron, who seemed to be at a loss of words.

"Listen to her. My problems are nothing of your interest," Agron finally said. Without another word, he walked away, toward the entrance of the temple for some fresh air to clear his thoughts.

He wasn't sure what caused him fear in attempting to break words with the little man, but every time Agron found himself in the Syrian's presence, all thoughts melted away and a pull stronger than he ever felt drew him closer to the boy. It didn't make sense, and he was determined to understand the meaning of his behavior.

With one last look at the bright stars shimmering in the dark night's sky, Agron went back inside the temple with Nasir's chamber as his destination. This time no one interrupted him. He didn't knock on the door, considering he was allowed everywhere, being Spartacus's second in command.

The sight that greeted him was a very surprising one.

The Syrian was sitting up on his make-shift bed, struggling to tie a clean wrap around his waist. One of his hands pressed against his wound, and the other was pulling at one end of the wrap, the other being held by his teeth.

"Need assistance?" Agron asked.

Nasir jumped, startled, his head turning toward the door. "No."

"Do not be stubborn. Accept my help." He walked closer and knelt next to Nasir. "Can I?" Agron motioned toward the white bandage.

"You know what to do?"

The German smirked as he started dressing the Syrian's wound. "I, myself, had quite a few wounds, so I know what to do. If you'd rather have someone else help, speak."

"The hour is late. I'll take your help."

As Agron worked to wrap the bandage around the smaller man's waist, he couldn't help but grimace at how ugly the healing wound looked. It would leave one nasty scar on the olive skinned man.

"Does it hurt?" he asked after he was done playing medicus.

Nasir looked away, unsure if speaking the truth would get him in trouble. He still didn't know what to make of the German's friendship. Of what he'd experienced in his life, everyone was after something when they got close to someone.

"Give words of truth," Agron demanded, voicing Nasir's thoughts.

"It only bothers me when I move."

Sadness was clearly visible on Agron's face as he palmed the Syrian's cheek. "You need rest, little man. Lie back on the bed."

"Do no call me little man!" Nasir hissed, glaring at his companion.

"Apologies." Agron stood up and grabbed the wine carafe, pouring some in two cups. "Here. You will feel better."

"You offer wine as apology?"

"I offer wine and company. Do you accept it?"

"To what end?" Nasir questioned, a frown on his face. "What is your purpose?"

Agron was taken by surprise at the boy's questions. "What purpose?" He repeated incredulously.

A light blush rushed to Nasir's face. "Apologies. I am still adjusting to freedom," he said hurriedly.

"Freedom means speaking your mind and not being worried of punishment. Freedom means choosing your friends and enemies. Freedom means telling me to fuck off if you have no desire of my company."

Driven by Agron's words, Nasir found courage to voice his thoughts. "Listening to Spartacus's orders is freedom? What difference does it make from a Dominus?"

"You have the option not to listen to him." Agron grinned big. "As I did when I chose not to follow his plan in going to the mines."

"And there's no other option. Being on his side or killed by the Romans." Nasir let out a small chuckle.

"That's true. I must confess I am glad we spared your life when you made attempt on Spartacus's life."

"It was foolish of me."

"It is in the past." Agron waved a hand around, sitting down next to the Syrian. He drank from his wine. "Drink. You need to get better. I will see to your training."

"Gratitude." Nasir nodded. "Offer is much appreciated."

"Offer stands. I see talent of a great warrior in you, Nasir."

A shy smile appeared on the Syrian's face. "I never have worked a sword before, but I hope with practice I'll get to be half as good as you."

"We are not born with sword in hand. Skill is gained in battle. You will need strategy, not only eagerness to learn how to kill. You must know how to defend yourself first," Agron explained. "My brother was too single-minded to prove he was as good as the more experienced gladiators. He died saving my life."

He hadn't admitted that last part to anyone, not even himself. The mere thought of Duro giving his life only to save Agron's made him insanely mad, and angry at himself. He should have been the one protecting his little brother.

"Apologies," Nasir murmured, placing his cup aside and turning to face his companion. "If you wish to break words about your brother, my ears are open. I know how is to grieve a brother and not be able to share that with anyone."

"What of yours? You know anything of him?"

Nasir shook his head. "It is better this way."

Agron stared at the little man, realizing what a strong character he was, and that Spartacus had been the first to see that in him. He was thankful this man's life had been spared and he had the chance to break words with this smart person.

When the Syrian yawned loudly, Agron immediately felt awful for keeping a healing man from sleep. "Your offer is appreciated, and with the first chance we get, I might open up about Duro. It will be difficult, but I'm ready to talk about it."

"You speak as if you're ready to depart."

"You're healing, Nasir." Agron stood and gathered the cups, walking them to the table. "You need rest."

He was at the door when a small, warm hand covered his shoulder. "Don't leave just yet."

The German turned to look at the man who was rapidly becoming his friend. "I wouldn't intrude on your healing time." He cringed as the words left his mouth. It sounded foolish.

"If you don't mind…" Nasir pierced him with his honest black eyes. "I could use the company. I haven't slept alone before. There has always been someone in the room."

Agron smiled slowly. "I can keep you company. Of course. Back to bed, now. Don't strain yourself."

"I thought Spartacus was the one commanding."

"If you haven't noticed…I usually take the lead, and am pretty good at whatever I'm doing."

A bashful smile appeared on Nasir's face. He'd noticed. Agron with a sword in hand was a sight that filled him with joy and made his breath catch. He was sure he looked like a fool when he tried to handle the sword, but now he was going to have a great teacher.

"I'm just going to get my blanket," Agron said, turning to the door once again.

"I have enough to part from one. Uh, Naevia offered me three to keep me warm."

Agron nodded, accepting the tattered blanket. As he looked around for a spot to mark as his own for the night, Nasir grabbed his wrist and led him to the bed.

"Please, we can share. If you aren't comfortable, I will take the floor."

"Don't be foolish. I'd be happy to share if it is something you want." Agron felt his heart doubling in speed at the prospect of sharing a bed with the little man.

"I offered," Nasir reminded him.

Once they settled on the bed, facing each other, an awkward blanket settled over them. Agron wasn't sure where to place his hands, and Nasir tried not to stare at Agron's lips, so close to him.

When the Syrian mustered the courage to speak of their rapidly growing friendship, Agron managed to ruin the moment by saying something off topic.

"You seem to have grown close to Naevia. She is in need of a friend to forget the horror that happened to her," he said quietly, fixating his eyes on the white bandage around Nasir's waist. "Be mindful—Crixus is her man."

"I know," Nasir said, bewildered. "Why are you warning?"

"He might feel threatened."

"Naevia is only my friend. She even blamed herself for my wound until I broke words to her and settled it was no one's fault."

Agron nodded, seeing the sincerity in Nasir's words. Maybe Naevia was right indeed, and the little man shared his feelings. But when he finally dragged his eyes upon the Syrian's face, he found his lids closed.

Tomorrow was a new day. We shall discuss this further then.

Positive his friend was asleep, Agron brushed the back of his hand over Nasir's cheek. He closed his eyes, not seeing the smile that formed on Nasir's face.

*O*

The sound of voices and feet milling on the other side of the door woke Agron from his slumber. Somehow, during the night, Nasir had snuggled into his arms and was currently resting his cheek on Agron's shoulder, one arm thrown over him.

With a little difficulty, the German extracted himself from the hug and immediately felt the loss of being in the little man's warm embrace. After one lingering look at the sleeping Syrian, Agron let himself out of the room.

He'd wished no one knew just yet of the close friendship he was developing with Nasir, but the gods decided otherwise when they brought Spartacus in front of him, making Agron run into him.

"Watch path," Spartacus reproached lightly, his eyes on the door behind Agron. "How is he feeling?"

"He's healing." It was the truth.

"Good. I want everyone trained as fast as possible. Bring him to the front yard. I want to break words with everyone."

Agron wanted to protest and say something about Nasir needing rest, but for once, he held his tongue and simply nodded before slipping back into Nasir's room. To his surprise, the Syrian was waking up. His right hand patted around the bed as if searching for something.

Smiling, Agron knelt at the side of the bed and touched Nasir's head. "I'm here. I bear good news."

"Have all the Romans vanished from the world?" he asked in a voice thick with sleep.

Chuckling lightly, Agron shook his head, though Nasir couldn't see the gesture. If only he knew he was the first one to truly make him laugh after his brother's loss.

"Sadly, the gods did not grant us that wish. Your wish is coming true, though."

"My wish?" The Syrian turned his head to the side and opened his eyes, penetrating Agron's soul.

"If you are able, we can start your training today. Spartacus wants to break words with everyone."

"Let us join them!" Nasir said excitedly. He couldn't wait to hold the sword again and finally learn how to use it.

The rest of the morning was filled with Spartacus's speech and a few instructions on strategies when it came to fighting. When it was announced there was food time, everyone scattered away. All but Nasir, who picked a sword and seemed to weigh it in his hand.

"You need nourishment so you can handle the sword," a voice said from behind him. The hair on his arms rose at the sound of Agron's voice and feeling him so close. "After, you can show me what you know."

Nasir was filled with joy at the prospect of spending more time with Agron, but he was worried of making a fool of himself in front of the most skilled man.

Over their meal, Agron opened up with stories of his life on the farm at the East of Rhine, speaking of his brother with a smile on his face.

"I have never known anything besides life at the villa. I was among the respected ones, being body slave for Dominus."

"You were still restricted from doing what you desired."

"I desired nothing more than I had. Dominus took very good care of me," Nasir retorted. Deep down inside his heart, he knew taking his Dominus's side was not the best choice, but in comparison with other slaves at the villa, he had had a good life. "Mind can't conceive satisfaction of growing goats."

Agron burst in laughter. "Do not think I spent my whole time amongst the caprinae. Duro and I were often gone from home, finding ourselves in trouble."

"Information not surprising." Nasir smiled slowly.

"What of you?" Agron asked, really curious. "What does a body slave do during the day?"

"Answer is obvious." A light blush covered Nasir's face. "I was always by Dominus's side."

"Soon, I hope you will realize how pleasant freedom is." The German stood. "If you are finished and absolutely positive your wound will not hurt, sparring awaits us."

The Syrian eagerly followed the taller man to the sand. They grabbed practice swords and shields before taking position.

"Attack me." Agron motioned toward him with his arms.

Nasir had learned a few tricks from when Spartacus had sparred with him at the villa he once called home, and did not go for the obvious action. He circled Agron, and when he was behind the German, he jumped on his back, placing sword at his neck.

Agron tried not to laugh at the little man's strategy, but considering his small stature, he had to be inventive in his attacks. It was not difficult for him to shake the Syrian off, before pinning him to the ground, the tip of his sword at the man's throat.

"You have clever strategy, but needs more practice." He offered his hand.

"If you were Roman, you would be absent head."

"Parting man from head is a difficult task. But that is not what we do here; we are teaching you how to defend yourself."

"And kill the enemy," Nasir said vehemently.

"Not all fights are about killing. Sometimes injury is enough to win over the enemy."

"A fatal injury, as the one I received."

Agron sighed loudly, placing a hand upon Nasir's shoulder. "You may not always have shield to protect, but if you use clever strategy, you may win. You do not lack in that. I have seen you fight." Squeezing his shoulder, he dropped his hand. "Again." Agron tapped his sword to the shield.

This time, Nasir charged, using his shield to stop Agron's sword coming at him. With force he did not know he possessed, Nasir barred yet another attack from the German, even managing to part him from sword. Finding that to his advantage, he hit Agron's side with his sword. All too soon, he found his arm twisted and the tip of his sword pointing under his chin.

An angry growl left the Syrian's chest as he let his sword and shield clatter to the sand and he stalked away. He could not even outsmart the German in a practice game. No wonder he had been wounded when he decided to defend Naevia in the woods.

Agron decided to teach Nasir a lesson on turning his back on the enemy. He picked the sword from the ground, and in a few long strides, was caught up with the short man. One hand grabbed the boy's arm, and the other placed sword at his neck. "Never turn back upon enemy. Unless you want to be struck from behind."

"Skill in battle is absent from me."

"I was absent skill when I joined Batiatus's ludus, but with training and much blood shed, I became a gladiator. To gain such skill, you must never give up."

Nasir nodded, finally turning to face Agron. "Apologies for wasting your time."

Agron cupped the Syrian's chin and tilted his head so he could see him better. "Never say that. I offered to train you, and I will see it done. You can be a great warrior if you lose your fears and preconceived idea of not being able to handle sword." A small smile appeared on Nasir's face, making Agron smile back. "Let us continue your training, little man."

A sneer formed on Nasir's face, and he pushed the German with all his might. "Do not call me little man!" With a hiss, his fists started flying. Agron repelled each attack with his forearms, using his legs to twist around, gaining the upper hand and pinning Nasir to the ground.

"Do not let anger and insults rule your actions." He helped the little man up. "Now attack me, and use brain as you do so."

The next few attempts were more calculated, and Agron was pleased to see what a fast learner Nasir was. He trained not to exhaust the man, choosing only easy ways to attack and protect self.

"It is a wonder you are still of this world if you use such strategy in battle," Crixus said from the top of the steps. "Allow someone of more skill to train the boy."

"Fucking Gaul," Agron muttered, blocking Nasir's latest attack with his shield. "One reason it's called training! This is not the fucking arena!"

"I remember Doctore training us the very way we were to fight in the arena," Crixus commented, descending with sword in hand. He pushed the German out of his way. "Let me show you how it's done," he told Nasir.

The Syrian shot Agron a worried look, as if checking if it was wise to engage the Gaul in a duel, but all too soon, he found himself on the sand. He grabbed his side where his wound throbbed in pain.

"He is healing, you stupid fuck!" Agron yelled, charging at Crixus with his fists held high.

"Stop defending him and let him defend himself!"

"He has had enough training for one day!" With one hard shove at the Gaul, Agron went to Nasir, helping him up. "Are you hurt?" he asked softly, touching his cheek.

"I wish to train more. In battle, I will not have time to whine over my wounds."

"There might be a chance for the Syrian boy after all," Crixus said amused.

"You need rest, Nasir. You do not want wound to open," Agron told him gently. Placing his arm around the little man's shoulders, he steered him inside the villa. "If you wish to spar with someone, take Naevia. She is eager to learn how to fight, too," he said over his shoulder.

"You share grunge with the man," Nasir acknowledged.

The German snorted, leading them to Nasir's quarters. "You need wound attended to." It was the truth. The white bandage was pink with fresh blood. "I shall fetch the medicus."

"No." Nasir took Agron's hand. "I can change my own bandage. I am not a small child."

"Then accept my help."

Taking the old bandage off, Agron could not help but stare at Nasir's scar. It was a long line over his ribs, oozing fresh blood from bottom of the cut. Deciding it needed washing to avoid infection, Agron immediately set to work. He pointed to the bed and gave the Syrian a stern look, telling him not to move until he returned to clean his wound.

The German fetched a basin filled with water, some rags, and a special ointment from the medicus, before he found his way back to Nasir. The little man was on the bed in the same position, staring at his hands.

"What thought troubles mind?" Agron asked gently, sitting next to his friend. "Does the wound bother you?"

"Assistance in training is greatly appreciated. Concern lies with how I should repay you."

"You knowing how to defend yourself and slay Romans, remaining standing in their wake, is everything I want."

Nasir glanced up, confused. "Not repaying favors is still new to me. Freedom is much complicated than slavery."

Agron couldn't help but chuckle as he brought the wet cloth to Nasir's side to wipe the fresh blood. "Freedom is all about surviving, while slavery is about merely living and respecting rules. Even if freedom means dying for this cause—to liberate all slaves—I will die happy even tomorrow knowing I saved a life."

"You speak words of truth. It might take time for me to grasp the full meaning of freedom, but I am forever grateful for Spartacus setting me free, and for you in showing me the right path of embracing this freedom."

Moved by the words, Agron cupped Nasir's cheek and gazed deeply into the Syrian's eyes. "It was my choice to help you. I saw something in you, saw beyond that warrior that lies in you, Nasir. You are a kind and strong soul." He leaned closer, pressing their foreheads together. "You are passionate in all you do."

Nasir's dark eyes widened at the closeness and the way his heart took off. He was the first to move, softly pressing his lips against Agron's. It was a tentative kiss, unsure if the other accepted gesture. In the past, it might have been another way to say goodbye, but this time, he would know for sure if their friendship might blossom into something more.

Agron groaned low in throat, entangling fingers in the little man's black hair, pressing his mouth tighter against Nasir's. Caring for the healing wound was a thought long forgotten. At the forefront of the German's mind was to undress Nasir and lay with him.

The gentle caresses made the little man forget about his worries, and allowed him to embrace the feeling his friend created inside him. He had never felt anything like this, even though he used to be body slave for his Dominus. His pleasure was none of the man's concern, as long as he got his. Nasir knew with Agron it would be different.

"You must tell me if anything I do causes you pain," Agron told him, running his fingertips over the Syrian's side. "I'll stop the second you tell me."

"I do not want you to stop. This feels so good."

"Cock hardens at your words."

"Feeling is shared." Almost shyly, Nasir took Agron's hand and guided it to his subligaria, where the shape of his hardening dick was visible. "I desired you since I laid eyes upon body. Thought of gladiator sharing bed never crossed mind."

"Gladiator would be honored to share bed with you." Agron kissed Nasir again, this time tasting the boy's mouth and slowly pushing him back on the bed. "Finding completion with you this night will be greatly satisfying if you accept."

"I want nothing more," the Syrian breathed out. He helped Agron out of his clothes before ridding himself of his own. "Preparation is needed for furthering this action. My old Dominus used oil."

Agron was aware of what he needed when laying with a man. He had known for years, since he realized women held little interest to him. Duro had been all too happy to have all the women rejected by his brother.

"Roll on unharmed side," he instructed the little man. With care in his touch, he prepared Nasir for what was to come. When he was certain he would not hurt the boy, Agron put away the oil he used to ease the ass muscles and lay behind Nasir. One hand rested on his hips, while the other guided his cock in ass. It had been too long for him, probably since before he was captured by the Roman shits.

Nasir hissed, throwing his head back, resting it on Agron's shoulder. The move gave him access to mouth. Slowly, Agron inched inside the Syrian, gritting his teeth in concentration not to spill seed at the tightness engulfing him. Once he was in all the way, he took a moment to simply hold his lover and kiss him passionately, before experimentally moving his hips.

The new sensation caused both to moan loudly, uncaring of who might hear them.

Agron held Nasir close to him as he swayed his hips slowly, drawing their pleasure. The first to explode with a small shout was Nasir, when Agron wrapped his hand around aching cock. The German followed soon, spilling his seed deep inside his boy's body.

They did not move from the bed until late into the evening. There was another feast and everyone was inebriated, singing, drinking, and fucking everywhere when they emerged from Nasir's quarters.

Naevia caught Agron's eye and smiled widely. He returned the smile, wrapping his arm around Nasir's shoulders. He finally understood why Spartacus, and even Crixus, the fucking Gaul, had gone to such lengths to be reunited with their women. Agron could not conceive the thought of something harming Nasir. It would probably kill him if his lover was taken away.

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