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Where is Nasir?
Agron rushed towards Spartacus, wild eyes scanning the rebels for a familiar head of raven hair. Nasir, I must find Nasir! When he found none that stood gifted as such he turned frantic eyes to meet those of their rebel leader. Words passed between them that spoke of the betrayals that saw the city overrun.
Report delivered and his duty satisfied, Agron asked the question burning within him, his voice alight with desperation, “Where is Nasir?”
Spartacus’ response seem to take an eternity though it blessed him with a direction; towards the northern gate.
“I must find him.” He replied, part vow and part plead to any Gods that might yet care.
Agron sprinted off in the given direction. Many Romans blocked his path though they posed as a thing of little consequence, the screaming urgency in his veins seeing them to quickly fall beneath his blade.
There! He spied Nasir’s form, partly hidden behind a Roman shit. His lover’s spear revealed itself to his sight as it emerged through a red cloak accompanied by a spray of blood.
Nasir stumbled back against the wall after delivering the cunt to deserved place upon the gore soaked ground. Agron surged forward, faulting over Romans so fast that his feet barely touched the ground.
“Nasir!” Agron called out, the blessed name falling from his lips. Nasir turned, his warm eyes seeking Agron’s desperately before softening in relief and echoing his name back to him.
Skimming the slippery wall behind Nasir with one long arm, Agron scooped Nasir close to him. Nasir’s pained hiss blew past his ear, causing Agron to jerk back, quick eyes scanning Nasir’s body. It was then that he saw the hand Nasir was clutching to his front, the long fingers overrun with rivulets of red. The top of a slash wound, too long to be fully covered by Nasir’s hand, spoke of the nature of the injury.
A spike of fear surged through Agron, stealing the breath from his words, “You are hurt.”
Nasir shook his head, pressing his forehead against Agron’s for a moment to make him heed his words, “It is but a scratch.”
Nasir pulled back, a soft smile taking over his face as he looked upon his beloved. Though they had recently quarreled and all had not yet been resolved Agron’s actions spoke of the affection he still held for him. This man that stood as Jupiter himself held more love with him than Venus could ever conceive.
A flash of movement behind Agron caught Nasir’s eye, breaking him away from his thoughts. His smile transformed itself into a fierce snarl as Nasir shoved Agron aside with all his strength.
Agron’s world tilted jarringly as he tripped over the bodies of the Romans that lay thick in the alleyway, the unexpectedness of the push leaving him no chance to hold his balance. He scrambled around as fast as he was able to see a blade meant for him disappear in beloved flesh.
Nasir swiftly returned the favor by sheathing his spear into the shit’s neck. The Roman reared back to undo the mortal wound, the spray of blood that followed him the Gods’ answer. When the Roman moved back his sword was revealed once more, a strange and impossible alchemy having turned the steel to gore.
The ground beneath Agron’s feet lurched from stone to sand as present and memory merged into one another. This could not be happening, not again.
Scrambling forward on all fours, he caught Nasir as he sagged against the wall, disbelieve beating a steady drum in his skull.
Beloved eyes opened at the sound of his mad scramble and Nasir broke words intended to soothe, “Apologies. I posed distraction and nearly saw you gone from this world because of it.”
Agron shook his head as he pressed his large hands over the new wound, its earlier cousin truly reduced to the scratch Nasir claimed it to be. The heat that flowed from it seemed to burn his hands that had grown cold with panic. Nasir arched at the pain his touch caused, his head snapping back against the wall as he choked off a scream.
When the pain no longer forced his eyes shut he placed his hand against Agron’s cheek, desperate to meet Agron’s gaze. Having captured it Nasir spoke urgently, “I need you to know that I did not break trust with you.”
Agron shook his head roughly, “None of that matters now.”
A bloody hand covered his own as Nasir said firmly, “It does matter. Nothing matters more.” Nasir searched Agron’s eyes, hoping to see the acceptance of Nasir’s words reflected therein, “You gave my heart the strength to beat. Without you it would only lay as a dead thing within chest.”
Agron inhaled deeply, pressing his face against Nasir’s. “Speak not of dead things,” he begged.
A red tinged smile greeted him as Agron pulled back. “As you wish,” Nasir replied before growing serious once again. “Apologies for letting flowery words flatter ego. Their scent proved to be most foul as they led you to part from me.”
The memory of Castus’ white teeth, gleaming like that of a wolf in the night, rose unbiddenly in Agron’s mind.
“I will never be parted from you.” Agron vowed.
Nasir casted a doubtful look down at his body, held together only by loving hands, before nodding softly, unwilling to cause Agron any more distress.
The world turned white for a moment as Agron slipped his arm across his shoulder and dragged him upright.
“We must make haste and be gone from here before more come.”
Nasir panted his assent, he would not have Agron die here for him. He strengthened his feeble hold on his spear as his determination surged.
No Romans crossed their path as they stumbled their way out of the alleyway. As they made to turn the sound of pounding feet gave them pause, Agron pushing Nasir behind him. Nasir swayed like a reed in the current but hissed fiercely. He may soon be for the river Styx but he would not let it claim him now and leave Agron undefended.
Lugo and Donar rounded the corner, the former barely avoiding a deathly blow dealt by Agron’s hand.
“Easy brother!” Lugo called out with a laugh. Donar skillfully danced aside to avoid collision with the man as he came to a sudden halt.
“Apologies. You made enough sound to equate that of ten Roman shits.” Agron jested as he moved to reclaim his place at Nasir’s side.
Lugo guffawed at this before turning his attention to the little man. His kind eyes turned sad as he took in Nasir’s state, his war hammer landing with a wet thump on a Roman laying underfoot, his mighty shoulders slumping.
Agron swallowed as he shifted his gaze beyond that of his countryman, “We need passage out of this shit-stained city.”
Donar spoke solemnly, “And we will provide aid in endeavor.” He placed a kind hand on Nasir shoulder. Nasir inclined his head in gratitude.
They made for the city gate with haste, leaving Spartacus to his confrontation with Caesar and another Roman of his make.
The urgency to depart the city satisfied, Nasir grew more and more limp in Agron’s hold. Agron paused but a moment to scoop his love up into his arms and place him across his broad shoulders. A soft groan met his ear as he felt warmth begin to mix steadily with the sweat moistening his chest and back.
Spartacus, Crixus and Gannicus ran ahead but Agron held no thought of joining them. Instead he whispered sweet words in all the tongues in which he found meaning between straining breaths. In response he felt Nasir’s lips press fluttery kisses to any skin he could reach.
The ice and wind made the journey arduous but Agron would gladly carry this burden for the rest of his life. It was only loving hands and voice that made him come to a stop.
Agron paused, Donar and Lugo drawing to a halt beside him, as Agron listened to Nasir’s breathless words pleading to be let down.
Panting, Agron argued, “Hold but a moment more, Nasir. We must follow.”
Agron could feel the shaking of Nasir’s head, silky hairs dragging against his skin. Agron quickly did as he was bid, eager to retake to the path that would see Nasir to proper care. Nasir slid lifelessly off of his shoulders to find his place upon Agron’s lap.
Nasir had grown distressingly pale, his warm eyes glazed with an unearthly fog.
“We cannot rest here.” Agron said again, speaking the words against Nasir’s neck to remove the sight, so similar to one he gazed upon as he came to aid Spartacus on passage to Vesuvius.
Whispered words met his ear, “And yet I cannot follow.”
Agron shook his head in denial, “Then I will shoulder the weight.” He brought his head up, seeing the return of many of the rebellion, settling around them. Some unknown horror had sent them back this way. “But we must make haste and find the medicus.” He could hear the sound of someone breaking away from them, Lugo or Donar set to the task.
Nasir pulled weakly at the fastening of Agron’s cloak. He licked his lips, drawing the taste of metal into his mouth as he spoke the words he had practiced in secret, “Ich liebe dich.”
Agron gaze snapped back to Nasir at the sound of his kin’s tongue coming from his lover’s lips.
Nasir smiled at Agron’s dumbfounded look. “I had Lugo teach me.” He explained.
Agron laughed wetly, eyes still wide with hunger for more words to tumble forth. “Lugo, that simple fuck?”
A breath warmed with laughter puffed past Nasir’s lips. “Saxa also offered her services but I feared I would learn only how to raise blood for fighting or fucking.”
“Noble causes both.” Agron said, adoration lighting up his face. He placed a hand on the side of Nasir’s face, gently thumbing his cheekbone before resting the digit upon Nasir’s much loved lower lip.
Nasir hummed in agreement, vibrations thrumming through the sensitive pad of his thumb, as his eyes slipped shut. Agron tightened his hold, pressing down more firmly on Nasir’s wounded torso. Warm eyes flickered open once again-- too slowly.
Panic brought a sour taste to Agron’s mouth. He would not have Nasir’s eyes close like that again. He resolved to keep him talking until the medicus arrived. “For what purpose did you seek to learn my sprache?”
Pale lips curved upwards. “To prepare for our journey north to the lands east of the Rhine after Rome falls.”
Agron was stunned by Nasir’s devotion to remain by his side. He had never considered there might be a life for him other than that of blood and battle.
Nasir’s eyes regained that eerie fog as his brow furrowed and his body jerked with pain. Agron held him through it, clasping so tightly he would surely bruise beloved flesh.
Nasir pale visage was broken up by the forming of two twin rivers dripping from the corners of his mouth. They slithered across his face to drip into the mess of his dark hair.
Nasir eyes cleared and filled with emotions so sharp Agron cowardly wished to look away. Desperation tinged Nasir’s voice as he begged, “Promise me you will live to see those lands again.”
Agron shook his head in denial, “You will live and see them yourself.” Nasir groaned, a sound Agron had often drawn from the man with his stubborn ways.
Nasir weakly pulled at Agron’s arm, Agron willingly leaning forward to better hear his heart. Words borne of the lands of endless forests and wild rivers met his ear. Nasir spoke of his love for him, his hopes for Agron’s happiness and his deepest regrets.
Agron sat so entranced that even Wodan wouldn’t have been able to move him.
Nasir only ceased as the pain mounted, his eyes clenching shut once again.
Once-- twice more Agron could coax his eyes to open again with loving words and touch before Nasir grew still.
Though his eyes remained open it felt like some greater door was falling shut than that of weary eyelids.
“Nasir!” Agron called. Nasir eyes fixed slowly on Agron’s, regaining that bright light that warmed Agron with its glow. His elation was short lived as Nasir’s eyes slowly grew dull. Agron felt a coldness the like he had never felt before overcome him as the last bit of warmth fell away from this world.
Agron eyes remained fixed on Nasir’s even when they drifted aimlessly and did not again right their course as Agron’s jostled him.
The chest underneath Agron’s hand no longer rose, the blood from his wounds growing still.
“No, no, no, no!” Agron screamed, shaking Nasir harder. But Nasir did not respond, his body flopping limply in the snow. A blood curdling wail broke free from Agron, his whole body shaking with pain.
This could not be happening. Not to Nasir—loving, bright, fierce Nasir. Agron’s chin trembled as he dragged his fingers over his beloved’s face. He gently pushed a wayward curl behind a delicate ear.
“I am here Nasir, my heart.” Agron sobbed, tears dripping from his face to land on his pale form. “Please take me back into your arms.” Another sob escaped him as Nasir remained motionless.
Agron bowed his head, pressing his trembling lips against Nasir’s slack mouth. “I was a fool to ever leave them.” A wail broke free again as he rocked back and forth with his precious load.
A voice sounded through his anguish, “Agron, Spartacus has need—”
Agron turned to see Crixus standing frozen with Naevia by his side. Agron sobbed, “I cannot leave him.” He turned back towards his charge. “He needs me, I cannot leave him.”
He heard Naevia gasp as she sank down next to Nasir, gently picking up Nasir’s hand from where it had slipped into the snow.
A firm grip squeezed Agron’s shoulder as Crixus shakily spoke, “He is gone, brother. He no longer has need for anything.”
Agron snarled at this, shaking off the fucking Gaul’s touch to bow his body protectively over Nasir.
Time passed but Agron had no concept of how much or little. It did not matter. All he was aware of was the feeling of Nasir within his arms. Agron pulled his cloak around them both, attempting to warm his love with kisses and the press of his body. Despite his efforts Nasir remained stubbornly cool. Agron smiled at this, whispering “Fucking Syrians,” fondly into his ear.
Words were spoken around him but they held no meaning. When Agron next looked up a tent had taken shape around them. He whispered of this development to Nasir.
An unknowable amount of time later another person was shoved into the tent only to land hard beside them. Agron snarled as he pulled Nasir closer to him and turned to look who disturbed them. Sprawled awkwardly lay a familiar dark skinned Cicillian.
Agron throat ached with the force of his growl as he attempted to shield Nasir from his leering eyes.
“Look upon Castus, one of the Cicillian shits who betrayed us.” Gannicus said as he hunched down beside Agron. Agron could not recall him entering. “Take your revenge for stealing breath from beloved breast.”
“Nasir?” Castus asked, scrambling forward on his bound hands and feet.
Gannicus growled in a manner befitting of any German warrior as he pulled Castus toward Agron and Nasir. “That’s right.” He shoved Castus closer still as the man tried to rear back in horror. “See what you have brought forth.”
Castus shook his head, his many ornaments jangling as he moaned softly. His gaze was fixed on those enchanting eyes that had moved him in ways he had never thought possible, now grown empty. His gaze next fell on that sweet mouth, which had once brought forth thoughts of nectar, now heavily stained with blood.
His voice became waterlogged as he spoke, “I did not know of Heracleo’s intend. I would have done all to protect Nasir of this fate.”
Agron looked at Castus with wild eyes, blind to the pain twisting the pirate’s face. “Nasir is not yours to protect,” he snarled.
Castus felt his face twist up with vicious intend to express just how deeply Agron had failed at his task. He would have never let Nasir fall. At the thought of Nasir Castus felt his burning words simmer and then extinguish. Nasir would have never wanted him to hurt this lumbering oaf.
A deep ache set upon his chest in remembrance of Nasir’s bottomless kindness.
“A fact well known to me.” Castus agreed with a leaden tongue. He looked into Agron’s crazed eyes as he spoke his deepest wish, “Would that I had been you, for but a day.” His gaze was drawn back to Nasir’s face, beautiful even in death.
Castus’ eyes closed as he bowed his head in submission. “Do what you wish with me. There is no light left to guide me to proper purpose.” He was sinking at sea in the dead of night, no way of knowing which way was up.
Agron tucked Nasir’s face back into his neck. The world blurred again until he woke to an empty tent, Nasir sleeping peacefully in his arms.
The wind howled nearby, invisible fingers plucking at their shelter. Agron planted kisses across Nasir’s face, hoping to rouse his love. No response came forth so he decided to let Nasir rest a while longer. He hummed a forgotten lullaby, combing back dark hair with soothing fingers. A voice joined him, as familiar to him as his own.
Agron smiled, his mind made up. It was time that they took to the path to the lands east of the Rhine. Agron would carry Nasir until he woke. With care to not offend Nasir’s pride, Agron hid Nasir from sight underneath his cloak.
The wind tore at this meager protection as they stepped outside. The space between tents stood empty, shapes drawn on cloth by the fires lit within them.
The cold whisked away all feeling from Agron’s arms, only the weight of his love make them yet real. Time passed in a blur of snow, ice and wind. The camp had long dropped from sight as Agron stumbled, coming down awkwardly as he turned to catch the brunt of the impact on his side. Nasir curled sweetly into him, his laugh caught in the air. Agron could feel his cheeks dimpling as he smiled at the sound.
He ducked his head to look inside his cloak at the sight of Nasir beaming up at him, his eyes alight with love. Agron pulls his cloak tighter around them both, eyes slowly sinking shut in contentment.
They would rest here a while.
Spartacus rose with aching bones, the cold having stolen into his tent at night. He wearily made his way to his makeshift table, glancing at the map that lay on top of it.
They had suffered many losses and the night had surely taken more of their number. Spartacus rubbed a hand roughly over his face. They needed to leave this place before nothing of their rebellion would remain but figures of ice. The weather had proven itself as deadly as Medusa’s stare.
The sound of lumbering feet broke him from his musings, his eyes greeting the sight of two of his generals. Their faces read of heavy emotion and Spartacus immediately grasped the pommel of his sword.
“Romans? Do they press their charge?”
Gannicus shook his head. “No, the Romans yet remain in position.”
Spartacus frowned, “Then give reason for your presence or fall from it.”
Gannicus and Crixus looked at each other, a silent conversation passing between them before Crixus broke words, “It is Agron.”
Spartacus’ grip grew slack, the report that he was given of Nasir’s passing still reeling in his ears. Agron was surely mad with grief, devotion such as theirs a rarity upon this wretched world.
Spartacus braced himself for words detailing Agron’s ensuing rampage.
Crixus shifted slightly before clearing his throat. “He is dead.”
Spartacus took a stunned step back, “Dead? How—”
Gannicus spoke next, “He carried Nasir’s body out into the storm. He succumbed to the harsh climate.” Gannicus swallowed thickly, “Scouts came upon them early this morning. We brought their bodies back to camp.”
Spartacus moved blindly through the huddles of tents, following his generals’ lead. They came to the tent they had built around Agron only a day prior. Gannicus and Crixus disappeared behind the flaps of ratty fabric and Spartacus stood alone for a moment. Steeling himself, he pushed forward.
The light inside the tent was warm, torches kept dutifully lit. Gannicus and CrIxus partially blocked a form from view. Spartacus could see a familiar sandal fastened upon a strong leg.
He came closer, unintentionally holding his breath. He first saw Nasir dark hair, ladened with crystals. It looked for a moment like he had been bejeweled with riches rather than ice. A large hand could be spied from between the tresses, holding Nasir’s head close. They lay facing each other, Spartacus realized, in a lovers’ embrace.
Spartacus lifted his gaze beyond Nasir and saw Agron. His eyes were closed and his mouth was curved in a soft smile. The peaceful expression cruelly revealed him to be the boy he was. His skin had stained blue and purple, eyelashes covered in white.
Spartacus quietly breathed his denial, sinking beside the lovers. The senselessness of it made him ache.
“Why would he do this?” He gently laid his hand on Nasir’s shoulder, looking more deeply at Agron’s peaceful visage. “Losing Nasir was a terrible loss but this--” he tightened his grip reflexively, the cloak beneath his touch shattering.
Crixus spoke, “He could not lose his heart.”
Spartacus snarled, face wet with grief. “He had done it before. When Duro fell.” He rose slowly. “We have all done it.” He could see Sura’s form reflected in that of Nasir, the dark hair lengthening in his mind’s eye for but a moment.
Gannicus placed a heavy arm around Spartacus’ shoulders, “He could not do it again.”
They stood there for a time, the air thick with memory and chances lost. Two lovers slept an endless sleep beneath their watch, never to be parted.