Disclaimer: I do not own Gladiator only the OC.

Summary: This is in my OC's POV. And if your wondering the OC is the eldest child of Maximus, who was brought into slavery by Commodus.

Rose petals rained down into the Coliseum as Commodus and Maximus entered the arena. The Emperor was basking in the cheers and shouts of his people. The gladiator, on the other hand, seemed to be in a daze, although no one knew that the reason he was holding his side was to try to stem the flow of the blood that was underneath his armor.

The wind picked up slightly, causing a few tendrils of dark curls to come free from my braid and blow into my face. I brushed them aside with a swift, near unconscious movement as I watched the fight unfold before me. The crowds around me became livid as they did the same, their raised voices mixing together until they sounded like a battle cry at war.

Steal clashed with steal, armor chipped. Flesh was slashed, seeping through the wounds like water bursting forth from behind a bridge. The fight seemed to never end. Each time Commodus would strike at Maximus the man would block it with his own swing of his sword. He would stagger whenever he did so, however; a result of the blood that he had lost from the sound he had received before the battle even began. I could see Maximus' steps becoming unsteady again as Commodus

The guards that surrounded the opponents stood silent as they watched the display of hate that their Emperor had of the Spaniard General.

Bodies moved in sync with the swords, trying to let the other gain a hit. Maximus managed to trip Commodus, although the other man didn't remain where he had fallen.

The men appeared to be tiring as more blood was shed. After that felt like an eternity, Maximus managed to disarm Commodus of his sword. The crowd came alive again with an excited cry at what their beloved Spaniard had done to the Emperor that they loathed.

I could see the way that Maximus' steps had become unsteady again, however, Commodus shouted out for his guard for a sword. When it wasn't given, he began to command the other soldiers to unsheathe theirs for him instead. Panic came onto his face as no one stepped forward to present a blade for him to use.

I turned my gaze towards Maximus, who looked as if he was in his own world, opening a door to the freedom he so desired. But then Commodus distracted my eyes as he reached for something hidden in his sleeve. He had hidden a dagger in his sleeve, just like the snake he was, prepared to strike at Maximus while the other man's back was turned. It was one of the highest forms of cowardice that I could think of—to attack while a person's back was turned.

Maximus moved, however, before the strike could land. His hand shot out to grab the arm that held the dagger. Then he forced it back towards his opponent, despite how Commodus struggled, until it was embedded in his neck.

The lifeless body of the Emperor fell to the ground with blood spilling out around the dagger still embedded in his neck. Maximus had won but he could not live through his victory. He fell to his knees after asking for freedom to be given to his men. He was back in the trance that he had been in before where he had been in a world of his own, opening that door.

Sand mixed with blood covered by still falling rose petals as they carried Maximus' body off to give him the proper burial that he deserved, leaving the body of the Emperor behind to rot. He was still despised even in his death.

I looked up towards the sky that had been so dark before to see the light that had filled it and smiled.

Maximus had died but it had not been for a lost reason. He died for his freedom and for that of others.

At last he was free. Now we are free.