If you're joining me from my regularly scheduled fandom, OMG HI! And I promise to update my stories soon. This is just something I'm having fun with on the side. Since I LOVE this character and this fandom! Go watch Spartacus: Vengeance on Starz, it's amazing.
If you're from the Spartacus fandom, then this story will be updated in pieces as filling into the Second season of the series, starting in episode two, A Place in this World, where Spartacus and the rebels have raided the villa and assembled all the slaves in the courtyard. So however the series goes, it'll follow. And I'll stay in canon and timeline with that. There's no rhyme or reason to where I end the "chapters" so they won't follow the episodes, just where I think they feel right. This is my interpretation of the character of Nasir.
Hope you enjoy!
I don't own Spartacus. No copyright infringement intended.
The collar, the one that had been around his neck since he was a child, in some fashion, the one that was browned by years of sweat in service to another, was pulled off his neck. And that he swayed with it, that the tearing of it required some strength, was not a metaphor lost upon him.
Tiberius stared up into the light eyes of the rebel Thracian, Spartacus he had said when Dominus questioned, with fire burning. Words fell swiftly from the mouths of those around Tiberius, for the name was known to all among the villa. A villain. A rebel. A slave. Though the man towering in front of him was a slave no longer, in word and deed. And it was the latter that lit the fire in Tiberius's eyes.
Was he to be the new Dominus now? Certainly he behaved as such. His words spewed of freedoms and choices, yet as they dragged Tiberius from inside the villa, the one that had been his only home, shoved him toward attending in the courtyard and demanded audience, words did little to alter actions.
Sword was placed in his hands absent choice. Was he believed such a fool that he would step forward and renounce the rebellion, surrounded by the very slaves who slaughtered all those opposed to their cause, blood still glistening on pointed blades?
As his hand flew to his neck, he felt the weight of his Dominus's collar still. As he looked up at the man who he knew, without question, would rob him of his life if he defied cause he felt the weight of his Dominus's collar still.
"Now, who would have blood?" Spartacus demanded, passion scouring his words, his eyes, his motivation. And it was the weight of his Dominus's collar still that caused the silent answer in Tiberius.
He would have blood.
Thanks for reading!