Hola chicos!

This was from a prompt over at Blood and Sand Fanfiction community of Live Journal. The Flash Fic Prompt-A-Thon. bloodandsandfic (.) livejournal (.) com/27139 (.) html

The prompt was submitted by selonbrody and said this: Naevia & Pietros friendship, pre-SBS, Naevia lied when she said she knew him only in passing.

Here's where I went with this, post-Gods of the Area and pre-Blood and Sand, because I wanted there to be a reason Naevia lied, and wanted to keep it in maybe a canon timeline.

Hope you enjoy!

I don't own Spartacus. No copyright infringement intended.

Small Favors

The memory of Diona was always fresh in Naevia's mind, her heart gripping so in ache at the loss of her sister. And it was thus that her feet took to purpose as she made her way down the steps from the villa, near the cellar, into the ludus.

At the gate she spoke to the guard, Hector.

"Domina summons Oenomaus," she said as he looked up at her.

His eyes lingered in the unwelcomed caress of the lecherous man he was. Though he would not question the order, as Domina was known to have her summon gladiators often, Crixus usually, the suspicion was in his stare. Naevia dropped her gaze from his, as if to search the wine in stock to her left, until she heard his steps leave.

She would not have her own hesitance and anxious give way to truth; and most certainly not in the case of Hector's suspicions. If she were to be discovered, a risk she was well aware of and took conscious of mind, then it would be by anyone other than the grotesque guard. Grabbing a jar of wine, to keep to appearances and excuse, she looked back up through the bars.

As Oenomaus approached, question in his eyes, Naevia was reminded of Melitta. With the time she thought of Domina's previous body slave less and less. But upon seeing her husband, the pain still shadowing his eyes like the late nights of winter, she was reminded of the position she overtook and the woman who had previously held it.

Melitta was many things that Naevia strived to be, selfless being the one she held of most import. And yet again Naevia was set to purpose, her own gaze meeting that of the dark Doctore with resolve. The man tilted his head in query just as Hector opened the gate to allow Oenomaus passage.

Naevia bowed her head humbly, acknowledging the man with respect not simply because of title. "Doctore."

She quietly walked up the steps, jar in both hands, knowing that Oenomaus would follow suit. His large hand reached out, to still her movements when she turned down a corner, to a hall that headed back to slave quarters, and not in the direction he was made to believe was his intent.

"You've mistaken course," Oenomaus said, doubt eclipsing his voice. Her shoulders rounded as she turned to him in the unoccupied hall, looking up at the imposing man.

"I have." His stare darkened, but before he could question further, she explained. "But with purpose. I ask favor, and would do so without ears to carry whispers."


She chose to ignore the weight of his word, the ice in his tone, the answer set in his eyes. She chose to ignore the implications of being alone with such a man. She chose to ignore the situation she had placed upon them both with her actions.

She did what she must.

Her memories found purchase on the eve not but two nights past. The villa had been prepared for celebration, entertaining some passing Roman officials. Of whom Naevia wasn't certain. But who they were never mattered, what influence they held and the coin that their name carried was of greatest import to Domina. And the more important the latter two, the more serviceswere asked of those that serve.

Naevia was kept pure, at the explicit command of Domina, but not all shared that fate. And Naevia was reminded of what her eyes had beheld when one of the Romans set his sights on a newly acquired house slave, before she closed them: the slow fall of a subligaria, the smile of a face torn in pleasure, the purse of a face torn in pain, the light of candles reflected off of skin bathed in sweat.

The boy was young, younger than Naevia, dark of skin, and held the same innocence and curiosity in his eyes that spoke to her. It was the same Diona's once held. The same hers had. The same that was robbed from Diona, and in turn Naevia as well. And thus she shared a kinship with him; and she would not see the boy robbed of what little light he would have in a life of darkness.

But she was just a slave, and was offered little choice or option in the matter. She had once tried to assist Diona in escape, and even with plenty of coin, that mistake had been foolish. It cost her sister her life. She would not make the same again. And so she turned to the only other option she knew, remove the boy from temptation's eyes.

As she told Oenomaus what she could of the matter, sparing the boy his pride, she begged that he help her find purpose for him down below in the ludus, away from any harm.

"It is not of my will," he began, his tone softer than before, just as she cut him off.

"Please . . . Doctore, it was Melitta that spoke of your guidance when all was deemed lost. I seek such guidance now. I know not what else to do."

Slowly, he nodded. Whether it was in the memory of his wife or out of compassion for the boy's plight, Naevia cared not, simply that she saw action take motion with him.

"I will speak to Dominus about needing another hand to bear burden of simple tasks within the ludus, and request someone new, as to train them specifically. The rest shall lay in the hands of the Gods."

Naevia smiled, thanking him, to which he laid a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

As she led Oenomaus back toward the ludus, she would pray that the Gods hear her. She would hope that the young slave would turn thought away from his time in the villa, for she would never bring up topic. Best to be forgotten.

And she hoped, that in this case, she was able to save him from such a fate as that of Diona. That his light would not burn out but flourish and shine.

Thanks for reading!