He had been a Gladiator for a mere week, taken from where he lived and forced to fight, but in every fight he noticed one individual; from fervent questions he discovered their gentleness was something the civilians adored and those in power abused.

Oftentimes he’d meet your eyes after winning a fight and throw his sword up for you.

Just you; the sibling to the sadistic emperors.

Lucius wants nothing to do with the image of Rome. He wants nothing to do with it other than to tear it apart initially. There’s a wonderful clarity to him; He’s unafraid of the establishment in a way that makes him dangerous to the establishment.

Lucius was smart, he had a plan, such plan entailed using you and so he snuck through halls, weaved swiftly through socialites and found his way beside you discretely. “We must talk” He insisted, his voice low, gravelly even, intense.