“My brother has no wife or child!”
That exclamation by Duro gave Agron pause. He watched his younger brother square up to the man named Champion of the arena and felt a surge of something envelop his heart. He had never exactly spoken word to Duro of his preference for men, but the brothers were so in tune with one another it was no surprise that the younger had known.
The other gladiators muttered of children and pups and it occurred to Agron that they only thought of immaturity and not having found woman enough to marry and have children with. Duro’s eyes flickered to meet with his however and Agron fucking knew, his brother had always been his best friend and such small gesture as that meeting of eyes informed him that there was good reason.
Duro knew him. All of him.
He would save Duro from this fate.
When he pulled the sword from broken body and wept harsh tears onto ashen skin, screaming pure agony never felt before into air thick with cold unfeeling emptiness… his heart shattered beyond recognition.
And now he would never share pure joy of unashamed brotherly love again. The other gladiators thought him a child, a pup who could not even find himself a woman for it was subject of rumour that Agron’s experience was limited. It stung that the only man that understood was bleeding cold blood onto his hands.
“Apologies.” Was his final murmur before he let body slip from hands, intent on murdering every last fucking Roman cunt who got in his way.
Duro knew him. And they had taken that away. He needed vengeance, but also absolution for his failure to be an older brother.
He did not expect to survive the fight.