#adsagsona

After their night spent indulging it Netflix comedy specials, Chinese cuisine and each other bodies, Gann somehow became Kit's 'breathing space' whenever things got a bit much. Not that she replied on him, or anyone, for that matter. But it was nice.....kind of, to have somewhere to go where she didn't have to pretend, one person she did not have to bullshit to. She'd go to the place he worked, usually near to the end of the night, take a seat right at the end of the bar and sip at a beer or a glass of wine, not being flirty, or fun, or fabulous.....just waiting until everyone else had left so they could chat and she could be real.

Yet all the time, she knew that eventually, she'd have to ask a question. And Kit was dreading it as Gann would have a reaction. Likely not a great one.

Despite being exhausted, sleep wasn't coming to her as easy as she had hoped. Every thought opened a proverbial box that led to more and more questions and worries. This had become their home and she was terrified that it may all just...disappear like this.

While she had tried not to wake Ross, she couldn't get comfortable either. It wasn't home, which didn't help any, and when he pulled her to him, she immediately felt bad for keeping him up. "I'm sorry I woke you," she murmured, sighed.

"I know it does. I just....am struggling." But, maybe if she just listened to his breathing, let herself relax as much as possible, sleep would grab hold for at least a few hours.

"Come on, the wine isn't that bad." she laughed as she watched Gannicus face turn into a sour one. "My good friend made this years ago."

The Witcher was defeated and in ways that had him immobile for a long time and when he was able to move there was barely any flexibility for him left to fight. Geralt was brought to a place where they helped him heal, but it was a slow process. A year had passed before Geralt could finally stand on his own, it took a lot longer before he could walk and be on the road again. Years passed by and when Geralt reached the point where he couldn't get much better, not there anyway. He took his horse and rode to the one spot he hoped someone was still waiting on him.

After many days of travel, Geralt stepped off his horse and with a serious limp, he headed towards the sea, sitting down on the sand and whispering out to the sea and hoping his lover was still there, that he'd never given up on him. "I'm retired now... Defeated... My body broken beyond full repair. It took a long time before it was healed enough for me to travel and I'm sorry... Jared... There was no way I could give you the news. I think many believe me to be dead..."

The men were training, gladiators and recruits. Kade observed them carefully. A part of him – only a part – envied them. Training to fight, to become stronger… If he could forget about the arena for a moment, he could remember how were his mentor’s lessons.

I am a feather in the eagle’s wing. A living dagger, plunged from the sky into the heart of chaos. I am a truth unknown, a scabbard unfilled, a son of the Nile, and a defender of the people. You cannot kill me, for I walk among the dead. Come forth by day, and I will guide you home.

He was repeating those words every day, once each morning, fearing to forget them if he ever skips them. A teaching he wouldn’t hear in this place where the gladiators fought for the glory, the rewards. “Wine and women” as they say, laughing. And nobody was laughing louder than Gannicus.

Kade looked at him, of course he knew his name. The favorite gladiator of House Batiatus. The man was a legend here. And he was fighting and fighting, two swords, no shield, like he always does. He was better than his opponent: stronger, faster, more agile… it was like watching a cat playing with his food.

Doctore gave an order, and Kade obeyed. He brought water in the courtyard; in a few seconds the men will be allowed a break.

Blood dripped down Liana's arm. Her skin burned as she ran through the forest, branches snapping back at her as she ran past creating more scratches along her skin, tearing more of the fabric of her dress. But she didn't stop. She needed to get away fast. She couldn't hear them anymore, but the beating of her heart against her ribs could have been drowning them out. She kept moving.

It wasn't until a couple of hours of running did she finally stop. Her dress torn to shreds. She pressed her back against the trunk of a bending tree, it's bark digging into her back as she slowly slid down it, pulling her knees to her chest. Her eyes darted around the forest around her. It wasn't until a branch snapped somewhere in the dark beyond the trees did she stand back up. "Please, I beg of you.' She dug her nails into the tree behind her. "Just don't-don't hurt me.'