Philinda Forever - One Shots

Roman Gladiator AU

   I am so sorry, y'all. I really tried to write the sequel to the "Phil Coulson is Captain America now," chapter, but When I went to write, It came out as crap. I couldn't spin my ideas into words, and I think it wouldn't do it justice. So here I am, writing some other crap that ended up as this.

   This chapter is heavily inspired by an Ao3 fanfic that I read once. I've recently turned to a lot of AUs because of the lack of inspiration from the canon.

   Note: This chapter is entirely meant to distract AnayaForever from her homework, lol.

   I am taking liberties here. I know that most of this will not be historically accurate, even though I love studying Ancient Rome. Please bear with me. Its a drabble. I tried to make the names more Roman in a funny way?  Also, they're like in their twenties here.

    -nightsisterkaris

   --------- -:x:- ---------

   House slave Phillipis walked down the corridor of the house of Gladiators. The last room on the right, he had been told, That's where you will meet your new mistress. 

   Rapping the door with his knuckles, Phillipis bowed his head as the door was opened. He didn't look up, just simply made his purpose known by holding the pitcher higher before he entered. The woman -yes, a woman- was beautifully tanned, like the even clay on a potter's wheel. Her hair was the color of the dark tiles in the Forum, and he only saw a flash of her face before lowering his head again.

   "I am here to assist you." Phillipis was waiting. He knew what eventually happened to most slaves that were sent to the Gladiator house. Most were never seen again, killed in a frenzy after a blood-crazed gladiator returned from the ring triumphant. But it seemed that his new Mistress was different.

   Her short tunic was spattered with blood, and gashes ran down her bare arms. A knife was at her waist, shoved into its sheath without having been cleaned first. He took the dare to look up. Her eyes were ebony, but reflective like the wells in the courtyard. She was strikingly beautiful. And young.

   "Qiaolian." He gasps.

   She jerks her head up. He never should have opened his mouth. Never should have spoken. "Yes?"

   "You're the new champion." His mouth betrays him again.

   "Yes." She is calm, unlike the men who would be mad with the bloodbath earlier.

   "I am here to assist you." Phillipis watches her sit on the bench, waiting. Approaching her, he lifts the cloth from the cool water and dips it, running it over her surprisingly smooth skin, removing the caked red crumbles.

   "What is your name?" She asks, staring forward, over him.

   "Phillipis Coulsinum." he replies.

   "Qiaolian Mae." She adds. "And I am not to be taken lightly."

   "Of course, Qiaolian." He nods, reaching up to clean the cut on her shoulder. She doesn't even flinch. "Favor me." He says, letting the cloth glide over her clavicle. The cool water rolls down her skin, making the white linen even more transparent. It's more of a woman than he has ever seen besides the statues of the goddesses in the streets.

   "I care not about the prize." Qiaolian tells him. 

   "It is still good that you won." He reminds her. "Or you would be dead." He knows that out of twenty fighters, only one will walk out alive.