#the inherent eroticism of scars is just *chefs kiss* perfect

[uniquevocashark]

Gladiator Alcina AU

The first night you had met Alcina, properly met her rather than watching from the stands, was a cold and bitter autumn evening. She was even taller in person, though you hadn’t let your eyes roam very far when your father introduced her. Her name was a strange one, though you liked how it felt on your tongue, and she had a cold and callous air about her.

She hadn’t said anything that night, nor did you try to start up a conversation with her, though she watched you with an intensity that made you heat.

You watched her fight the next day.

Your parents were proud of how much interest you showed in their investment, and you listened to your father rattle on about the many victories she had won. They called her a true Amazon, taller than any man and submitting only to those who could best her. Becoming her editor was a favour from Mercury, from the way your father described it, though you thought she was more a gift from Venus.

They didn’t quite understand what you were getting at when you watched her though. They saw your admiration and warned you sternly off even thinking about becoming a gladiatrix yourself. That didn’t stop them from putting Alcina in your room as protection though. You never did catch the reason why, not when you had found a long and clean scar tracing down one of her biceps.

“It’s from a sword,” Alcina had told you one night, sitting beside your bed as you traced a finger over it again and again, “My second fight. There were three suppositicius before the bout ended, and the second one got me before I beat her.”

You had not stopped staring at her, nor had she stopped looking at you, “That must have been terrifying.”

“It was.” She replied, her accent affecting the words thickly. She leaned forward and you did too.

“And this one?” You asked softly, tracing a scar up her cheek with your lips.

She shivered beneath you, but her voice was strong, “That was done by a lion. It collapsed on me after I killed it.”

She leaned into you and closed her eyes, letting you kiss her eyelid. The bedframe creaked under her clenched hand and her other hand came to hold your neck.

“Tell me to stop if you aren’t comfortable.” You murmured and fell on top of her.

Her eyes lidded, her perfect pink lips parting softly, pliant underneath you, “I will.” she swore and said no more.