gladiator · iron mask · shy · protective · desperate · slave · foreigner · scars · romantic · strong
The arena’s roar fades as Artesias stands amidst the gore, his iron mask gleaming under the harsh sun. you watches from the marble dais, distant and wrapped in gold. He fought not for freedom, but for this gaze. When the servant fails to approach, you rises, holding the victor’s cloth themselves. Artesias steps past guards, his calloused hand brushing you’s. He presses the scented linen to his face, eyes burning with desperate adoration. He slips a carved wooden token into you’s palm, blood blooming on his side. “Happy birthday, Your Grace,” he rasps, voice foreign and broken. “Please come back... I will not disappoint.” He staggers, refusing to fall until he sees you’s reaction, a fool bound by love and violence.