ARISTOS ACHAION // Awesamdude X Reader

22

You trained with Sam until his duties as the warden called him away again (much too soon for your liking, but with a new influx of prisoners you supposed there was nothing to be done about it), just using one of the spears from the weaponry hanging around the room as a replacement for the moment. You had tossed around the idea of trying a different weapon, maybe something that would give you an edge over Ceres, but Sam had brought up a good point - it would take more energy to learn something new than to hone the skills you had already learned, and you wanted to spend the most time training as you could before you got into the ring with the champion of champions.

Training wasn't quite the same though.

Sure, Sam was willing to keep helping you now after the conversation you had had, but the energy had shifted. He seemed more focused on preparing you for the ring (not that there had ever been another goal, really, but...) - almost clinical in his teaching now, none of the usual small smiles or sarcastic banter that you usually shared. It felt less like you were part of a team now.

You couldn't help but wonder if you had ruined it.

Had you been thinking selfishly when you reacted the way you had? Sam had only meant that he was concerned, not that he was withdrawing his support entirely (though that's what you had taken it as in the moment). And sure, you had reached a mutual understanding now, but who was to say that things would go back to how they had been? You would be loathe to lose him - in a strange sort of way, he had become your only friend in this hellish underground.

That fact sat heavy on your mind as you ate alone in the dining hall, trying not to pay attention to the panicked whispers of the group of new prisoners sitting next to you.

It seemed the influx of people had changed the eating arrangements - the usual quiet of the champions lunch was now filled with noise as prisoners squabbled over food. It was just another testament to how crowded the city was - even the prime fighters in the ring could no longer have their peace.

Though, you supposed there was something to be said for lunchtime amusement - watching the new prisoners gawk at the champions was almost enough to keep your mind off of Sam.

Almost.

He had done nothing but help you, and you had snapped at him. Sure, you had almost just died and the adrenaline was still pumping through you (and, admittedly, the subtext of his concerns had hurt a bit, that he didn't think you would make it through), but it was no excuse for how you had directed your anger at him. You hadn't lost him completely (thank the gods above), but there was a thin layer of ice over your relationship now.

You weren't quite sure how to get rid of it.

Your gaze drifted away from where you had been absently staring out over the tables back to the champions, eyes catching on Ceres' broad shoulders. There was a storm behind their mirrored eyes today - no doubt because of the seating arrangements - but that wasn't really what you cared about. Soon enough, you would be getting into the ring with them, and only one of you would be coming out.

You were fairly certain that Sam thought it would be Ceres - his comments after your fight with Prosperine still fresh in your mind.

Looking at Ceres now was not the first time dying had crossed your mind - it had been the only thing you'd thought about for the first few days you had been in the colosseum. You had looked forward to it then, thinking that there was no hope for someone like you to even have a fighting chance.

You weren't so sure how you felt about it now.

Lost in thought, you barely noticed Ceres' moving until they were standing up, turning around to grab at the neck of the man who had been sitting at the table behind them, hoisting him into the air. Around the room, the guards snapped to attention, though it was clear they had no idea what to do. If it came to violence, Ceres would win.

"Wailing about your imminent doom isn't going to help you survive." Ceres growled, clenching their fist around the man's neck and snapping it. The man went limp, and Ceres let go of the body, sending it tumbling to the ground in a heap. A woman that had been sitting with him screamed.

One of the guards stepped forward, hand on the hilt of his broadsword. "Ceres-"

Ceres raised their hands in surrender, sitting back down. "I was doing him a favor." They said. "The wretch was in tears about it all - could barely breathe 'cause he was blubbering so much." Their mirrored eyes flicked up to the guard. "What's it matter anyway? One of us was just going to kill him in the end."

The guard hesitated, glancing back to his comrades. For a moment, it was quiet, but then he just sighed, removing his hand from the hilt of his sword and instead gesturing for someone to grab the body that now lay on the floor, neck bent at an awkward angle.

Ceres just laughed, shaking their head. "We're all going to die down here." They said, swirling their fork once more through their food before pushing the bowl away across the table. The bowl tipped over, splattering the meal onto the wood. "Every last one of us, one way or another."

You watched as Ceres stood up from the table with the other champions and stalked out of the dining hall, leaving the door swinging behind them. None of the guards even tried to stop them as they went.

You turned back to your own meal, the urge to eat suddenly gone.