Gannicus heard her moan and turned, seeing her fall. A rage akin to nothing he had felt in many years exploded within him.

"Sibyl!" His voice was gruff with anger and emotion.

He watched, helpless as Heracleo hoisted her up, holding sword to her neck. She was conscious. She was alive.

"So you do care for the little one huh?"

In moment, he realised his words were true. He cared. The pirate saw realisation as well.

"But it is a pity now that you have killed her."

"No!" Feelings assaulted senses and clouded judgement, making it impossible for him to think clearly.

He was too far; he could do naught but watch as blade caressed her throat. Their gazes collided and he saw his own fear mirrored in hers. His chest constricted and he made vow to tear the fucking pirate limb from fucking limb before he sent him to the afterlife.

But this wish the gods would not grant. A hot poker smashed through the pirate's throat, the weapon wielded by the Roman woman, Laeta. He stood frozen in astonished relief as the smell of scorched flesh filled the workshop.

The three occupants who yet drew breath stood in stunned silence, each grappling with realisation of what had happened.

His eyes eventually found her, legs carrying him as fast as they were able. She heaved sighs of panicked distress and he pulled her into his arms, his own panic only settling when he felt her arms circle his shoulders, wrapping tightly. Relief hit him as hard as harsh winter rains.

He drew back, cupping her face. He noticed the blood dripping from her mouth and again felt fury simmer. Fucking pirate. But Heracleo was dead and she stood alive.

"You are hurt," he said, unable to mask his anger. Sibyl shook her head and he knew she made attempt to calm him.

"We must move quickly," he was reluctant, but had to let her go. "Before we are discovered." He knelt beside Heracleo's corpse, relieving him of cloak and Crassus's seal.

Sibyl moved to the door, checking whether any soldiers drew near. "What of Laeta?" she called.

"What of her?"

"We cannot leave her."

"She stands Roman," he reasoned. "She cannot be seen with us."

"I stand nothing but a slave," Laeta said and he looked to her. She had tears upon her face, misery etched upon her. "As you once did."

Upon her arm he saw her brand. She had killed the pirate with the poker he had used upon her. Fuck the gods. He looked to Sibyl, her eyes pleading. Dread settled in the pit of his stomach. He could make argument, but he knew it was futile.

She had once made silent request that he intervene. Upon that occasion he had turned from her and her silent appeal. He could not do it again.

He sighed, resigned. He knew he could not leave the woman.

He donned Heracleo's cloak and lifted errant rope from the floor. He tied first Laeta, then Sibyl's wrists, binding both women to him.

"Keep your heads down. You are my slaves. Do not speak, to not lift gaze towards any, move quickly." He spoke for Laeta's benefit, the woman unfamiliar with protocols taught to all slaves. She nodded.

He met Sibyl's gaze and she gifted him with a small smile of encouragement. His lips did not return it, but he hoped his eyes did. "Let us move."

They walked but a small distance when the cheers of a crowd were heard not far from their position.

"They hold celebrations?" Gannicus asked.

"Executions," Laeta clarified. "Those among you yet of this world."

The injustice of Roman cruelty reared its head and he felt bitterness swallow him. "I would have bloodied their names upon a day."

"Stay to the alleys and lesser streets as I guide and perhaps live to see it so."

He snorted.

"Gannicus," Sibyl pleaded. He looked to her, her gaze calming chaotic storm inside of him. He nodded, knowing time for vengeance would come soon enough.

"We will not make it," Laeta despaired. Despite being allowed to move without question, progress stood painfully slow. Moving with too great a purpose would arouse suspicion, so measured pace was required. His body stood as tense as a bow's string, moving so closely within the sphere of one's enemy.

Gannicus saw horses tied to the outside of a villa. "Can you ride?" he asked Laeta. There were two horses. Sibyl would ride with him.

"I have seen it done," she answered with caution.

"Stay close." He looked to Sibyl before turning to Laeta. "We will not turn back for you."

They walked with purpose towards the horses, each step promising freedom. The animals were within reach when a small group of soldiers came upon path.

Sibyl knew Gannicus forced self to relax fists and move, absent word, absent action. Tension rolled off him as mist oft did upon morning shore. With each step, she sent prayers to the heavens. They attempted the impossible. And yet the gods provided opportunity that seemed to put it within reach.

Her lashes fluttered up quickly and caught sight of the Roman who stood within path. Immediately she lowered gaze. His eyes were upon her. Caesar!

"You there!" the Roman called. "I thought Heracleo allowed but one woman. Where did he come by this one?" He motioned towards her and she kept her eyes lowered. They had been forced to stop, their progress halted. Ahead the horses yet stood; a symbol of freedom.

She knew Gannicus would fight seconds before his command came for her to "Go!"

His hand briefly touched her back as he propelled for forward and behind him. Already his swords were raised, hood removed. He would have his vengeance.

Laeta ran with Sibyl, moving quickly and untying the steeds from their post. She had never sat astride a horse before, but she would prove self a fast student if she would be free of this fucking city and painful memories it now housed. She did not know for which purpose the gods yet offered salvation, but she would grasp it with both hands.

She saw Sibyl yet stood beside the other steed.

"Get on the horse!" she cried.

"Not without Gannicus! I would not leave him behind!" She knew immediately that Sibyl would fall with him, but would not flee without him.

Laeta turned and watched as the Celt fought Caesar, wounding him. It gave opportunity for him to reach them. Her relief was palpable. With his skill, they had hope of escaping with lives in tact.

She knew he held neither affection nor loyalty toward her, but he had offered aid at Sibyl's request. Despite that, she stood unequivocally grateful.

Gannicus ran towards the horse, leaping into the saddle and lifting Sibyl behind him. He spurred the animal into motion, drawing her hands around his waist, urging her to hold on tightly. If the gods were open to prayers, he would have them listen. They now made final attempt upon the impossible.

Blood spattered and screams filled the night as Roman soldiers fell to his blade. A feminine cry filled night air and momentarily he reared back, heart in throat, afraid it belonged to Sibyl. It did not. Laeta had been speared by a soldier who he swiftly beheaded and sent crashing into the afterlife. With is aid, Laeta managed turn upon path towards the ridge.

When he reached the gate, he turned back one final time, gazing upon Caesar, a condescending smile upon his face. The Roman looked a violent sight at being thwarted. Ripping Crassus's seal from his neck, he threw it to the floor as sign of disrespect. Caesar's eyes blazed with hatred and he welcomed it, his own hatred burning brighter than the fucking sun.

He turned his horse, placing a hand upon Sibyl's to reassure self that she stood absent harm or injury. Without a backward glance, he raced after Laeta.

Thank the gods. They had done the impossible.

They rode hard for a long while before Laeta's horse slowed. The woman was slumped over her horse, bleeding profusely. Sibyl squeezed his midsection to gain attention.

"I would tend to her wound." He hesitated and she whispered close to his ear. "Please." He could not deny her.

He slowed his own horse beside Laeta's and gathered the reigns. When he dismounted, he reached for Sibyl, lifting her from the saddle. Despite desperate circumstance, it felt right to have her within the circle of his arms, even for just a moment. A reminder that they were both alive. Her hands came to rest on his arms and their eyes met. He would not deny his yearning. He pulled her into his arms and hugged her close. She buried her head in his chest, he tucking his own in her shoulder, stooping slightly to get as close to her as possible.

A breathless laugh escaped her. "I cannot believe what we have achieved."

He moved to look at her and chuckle died in his throat. Gaze dropped to her lips and he felt his heart rate increase.

Laeta's moan broke spell. She was almost delirious and needed attention. With nothing to provide cover, he lay her upon the ground while Sibyl attempted to dress her wound. They were absent any supplies; only thing she could do was close wound with a strip of cloth.

The wind began to howl, blowing cold air and bringing frigid temperatures. Sibyl shivered as she fussed over Laeta.

"You are cold." It was hard for her to disagree when teeth began to rattle.

He shrugged out of Heracleo's cloak and draped it across her shoulders. Her eyes met his and he was absurdly embarrassed by gallant gesture.

"I could ride with her." Sibyl offered, drawing the cloak close. "She is weak and might fall from horse."

"No," was all he offered as he raised Laeta and secured her back upon the saddle. She slumped forward slightly, but offered him a wan smile.

"Gannic-"

He turned back to her. "We might yet be hunted by Caesar. If any are to follow, I would have you with me, where I might offer some measure of protection."

"Gratitude." He was in danger of losing himself in her soft eyes.

"The gods truly favour you."

"Perhaps," he conceded, allowing for the possibility. "Yet now they present new challenge through snow coupled with icy winds."

Around them snow began to fall. He could not stop himself. He drew the hood around her head and tucked her hair beneath it. He felt her eyes upon him, but he did not look at her. He dared not.

He hoisted self back into the saddle and stretched his hand out to her. Absent effort he lifted her into position behind him.

"Press close and hold tight."

They rode throughout the night, path dark but well marked. Snow had ceased to fall soon after they set out, leaving horses to follow a relatively defined trail.

Sibyl waded in and out of sleep, slumping against the rhythmic sway of his back. He held the reigns firmly but wrapped his arms around his midsection, over her hands which already held tightly, to conserve heat. The temperature dropped even further the closer they skirted the mountain. She felt the tremors shake his body and hugged him closer, offering of her own body to help warm his.

At some point during the night, she placed her lips lightly to the space between his shoulder blades before pressing her cheek where her lips had just been. May the Gods protect them.

"Sibyl."

She was roused when he called her name. Absent energy, bones aching, she lifted head. Immediately the side of her face that had rested against his back felt full burn of frigid air.

Ahead she spotted the glow of fire in the dark as dawns light began to spread. Gannicus again called her name, his hand automatically gripping hers. She squeezed in response, their fingers numb.

"I see them," she whispered in return, laying her head down upon his back, too tired to offer further response.

"Thank the Gods," she heard him whisper and her heart smiled.

Finally, he believed.

THE END

A/N: Not Alone carries this tale to completion. It was written first, so there might be some inconsistencies, etc. Apologies for that.

I have a few small Gannibyl related projects simmering in the back of my brain. I am willing to take prompts if anyone has a storyline/one-shot they would like explored. I'm more inclined to do one-shots. It will take less time. But lets see. Feel free to connect with me on tumblr (sweetrupturedlight), PM me here or on twitter: miss_naazneen and pitch your Gannibyl ideas!

I promise I don't bite :D

Thank you for all the reviews!