![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small}
lobeliaDrained was how Uriel felt as he left the sunlit arena behind him and entered the dark corridors where the other gladiators waited for their chance in the spotlight. Some of them greeted him with encouragement, but everything went through one ear and out the other. The archangel wasn't listening, not to them.
Samyaza was dead by his hand. Would Father even forgive him for that? These circumstances had been forced on them, but they'd had the opportunity to forfeit, even if it meant death by another. At least they wouldn't be facing each other. Now his brother was dead, and it didn't matter if death was temporary or not.
He nearly walked right past Barachiel on his way to a place where he could pray in silence.
For a moment, Barachiel hesitated. But, of all the archangels, this was his realm - to face people's sins, in all their horrifying glory, and in spite of them reach out and forgive. To spread God's love and forgiveness, to let all His creations know that all was not lost, would never be lost, for everything was possible through Him and in Him.
So, without any regard at all for the blood and sweat that coated his brother's skin, Barachiel reached out and drew Uriel into a brotherly hug. "It wasn't your fault," he said into Uriel's ear. "He sees and forgives."
In his dazed stupor, Uriel only recognized his brother when he spoke, the voice shaking him from his thoughts of Samyaza's bleeding form. He rested his hand on Barachiel's upper back.
"I know," he murmured, hoping with all that remained of his might that he meant it, too.
Barachiel withdrew, an arm still remaining around his brother. His heart bled for Uriel, even as he realized he would soon be facing the same fate.
But this was their burden to carry. They had to persist even under the machinations of this false goddess and her cohorts. Their comfort would be found in shared prayer, matching pairs of skinned knees and trembling fists.
His will be done.
[Things had been tense on Hathor's part, and though she knew of nervousness, this certainly took the cake. Horus as a gladiator. Horus fighting Anubis, Horus killing Anubis. Sadness was not unknown to her, and behind a curtain, she admitted to shedding a few tears that were quickly wiped away.
A visit to Horus after his battle was all she needed to recharge. She'd wrapped her arms around him, peppered him with kisses and held him for as long as he needed to be held. He needed her as much as she needed him, that much was certain.]
[Having to fight his own brother -- how cruel were they really? And as gladiators, there was no telling what winning or losing would mean. Death hung everywhere he looked. He could read the fear in other men's eyes. Agravaine didn't fear death like most men, having faced it once before. What he did fear was having to take Gawain's life.
Geb was the first to go, taken down by Gawain as he stood there idly, feeling entirely stupid. But when it came down to the two of them, they both held back, not wanting to harm the other. It was a ridiculous dance, and once Agravaine had had enough, he met Gawain's eyes and flung his sword down at the ground. If their fight wasn't enough to guarantee freedom, he was going to cut some throats.
No matter the grudges he held, he wasn't going to kill his brother. No one was going to force him to do that, as long as he could help it.]
![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/community.gif){kind=small}