Author's Note - The prompt for this story was "Gladiator" with a limit of 2000 characters. I ran into a bit of trouble because 'Word' told me the story was less than 2000 but when I pasted it on the Challenge, it came up as several hundred over the limit. This version is the slightly longer one. The shorter one is on the Challenge.
In 342, a law was passed in Rome prohibiting same sex marriages and all those who had married same sex partners previously, were put to death.
Gladiator
Lucius pulled his cloak fast around his body, covering the loin cloth he would wear for the games. He took his husband by the shoulders and kissed him.
"I promise you this will be the last time."
"I wish you didn't have to go," murmured Titus, his eyes worried.
"I know, but we need the money. If I win today, the prize money will cover our debts and we can start fresh."
"I can't help worrying about you, Lucius."
"It's these Christians that worry me, Titus. Not only do they want to ban the games but they want to limit all marriages to those between a man and a woman. If that becomes law, I fear what will follow."
Another hard kiss, and Lucius strode out the door.
When he reached the arena an hour later, a rival was eager to tell him the news.
"Constantius has approved the new law. Same sex marriage has been prohibited and all those so married are to be executed." He smiled.
Titus! Lucius felt the blow to heart as if someone had struck him. He had to go home, perhaps there was still time for them to run, leave the city.
As he turned to go, Lucius saw Castor come towards him. Castor was in charge of the slave gladiators, those who, unlike Lucius, who was a volunteer, had no choice whether to fight or not.
"I can't stay!" Lucius told him, his heart racing with fear. "I have to go home."
Castor gripped his arm, his face stony. "It's too late. The orders have already gone out."
Lucius refused to believe it. Not Titus. He tried to pull away, "I have-"
"You don't understand. You are under sentence of death. The only reason you are still alive is that you're scheduled to fight today."
Lucius looked around at the circle of grim faces surrounding him and knew there was no escape.
He fought like a madman. Everything had shrunk to a tiny circle, the hot sand under his feet, the eyes of his opponent, the dart of the spear, flash of the sword. All he wanted was to die a warrior's death, but the gods were playing with him. On the day he wanted to die, he kept winning.
He had killed three men but he was tiring. He slipped, feeling the sword slice through his hamstring. He welcomed the pain. Thank god, it would soon be over.
The roar of the crowd buzzed in his ears.
Why was his opponent hesitating? For Mars' sake, finish it!
Lucius opened his eyes. The crowd was on its feet, giving the thumbs down signal, shouting, "Spare him!"
The irony was too bitter. His eyes filled with tears and he wished he could die.