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| April 2008 | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Nov 5 2009, 10:37 PM (3,976 Views) | |
| golden_trillium | Mar 14 2010, 03:30 PM Post #136 |
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Author: sabor ice Date: Thu Apr 10, 2008 2:13 am Cáel Cáel had never been much for traveling. He found it to be horrendously time consuming and bizarrely inconvenient. And yet he pressed on. He knew nothing of Gabe's former family except that their hair was all blonde, as if each strand had been bobbed from a ray of sunlight. He knew not what they looked like or how old they were, with only their names and the place the children had been born on the tip of his tongue. He made a treacherous and possibly dubious journey all for the sake of a single potential business investment. And yet he pressed on. There were two different men living from within Cáel. The first was cavalier at times, and able to masquerade his derangements with extreme merriment, cordiality, and general good will toward others. The second was a ghost of its former self, delving into odd moments of manic depression - moody, fey, quixotic. The first was for prominent public display only, while the second remained on reserve in favor of the inner-workings of a madman. He was always in a coherent state of mind; he had always weighed the pros and cons, the rewards and consequences, the rights and wrongs, just like any other person - and he had a conscience - but all of these things were now virtually insignificant to Cáel. Greed had possessed his mind long ago and he was too far gone to brave something as trivial as morality. Money - there was nothing more fulfilling nor sweeter. Oh, how it brightened his day to dote upon the idea of the money he might make at Badon, or if necessary, he would bring the women back home to Eburacum where they would be sure to fetch a daring price, provided they were all healthy, and preferably pretty, that was. Exotic would've been even better. Men liked to own exotic women, although it was no skin off Cáel's nose if they turned out to be all three feet tall with bellies like pigs and faces to match. Slaves didn't need to be pretty to be bought and put to hard labor. No, the state of Gabe's wife and children were not a concern, provided that that state was at least alive and kicking. "What's that then?" the Goth inquired of his silver and brown gelding, as Betelgeuse's ears pricked curiously. Cáel leaned carelessly out of his saddle, catching the corner of the horse's eye as it nickered and watched its surroundings intuitively. "Oh, I get it, old partner - you smell it, too," Cáel grinned, patting the animal companionably and properly adjusting himself back into the saddle. He cocked his head to the side as he viewed the road - the one that would lead him toward his final destination - from beyond a snowy grassland and atop a steep hill. The man's grin slipped into a sly remnant of the expression. His dark eyes widened maniacally, and he breathed deeply in and out through his nostrils. "Ah - money!" The steed seemed to bob its head in approval of its master's words. The Goth released a breathy chuckle, his iron-cold eyes light with amusement. As he allowed Betelgeuse to direct them down the safest route of the hillside, Cáel straddled the horse with his thighs and dramatically threw his arms up into the air, as if he was getting ready to serenade an audience. With the sounds of money registering in his every waking thought, as coherent as the clippity-clop of Betelgeuse's hooves on the cobblestones back home, Cáel felt compelled to sing openly with glee. Unfortunately for any surrounding animals, they were now forcibly subjected to the torrential torment of his drunkenly gritty, occasionally jarring, and slightly off-key singing voice for the next uninterrupted half-hour. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 14 2010, 03:31 PM Post #137 |
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Author: lady ione Date: Thu Apr 10, 2008 9:17 am Ione
Ione only offered a slight smile at the Scout's response. It was so like him as he was always so quiet and set apart from the other knights. It was rare to see him around anyone else while in the tavern, or not. The one thing she did admire about Sarmatian's was their uncanny ability to pick out just the right horse that fit their own style of riding and fighting. Ione thought back to when she had first met Galahad in the stables...she had been petting his horse, a lovely stallion the color of the moon. The young knight had explained to her about the bond he shared with his horse, and said it was the same with all of the knights. The young woman felt that she probably looked like a fright as she had been working since the mid afternoon settling the horses and giving them water and food. Her dark auburn hair hung loosly about her shoulders and she felt grimy...nothing a good bath would not cure. Dark chocolate colored eyes watched the two men move off to look at some horses, when they stopped in front of one particular horse. The animal was a lovely color with gentle eyes, and though it had been in battle, had a lusterous coat and fine barrings...
Well, it was a nice choice, and Tristan seemed pleased after looking the horse over. Granted the Scout never left out a bunch of expression, but she could tell he was pleased with the choice. Smiling to herself, Ione took a look at Mirtha as if to let him know she was going to go back to work feeding the horses, then she would clean what she could. "I will be near if you need me for anything, Mirtha. I am going to help finish getting the horses settled in...there are only a few left," Ione smiled tiredly, and nodded to the Scout, then went off to help a stable hand with the few horses left. Out of the corner of her eye, Ione spotted Adian's horse, Wogan. The black animal had been taken care of, and Ione turned to the stable boy nearby, "This is Adian's horse....when did he get back?" "Back, miss? This horse's master never arrived on the back of this animal. He arrived alone but with the saddle, some traps and such. This horse has been here since the day before yesterday....I think," The boy went back to grooming the black coat of the horse, while Ione was left to wonder what had become of her childhood friend.... |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 14 2010, 03:34 PM Post #138 |
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Author: Elessars Girl Date: Thu Apr 10, 2008 10:36 am Derfel Derfel briefly met Dagonet’s concerned gaze and returned a silent answer that he would look after Linnette. He had promised Dagonet and had every intention of keeping that promise…for Dagonet and Linnesse’s sakes. And while Linnette answered Dagonet, Derfel carefully drew Linnesse closer against his side and placed a soft kiss on her brow. And then with Linnette’s help, they lifted Linnesse up from the mattress and prepared to go.
“Thank you for the offer, m’lady….but I think we’ll be fine for tonight,” Derfel gave a gracious smile to Bors’ beautiful lover; attempting to convey truly how much he appreciated her offer. But Derfel’s purpose in specifically requesting Linnette’s help was his way to ensure he could keep a watchful eye on her tonight. Gedeon would want them to take care of her in any way that they could…and he’d promised Dagonet he’d look after Linnette until the older knight was back on his feet. And Derfel knew that he could not simply tell Linnette what he was doing or certainly she’d refuse his help.
“Yes, luv,” Derfel answered quietly and then dared a quick glance to Linnette. He then gave Dagonet a final nod while beginning to lead the two sisters towards the infirmary door. “I’ll look in on you in the morning, my friend,” Derfel added as they passed the foot of Dagonet’s bed. Derfel was certain that the tall Sarmatian was in fine hands. He had Saoirse and Bors to watch over him and despite Dagonet’s apprehensions, the infirmary was the best place he could be tonight. “Come on, luv, let’s get you to bed now,” Derfel murmured to his lover and then looked over at Linnette. “I can carry her once we get outside,” He said with concern still filling his expression. They reached the door and Derfel immediately held it open for the sisters. Arthur Arthur had not bothered to look down at his abdomen after Lancelot had cut away his blood-soaked tunic. He had no need to see all the fresh blood that had pooled there as he had felt it coating his skin the moment he’d been attacked back on the road. And the instant cold air hit Arthur’s now bare chest caused the Roman to noticeably shiver….despite the gentle and warm touch of Darya’s hand as she mopped at his brow.
He was not thirsty, but if only to appease them accepted the mug of water from Darya’s hand and drank…only flinching once at Lancelot’s ministrations on Arthur’s wound. It hurt like the Devil, but the Commander continued to mask as much of his pain as possible. If Arthur hadn’t felt so damn weak right now, he would halt Lancelot from tending him and insist that his lieutenant rest and focus on his own wounds.
Arthur was still quite certain that Lancelot would imbibe in the wine as cloudy green eyes watched the other man use his teeth to open the bottle. But for once Arthur was mistaken.
“I shall have it taken out of your pay,” Arthur quipped in between clenched teeth and a hiss at the stinging the wine caused as Lancelot wiped at the Roman’s wound again. Then a knock came at the door. Arthur’s gaze flickered from Lancelot’s face to the door itself. Arthur prayed it was not one of his officers (wishing to not be found in his current weakened state) or Jols with a report of another Woad attack….
Neeve. A healer and someone Arthur trusted. He prayed Lancelot was correct. The Commander turned to Darya and gave a small nod to indicate his request that she do as Lancelot had instructed. But before Darya could move away, Arthur brought a hand over and lightly touched her arm in silent appreciation for her care. He wished to speak with Darya, but now was not the time…..later.
Arthur’s focus returned to Lancelot at the dark knight’s question. If the other man was attempting to hide his apprehension, he was failing as Arthur could see that Lancelot was worried despite his bantering words. I will survive this. You have no fear of being left alone here without my protection. He canted his emerald eyes briefly to Lancelot’s arm, noting the blood staining the other man’s sleeve. Arthur’s brows stitched together in concern. He coughed and then reached down to grasp at Lancelot’s wrist halting the knight’s motions. “Press the cloth to your arm there,” Arthur said and then met Lancelot’s dark gaze again. “One of us will need to be strong yet tonight,” He added quietly, not wishing to further alarm Darya while she went towards the door. The stubborn Commander had not given up hope on riding again this night….to seek out Merlin and ensure the safety of the fortress before resting again. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 14 2010, 03:38 PM Post #139 |
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Author: SarmatianKnight Date: Thu Apr 10, 2008 1:11 pm Lucius
When the Captain confirmed what Lucius had said the soldier thought for a moment that he had done perfectly well, hiding his feelings and thoughts as wanted and expected. But then Barbattus was not Captain because he was a fool. Of course the man realised that something was not to Lucius' likings and he realised it immediatly.
Lucius blushed slightly when Barbattus asked invited, him so directly to say what was on his mind. He felt caught unprepared and red-handed although all he wanted to do was to speak. For a brief moment Lucius pondered what he should chose indeed to talk about: the fact that the Captain had the wrong impression about the lurking situation at the stables or (no doubt more important and not so childish) what he thought about the Woads. A small smile tugged at Lucius' lips: if he had learned anything from his father it had been talking. Properly. So why not saying both in one go? He still hesitated although the decision was made. He knew that not all superior officers wanted to hear what their soldiers had to say, not even if they asked them but Barbattus' body language spoke about nothing but neutrality. So Lucius dared to speak openly. Probably it was still a risk but, no risk no success. He took a deep breath, eyes still focused on the horizon he had to watch, the soldier answered: "They will not return. Not tonight. Or have you ever seen a defeated, wounded animal returning immediatly to attack again? No. They always wait, recovering to their full strength before they return for their final and smashing attack." He shook his head to underline his words. "The men you use for the doubled guards could be used somewhere else at the fort. Personally I think it is a waste of time and power." Just then he turned away from the horizon to make sure that Barbattus would get the meaning of his words when he added openly: "And I do not waste time normally. I just prefer to look where I am really needed before I jump in... like when a man hits a woman." He remembered that one of the knights had hit the female prisoner and it was still not what he liked to see. Woad or not. He could simply not understand who allowed such a thing. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 14 2010, 03:40 PM Post #140 |
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Author: golden_trillium Date: Thu Apr 10, 2008 5:38 pm Linnesse and Linnette
"Thank you...I appreciate that," Linnette murmurred in response to the burly knight's condolences. Her voice was tiny, sniffly with tears, but Linnesse, standing between Derfel and her sister, could recognize the beginnings of an icy coating beginnng to form over Linnette's emotions, a solemn, almost expressionless manner that she had adopted back when their father had died. Oh, there was grief there, of course- devastating grief, if one looked but an inch beneath the surface. But she was beginning to draw herself up, close herself in, vow to get on with things and be strong, just as she had done back then. That near-unresponsiveness might be her public persona for some time now, and the thought that it had to be so was enough to break Linnesse's heart. Why did life have to be so cruel? Why had her own first husband, a despicable man, lived on until forcibly ripped from this life, while a good man like Gedeon slipped away mere months after his marriage? It could scarcely be more unfair! She sighed uneasily and inched closer to Derfel, sliding her arm further around his waist- how close had it come to being him?
Linnette nodded acquiescence, her attention mostly focused on Linnesse as, farewells made for now, they made their slow way to the infirmary door. Derfel held it open as the two sisters walked through, and once they were back on the infirmary steps and the door was shut behind them, he moved around and swung her up in his arms. She sagged gratefully against his solidity as Linnette fussily arranged her hood over her head and they started to move down the steps. She had been nearly too tired to walk another step, after her venture to the courtyard and back- and it was sheer heaven, being able to just rest her head against Derfel's shoulder and go along for the ride, close her eyes and not have to think about anything for a little bit. Beside them, Linnette walked in silence- or at least she did not speak. She did sniff and wipe at her eyes quite a bit, and she still twisted and rubbed that ring in her fingers. Linnesse felt awful for not reaching out to her, for not being able to do more to help- but just staying more or less awake was now taking all her strength. She hardly noticed when they entered the building that housed the knights' quarters, heard the sound of the outer door, and then the door of her room, only faintly. She did realize it, though, when she was gently lowered from Derfel's arms onto the bed- her own bed, their bed, at last!- and forced her eyes open even as her body sank down into the drowsy softness of the mattress. Linnette was crouching before the fire, her back to Derfel and Linnesse; she must have gone straight there to start a fire in the grate, while Derfel was getting Linnesse settled. As Linnesse watched though half-open eyes, she straightened up and turned around, her face reddened and her posture speaking of an almost unbearable weariness. "I...is there anything else you need?" she asked, looking first to Linnesse, and then, perhaps deciding that her sister might not be awake enough to give her a coherent answer, to Derfel instead. The question inflection in her voice was just barely there- her whole manner was dull and resigned and tired. Tristan
Tristan looked up from his inspection of Tirgatao at those words, watching as Ione- the tavern maid, or so he had thought- made her way down the aisle away from Mirtha and himself, her long hair swaying a little back and forth across her back. Getting the horses settled in? "She working for you now?" the scout asked Mirtha in a tone of surprise, pointing over his shoulder at the erstwhile server-of-ales. It seemed a rather odd change of occupation for her, to say the least. SUNSET (EVENING) Weather: Rain has slacked off to a drizzle, but is now changing to a light snow. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 14 2010, 03:41 PM Post #141 |
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Author: lady ione Date: Thu Apr 10, 2008 8:12 pm Brendyn He moved about getting a chance to see where everything was located in the Roman quarters, and some of the other parts of the fort. The smithy...good to know in case Tyranus needed shoes replaced, or cleaned. As he walked, Brendyn thought of his obligation to go to evening prayer, but he had also promised to meet Malcus and Titus. Evening prayer would have to wait. He raised his one hand to rest on his injured arm as the cold began to bother it a bit. All total, he guessed that he had around 15 stitches between the two arm wounds...He had not thought them bad. Once again his thoughts went back to those he had trained with and lost including the Commander, Antonius. The man had been tough as nails when it came to training, but tough training produced well honed skills. The cold rain had changed slowly to snow, and Brendyn pulled his cloak tighter about his trim body as he shivered. He had not had a cloak since the night before, and had gotten quite use to the cold...but now that he had a cloak, he began to shiver. He needed something hot to drink....or perhaps it was exhaustion? The young soldier walked in the dimming light of the wintery day wondering what adventures would come while he was stationed at Badon Hill. So far, the "welcome" had been unsurpassed, and the men he was to report to were the finest he had seen in a while...of course, Antonius had told him that as had the Saxon he had befriended...Derfel as well as the two Sarmatians, Gawain and Galahad. How were their wounds? Most importantly...how were Artorius and Quintus? Arthur worried the young soldier most of all as he shuddered to think of losing a second Commander to severe battle wounds. Another shiver ran over his body. Brendyn refused to think that he had chills, but he had to get out of the sleet before he did put himself out of service. As he walked, suddenly an elderly man slipped on the wet ground as he pushed his wares through the soggy frozen ground. Brendyn rushed forward to help the man regain his balance. Thankfully the elderly man was not injured, and stooped to pick up some of his lost work...metal work it looked like. Brendyn helped him regain his goods, and reached out to recover a dagger that was half buried in mud and ice. He stood and inspected it while the elderly man did so as well wondering what the young man was going to do with it... Bendyn smiled warmly at the man and handed the dagger back to him, "Fine work, my friend. Where is your shop?" The man did not trust Romans, or anyone in Roman guard that much, but anything to make a bit of money was a good thing, "O'er there, young lad." He brushed some of the mud from the weapon while Brendyn marveled at the sheen on the blade. It hardly looked damaged from the tumble... "I would like to see what other weapons you make as well as have my lance fitted for a new tip. The other is dull," Brendyn made ready to leave the man's side. The elderly man didn't know what to make of him: He was new to the fort? And from where? "I'll be t' work in th' morn if ya want to see me about the new lance tip..." The man walked off leaving Brendyn alone once again.... |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 14 2010, 03:44 PM Post #142 |
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Author: LadyCastus Date: Thu Apr 10, 2008 9:41 pm Barbattus Malcus shivered slightly as the soft wetness of a snowflake splat itself on the tip of his Roman nose. He held back a sneeze. Damn! he cursed himself and hoped the sneeze was not the beginnings of a cold. Malcus hated being sick - it was a sign of weakness - because there was far too much to be done over the next several days. The Commander knew he had surprised the soldier, Lucius. So Malcus gave the other man a moment to gather himself. Finally, Lucius took a deep breath and spoke.
Malcus' eyes flashed, but he didn't interupt the young man.
Malcus smiled and nodded his head. "Yes, they do," he said softly. What is he getting at?
Malcus' smiled faded immediately. Who did this ... this .. soldier think he was to question the orders of not only a superior officer - but the orders of Arthur Castus himself!? Malcus' black eyes burned into the soldier like hot lava. Before Barbattus could rip Lucius a new ass, the soldier whipped around and faced the commander directly! Just as Malcus opened his mouth to give the insolent little prick a sound tongue lashing, Lucius, as though trying to get the words out of his mouth as quickly as possible, spewed
What? What the fuck is he talking about? That woad creature? Malcus closed his mouth and squinted his eyes at the young man. Titrus shifted uncomfortably next to the Commander, obviously nervous about what was about to happen. This soldier has spunk. I like that. Maybe a little too much perhaps, but that can be molded and developed. Maybe he's not a little slacker afterall Malcus conferred with himself. Finally he spoke out loud. "I'm assuming you're finished, soldier." Malcus stated not as a question. The Commander relaxed his 'parade rest' stance to indicate that the discussion was over. "It will do you well not to question the orders of your superiors. To do so could prove to be very painful for you," Barbattus paused for affect, silently communicating to Lucius that this had been his first and only opportunity to do so. "Should it happen again, I will flog you myself until the skin hangs from your miserable arse." Malcus added just as calmly as if he'd just asked if it were snowing. "But perhaps I misjudged you," the Commander added, scratching at the whiskers on his chin, "what concern of yours is that woad woman?" And then he sneezed. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 14 2010, 03:45 PM Post #143 |
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Author: sabor ice Date: Thu Apr 10, 2008 9:43 pm Milan
He propelled himself with his legs a bit back from Mari, playfully splashing her in return, laughing when she squealed in surprised delight. Milan swiped a palm over his dripping wet face - they were both officially drenched from head to toe now. When he felt she had moved too far away, Milan reached out for her hand and gently pulled her back to him, closing the distance between them again. Mari was the type to get way ahead of herself. She wanted so much, especially when it came to others. Milan was certain that if it were up to her, everyone in the world would have all of their dreams and aspirations come true. With the snap of her fingers or an adorable shrug of her shoulder, everything that she wanted to be would be. The world was a beautiful place when he looked at it through Mari's eyes. Even now, optimism and acceptance beamed brightly through her every pore, illuminating Milan with her life force, her beautiful soul making him a believer that there was something greater out there than merely going through the motions of everyday life. She made it easy for him to smile, to breath a sigh of relief, to think that just maybe everything was going to be okay someday. Mari was the only person who had ever made him feel like he mattered, to ever make him feel loved. Milan never wanted the feeling to end.
Milan didn't precisely acknowledge her words, as he had busied himself with playfully nipping at her jawline and tasting the salty skin at her neck. Far be it from Milan to deny Mari something that obviously would make her happy - and he wouldn't - but it did not mean that he was in any hurry. It was a bit of a white lie, he supposed, to hold himself back from learning to properly speak, but he was convinced it was for Mari's own good - the last thing Milan wanted was for her to ask him to read her Rowan's letter, or to have him teach her to do so on her own. But could he really stop the inevitable? Mari would learn about the letter one way or another, but Milan only hoped that it would come later rather than sooner. The young man placed his hands on either side of her slender neck, his thumbs brushing along her cheekbones as he looked down at her with a boyish, lop-sided smile. He kissed the tip of her nose tenderly, before pulling away, one hand dropping into the water to give hers a gentle squeeze, and Milan gestured with a subtle jut of his head toward the benches, suggesting they should leave. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 14 2010, 03:48 PM Post #144 |
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Author: Darya Date: Fri Apr 11, 2008 8:56 am Darya & Neeve
The dark Sarmatian smirked faintly at Lancelot, yet her eyes lingered not on his face but on his arm…where his tunic was soaked with blood. And it was not Arthur’s blood. “You might want to drink some once a healer will get her hands on you and your injury…”, she said quietly…half joking, half dead-serious. And for an instant, there even was a sparkle of relief in Darya’s dark eyes when Arthur finally gave in and accepted the water she had been offering him…and drank something. That was a good sign, right? Gods, she had almost forgotten what serious injuries could do to a strong man. How weak they could make them…and make them look. How helpless… It hurt to see her lover in such a way…and it hurt even more that there was so little that she could do to help him. Then a firm knock at the door and Lancelot’s voice distracted her from her dark thoughts…
I assume that is the healer, the Sarmatian thought and returned Arthur’s nod with a small one of her own. Then her gaze dropped to the Roman’s hand as he briefly touched her arm…and the dark-haired gave him a faint but loving smile and covered his hand on her arm with her own hand for a moment before she turned on her heels to walk over to the door. In fact, she would be fine with any healer or nun…as so long as that person would ease the Commander’s pain and make sure he would be fine again in no time. Then Darya opened the heavy door…and dark eyes almost immediately locked with blue ones. The Sarmatian furrowed her brow as she assessed the tall slender woman with the strange haircut, that was standing right in front of her. Neeve arched an eyebrow at the dark-haired female who had just opened the door… She had seen her before…somewhere… But now was not the time to ponder this. “The Commander is expecting me…”, the healer stated and tilted her head slightly. Darya nodded and stepped aside, gesturing for the other woman to enter. The Sarmatian then took the bowl and all else that the young page boy by the healer’s side was carrying and dismissed the boy. She closed the door again and walked towards the table by Arthur’s bed where she carefully put all the things in her arms down…eyeing the strange healer a bit suspiciously while doing so… Finally the dark-haired made way for Neeve to enter. The Briton gave the other woman a nod and then walked in. Her crystal-blue eyes immediately took in the situation. She saw the Commander resting on the bed…his bare chest bloodied…his skin unhealthily pale. By the Gods…, the raven-haired thought but as usual hid her true emotions well. “Gentlemen…”, the healer then greeted Lancelot and Arthur and approached the bed to stand by the First Knight’s side, “…may I request a brief report on what exactly has happened, how it happened…and what has been done so far?” It was a question per se…yet the Briton’s tone was more that of an order. She could be nice to people…but when it came to her work, she expected them to do as she said, unless they were healers themselves… The two men in the room should be used to this…but it had been a while since she had last seen one of them in need of her skills. A fact she was grateful for...from a healer’s point of view. As a friend, she had missed them a lot. However, she would definitely have preferred a more casual reunion…not one that included work and injuries… Well, the Gods had decided differently…and she would deal with it… |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 14 2010, 03:49 PM Post #145 |
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Author: lady ione Date: Fri Apr 11, 2008 9:50 am Vanora and Bors The knight felt he had to make it up to the newly widowed young woman after the remark he had made. Linnette did not seem to hold it against him though, so he left it as he had said it...it had made her smile, though a bit tearful which was to be expected. He placed an arm around Vanora's shoulder as she spoke to Derfel. Bors had always admired Vanora for being able to say just the right things, and Derfel and Linnesse took what she said to them graciously. Linnesse had grown thin and pale looking when last he had seen her, and he wondered what had passed through the fort while they were gone...
Vanora nodded, and understood somehow. To leave Linnette alone would not be good for her, but the offer still stood. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 14 2010, 03:50 PM Post #146 |
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Author: Kayla Date: Fri Apr 11, 2008 10:18 am Fiona
Fiona immediately shook her head before continuing. Brianna had said anything about anyone harming her at all while she was behind the walls, so she assumed that nothing had happened to her. They hadn't been together at all times but surely she would have said something to her sister if something had happened. The woad didn't want Gawain to worry about that, though. "Nothing happened," she said, her voice calm before she continued uncomfortably with the reason why her sister had left. Right when she said them out loud and the knight closed his eyes, she could sense just how much the words hurt him. It didn't take much to realize that those words would hurt almost anyone that cared as much as he did about Brianna. He didn't speak for a moment and Fiona stood there, shuffling from foot to foot with her hands clasped in front of her. The rain had stopped a bit, so that there was only a light drizzle coming down. She ran a hand through her dark hair, breathing out a sigh.
Fiona glanced up at him, once again pushing her fingers through her hair so that the strands were off of her face. She contemplated his words, trying to think of how the knight would be able to get a message to his lover. She had no idea how Brianna would even react to it now that she was gone, but the woad knew that Gawain was hurt by the news and she truly did want to help him in any way that she possibly could. The young woman was still on the fence in her thoughts when it came to whether or not she was still welcomed back with the woads. When she had seen Merlin during the attack, he had asked if she would come back with him, an offer that she had declined. She'd had her chance to go back and now, who knew if she would be allowed back. It posed a problem when it came to getting a message to Brianna, but she would try and come up with a solution somehow. "I'm not sure," she spoke hesitantly. "But, I can try to figure out a way, if it'll help." |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 14 2010, 03:51 PM Post #147 |
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Author: Elessars Girl Date: Fri Apr 11, 2008 11:23 am Derfel Derfel smiled down into Linnesse’s beautiful eyes once he’d laid her down on their bed. He immediately pulled the thick covers over Linnesse’s slender frame and lightly brushed the hair out of her face. Neeve had instructed that Linnesse should drink plenty of water….Derfel glanced over his shoulder to see if they had any on the table. Linnette had not spoken since they’d left the infirmary, and upon entering the room had taken care of the fire in the brazier while Derfel had gotten Linnesse situated on the bed.
Linnette’s voice was completely void of the typical strength and character that Derfel was so accustomed to hearing. His shoulders slightly slumped at the question as Derfel knew he needed to answer with something to keep Linnette occupied. She’d surely not accept his sympathy or attempts to comfort her. Derfel gently patted at Linnesse’s shoulder then stood to face Linnette. Derfel knew that there was nothing he could say to ease her pain. Nothing he could do to comfort her. But surely Linnette – pregnant with Gedeon’s child – should not be left alone tonight. He rather nervously rubbed the palms of his hands over the front of his tunic while trying to think of something to say…..anything to help. “What all…” Derfel started and then coughed as he took another step closer to Linnette, which in this small room immediately brought him within an arm’s length. He raked a hand through his dirty blond hair and started again. “…what should I be doin’ for her? Besides gettin’ her to drink? And I’d feel a might better if you could stay?” Derfel asked with as tender a tone as he could manage and slightly gestured over to Linnesse as he spoke. All that he could hope for was that Linnette would agree to sit with her sister for a bit longer…and perhaps he could persuade her to remain here tonight. But what about tomorrow and the day after that? He’d think of something…Linnesse would surely know what to do. “I should clean meself up a bit and I’d hate for Linnesse to be unattended even for a second,” Derfel added attempting to further justify needing Linnette’s company. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 14 2010, 03:55 PM Post #148 |
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Author: Kay Date: Fri Apr 11, 2008 3:20 pm Guinevere Merlin held up his bandaged arm for his daughter to see.
Her father glanced across at Juna with a smile.
Guinevere studied the pair of them as they stood there and she felt certain that there was something more to her father's relationship with Juna, but she pushed the thought to the back of her mind. She had to concentrate on the mission. Juna broke into Guinevere's thoughts suddenly:
The dark Woad heistated before replying, not wanting to say something rash that might upset Juna; it seemed to her that there was a delicate balance in the situation. "The important thing is" Guinevere said, after a pause. "That we get Neeria and Eala back safely." The sun was already setting and a light dusting of snow was falling. Guinevere was aware that her heart was beating faster as the time to begin the rescue drew nearer. She closed her eyes, drawing on her reserves of courage to help see her through this night. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 14 2010, 03:57 PM Post #149 |
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Author: Unicorn Date: Fri Apr 11, 2008 3:54 pm Dagonet and Saoirse Dagonet watched Linnette sitting on the edge of the bed he was on and fought back his tears once she looked into his face. His pain was evident... His heart was too hurt to keep his sorrow off his face. His body was too broken for him to even care that his weakness was shown. His mind too troubled to think straight. Linnette's face was filled with sorrow also.... and Dagonet was so sorry that he could not do anything... that he could not be with her at this moment. He hated himself so much for this... For not being able to do anything. His gaze met with Derfel's and read an answer from the young man's eyes. The confirmation of his ealrier promise. It brought some comfort... He will be there for Linnette instead of Dagonet. That was good... she will have Linnesse and Derfel at least. Nothing more Dagonet could do.
The way she called him, father made his heart stop for a moment. She used to call him this way before, but in this moment it had a special meaning... It was much more stronger. Father... He was a father to nobody right now... his son was dead... his daughter lost forever. He was a sorrowful look of a broken man... of man who lost the most important people to him... his children. The fact that Linnette, wife of his dead son called him a father was very special.... was something what really mattered. She gave him the chance to be someone more than a broken man.... She allowed him the chance to be someone close to her. As she turned her face away from him and stood up, Dagonet allowed himself this one more tear to go down from his eye, down his scar. Dagonet closed his eyes as Vanora and Bors adressed them... Saoirse was not back yet.
The tall knight sent a young man a shadow of a smile... In the morning. The night will be the worst time for him... Will he survive it? Will his heart beat in the morning....? ...or will it broke under his sadness? Will he ever be able to live with the knowledge that he let down all of his loved ones? Will he ever to be able to live without Gedeon? With the feeling of guilty and sorrow? Will he be able to live a normal life? Everybody has gone... Neeve... Derfel with two sisters.... and Vanora was going to leave soon as he saw her say something to her burly lover. A deep frown appeared on Dagonet's brow and he turned his head to hide his face from everybody... to just look away from the world... Pretend that the world forgott about him. "Dagonet...." a soft whisper made him look back and saw Saoirse returning with supplies. His lover cast a look at Vanora and Bors before adressing the tall man and kneeling beside his bed. The wound was a nasty one, but hopefully Bors's stitches were holding. Dagonet tried to smile but in fact he could not... Smile was one thing from many others, which he could not do now. His eyes went to Bors as Saoirse started slowly and gently to clean area near the wound... Dagonet nodded at his friend and casting him the knowing look... full of sadness and regret of not being able to do anything... Helpnesness... Bors would understand that. Saoirse looked at the burly knight also but her eyes were only betraying her worry about her lover. While Saoirse cleaned the wound, Dagonet turned his head again and looked at the wall in the far right of him. Focused on staring only in that place. When the salve came into contact with his side the tall knight winced and closed his eyes. "Bandages..." murmured Saoirse and as she applied them her eyes were running from Dagonet's wound to his face... When she was done Saoirse sighed silently and with hesitation, slowly put her hand over Dagonet's scarred cheek... smoothing his wet from tears skin. His eyes did not move from the wall... His expression was changing slowly... from sterness to more hurtfull... His soul was melting... as was his heart.... Slowly his emotions were once more taking over him. Soairse sat on the edge of his bed and her second hand came to his chest. Then her head followed and sunk into his chest, a sob was caught in her throat. After a second she laid her body down and gently snuggled beside her lover, minding his wound. When a sob shook his body Saoirse closed her eyes and thightened her grasp on his cheek and chest. Tears were going his face freely, from his oppened eyes.... He needed this... Moment of peace... moment of grief... He needed Saoirse. His weak arms went around her waist and his huge hand rested on her back, while his heart was torn in pieces.... "I love you...." whispered Saoirse silently, while he cried in short sobs. He did not manage to speak up.... Saoirse put a hand over his lips and let him give up to the sorrow. "Don't say anything..." she whispered again. "I know..." And with this Dagonet gave up completely and breathed in shakily. He needed this... He needed to give up to his weakness. As tears fell... his eyelids went closed... Sleep claimed his weakened body and heart... And Saoirse was beside him, watching over him... Watching his sorrowful and teary face.... not moving... Leting him rest finally... |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 14 2010, 03:58 PM Post #150 |
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Author: Lancelot Date: Fri Apr 11, 2008 5:16 pm Lancelot
Lancelot smirked darkly; he continued his work at Arthur's wound. "That is the idea," he told the woman, and turned his head only briefly as she went to open the door. Thank the gods the page had found Neeve - not that Lancelot didn't trust the other healers, but from what he'd seen and heard, she was the best and the most efficient and thorough. Besides, she could be trusted to keep her mouth shut if that's what Arthur wanted.
Lancelot knew he wasn't a healer, or any kind of doctor. He was a soldier who knew how to patch people up quickly, in order to help them live long enough to get back to home base. Usually. And yet...he found himself reluctant to stop what he was doing. He continued his cleaning of Arthur's wound, but raised his head and spoke to Neeve. "The commander took a poke to the side from a nasty Saxon blade," he said without preamble. "I've cleaned and patched it as best I could, but as I said plenty of times before, I am no medicus." He flashed a brief smile at the healer - it did not reach his dark eyes. He canted his gaze back down to the injury in front of him; it was still seeping blood, and looked angry and painful. His hands shook once, but he squeezed the cloth he was using and hopefully hid it. I am the first knight. I do not fail. I was born to this duty - war and pain and blood are what I know. And yet...here I am, shaking pathetically at the thought Arthur might not... He stood abruptly, and wiped a hand over his face. "He's got a fever as well, and stumbled earlier." He wasn't going to lie to save face - he didn't care if Arthur was angry. The woman was a doctor, and if she was to help the Roman, she had to know everything. Grasping her arm, he looked into her eyes. "Neeve. Do what you can. Please." And I'll be damned if Arthur tries to ride out again today. I will lash him to the bed if he attempts it. And I'm sure Darya would help. He let go of the healer's arm, and moved back a bit so she would have room to work. He crossed his arms over his chest; he was suddenly chilled without his gear on. Or perhaps that was the loss of blood from his arm. Nevertheless, he kept his intense eyes trained on Arthur and Neeve, hoping against hope she could do something for him. For his friend. His best friend, his worst enemy, the man that had shaped his existance, whether Lancelot wanted to admit it or not. For good or bad, the Sarmatian couldn't say. He blew out a breath, and hoped he'd be given the chance to figure that out. |
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