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April 2008
Topic Started: Nov 5 2009, 10:37 PM (3,973 Views)
golden_trillium

Admin
Author: Lancelot
Date: Mon Apr 14, 2008 6:58 pm
Lancelot


Darya
 
“Lancelot is right, Arthur…you need to recover fully…you
know that. All else would just be an unnecessary risk…”


Lancelot looked up from watching Neeve clean Arthur's wound.
"Goodness. Did someone just agree with me? A banner day. You
should take a cue, commander." He made an innocent face at
Arthur, crossing his arms. He then immediately uncrossed them,
wincing as the drying skin and blood pulled at his wound.

Neeve
 
“I don’t think that poison is involved here,
Arthur…blood loss and perhaps a beginning infection are
the reasons for you feeling so weak. And you have a
fever, too, Commander…”


Lancelot met Arthur's eyes, his expression light, but he
pursed his lips, an I told you so tickling his tongue - but he
exercised major restraint and said nothing.

Neeve
 
“Do me a favour and apply this to your wound, too… Since
you don’t want anyone to help you, you might as well do
it yourself. And to make one thing clear, Arthur…you
will certainly not go anywhere anytime soon. You would
have to get past me…and trust me, right now this would
be a mission impossible for you…I know that you are not
happy to hear this…but your First Knight and your lady
are right… And now you may want to look somewhere else…”


Your lady. Perhaps Lancelot shouldn't have used that exact
term - but it was the truth. Lancelot could not give Arthur
what the man would eventually want - a home, stability, and
children - not that Lancelot wanted any of those things.

But, like anyone who lived this type of life, he wanted for
loyalty, friendship - and yes, perhaps a love of his own. He
looked at the Roman's eyes, cloudy and distant now from pain,
and wondered...and wondered if he might be better off as the
lothario and rake he had made sure people thought he was.

He grumbled at Neeve, rolling his eyes at her tone, but took
the bowl and cloth from her, and applied the herbal remedy to
his own wound as he keep eagle-eyes on Arthur. He didn't dare
look at Darya, for fear that the devotion and love he saw
between his kinswoman and his commander might make him say
something he regretted.

He pressed the medicine soaked cloth to his arm, his oddly
white stomach muscles (well, he did spend a lot of time in
armor) clenching in sympathy as Neeve pierced Arthur's skin
with her needle and thread.

Arthur
 
“Do as she has instructed, Lancelot. Or I will do it
myself in a moment…and none too gently, my friend,”


Lancelot was becoming an expert at rolling his eyes,
especially around Arthur. "And if you think I'm scared of you,
you have another thing coming, old man." He flashed a quick,
dirty grin at Arthur, and continued to watch the sewing,
remembering to keep the cloth on his own wound.

Arthur
 
“All three of you conspire against me,”


Lancelot laughed, albeit with a crazed sound to his voice.
"They are very smart women, my friend. Especially for agreeing
with me. They would be foolish not to." He winked at Neeve,
ready for the retort that would surely come from her sometimes
sharp tongue. He would have to catch her later and thank her
for being prompt, and good at what she did. Perhaps a
drink....he'd have to think on it. The dark haired healer was
pretty, and it had been rather too long since Lancelot had had
any agreeable company.

Or at least company who had not thrown find yourself another
whore for the night at him.

He looked at Arthur again, who was holding up rather well,
despite the pain he was in. Lancelot finished mopping up his
arrow hole with the herbs Neeve had given him, and tossed the
dirtied cloth to the side. He ripped a piece of fabric off his
now dessicated tunic, and using his teeth, tied a strip of
relatively clean linen around the wound. "That will do for
now," he announced to anyone who cared, and, fishing in
Arthur's clean laundry pile again, pulled one of the
commander's tunics over his own head. It hung to mid thigh,
and swallowed him, giving him the appearance of a child
wearing his father's things. The pale skin and black pits of
exhaustion under Lancelot's eyes did not help matters.

Arthur
 
“I see that you have not lost your gentle touch,”


Lancelot dragged a stool to Arthur's side, sitting heavily but
out of the way of Neeve so she could work unimpeded. He
reached out a hand without thinking, but his eyes strayed to
where Darya held Arthur's hand in her own...and he dropped his
back to his lap.
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: golden_trillium
Date: Mon Apr 14, 2008 7:35 pm
Tristan


Neeria
 
"Tristan? Tristan? Triiiiiiistan? Tristaaaaaaaaan?
Tris-tan. Thank you, Tris-tan, Tristan!
Scout...Triiiis-tan, you have saved my life. Thank you.
Please don't leave me here. Not yet. Please."


By all the Gods...that was even worse. The scout regretted
immediately telling Neeria his name, for she began to roll it
around her mouth, trying out various different pronunciations
of it in an effort to get it just right- apparently the sound
of it was rather strange to Woad ears. Tristan actually felt
his cheeks grow hot as she continued to blabber it, and just
outside the open cell door, the guard was now having paroxysms
of silent laughter, leaning against the wall and holding his
stomach in mirth. Damn it! Tristan wanted to punch the bastard
in the face.

"No," he growled savagely at Neeria, bending once more and
wrenching both her hands away from him at the same time, more
roughly now. He stepped back swiftly the second he was free;
his instinct was all to draw a knife or some other weapon, but
his rational mind reminded him just in time that that was not
necessary, at least not yet- and that this creature was not to
be harmed. She was an enemy still, though- a deadly enemy, and
hardly deserving of as little consideration as he had given
her. Tristan backed up another step to the cell door, standing
with his back to the opening, breathing, inexplcably, a little
hard.

"You tried to kill my Commander," he nearly continued, in a
voice so soft as to almost be a whisper, fierce with hatred of
her and all Woads. They were vile animals, devils.

"You should be dead," he concluded with heartless finality,
turning and leaving the cell in a swift motion, slamming the
heavy door behind him. If she did indeed expire before
morning, it would be a good thing, he told himself- keep
Arthur from going on any more wild goose chases.
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: Starbelle
Date: Mon Apr 14, 2008 8:03 pm
Jols


After retrieving the saddlebags up off of the ground, and
tossing them over his shoulder as well as grabbing the swords
he decided would do better under the expert care of the smithy
than himself, Jols headed out of the stable on his missions.

Dropping the weapons off with an apprentice telling him that
it was very important the head smithy looked at them after the
battle that the knights' had been in and handed the young boy
a coin in return for doing so.

Heading over to a private room, the squire saw the second part of his mission resting in an alcove. (Editor's note: this is an uncorrected error; Linnette is actually walking down the corridor of the knights' quarters.) Clearing his throat, Jols headed further in and sat down on the bench placing the bags down next to his feet and reaching over, placed his hand on her shoulder gently shaking her.

"Pardon me for disturbing your rest, lady, but I think that
these belong to you." Jols said in a voice he normally used
for calming the very skittish horses.
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: lady ione
Date: Mon Apr 14, 2008 8:17 pm
Ione


Ione thanked the young man for his information concerning
Adian not returning on Wogan. To have the horse arrive here
unmanned was odd not to mention just plain scary. The stable
hand finished grooming the big black horse, then went off to
finish his duties before he could go to his quarters and
sleep. Ione stood there for a moment to catch her breath as
she just felt totally exhausted when it was just like the work
she had done when she had first been able to move about Badon
Hill. Now, with Arthur's revelation that she was a civilian
like everyone else at the fort and was here under his
protection, it made her feel better about how she saw herself
around the fort...

The Weaver's shop. She had to get back to it to clean up the
mess left there by the woads. Seeing that a lot of the work
was done, Ione went back over to Tarik to make sure she had
her blanket on to keep her warm. Looking over to where Tristan
had made a choice of a new horse which he had groomed, and
taken care of for the night, she saw Mirtha looking her way
with an odd look in his eyes. She averted her eyes, and looked
down at Javier's family ring he had placed on her finger. Ione
looked outside and saw the snow lightly falling outside, and
it was getting dark. Her dark eyes watched Tristan leave as
she went to get her cloak from the hook nearby. Catching
Mirtha's glance once more, she hooked the clasp, and made her
way to the door of the stable...
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: linnet
Date: Mon Apr 14, 2008 8:24 pm
Juna


After she had spent time with all those wounded who had been
treated earlier and needed a second visit, Juna returned to
her shelter. She knew there may have been a few injured who
had received no help at all yet, but she deliberately chose to
leave them so as to keep Lourdes occupied as long as possible.
Besides, Juna was so drained and numb from the hours of
intense work, that she thought her help now might be
ineffective. Merlin had not returned yet. She took her
supplies into the shelter and grabbed a blanket from her
little cot. Wrapping it around herself and crossing her arms
over her chest to hold it closed, she went back outside.

She leaned her tired body back against a wooden support at the
front of her shelter. The flickering light of one of the
campfires let her see Lourdes silhouetted, still helping
Woads. Sounds of quiet conversations among Merlin’s people
accompanied the crackling of the fires. Juna looked up at the
vast sky. The moon and most of the stars were hidden by low
clouds. A few white flakes touched her face and decorated her
dark hair.

She felt utterly alone, and her thoughts drifted to Adian.
Last night with him had shown her that there could be
something better than being alone and closed to human contact.
It had felt good to connect to another human being, to talk,
to relax and let go of her cold detachment. But how does one
make that happen after spending so many years totally self
contained? She was able to save people’s lives, but had no
connection to them otherwise. She didn’t know them, their
histories, their personalities, their family stories, their
hopes or talents. She had no friends. None. And she had not
wanted any. Merlin was the only person she had cared about.
Now alone in the night, she felt almost sick, because she had
no faith that she would be able to change.

She thought about approaching one of the groups gathered
around a fire, but unless it was as a healer doing her job, it
seemed impossible. When a woman walked past where Juna stood,
she tested herself by saying “Good evening”, and smiling. But
the Woad gave her a quick sideways look of confusion and kept
walking. Juna didn’t blame her though, as she probably looked
strange just standing out in the cold alone, and it didn’t
help that she didn’t know the woman’s name. It was then that
she saw Merlin and Guinevere return. They met with Connell,
Guinevere left, and someone approached Merlin to talk. Juna
just watched Merlin from where she stood. Watching him had
been one of her most familiar occupations for fifteen years,
and it felt better than trying to figure out how to change her
life. Besides, he looked every bit as magnificent to her now
as he had all those years ago.
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golden_trillium

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Author: golden_trillium
Date: Mon Apr 14, 2008 8:25 pm


Linnette

Jols
 
"Pardon me for disturbing you, Lady, but I think that
these belong to you."


"Mmm?" At the sound of the man's voice, clearly addressed to
her, Linnette blinked and looked up. Tears still made damp
tracks on her cheeks, her eyes felt swollen, and it felt
strange to look up- as if her whole head was readjusting.
Before her stood the squire, Jols, who served as assistant to
the knights- and for a moment she could not figure out what he
was talking about. What belonged to her? She blinked again,
confusedly- then noticed the saddlebags on the floor by his
feet, which he must have set down when he addressed her.
Saddlebags. Gedeon's saddlebags. Tears sprang to her eyes
again. His things were inside. Spare clothes, spare knife, the
dried meat he always carried with him for an impromptu
snack...she knew what would be in there without even looking.
But the thought of looking right now was unbearable.

"Oh, could you..." her words were interrupted with a sniff, a
desperate one as she once again fought the urge to cry in
front of someone else.

"Could you take them over to our room? It's here." Her words
were soft and choked in tears now, but she stepped forward and
pointed the way to the room she had shared with Gedeon. It was
not far- though she had not been planning to stop there before
the chapel. Once again, the thought of it, empty and cold and
without Gedeon, made her heart ache.
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: Starbelle
Date: Mon Apr 14, 2008 8:28 pm
Tatiana


Seeing the soldiers head into the tavern, Tatiana decided not
to head down to the stables quite yet, turned around and
headed back towards the tavern as she'd never seen it in
action before and became slightly curious about what went on
inside.

Her small booted feet made a slight crunching noise in the
snow that had gathered in the hallway. Mentally squaring her
shoulders, she crossed over the threshold and entered the
tavern proper. As her hazel eyes took in the action, she made
sure to stay out of the way of the serving girls. Seeing
Vanora, Tatiana nodded to her, but didn't speak. Tossing her
head like a spirited filly caused her long coppery hair to
rest over one shoulder.

"Greetings, sir soldiers. Lovely weather we're having hmm?"
She said in a friendly voice to them a grin appearing on her
face.
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: LadyCastus
Date: Mon Apr 14, 2008 10:03 pm
Neeria


Neeria clung to Tristan as though her life depended on it
because in her mind, it did. She felt that if she could hold
onto Tristan, she would be holding onto life itself.

Tristan
 
"No,"


Tristan snarled and roughly snatched Neeria's hands from
around his legs. Once again, panic struck the prisoner. She
knew she'd be plunged into solitary darkness again. This time
though, she didn't struggle. Neeria resigned herself to her
fate. Perhaps death would come to her swiftly. She did not try
to stop Tristan when he backed away from her and stared at her
like she was a crazed animal. Neither did she flail and scream
and cry for him to stay. Instead, she wrapped the blanket
around her tightly and leaned back against the wall.

Tristan backed up another step to the cell door and stood with
his back to the opening. The angry scout spoke just above a
whisper.

Tristan
 
"You tried to kill my Commander. You should be dead.


Neeria shouted out to him, just as he slammed the cell door.

"My hatred is not for you, Sarmatian. Triiis-tan." The woad's
voice cracked. "Good bye. Thank you."

Then she laid her head back down on the dirty straw and waited
to die.
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golden_trillium

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Author: sabor ice
Date: Mon Apr 14, 2008 10:43 pm
Alina


The hour had grown late by time Alina had finished with her
ministrations of Galahad's wounds. He would possibly need
stitching at some point, and surely fresh bandages by morning
- and like it or not, he'd have to come to the infirmary with
her in order to get properly treated - but for now, Alina let
Galahad have some uninterrupted and well-deserved rest.

She was quiet as she went to fetch some fresh water for the
basin, cleaned up a bit, and then changed into a fresh dress -
light blue in color. Afterward, Alina found herself keeping
vigil over Galahad, laying beside him in bed and watching the
rise and fall of his bare chest as he soundly slept. She
could've done so all night, as happy as she was that he had
returned alive, but the silence (save for Galahad's snoring),
was beginning to intimidate her, taunt her. It allowed time
for her mind to wander and to points of origin in which she'd
rather not loiter. So, with no chance for slumber in sight,
nor peace of mind, Alina drew herself up from bed, donned on
her cloak, and silently slipped from the room.

The night seemed colder than usual, filled with evanescent
dreams and an inexplicable listlessness. Alina walked as one
condemned, dazedly and with heavy, wallowing footsteps. By
time she had entered the tavern, her torn thoughts had
retreated back into the dark corners of her mind. The fresh
air had done her at least some good, and now she would find
solace in the most constant thing in her life - food.

Alina had not paid too much heed to whoever was in the tavern
- although she had seen Vanora and another woman busy near the
table of two soldiers on her way in - and promptly went to
speak with a passing wench to place her order - stew for
herself, and a bundle of an assortment of whatever was
available to take with her later for Galahad.
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golden_trillium

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Author: golden_trillium
Date: Tue Apr 15, 2008 6:41 am
Tristan


Neeria
 
"My hatred is not for you, Sarmatian. Triiis-tan. Good
bye. Thank you."


Her voice echoed to him through the now closed door, thanking
him, absolving him, taunting him. Tristan whirled again on the
laughing guard, this time seizing him by the collar and
practically throwing him up against the wall opposite Neeria's
cell.

"I told you to get her a healer. Do it!" he growled in the
guard's face, which was still relaxing from its idiotic smile
as the man realized that Tristan was not amused at all- in
fact very angry indeed.

"All right, all right," the man stammered, holding up his
hands in a conciliatory gesture, his eyes now wide with
surprise that the scout was taking this all so seriously.
Tristan slowly let his fingers relax, finally releasing the
guard, who scuttled off after a messenger again- but he felt
utterly tormented inside. Neeria's near-worship of him was a
mockery- it made him feel ashamed of things he could not even
articulate. He wished she were dead. He wished he had never
seen her at all. He wished he had not given in to
sentimentality and brought her the damn blanket- but he had,
and now she would remember it, and think it was done out of
kindness. It was not.

His body tight with barely contained anger, Tristan stalked
out of the dungeons, not even waiting around to see if a
healer was indeed fetched, despite his growling instructions
to the guard. He shouldn't have done that- shouldn't have
shoved the man up against the wall like that. If the guard
chose to raise a stink about it, it might result in
punishment- some latrine duty, perhaps, or something else
unsavory. Tristan didn't care. One dealt with these things
when one had no choice.

The cold air outside calmed him a bit. Tristan took deep
lungfuls of it as he crossed the courtyard, willing his body
to relax, his mind to let go of that disturbing experience. By
the time he pushed open the tavern door and let himself in to
the noisy, ale-smelling warmth, he was in a slightly better
mood, though still by no means mellow. He caught a wench by
the elbow, appropriated a mug off her tray, and retired to a
corner table, where he position himself with his back to the
wall and his feet propped up before him, scanning the room and
wondering if that blonde wench he had noticed earlier in the
courtyard happened to be available.
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: LadyCastus
Date: Tue Apr 15, 2008 7:26 am
Malcus Barbattus


The commander spooned the last of of the stew into his mouth
and belched loudly. He patted his fully belly and smiled. The
spirit of the spiced wine was catching up with him and
Barbattus was feeling quite well after a long, tiring day.
There was only one more thing left that he wanted...no,
needed...to do and that was to satisfy the increasing pull of
his groin. Malcus outwardly smiled at the thought, remembering
his previous negotiations with the plump wench.

Brendyn
 
"Sir, Sorry to interrupt, but what time am I to report
to you tomorrow?"


Malcus rolled his eyes upward and stared at Brendyn, his head
spinning just a little bit.

"Are you daft, boy?" the commander yelled. "Didn't I just tell
you the rules? What the fu..."

"Uh...the rotation schedules are posted by each squad
commander in the barracks, Brendyn. Commander Barbattus does
not bother himself with such trivialties once he has created
the rosters. The commander will send word to you if/when he is
ready to see you," Titrus interjected nervously, watching
Barbattus' internal volcano slowly errupting. Titrus knew the
commander well. "Good night, Brendyn," the lieutenant added
with a nod of his head and a shag of his brows toward the
tavern exit.

Barbattus was about to unleash the hounds of hell onto Brendyn
but stopped short when he spotted Alina walk into the tavern.
I remember her, he thought to himself.

"Go," Barbattus said to Brendyn, forgetting his anger and
remembering his lust. Malcus stood up, never taking his eyes
off of Alina, and stretched his long legs. He was only mildly
affected by the wine therefore still in full control of
himself. The commander walked over to Alina and locked onto
her with his dark, penetrating eyes. He got close enough to
her to smell the berry juice in her hair. "It's been a while,"
Malcus said softly in her ear.
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: Kay
Date: Tue Apr 15, 2008 8:02 am
Grace


Grace opened the door to her home and peered out at the
night's sky. The moon and stars were hidden by thick swathes
of cloud and lazy snowflakes meandered down to dust the
ground.

Her mother was sleeping now; the medicine had done its job;and
her sister was curled up asleep on her pallet. Grace closed
the door again and walked across to the small fire burning in
the hearth; she stretched out her hands to warm them. She was
exhausted and her nerves still jangled from her encounter with
the man and his warhorse. Tomorrow she would have to work on
their stall with her sister; their mother would not be fit
enough to do the job. Grace swallowed nervously. She hated the
world outside this little dwelling and even the thought of
venturing out again, filled her with dread.

How pathetic I am, she thought, angrily.

She undressed slowly and laid down on her pallet in the corner
of the room; when sleep finally came, it was filled with
dreams of snarling, bloodied men on white horses.
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golden_trillium

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Author: Darya
Date: Tue Apr 15, 2008 10:39 am
Neeve & Darya


Crystal-blue eyes sparkled when Arthur supported her order for
the First Knight and then shifted from the Sarmatian to the
Commander…then to his lady. Neeve was pretty sure that the
other woman in the room was not Roman…and her accent told the
healer that she was not British either. Thus she could not
help but secretly wonder how those two had met in the first
place… However, that Lancelot as well as this Darya agreed
with one another and with her on where their Commander would
stay for a while made things way easier for Neeve. Not that
she would not do anything in her powers to make Arthur stay
where he was even when the other two had not shared this
opinion…

Lancelot
 
"Goodness. Did someone just agree with me? A banner day.
You should take a cue, commander."


If the situation had not been so serious and frightening for
her, Darya would certainly have commented on those words…but
right now, the dark-haired just shot a sharp glance at her
fellow Sarmatian and remained silent, listening to the
conversation between the other persons in the room, still
gently holding Arthur’s hand in hers.

Arthur
 
“All three of you conspire against me,”


Lancelot
 
"They are very smart women, my friend. Especially for
agreeing with me. They would be foolish not to."


While Darya frowned at Lancelot’s words, Neeve looked up to
meet the knight’s gaze. She pursed her lips as he winked at
her and shook her head in amusement. “Just do not pride
yourself on this, Lancelot…”, the raven-haired then stated in
an almost challenging tone while granting herself a moment to
assess the man a bit closer. At least he was doing what she
had asked him to do and applied some of the scouring rush to
his injury…then even created some kind of makeshift bandage.
“And we’ll get back on this later, won’t we?”, she added with
a nod towards Lancelot’s wound, which now at least did not
bleed anymore… Then Arthur had all her attention. “And I would
not call it conspiring…”, Neeve stated and slightly arched an
eyebrow at the Roman, “…we care for you, Commander…” And with
that the Briton began her work with the needle…

Arthur
 
“I see that you have not lost your gentle touch,”


Neeve smirked slightly but kept her gaze focused on her task
at hand. “You have not seen me being not gentle yet, Arthur…”,
the healer replied and sniffed briefly in concentration, “…you
should be grateful for that.” Then she licked her lips and
once again shut out the world around her…only her hands, the
needle and her patient’s injury were relevant now…

When the healer began to stitch Arthur’s wound, Darya grimaced
visibly when the needle poked her lover’s sore skin again and
again… She squirmed on her chair for a moment, remembering
clearly how Isolde had stitched the injury at her hip after
the first Woad attack the other day. Her hands tensed slightly
about Arthur’s and squeezed the Roman’s hand
gently…compassionately. “It’s almost done…”, she whispered to
the Roman and attempted an assuring smile…which did not quite
reach her eyes.

Blowing a strand of hair out of her face, Neeve worked
quickly, yet accurate…wanting to end the procedure as soon as
possible…for the Commander’s sake. He was the last person she
wanted to torment with the needle longer than necessary.
And then the last stitch was done…the wound sewed up clean and
properly. The Briton blindly reached for a new clean cloth and
carefully dabbed it along the fresh suture…mopping up a bit of
blood as she did so. A fresh herbal paste to soothe the skin
and clean bandages…then the Commander would need a lot of
rest. Straightening her back, the Briton glanced at her
patient. “How are you holding up, Commander?”, she asked,
already pondering which herbs to use for the paste…
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: Elessars Girl
Date: Tue Apr 15, 2008 10:52 am
Derfel


Derfel had watched Linnette go with apprehensive eyes, but he
could hardly force her to stay. Her rather dark remark – or
promise as it were – about not throwing herself from the
ramparts had been difficult to hear. And quite frankly, had
Derfel that much more concerned for Linnette’s safety. He
prayed that she would not do anything rash or foolish in her
current state of shock and mourning. Again, he thought to go
after Linnette….but from behind, Derfel could hear Linnesse
stir on the bed. Torn between his sense of honor (and bound by
the oath he’d made Dagonet to look after Linnette) and the
overpowering need to hold Linnesse again had Derfel’s head
aching. He slowly shut the door and then turned back towards
the bed; a smile graced his weary features despite the turmoil
of emotions in his heart.

Linnesse
 
"If only I wasn't as weak as a kitten,"


“Luv, we both know how strong your sister is…and we will look
after her,” Derfel reassured Linnesse as he came to sit on the
edge of the bed. He reached up and smoothed a hand over her
soft buttery hair and then leaned in to sweetly kiss her lips.

“I missed you,” Derfel whispered breathily against Linnesse’s
soft lips; closing his eyes and simply inhaling her scent.
“I….so much has happened that I….just don’t know where to
start….I love you,” He continued quietly while lightly nudging
his nose against hers.

Derfel slid both arms around Linnesse’s shoulders and
proceeded to place small affectionate kisses across her brow.
Thank the gods she was safe….but he wanted to know what had
happened to her, this sickness she’d suffered in his absence.

“You are better now? Hm?” Derfel murmured while pulling back
enough to look at Linnesse’s beautiful face.
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golden_trillium

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Author: golden_trillium
Date: Tue Apr 15, 2008 1:09 pm
Linnesse


Derfel
 
“Luv, we both know how strong your sister is…and we will
look after her. I missed you. I…so much has happened
that I…just don’t know where to start…I love you."


"Love you too. And you smell wonderful now," Linnesse
murmurred tenderly, accepting his kisses as she scattered her
own over his cheek wherever she could reach- well, those reach
without too much effort, admittedly. The tiredness throughout
her body still weighed her down, though Derfel's attentions
made it much more pleasant. She took a deep breath of his
now-clean masculine scent as he pulled away slightly- she had
never thought of that particular detail of having him around,
but come to find out, she missed it a lot!

Derfel
 
"You are better now? Hm?”


"Mmmmhmmm." Linnesse smiled at him and snugged her arm over to
his waist, resting it there on his waistband, bringing them
closer together in a comfortable, contented embrace.

"There was a fever- it started just after you left. A few
died, but most recovered. I must have caught it from the
patients. Linnette hardly left my side." Linnesse shrugged, a
troubled shadow passing over her face- it was a sad thing, and
had been a close thing for her, but still, she didn't want to
linger on her illness now. It was over, or nearly so, once she
had regained some strength, and she suddenly had more
important things to think about, much more to be strong for
than ever before. And Derfel had told her that he had much to
tell her, too...

"How did things go for you? How's your leg?" She lifted her
small, pale hand up to touch his cheek, just lightly and
briefly, before letting her hand rest on his waist again- her
body seemed to be half-melted into the soft mattress and
Derfel's warmth.








Merlin

Guinevere
 
"Yes, Father. Sleep well, Father."


"And you, Guinevere," Merlin replied fervently, returning his
daughter's hug and kiss. She was going into danger again- and
though Merlin was very convinced both of the rightness of that
cause, and of Guinevere's skill and ability to take care of
herself, moments like this were always a bit nerve-wracking.
Part of being a parent- one of the gifts of the Gods.

Merlin turned to Connell, taking a breath to thank him for his
help and wish him a good night, too, before returning to Juna-
he could see her, standing just outside the circle of one of
the fires over on the other side of the big clearing- when
another figure detached itself from the growing shadows under
the trees and came towards him. It was Mona, an urgent and
determined expression on her face- as if she had just made up
her mind to tell him something that had been weighing on her
mind.

Mona
 
"Merlin, before the others depart on their mission,
there is something I must tell you about Neeria."


The Woad leader stiffened on hearing Mona's words. Something
about Neeria? It impacted this rescue, then- that much he
could easily tell. Merlin turned a little away from Connell-
though he did not actually make a move to dismiss him-
creating a little privacy for himself and Mona with their
shoulders, close together.

"Speak," he urged her, in a low voice, his head bent
attentively as he listened to what she would say.
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