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April 2008
Topic Started: Nov 5 2009, 10:37 PM (3,964 Views)
golden_trillium

Admin
Author: LadyCastus
Date: Thu Apr 24, 2008 7:36 am
Malcus Barbattus


Malcus looked down at the sniveling man and felt no remorse at
all. He deserved the punishment Malcus bestowed upon him.
Malcus was quite sure that given another opportunity, the foul
guard would keep his dick in his pants and not think of
violating anyone again.

"Stop your sniveling!" Malcus said angrily, "Your cries for
mercy fall on deaf ears. Never betray your duties or me again.
Next time, if you so dare sir to do this again, there will be
no justice for you, only death." The commander then grabbed a
towel and wiped his hands of the man's blood and walked out of
the cell. "You're free to go back to the barracks - if you can
- but you will report for duty - on time - tomorrow." There
was no verbal response, only sobs, coming from the small room.

As Barbattus walked down the narrow passageway, Titrus and
Lucius entered the dungeons. Both men saluted. Malcus noticed
Lucius' pallor but said nothing about it.

"Right on time," Barbattus said, "Let's gather the prisoners
and get them ready for transport." Barbattus snatched up a
blanket that he'd brought along after being told of the naked
woad child locked in the farthest cell. He also had leg irons
and chains ready for them as well just in case he needed them.
Just because they were females meant nothing to the Roman.
They were still prisoners.

The commander loosed the big ring of keys from around his hip
and unlocked the cell holding Neeria. The woman sat in her
cell with the blanket pulled around her, staring into space.
"She should be no problem," Malcus said to the men then moved
a few cell doors down. Stopping at another door, the commander
turned around and looked at the two of them.

"Titrus, come. You and I will handle this one. She's a child
and injured pretty badly but I'm told she's quite wild and
very dangerous. I don't want to hurt her but if she's
uncontrollable, kill her. Arthur wants the other one alive,
but there is no such order for this one."

While Lucius tended to Neeria, Barbattus unlocked the cell
door and steadied himself to face the wild looking creature
that stared at him.
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: Elessars Girl
Date: Thu Apr 24, 2008 10:30 am

Arthur


Darya
 
“Even if this kills you? ….even if…”


“I will be fine, Darya,” Arthur softly reassured his lover
while gently giving her fingers an affectionate squeeze. Darya
then took the empty mug from Arthur’s hand while the Roman
finally lay back on the bed. The stubborn Roman mostly ignored
Neeve’s further comments about taking plenty of time to rest
and recover…Arthur had no time for that. But he knew the
Briton and long time friend only had his best interests in
mind, much as both Darya and Lancelot also seemed to feel it
necessary to coddle Arthur tonight.

Lancelot
 
"He'll be good - don't worry. Ow… Fucking Woads."


Arthur frowned and inwardly rolled his eyes at Lancelot’s
comment. The first knight was fortunate that Arthur had no
strength left to argue tonight….apparently; as the herbals in
the tea were beginning to work. Arthur yawned and attempted to
settle at feeling one of them lift the leg he’d left dangling
over the edge of the bed to situate the Roman fully on the
mattress. It frustrated Arthur to require so much attention
from the three of them, but at least he had finally realized
that it was for the best. At least for one night. He prayed
that Merlin would have mercy and refrain from striking
again….not while Arthur was too weak to face the Woad leader
himself. The Commander did not doubt the abilities of his
officers, but Arthur knew how to deal with Merlin the best.

Neeve
 
“Well, there is indeed not much we can do for our
Commander now. He needs sleep…and rest. I’ll make sure
he gets some hot soup later, which should help his body
to recover strength…”


Lancelot
 
"Indeed you must. Sleep, Arthur. I will have a page sent
to inform the Optio of your condition."


“My condition?” Arthur sighed and briefly thought on what
exactly he’d want Scipio to be told for now. “Send a message
that I am resting comfortably tonight and that I will receive
him first thing in the morning…I want a full report on the
attacks from him and Malcus at sun up,” He finished without
uncovering his eyes to actually make eye contact with Lancelot
or the women present.

Lancelot
 
"Sleep,"


A touch on Arthur’s leg, light yet caring, had the Roman
removing his arm from over his eyes at last. He met Lancelot’s
concerned gaze with weary albeit appreciative eyes. And almost
simultaneously, Darya’s slender fingers brushed at Arthur’s
brow after she had sufficiently covered his body with a
blanket. His freshly stitched side still ached and despite
being dressed in only his trousers, Arthur felt uncomfortably
warm. The fever surely persisted, but Neeve had reassured that
the tea would help reduce it.

Neeve
 
“Speaking of sleep…the way you two look, this is exactly
what you need as well… The night’s pretty much over
already…yet it would do good to everyone to get a nap
and to wash I would say…”


“Lancelot, you will allow Neeve to see to that arm now, my
friend,” Arthur said in a tone that brooked no argument. He
then turned to look at Darya and reached up to cup at her
cheek.

“You look tired…sleep here with me, hm?” Arthur whispered to
Darya, suddenly feeling guilty for having both her and
Lancelot in the room while he attempted to rest. And again,
Arthur thought he saw something in Darya’s eyes….something
unsettling. But whatever Neeve had placed in his tea seemed to
be working quite well now…Arthur’s lids were quite heavy and
he finally wanted to give in to sleep. It had been days since
the Roman had taken more than an hour or two of rest….his hand
slid from Darya’s jaw and Arthur allowed his eyes to drift
shut.
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: Pinkie
Date: Thu Apr 24, 2008 2:09 pm
Mari


Mari wasn't able to define the look that Milan gave her. She
couldn't say that he was smitten with her, couldn't translate
it in her head that he was adoring her at that very moment.
All Mari could recognise was how it made her feel. She felt
warm when his eyes peered at her like that, she felt light,
her eyes felt brighter, wider. It was a good feeling and she
gave Milan the faintest, sweetest smiles in thanks.

Milan
 
"Neck... Chest."


She was trying to focus on how he said the words but his
touch, the contact of his skin against hers at such a
sensitive spot like her neck made focussing quite difficult.
Mari dropped her eyes, looking at her chest when he gestured
to it and she gave a lopsided smile. Her soulful brown eyes
peered upwards at Milan though she kept her chin tilted
downwards a little.

"Girl. Boy." she said, pointing at him when she said boy,
"Woman... " she thumbed to herself, "Man..." Mari finished,
keeping her thumb inwardly pointing to hereslf and extending
her index finger to point at Milan. It made her skin tingle
and her stomach do a little flip to refer to herself as a
woman, and a woman to Milan's 'man' too.

"You're getting quite good at this. Tell me you want to learn
more...?" Mari asked hopefully - hoping that he wuold want to
learn more and that he would actually ask her in a full
sentence! She was aware that the room was beginning to lighten
around them but she felt such peace laying there with Milan
that the thoughts of moving right now were completely
unwelcome!









Catherine

Tristan
 
"After noon meal?"


Victory!

It was the first thought that clattered around Catherine's
head. The next thought was how she was possibly going to draw
this man to a point where he might speak willingly. Every
utterance from his lips seemed forced, it seemed ... unwilling
at least. But she would not let that bother her right now. Her
smile was radiant, her eyes brightening with the promise of
mischief as Tristan looked her up and down.

It was funny to note that he looked at her so critically. He
had sharp eyes, as a scout aught to, and Catherine felt their
heat now. Every loose thread in her clothing would have been
spotted by those eyes, every rumple in her skirt, every faint
laughter line about her pretty eyes ... Suddenly she felt her
stomach tighten, her back straighten and her head lift -
making a more perfect image of herself for him to peruse.

Tristan made a motion to his coin pouch but Catherine did not
look at that. She found the more practical sides of her job to
be rather embarrassing and rathered she did not have to think
on it too much. So her confident green eyes never left
Tristan's face, though her lips puckered in acknowledgement,
giving her a rather superior looking attitude to money. As if
she was not in this line of work for the money alone. Which,
technically she wasn't. Her mother, on the other hand, was.

Tristan
 
"Down there?"


The blonde tossed her head as she looked over her shoulder to
where he gestured. A coy smile tugged her lips as she nodded
her head in ascent, wondering if he intended on taking her out
in the open, or perhaps in the stables. He seemed the type to
enjoy the outdoors more than most. Perhaps that applied to the
demands of his libido too.

"After noon meal." Catherine affirmed, looking back at
Tristan. She pushed off from the wall and dipped him a half
curtsey, meeting his eyes with a sultry set to her pretty lips
as she rose. Of course such a gesture was not necessary but
she wanted to see if he liked it, trying to discover what kind
of lover he wanted in her. "No boundaries. No rules." the
whore told him with a wink, turning on her heel. She put a
hand to the edge of her hood and peered around it at Tristan
before starting to descend the steps, watching her every
footfall cautiously. The last thing she needed was to fall in
the muck and have to bathe again. Though that might not be a
bad idea in itself ...









Saoirse

Dagonet
 
"You're... right"


There was no pride in being told that in these moments.
Saoirse knew she was right. But she also knew that being right
would not make this any easier for Dagonet. Hell, it would not
make it any easier for herself. And oh her selfish nature
ensured she would not feel pride! Her upset was not so much
that Gedeon had died, but that her lover's son had died, that
her lover was so broken. She would miss Gedeon and thought it
an incredible loss, for certain, but she could not deny that
she was so relieved that it was nto Dagonet who had died...
Selfish, stupid selfish!

Dagonet
 
"I've wanted... to stay... I've wanted to die back
there, Saoirse. The only thing.. that kept me from..
giving up was... Gawain's and Derfel's voices
telling..me that you are here...."


"No." Saoirse's voice was barely audible as she protested
Dagonet's wish to have died back there. She shook her head,
teary eyes snapping open to look intently at the Knight, her
gaze warning him not to mean what he had just said. In her
mind she made a note to thank Gawain and Derfel personally for
bringing Dagonet out of the mire he had been in, for ensuring
he did come back - even if it was to face this utter hell
without his son.

Dagonet
 
"That I need to.. return.. to be there for you... To be
there for others... To go on... To be strong. I am not
strong.. not anymore. Where's. Where is the point.. of
living now? All I have is pain..."


The agony of listening to his misery was telling in Saoirse's
eyes. She wanted all these things to be said from him now, now
when the pain was raw for she would not stand for such things
later when he was better. The red head understood that he
suffered and suffered terribly, but she would not have him
wishing death upon himself. Not when he did have more than
pain in his life, even now.

"Me, love. Y've me." Saoirse said quickly, blinking back the
tears, whispering to him with her eyes closed, opening them to
see his reaction, then closing them again as she continued.
The hand on his chest moved downwards, her fingers curling
into Dagonet's hand, holding it tightly. "An' we've a whole
future t'gether. You won't always be in service t'Rome,
Dagonet. When all this is done me an' you can start a real
life t'gether. We can have our own home. Maybe not here -
maybe somewhere else. Somewhere on the coast, somewhere tha'll
not remind us of any o'this. Ye have so much t'live fer,
Dagonet." Saoirse exhaled, bowing her head so that her
forehead rested on Dagonet's, her lips brushing his gently.

"Ye have me an' I love you an' I'll not hear ye say tha' ye
don't have tha' love anymore. Ye know ye do. And always will."









Galahad

Alina
 
"I'm sorry, I've been under alot of stress lately, with
my cousin gone, everything that happened while you were
away.. And, being away from you, That hurt the most.
I've been so lost, Galahad. I still feel like I
am...even now..."


Galahad suddenly felt very bad for pushing Alina. When she
came over to take his hand, his wide eyes watched her, looking
from his hand to her lips and then to her eyes. She looked
every bit as sorrowful as she sounded and all the knight
wanted to do was to take her back into his lap and kiss away
her pain. When she said that missing him had hurt the most,
Galahad couldn't help but feel... well, not happiness, but he
felt appreciated. That she missed him so much...

"I'm back now sweetheart." he murmured to her, rising to his
feet and wrapping his arms about her shoulders. He bowed his
head over hers, kissing her crown. She felt warm against his
bare chest, but she also felt like she was trembling, as if
her heart was racing. Galahad sighed, withdrawing a little to
look down into her face, offering her a small, boyish smile.
"Everything will go back to normal now - like I was never
gone. Nothing's changed - it's still you and it's still me,
alright? Maybe ... maybe you should go lie down hmm? Get some
more rest?" the Sarmatian said with a hopeful smile, as if his
words were making what he said fact. He nodded his head
towards the bed...









Eala

Something was happening.

Eala's black eyes were huge. As soon as she saw shadows moving
outside she withdrew to the very back of her cell, hunkered
there, favouring her wounded side a little. She didn't look
like a girl in pain though - her posture was stiff, of course.
And her shoulder looked all wrong, not to mention the bruises
and grazes. But the attentive look about her face, the
severity of her expression, it just didn't make much sense
considering her physical hurts. It was fear that was making
her stand, fear that was making her feet move, readying
herself for whatever was to come.

The shadows moved off and Eala perceived a noise. She cocked
her head to the side, trying to hear clearer but she was
unable to pick up anything else. Her fingers flexed, her hand
slapping against her bare chest instinctively reaching for the
knives that were not there. The shadows were coming back.

The torchlight outside illuminated a man.

Eala snarled at him, hissing like a wild animal and backed off
another two steps, her feet crossing over each other like a
stalking predator. Black eyes peered intently at the broad
shouldered male. His lips moved as he spoke and Eala's face
became intent, trying to make some sense out of what he said
by reading his mouth. It was hard, she didn't know this man,
didn't know how he normaly looked when speaking, but she
managed to decipher 'dangerous, kill, alive' and something
about an order. None of it made much sense to Eala, but did it
need to?

This was her enemy.

This was a Roman.

Eala hated Romans.

The very look of him was pompous and invasive to EAla. Though
he didn't look as pompous as the bastard that had put her on
his horse the night before.

The little blonde hissed again, her little nose wrinkling up
with the savage expression. She made a faint move forward,
stomping her booted foot, heedless of her nudity, uncaring of
it in fact. Another man joined the first and he made to move
inside of her cell. Eala snarled, her frantic, wild eyes
shifting from one man to the other. And for all the fear she
felt inside she did not look like a terrified young child.









Amadeus

Amadeus had been rather disheartened to receive the message
from Arthur that he would see him in the morning. A more
heartening message to Amadeus would have said something about
Arthur needing him to come to his rooms now that he did not
think he would live out the night. Now tht would have cheered
him greatly. However, this opportunity would have to suffice.

He awoke feeling stiff. Pain throbbed everywhere in his body,
unused to proper fighting as he was. His arm felt the worst
for it had been so long since he had used a sword in a proper
battle. Amadeus prefered to be a tactician, he prefered
dictating from the sidelines and allowing more disposable men
to risk their lives on the battlefield.

Rowan's room was not as comfortable as his own, so once awake
Amadeus made his way to his own room. He prodded the fire to
get a blaze, then set about washing and shaving. His armour
was in bad need of a polish and so he set his man to it.

Once dressed, the Optio glanced at himself in teh polished
metal that he used as a mirror. Rowan had a real mirror but he
didn't want t go back into that room just yet... His hair was
in a messy toussel atop his head and the Optio flicked his
long fingers at the dangling strands. He pursed his lips and
sighed, flopping down in a chair thinking a moment. He felt an
unnatural tiredness in his bones, as if he had not slept at
all though he had. And well too.

There was too much to be done for him to find rest in his
sleep though.

He had a fort to take over.

He had men to make fall into his side.

He had plans to make.

He had a commander to bring down and almost a score of
Sarmatians to do away with.

If any could be convinced to serve him under his rules then
maybe he would keep one or two. But Amadeus knew enough of
Sarmatians to know that these would not acept his rules. He
would not be lenient on them. He would rule them with an iron
fist which is what Arthur should have been using in the first
place.

Snorting, Amadeus got to his feet and brushed his hands down
the thick tunic he would wear beneath his armour which was now
polished. He stood as his man strapped it onto his chest,
pulling on his own gauntlets as he walked out the door, making
his way to Arthur's room for his meeting with the Commander.
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: Unicorn
Date: Thu Apr 24, 2008 2:26 pm
Dagonet


Saoirse
 
"No."


Dagonet swallowed roughly as he heard that simple word and saw
the look in her eyes. He did not mean to make her react this
way. He didn't want to see these emotions in her. Gods! Why
this all had to be so hard?

He returned... and saw how much mistake would he made if he
would indeed stay there, laying on the battlefield with his
wound oppened, bleeding... dying. He would make her hurt even
further! And in that moment he was so greatful to Gawain and
Derfel for bringing him back... for Gawain to hold him not to
fall and Derfel to give him so much support, both physically
and mentaly.

Her eyes were so gentle, yet so hurted.. Teary. Dagonet
watched her with his chest so thight and hurted. Even so he
was glad he had told her of the matter now.... That he let it
out. And well he almost died back there... that night when he
got high fever and was delirous... But he held on to his life
just for the sake of Saoirse.. and Linnette and her child..
Not for himself.

This world was pure torture... This life was giving him only
pain and vrief moments of happiness... Only brief moments...
like meeting Saoirse, making love to her, like Gedeon
returning to him, like Gedeon getting married, like Saoirse
back in his arms.

But it was only brief moments of happiness. What happened to
real happiness he should feel?

Saoirse
 
"Me, love. Y've me. An' we've a whole future t'gether.
You won't always be in service t'Rome, Dagonet. When all
this is done me an' you can start a real life t'gether.
We can have our own home. Maybe not here - maybe
somewhere else. Somewhere on the coast, somewhere tha'll
not remind us of any o'this. Ye have so much t'live fer,
Dagonet."


Dagonet listened to her.. and felt his chest thighten even
more in pain, new tears coming to his eyes. She said it... He
had hers... They should have hope... Service to Rome... he was
long as a slave to Rome that he almost forgett how it is to
live a normal life, with freedom. How freedom tasted? How it
felt? Would he be able to live normal life?

When this is done... but when? There were years before his
duty is finished... And he could die any moment.

Home...

This word echoed in his mind and heart for a longer moment.
Where was his place in this world? Could he build a new home
and be happy there? This dream of freedom and having a real
home was so long lost.... lost in his boyish dreams... fools
dreams.

He felt his eyes close for moment in his weakened state and
felt Saoirse's forehead touch his. Gods how he wanted just to
slip away and hide from everything to have her only in his
arms. Her lips brushed over his and he instinctively tasted
her lips with his own, kissed her gently... This mere movement
made his heart ache for her deeper.

Saoirse
 
"Ye have me an' I love you an' I'll not hear ye say tha'
ye don't have tha' love anymore. Ye know ye do. And
always will."


He oppened his eyes and looked into hers as she held his large
hand thightly in her tiny one. He shook his head slowly and
with much effort rised his upper body slightly of the bed to
look deep into her eyes, deeper than before.

"I want this love... always has... always will" he uttered in
a low whisper.

He allowed himself another few tears and felt his shoulders
giving up to overwhelming weakness.... slumping back to the
bed with a wince.

"I want to be... happy..." he said with closed eyes, and
squeezed Saoirse hand as much as he could, but due to his
weakness it must have been only a small tug... "I want to
have... home... I want to have you.. I want this love" he said
silently and oppened his eyes to look at her face.

"But there is death and pain written in me.... Saoirse" he
admitted. "I don't know... how to deal with them...."

But still there was a little doze of hope as she said that he
had her love. Corners of his mouth twitched... She loved him.
She wanted to stay with him for the rest of her life.

"Wake me..." he uttered. "Wake me from this nightmare,
Saoirse... Wake me from this pain... I can't stand it
anymore... Shake it off me. Please.. do anything that this all
would go away... this fear and guilt. Everything. Please make
me breath fully again..." he was crying again and bowed his
head to slid it further agaisnt her shoulder and neck. His arm
went to her waist and tried to pull her closer to him. "Just
say this will be alright..."

His fingers dug into her shoulder slightly...

"No father should bury his son... And I can't even do it." he
exlaimed in his low voice suddenly. "There was no body... no
body. I don't even know if he found peace... I can't speak
with the gods. Not anymore. I've lost them also..."
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: lady ione
Date: Thu Apr 24, 2008 3:13 pm
Ione


As she made her way throught the dim light of morning toward
her shop, Ione had only thoughts of Javier drifting into her
mind....plus the act that she had given into with
Mirtha...plus the fact that she had not had a cycle in almost
a month or so. The winter dawn was breaking as she arrived at the shop, and stopped at the broken door before stepping inside. Cloaks and blankets were strewn about and the chairs and table were over turned...and skeins of yarn were unraveled and lie tangled on the floor. Ione knew she'd have to get a carpenter in here to help with some repairs....

Stepping inside, she closed the half hinged door as best as
she could, before turning to assess what needed to be done
first. Dark eyes traveled to the small room and memories of
the first kiss she and Javier had exchanged came back to
her...the whole place reminded her of him and she felt hot
tears sting her eyes. She had lost Thorn, Javier was gone, and
Adian was missing....

Suddenly, Ione ran out of the house, around the corner, and
vomited. It was a good thing no one was there to see her as
she did so. Finishing, Ione felt a tad better, and went back
inside, closed the door as best as she could and latched it
securly, before heading over to the small room where the
unused basin of fresh, cold water sat with a clean towel. The
one thing she was glad of was that someone had removed the two
dead woads from the shop....

Ione closed the door, and undressed to give herself a
refreshingly cold bath...wiping away all of the dirt and grim
she had accumulated since she arrived....
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: Pinkie
Date: Thu Apr 24, 2008 3:18 pm
Drake


Drake would not look back on his time at Badon Hill with
regret. The regret was in leaving actually. He looked at the
wooden door of Alina's room, his thick fingers rubbing the
parchment letter he was about to slide in under it to let her
know that he was gone. It seemed wrong to do it like this but
she was reunited with Galahad now no doubt. Or she was with
Kolya. Either possibility was something he did not want to
disturb and so he decided this was best.

Last night he had admitted to himself that he had let things
go too far here. He had been good at compartmentalising his
life before. He had operated without engaging his heart and he
had prevented himself from hurting and frmo hurting other
people. But something here had changed him. It had made him
feel again. And that was never good to a man who had sworn to
cut off his feelings. Feelings led to hurt. His dead wife and
brother were testament to that. His children...

No, he would not think of them now.

Hunkering, Drake slid the paper under Alina's door and
shrugged his saddlebags higher on his shoulder. His face was
severe, his bottle green eyes looking down to the ground as he
walked the corridor, pushed open the door and until the cold
wind hit him. Drake blew out a breath, looking up at the
miserable scene before him. It was a stupid time of year to
start travelling but he felt that he had little in the way of
options.

Remaining at Badon Hill was not possible now. Not when things
had gotten so far. Not when his feelings had clawed out of the
dark recesses of his body. She didn't need him here. And if he
was to be brutally honest with himself, and Drake was now, she
had never needed him. Lifting a hand to wipe his upper lip,
Drake's face turned darker and he stepped out into teh rain.
He walked towards the stables slowly, perusing the place,
trying to convince himself that he didn't need to tell Cassidy
and Fleur. He cuold only hope that Cassidy got some
satisfaction out of him leaving like she had said he would.

Drake got half way to the stables when he spotted a rather
lost looking messenger. He was standing at the stables looking
around rather bewildered. The Spaniard walked past him and got
to Fides' stall before he turned back.

"Who are you looking for boy?" the ex-soldier growled.
The messenger jumped, turning to look at Drake with hope in
his blue eyes.

"A woman, sir. Arthur Castus wants to speak to her but she is
not in her room and ... I don't know where else to look. No
one was in her room." the boy admitted. Drake cocked his
eyebrow, then rolled his eyes.

"Try where she works you fool." he mumbled, bewildered that he
could not figure that out himself.

"I don't know where she works, sir."

"Her name."

"Linnette."

Silence.

Drake looked at the boy with narrowed eyes. His head was in
turmoil. His jaw tensed to a point where his teeth should have
shattered. Licking his lips stiffly, the Spaniard extended his
calloused hand, wiggling his fingers.

The boy smiled in relief and rushed forward, handing the
notice of summons to Drake before bowing, whispering thanks,
and ran off.

Drake felt a fool once the paper hit his hand. He scratched
the back of his neck and resolutely stalked out of teh
stables, with his saddlebags still over his shoulders.

After a short time he found himself feeling an even greater
fool. Linnette was nowhere to be seen. He had tried her room,
her husband's room, he had tried the tavern and the infirmary
but all had come up with no sign or tell of the red-head. A
kindling of worry kept trying to ignite in Drake's chest,
worry for her safety. But he ruthlessly quenched it. Why worry
when she was with her husband? The thoughts of finding her
with him were almost as bad as the thoughts of not finding her
at all. And just as he was abotu to give up he looked up.

It was pure chance that the wind blew a lock of her hair
forward, long enough to drift over the grey wall at just the
very second Drake looked up at the ramparts. His eyebrows
twitched together and he set forward before thinking. His
boots made little noise on the steps - once at the top Drake
breathed out heavily, looking towards Linnette. She was ...

... alone?

Linnette cut a sorry image. Sat on the gruond, her head bowed,
her plaited hair falling out of it's normally neat braids. Her
cloak fluttered in the breeze but ... she was alone? Drake
felt a heaviness in his heart for seeing her like this, so
pitiful. He frowned, looking formidable, looking
indestructible, untouchable as he stepped forward, warily.
There was something terribly wrong here.

"Linnette... " he said her name in a deep, gravelly tone,
coming down onto one knee across from her, his head dipped to
try see her face, one hand clutching his knee, the other
clutching his thigh to keep from reaching out to touch her
auburn hair.
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golden_trillium

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Author: golden_trillium
Date: Thu Apr 24, 2008 5:28 pm

Tristan


Catherine
 
"After noon meal. No boundaries. No rules."


She dropped him a curtsy, a subservient, respectful one- or it
would have been had her lips not been set in that alluring
pout. Very deliberate, that had to be. She knew her trade
well, this one- and that was what Tristan wanted. Someone who
knew what to do, and would not confuse this for something
other than what it was. He returned her curtsy with a nod,
just deep enough that it could be considered a cursory bow-
maybe- but with no words. Business was taken care of for now-
he would see her later.

He was faintly amused to note the way she picked her way
carefully down the steps, as though afraid she would slip and
fall or something. Women- worriers, the lot of them. Shaking
his head, Tristan continued on his way down the wall, thinking
to stay up here just a few minutes more. Perhaps he would walk
as far as the corner stairs, then go down there and get to
work with Tirgatao in the stable.

It seemed like as good a plan as any. However, a short
distance past the stairs that the blonde whore had descended,
he came across, unexpectedly, another female figure, leaning
on the parapet, looking out. By Hadrian's balls, was the
entire female population of the fort taking in the view today?

"Little Woad," he greeted this one under his breath as he
passed behind her, a small smirk settling onto his face. It
was Fiona, daughter of Merlin and would-be non-warrior, gazing
out at the land of her birth, at the place where her father
was no doubt cooking up some new mischief. He had also once
defeated Fiona, or as good as. Last spring, he had come across
her on a scouting trip, and had had every opportunity to kill
her. Maybe he should have. But those had been the days when he
had been with Einin, and grown soft, maybe, and she had looked
so young he had let her go. Maybe he should not have. But in
any case, she was a mere child to him, of absolutely no threat
or consequence- but still, he felt better letting her know
that he saw her, and knew her. These Woads, no matter how much
a few of them claimed to want peace, couldn't be allowed to
roam around unchecked. They had to be kept wary- in their
place.












Linnette

She felt the approach of someone, knew without even looking up
that someone was there. She could also tell- just by the
tread, the feel of things, that the person was male, and that
it was not Gedeon. The presence was heavier than that,
somehow, slower-moving and more cautious. She did not think it
was Derfel, or Tristan returning, either. Maybe it was one of
the guards come either to ask if she was all right, or to
order her to leave the wall. No matter; in any case, she could
not summon up the energy to care. She remained sitting there
with her head down, the wind intermittently plucking at her
rumpled hair and at the edges of her cloak, as the person
crouched down- but as he spoke, she looked up.

Drake
 
"Linnette..."


Drake. Drake. The sight of him, looking concernedly, yet
frowningly, at her, like a stone that had somehow developed a
hint of emotion around its edges, brought back a flood of
feelings all over again. She had come to depend on him for
rather a lot of help while Gedeon was gone- she had, she
thought, projected too much of her feelings for her husband
onto Drake- but he wasn't Gedeon. He wasn't Gedeon. And seeing
him here, like this, was almost like having half of Gedeon
here, but only half, and knowing that she would never, never
get the whole again.

"D..." she tried to say his name, only to greet him, but
already her face was screwing up in involuntary contortions,
tears were welling up in her eyes, and the lump in her throat
was taking on gigantic proportions. She couldn't continue.
Even if there had been anything to say, she was now utterly
incapable of speaking it. She was crying again, big, heaving
sobs now, and she quickly buried her face in her hands again,
drew a corner of her cloak up to partially obscure it from his
gaze that was almost like a tangible thing. She scrunched
tighter into a ball, drawing in on herself, almost as if she
could disappear into the join between the parapet and the
rampart floor. If she could have done just that, in fact, she
probably would have. If she didn't exist anymore, it wouldn't
hurt like this- and maybe, just maybe, she could be with
Gedeon then.
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golden_trillium

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Author: Starbelle
Date: Thu Apr 24, 2008 5:44 pm
Tatiana


Entering the stables, she headed over in the direction where
the stall that held Orion was located. Getting a few different
types of brushes, she spent some time bushing his mane and
coat out, then going over his tail, mentally going over the
very enjoyable time that she'd spent with Brendyn in her mind.

Sensing that his mistress was in a different mood than usual,
he turned his head and whickered quietly, gently nuzzling her
hair. Once done and the brushes were replaced in their places,
she patted him, leaving a sugar cube behind in his treat tray
before going about her usual tasks.

Once they were finished and she'd put everything away nicely
and gotten herself cleaned up..she planned to head down to the
tavern for lunch, with a few stops to make on the way first.
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golden_trillium

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Author: Lancelot
Date: Thu Apr 24, 2008 6:36 pm

Lancelot


Arthur
 
“Send a message that I am resting comfortably tonight
and that I will receive him first thing in the morning…I
want a full report on the attacks from him and Malcus at
sun up."


"Yes, yes," Lancelot answered, and walked to the door, his
body beginning to sieze up from all the activity he'd had in
the past few days. He stuck his head outside the door again,
scaring the same small page that he'd sent to get Neeve. He
passed on Arthur's message, and came back inside, just in time
to have both Neeve and Arthur chide him about his arm.

Neeve and Arthur
 
“Which should give us plenty of time to have a closer look at that…don’t you think?”

“Lancelot, you will allow Neeve to see to that arm now, my friend."


"Hadrian's balls! Fine," Lancelot grumbled; but if it would
make Arthur leave him the fuck alone - so be it. It was only a
damned scratch.

He tore his borrowed tunic over his head and moodily sat,
holding the fabric in his hands as Neeve checked over his arm.
"It's fine. Honestly - ow. Fuck." He gritted his teeth as the
woman examined him. The chair he was sitting in was
comfortable - too comfortable, and Lancelot found himself
trying to doze off. His head snapped forward a few times, each
motion forcing his eyes open again.

Arthur
 
“You look tired…sleep here with me, hm?”


Lancelot flushed, despite himself, and cursed in his native
tongue under his breath, hoping the others would think it was
his arm that caused it. This was too awkward by far. He wanted
to get up and leave; Arthur and Darya obviously needed the
time alone, but when he looked at Arthur again, sick and
collapsed in a heap on his bed, not even bothering to change
out of his riding pants, Lancelot found he couldn't leave the
other man alone. Well, not alone, but....

Damn it all.

That fucking Optio better have a good explanation for what had
happened - and it would be better for Lancelot to stay here,
in Arthur's quarters, so he wouldn't miss Scipio's entrance,
as it were. Knowing the snotty bastard, he'd try and have a
conversation with just Arthur - and would probably end up just
wearing the commander out. And then Arthur would try and ride
to see Merlin himself...and then Lancelot would have to kill
Scipio, if only for honor's sake. Yes, that was it. Therefore,
Lancelot was staying in Arthur's rooms, despite Darya's
presence. His kinswoman would just have to understand.

He nodded again, as if to himself, and his eyes closed as
sleep overcame him, even as Neeve was still tending to him.
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golden_trillium

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Author: LadyCastus
Date: Thu Apr 24, 2008 7:06 pm
Malcus Barbattus


Malcus Cicero Barbattus was an officer in the Roman Army and
had seen a lot of shit over the course of his military career.
But the sight before him when he swung open the heavy cell
door still startled him.

What the fuck is that? his mind screamed. Standing before him,
in the corner of the stinky cell was a young girl - completely
naked. Her hair was about her head, matted to her skull and
she was filthy. But even underneath her filth, Malcus could
see her bruises. She looked insane, absolutely mad, with her
eyes wide and she steadily rocked back and forth on each foot.
She was bent over in a panther-like stance and looked ready to
pounce.

"Careful," Barbattus said to Titrus as they both blocked the
door to the cell.

The young woad seemed completely oblivous to the fact that she
was totally nude and neither her physical condition nor
condition of the cell seemed to phase her.

"I am Barbattus," the commander said, "I'm going to take you
to a healer to have your injuries tended to."

Nothing. The girl didn't acknowledge him at all. She just kept
rocking back and forth looking crazy.

"Do you understand? I'm not going to hurt you, so don't resist
me. If you do resist me or try to hurt me in any way, I will
restrain you without pause!" Malcus yelled across the room.

"Come," the commander said to Titrus, who gathered up the
chains in his hands as both men crossed the threshold toward
the girl.

Suddenly, the girl seemed to growl or gurgle, making some
animal-like noise and crouched lower.

"Do whatever you must do to protect yourself, lieutenant,"
Malcus ordered. Titrus nodded and took another step forward

Just then, the girl pounced and jumped right into Titrus with
her arms flailing and legs kicking. Titrus grabbed the feral,
deranged child by her hair and tried to pull her off him. Then
he released a blood- curdling scream.

"FUCK!" Malcus cursed as he also sprang into action.
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golden_trillium

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Author: linnet
Date: Thu Apr 24, 2008 7:49 pm
Juna


Merlin
 
"It's all right."


Merlin’s voice was gentle and soothing as he moved to place
himself partly over Juna. His body pressing toward her guided
hers to lie back. Her heartbeat had quickened and her eyes
stayed open, watching him. There could now be no question what
he intended. Her mind was a nervous cauldron of fear that she
would prove inadequate, doubts that she would know how to
please him. But every kiss that he left as his mouth traveled
from her face downward, washed away a piece of the
uncertainty. Every touch of his hand that slid upward from her
waist, made the doubts irrelevant. Her body knew what it
wanted, and it took over.

Her breathing became ragged, and soft sounds of pleasure
purred from her throat as his kisses sent warm rays of
wonderful sensation drifting through her entire body. Her
hands reached for him caressing his face, his neck, the back
of his head as his mouth neared her breast. He touched her
thigh, just below where her skirt had worked its way up while
she slept. She let him move her legs apart, raising one
slightly at the knee. ‘Merlin,” she said softly so that he
would look at her. She placed her hands on his shoulders and
pulled him closer so that her mouth could reach his
collarbone, his neck, and his mouth. She kissed him with a
hunger she had never felt. Her body seemed to almost levitate
upwards to meet his, arousing her every nerve. She looked into
his deep eyes. “I have wanted you for so long,” she said, with
open feeling and a touch of sadness.
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: lady ione
Date: Thu Apr 24, 2008 8:56 pm

Brendyn


So far the morning was freezing cold, and Brendyn had not had
time to eat yet, but he didn't want to be late for guard duty
either. According tot he roster, he saw that he was, indeed on
guard duty, but in the dungeons. If they were anything like
the dungeons at Aesica, then this would be exciting. Brendyn
wrapped his cloak about his body, and walked over to the
stairs leading to the dungeons...

...the first thing always to hit him was the smells: rancid
and dank, moist and moldy, urine and fecal matter. He was use
to it....somehwat. Thoughts of Tatiana's face drifted into his
mind adding a bit of sunshine to the scene that met his eyes
as he decended the stairs. He really liked her as a friend,
and thought that, somehow, she reminded him of a girl he once
knew. Brendyn's thoughts broke as he heard what sounded like
Malcus's voice coming from down a ways from where he was, and
Titrus's voice as well. He moved closer, and heard talking,
othe runintelligable noises, then....

Malcus
 
"FUCK!"


Brendyn ran to the cell the noise had come from....
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: LadyCastus
Date: Thu Apr 24, 2008 8:59 pm

Neeria


Neeria stood and walked to the small window as morning made
it's way over the keep. She pressed her head to the bars,
straining to look up - to perhaps see the sky. A stone wall
stood on the other side of the window, only allowing a small
stream of light into the cell. She could barely see a sliver
of the sky over the tall wall, but she was thankful for that.
At least she was alive, that mattered for something, she
thought. The woad unwrapped herself from the blanket that
Tristan had brought her and laid it on the straw mat. Then she
moved to the far corner of the small room to relieve herself
again. When finished, she picked up the blanket and wrapped
her trembling body. She felt the wound on her side which now
felt like a hot, throbbing mess of oozing pus. It also stank.
There was no doubt now that it was infected because Neeria was
aware that she also had a fever. She was both freezing and
burning up at the same time. The woman held the side of her
face, pressing lightly under her eye, on her cheekbone, where
the Roman had punched her in the face during their attack
against Arthur. It was swollen and painful. Despite the wound
at her side, Neeria hadn't suffered any broken bones. For
that, she was thankful. She was missing a boot and her foot
was filthy and bloody. She had scratches and bruises on her
breasts from the guard's attack the night before. She would
live if she were allowed to see a medicus. If not, death would
be a blessing and she would embrace it.

Neeria heard voices on the other side of her cell door. She
struggled to stand back up and move toward the massive door.
She pressed her ear against the wood, straining to hear. She
recognized the Roman's voice - the Roman that came to her
after the guard was removed - the official-looking one. Neeria
couldn't remember his name. It didn't matter, they were all
vile. Neeria could tell that he was further down the corridor
from her cell. He'd actually come back to the dungeons as he
said he would. Neeria hadn't believed that he would. All
Romans were liars and not to be trusted. Merlin had taught her
that.

Just then, a key slid into the lock. Neeria rushed back to the
straw mat and sat down. When the door opened, she peered
nervously at yet another Roman. One she had never seen before.
He stared at her. Neeria gathered the blanket around her body,
not knowing what he wanted.
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golden_trillium

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Author: sabor ice
Date: Thu Apr 24, 2008 11:26 pm
Milan


Mari
 
"Girl. Boy. Woman... Man...You're getting quite good at
this. Tell me you want to learn more...?"


He gave a lop-sided smile and shook his head in disagreement
when she initially referred to herself as a 'girl.' When she
gestured to herself again and said 'woman,' he mused
approvingly. Milan had never thought of Mari as a girl, and he
would've been surprised to learn if she had thought
differently. Mari was pretty and trim, intelligent and kind, a
companion to life itself. No, he saw no 'girl' here. As for
himself, although he was no 'boy' per se, Milan retained the
charms of one.

Mari was perhaps a tad more excited about getting Milan
talking than he was, but her efforts did not go unappreciated.
It was quite overwhelming on his part to have been catapulted
into this new prospect called 'speech' so suddenly, but he was
holding up well. Mari had the patience of a saint and thank
goodness for that. He needed practice and he needed time. It
was hard not being able to speak his mind, to tell her things
he had never been able to say before, especially now that he
knew he did have a voice. Contrary to Mari's hopes though,
Milan wasn't going to be speaking full sentences for awhile
yet - at least not coherent ones.

He raised his hand to her face, allowing his fingers to
lightly trickle down her features once, something he had done
several times in the past, and now the movement was done
unconsciously.

"Sleep...you...me..." he uttered tiredly, gesturing to her and
then to himself, respectively. His subjects and verb were
backwards, but his meaning was obvious enough. He wanted for
them to sleep awhile now. After all, they had been going at
this 'talking' thing non-stop since the previous day.
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golden_trillium

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Author: SarmatianKnight
Date: Fri Apr 25, 2008 3:24 am
Lucius


Lucius watched while Barbattus and Titrus headed for the
second cell. He did not enter the one with the woman, who
should be no problem. He recognised the stuff his Captain had
brought with him and somehow he had no good feeling about what
would happen in that second cell. A child, injured badly just
did not fit to what he saw: two men entering the cell with leg
irons. And did they just say something about killing her?
Lucius was not sure (and probably it was better, otherwise he
would have done something stupid) and with a final glance into
the direction of the two men, he turned back to the unlocked
and open cell. It was slightly light-headed to turn away from
an open door that locked away a prisoner until now. With a
small sigh he wondered if the correct way was somewhere
between the leg irons and being careless…

Lucius looked into the cell just to find the woman he had seen
in the courtyard sitting on a straw mat, far away from trying
to escape. He took his time to look at her because he was sure
that the first impression – good, bad, pathetic, whatever –
was the most important one. So far he had done right with this
behaviour. He did not stare though. He looked interested.

After another brief moment Lucius entered the cell – and
closed the door behind him. He did not think that he had to
cry for help or run away. And it was better to talk to people
alone and he meant alone. Healer, fed, clothes – of course,
but he would follow this order in his own pace. The order did
not specify the length of time. He closed the distance between
them and looked at the small point of her face where her
fingers pressed against her cheekbone. “Does it hurt?” he
asked, not approaching further because while he cared for
people he wanted to avoid to end with one of his own daggers
in his chest. He could not see all of her wounds but the blood
on the naked foot was obvious. “Come” he offered her a helping
hand. “You need to see a healer.” He did not push her, he did
not press her, he did not drag her out of the cell. He waited.
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