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| April 2008 | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Nov 5 2009, 10:37 PM (3,963 Views) | |
| golden_trillium | Mar 16 2010, 11:08 PM Post #331 |
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Author: Kayla Date: Fri Apr 25, 2008 5:26 am Fiona It was strange to look towards her home from on top of the parapet and see it from a different stand point then she was used to. Fiona was completely lost in her thoughts for a few moments as she leaned against the wall, peering out into the beautiful view below and far beyond, leading on into the woods that she used to call her home. Would she always feel this slight sense of longing for the place she had grown up in? It was natural, she figured, that she would miss and want to see the people she had left behind but she was getting older now and she was determined to find a way through it, relying a little on the people she had made friends with in the fortress, and herself as well. She did have one lingering, knawing thought though, when it came to her people and that was, what would happen now that the attacks Merlin had made on the fort were over. What course of action would he, or even Arthur, take now? The prospect made her nervous, almost as if waiting in dreaded anticipation for what was going to happen next. Puffing out a small breath of air, the young woman found that she didn't want to look away from the view, even as the wind picked up slightly and blew her cloak a bit awry. Her mind was pulled in different directions as she sighed slightly, suppressing a shiver that was threatening. Fiona reached her hand up and ran her small fingers through her hair, spilling it over her shoulders as she moved her blue eyes to Tristan and Catherine again, who was retreating away from the knight.
His quiet words reached her ears as he passed through the space behind her, and Fiona turned to look up at him. Out of all of Arthur's knights, he was the one that intimidated her the most, especially after seeing his skills in battle. But, she had come across him a while back, when he had been on one of his scouting trips and she had been among the woods with a few of her fellow woads, learning a thing or two about scouting the area herself before getting separated from them. Coming across the scout, she had almost been sure that he would kill her and to this day, she was not sure what had stopped him. But, it only added to her previous thoughts that too many people knew the truth about her being a woad already. She still wasn't sure what to expect from him, though, or why he had greeted her. She could only guess what he might think of her people and she figured that it probably went for her too, no matter how different she was from the woad warriors. "Tristan," Fiona spoke quietly as he continued moving away from her, trying to gain his attention. This probably wasn't the best time but being one of Arthur's knights, he probably knew the answer to the question that was still lingering in her mind. "What will Arthur do now? About the attack?" She half-way didn't expect him to answer her at all but this was her chance to ask someone who was close with Arthur. And yes, she was still worried about her people, and the fact that this need for peace might not ever be filled. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 16 2010, 11:09 PM Post #332 |
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Author: LadyCastus Date: Fri Apr 25, 2008 5:34 am Neeria As the Roman moved closer to her, Neeria panicked. Damnable Romans couldn't be trusted. But the woad was sick with fever and exhausted. She'd drank the water Barbattus had brought to her hours ago and her throat was sore from thirst again. As the man drew nearer, Neeria braced herself for what might happen.
Neeria stared at the man. There was no ill-will in the tone of his voice, but she didn't trust him. No Roman was to be trusted and she hated this man standing before her. But somehow, inexplicably, her tired eyes filled with tears. She hated this man, but she saw the compassion on his face. As the hot tears slid slowly down her face, Neeria lowered her head and simply nodded, choking back a sob.
The words floated to her tired, weary ears like a fallen leaf on an cool autumn day. Neeria, still shaking with fever, looked back up to the Roman and locked on to his blue eyes. Slowly, with all the strength and determination she could muster, the small woman stood up and faced Lucius who towered over her. In a very soft, resigned voice, she lowered her head in submission. "I will go with you, Roman." |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 16 2010, 11:12 PM Post #333 |
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Author: Pinkie Date: Fri Apr 25, 2008 6:44 am Eala His talking only agitated Eala. She watched with frantic whips of her head back and forth, watching their lips move but not able to concentrate on what they were saying. The cold made her body shake now and then though the little blonde was not consciously aware of it. All of her energy was poured into observing the two men who meant her harm. How could they not mean her harm?! They were Romans and Eala knew that Romans did not care for Woads. They would not care that they had killed all of her family ... all of them. Right down to the last, right down to Donnchadh! The thought of her dead brother made Eala gasp. Her lean body whipped backwards, back bending lower. That moment of intense grief for her brother had almost blinded her - and when she focussed on the men again they were moving. One of them shouted, she could see by his face that he was yelling at her and she opened her mouth wide, hissing at him as if to tell him to stop shouting at her. Of course his 'shout' came across as nothing but a faint rumble against her damaged ear-drum and his lips moved too quick for her to make sense of his words. The other man made a move and without thought Eala sprung forward. She was brave, or stupid, to launch forward without a thought to her own safety as bare as the day she was born. Her arms flailed wildly and her legs latched about the man's thighs awkwardly, trying to keep her balance as best she could. This man had chains and he meant to put her into them. The wild woad felt pain in her head, the man had her by the hair. She let out another hoarse yelp though it sounded all wrong. Instead of resisting the tug on her head she allowed it, using the momentum to turn her head and sink her teeth into the man's wrist. He was wearing a gauntlet but she was persistent, angling her head down lower to bite his palm where his skin was exposed. The metallic taste of blood was in her mouth and it made her stomach churn. Eala felt victorious for that though. While he was distracted with the pain in his wrist, Eala dropped to her feet but staggered a step. Instinctively she had her hand crossed over her chest, holding her shoulder which was a burning furnace of pain right now. There was blood trickling down from her lower lip - a mixture of the guards and her own from where one of her cuts had burst open in the attack. Eala's black eyes looked over at the other man now, he was making his move towards her. She hissed once and darted forward. She used her sore shoulder to knock into the man and the pain sent her sprawling to the floor. But not without a semblance of victory. Her hand grappled with this man's leg and she felt the hilt of a blade at his boot. It was bigger than she normally used but Eala had the dagger out in the blink of an eye, holding it in her good hand, her other arm hanging uselessly by her side now. It felt marvellous to have this dagger, to know she would do damage with it. Eala backed off towards the door of the cell. She held the blade out in front of her threateningly, not realising there was someone else there, her eyes only pinned to the two men in the cell now. Saoirse
Saoirse only realised that she had doubted his want for her love when he admitted that he did want it. She only realised it because she felt a surge of relief inside of her, she felt as if the day had finally dawned, light filtered into her existance again. It pained her to think that she had doubted it beforehand, but it was her nature to doubt that which was good in her life. People didn't love for the sake of loving. They always wanted something in return and that something was usually that which a person could not give. Their whole selves. But in this case, in the case of Dagonet, Saoirse knew she was willing to give whatever it would take to keep his love. The man slumped back onto the bed having attempted to sit up a moment ago. Saoirse sighed, giving him a shaky smile in thanks for his words. She was a little naive to think that he was placated for the time being, she let her defenses down a little. But he was not yet finished. He had more hurt inside of him that needed purging now, he had more words that needed to be said. The red head scrunched her knees up higher, resting them against Dagonet's side and her hand came down to rst on his far shoulder, her arm above his head, as she sheltered him. Fresh tears fell from his reddened eyes...
There was a frantic edge to his voice. Saoirse bit her bottom lip in anxiety as she watched the emotions play across his face. She felt so helpless, so dumb and helpless as she sat there watching him fall to pieces again. More than anything she wanted to tell him that this was her fault, that she was the one who brought death and pain in her wake, but she didn't want him to hate her. She didn't want him to believe that which she already believed because it would mean she had killed Gedeon and she didn't want to believe that herself!
He tried to pull her closer. Saoirse's troubled face became intense as she skooched forward, unfolding her legs to lie her body down flush with Dagonet's hurting one. His head was at her shoulder and she bowed her own head, feeling the bristle of his short cropped hair against her chin as she shut her eyes, listening to his sad pleadings. Every word was like a knife to her stomach. Each word left her feeling so helpless. How was she to wake him when it was this very waking world that was causing him the pain? How could she shake it off of him when the pain he felt was not on him, but in him? She could not plead with the gods to come back to him because she had no idea how to talk to the gods who had abandonned her many, many years ago. All she had was herself. Her body, her mind, her heart and her spirit. The red head was grinding her teeth hard to keep from letting all these things spill over. She shut her blue eyes and skooched down further so that her face was level with Dagonet's. "Shh love... don't bury yerself in all a'this guilt, please don't." she murmured, kissing his cheek, her brow furrowed as she sought lower to his lips. It was not the most romantic of kisses but she persisted, deepening the intimacy as best she could through the tears that threatened to spill from her own eyes. When she withdrew she felt breathless, her eyes still shut, her forehead leaning against Dagonet's. "There's more t'life than tha' hurt, I promise ye there'll be more. Just give it some more time an' y'll see there's more than guilt an' ... an'.. hurt. There's more, I swear there's more." the red head whispered. Drake His entrance had not been silent, so why did she not look up? Where was the spark of human curiosity that would lead her to wonder who approached? Drake could feel his guts twisting into an uncomfortable knot even now, even before she lifted her face and he saw the haunted look to her hazel eyes. Immediately he stiffened. His whole posture changed to one of defense. Someone had hurt her whilst he had been gone from her side. Someone had done terrible pains to her and he had not been there to protect her. Where the hell had her husband been? Why had he not stopped this from happening!? An indescribable anger reddened Drake's vision for a moment, his furious green eyes looking down at Linnette, beseeching her to speak the hurts done upon her so that he could right them, so that he could ensure someone suffered a thousand-fold. The only damn thing he was good at in life was protection, was guarding those that he cared about and look how terribly he had failed! Look how his feelings had made him turn aside from her even for the least division of an hour, and look at the hurt that had attached itself to her in that short time!
That one letter from her lips seemed to make his world shake. She said no more than that one syllable and her face screwed up. Drake's lips spread out in a thin line of concern, that anger he had felt at himself started to dwindle into something else, something gentler. Concern for Linnette. His mind was engaged now without the red haze of rage from thinking someone had hurt Linnette. He started to assess things more clearly as she crumpled before him. Without thought Drake fell to his knees and then to his backside, twisting his body so that he sat next to Linnette. His hand slid up her upper arm on the far side of her body and he pulled her to him, his other arm reaching around her back. He did not suffer any resistance from her, ignoring even the slightest tension as he held her to him. She felt tiny next to him . She felt so cold. Drake frowned down at her and lifted a protective hand to the side of her head, sheltering her from the cold wind as much as he could. Her husband was gone. Dead. Drake didn't need to be told that much. It was all obvious when he let down his own prejudices and defenses. He had no words for the woman who was falling apart next to him right now and he wished he did. Even just one word from his lips, just ... one damn word. "Easy..." he mumured the request, wanting her to calm a little so that she could catch her breath, wanting her to be able to tell him where she hurt so that he could try fix it for her, though Drake knew he couldn't fix it. Not unless he could turn back time and bring her husband back to her. A little part of his mind prayed that her husband's death was not the reason for this. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 16 2010, 11:14 PM Post #334 |
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Author: SarmatianKnight Date: Fri Apr 25, 2008 6:53 am Lucius The reaction he got to his question was not what he had expected. Probably the staring and the moment of silence, yes, but not the tears. He was slightly swamped with emotions of an unknown person. He waited and gave her time to gather herself. With the watery eyes, sitting on the mattress she something of a lost child and although it was hard to tell how old she was, she reminded him of his sister. the sister he loved so much. The sister he wanted to become a beautiful young woman who should live a happy life with a loving husband and children and no sorrows. When the memory around his sister and her death dared to return his eyes darkened for a brief moment before he pushed the thoughts away. Not now. Lucius focused on the woman again, tried to see the enemy, the Woad, the prisoner. And she still reminded him of his sister. She looked weary and weak, trembling slightly due to the coldness - or fear? Or was that sweat on her face? He could not really tell because the dim light was not enough to really see. He waited patiently until she stood.
Good. So much about leg irons and violence. Lucius had no doubt that there was always another way. Although he had to admit that in this particular case the main reason for the obedience was pain and exhaustion. "As if you would have another choice" he answered in a probably typically Roman way but a smile tugged at the corners of his lips. He looked at the blanket wrapped around the slender body and considered if she needed anything else on their way to the infirmary. No - was the result of the thoughts. Lucius opened the door and lead her out of the cell. He let her walk alone, freely, because he dared to be sure that she would not be strong enough to fight him and not fast enough to run away. They passed the other cells and Lucius ignored the smell of blood and other things he did not want to think about, the screams and moans and sighs of the creatures who atracted Rome's resentment for several reasons. He looked back over his shoulder to the cell where Barbattus and Titrus were busy in and he wondered if he should report and tell his Captain that he was leaving. And again the answer was no. He had his order so why reporting again? He had a brain to think for himself. On their way to the infirmary the soldier did not touch Neeria in any way, just in moments when he had the feeling her exhausted body needed a helping hand. Any curious looks of the people outside he ignored. They stared. They reached the infirmary without problems. While one of the healers there looked after Neeria Lucius left to fulfill the second part of his order. Food. He entered the tavern and returned to the infirmary with some bread and meat and a green apple. He wondered who would eat such a hard and tart thing at all. But well, it was food and the best things he could find at the moment. He waited for the healer to leave Neeria. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 16 2010, 11:23 PM Post #335 |
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Author: LadyCastus Date: Fri Apr 25, 2008 7:48 am Malcus Barbattus Malcus sprang into action, rushing to Titrus' side to assist. The child was clinging on the soldier like a spider. In a flash, she jumped down from the lieutenant and charged at the commander like a battering ram. As she approached, Barbattus back handed her, hard, and sent her sprawling to the floor, arms and legs flying. "Why you little BITCH!" the commander yelled, "I'll fucking kill you, you fucking woad! You dare attack one of my soldiers?!" He grabbed the child by her hair and snatched, yanking her face upward to meet his deadly gaze. He saw blood on her mouth and teeth, either hers, Titrus' or both, he wasn't sure. Barbattus looked to Titrus as the rabid girl wriggled from his grasp, oblivious to the clump of hair Barbattus still held in his hand when she broke free. Titrus grabbed the woad's legs and tried to stop her kicking. To his horror, Malcus realized the girl had got a hold of the his boot and unsheathed the dagger he kept there. With complete lunacy in her eyes, the woad swung wildly with the blade in her hand. Barbattus lowered into offensive position, prepared to take the child out. Suddenly, he saw Brendyn darkend the doorframe and he got an idea. Malcus looked back at Titrus and gave a silent command with his eyes, motioning with his head. Titrus nodded that he understood the order. In one swift motion, Malcus bent down and picked up the blanket he'd been carrying and threw it over the woad's head. Titrus then sprung forward and tackled the girl to the floor and grabbed her wrist, twisting it to almost breaking, so she would drop the dagger. That's exactly what she did. The small beast thrashed about under the blanket, groaning and hissing like a demon. Malcus had her pinned good, though, and she could do no more damage. The commander fought back the urge to kill her. Oh, how he wanted to snap her little neck. "Brendyn, help Titrus secure the prisoner!" Barbattus ordered. After the woad child was securely fastened in the irons, Malcus put his face to hers. "You will not be allowed a second time to injure one of my men," he spat. Then he looked to Titrus and Brendyn, "If she so much as throws an arm or leg, cut her. Now get her out of here." he growled. "Titrus, have that bite looked at when you're at the infirmary. This little bitch may have infected you with something." Neeria Neeria was led out of her cell by the Roman guard. Her bare foot ached and burned on the cold, slimy floor as she slowly limped out into the dark corridor. There was a loud commotion going on a few cells down from Neeria's but she couldn't see what was going on. Slowly, the Roman walked the woad down the corridor and out into the yard. The brightness of outside blinded Neeria and she blinked frantically to get her eyes adjusted. She was aware that the Roman never touched her, never pushed her or urged her forward. She was grateful. The thought of him touching her made her ill. For an instant, the warrior considered making a run for it or trying to overtake the guard, but she knew she was in no condition to do either. The wound at her side was an angry pussie mess and her foot was cracked and raw. The loss of blood, the fever and the lack of food prevented any thoughts of escape to materialize. For now, she was at the Roman's mercy. As they made their way through the common area en route to the infirmary, Neeria raised her head slightly and looked around. When they arrived at the infirmary, the Roman told her to stay put, that he would return. Then, the Roman left her under the care of an older woman; apparently, a nun. Neeria eyed the woman suspicisously as the healer pulled back the blanket to examine Neeria's wound and gasped. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 16 2010, 11:24 PM Post #336 |
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Author: Darya Date: Fri Apr 25, 2008 8:36 am Neeve & Darya
Neeve could not help the sparkle of triumph that was clearly visible in her blue eyes when Lancelot finally gave in and granted her a closer look at his arm. When the knight took off the tunic he was wearing, the healer arched an eyebrow and allowed herself a moment of assessing the Sarmatian. He had been handsome as teenager…and he still was one picture of a man. Some more scars…but still… Smirking slightly to herself, the Briton then thoroughly tended to Lancelot’s injury. It was indeed nothing too serious, but if not seen to, it could still get infected…and cost the knight his life. “Let me be the judge of how 'fine' it is, Lancelot…”, Neeve said while focusing on the wound.
Darya gave Arthur a weary smile before she watched him closing his eyes. It seemed the healer’s tea was working well. “I’m not going anywhere…”, the female Sarmatian promised quietly and sat down on the edge of the bed… Her dark gaze shifted from the sleeping Roman to the healer, who was finally taking care of Lancelot…and back to Arthur… She shifted on the bed, sensing that the last long exhausting days were slowly but surely taking their toll. And at some point, the dark-haired had fallen into a light sleep, resting rather slouched with her upper body laying on the blankets that covered Arthur’s legs. It was comforting to feel him nearby…and she would know immediately should the Roman wake up…or so she hoped… Neeve finished her work on Lancelot’s injury and was quite satisfied with the result. The First Knight should be at his best in no time. But when the healer wanted to inform the Sarmatian about this, she noticed that his dark eyes were shut. He had fallen asleep. An almost motherly smile briefly spread on the Briton’s full lips and she gently pulled the tunic out of the man’s other hand and used it as a blanket to cover the knight’s bare upper body. Then her blue gaze shifted towards Arthur…and she saw the Roman sound asleep, too…as well as Darya. The raven-haired suddenly felt strangely out of place…but she would stay in this room nonetheless. Someone had to watch over those exhausted souls…especially over Arthur. His condition was still critical and it would be irresponsible of her to leave now… Thus the healer quietly cleaned the things she had used, sorted things out…and already packed the things she knew she would not use anymore… |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 16 2010, 11:26 PM Post #337 |
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Author: LadyCastus Date: Fri Apr 25, 2008 10:32 am Malcus Barbattus Once Titrus and Brendyn left the dungeons with the woad prisoners, Malcus left also and headed to his office. The commander was in a high state of agitation. He adjusted his cloak as he entered the adminstrative office and threw it to the side. That damned Merlin and his followers! To hell with all of the vile beasts. Malcus still had the urge to punch someone, he was furious. He wanted to talk to Arthur and find out what the bloody hell his plans were regarding the native demons. The commander went to the wash basin and splashed water on his face and neck, trying to steady his anger. As the icy cold water hit him, he felt immediate relief and felt the rage within slowly dissipate. As Barbattus sat down in the large chair behind his desk, it was still early morning, yet he wondered what else lay in store for him. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 16 2010, 11:28 PM Post #338 |
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Author: Kay Date: Fri Apr 25, 2008 12:02 pm Guinevere Guinevere strode across the encampment, deep in thought, when a voice cut into her reverie:
She looked up suddenly, then smiled a little when she saw Mona. "I was just making my way to his shelter" Guinevere replied. "You are to come with us on the mission, aren't you? We have to wait for a signal from the fort; Ash will let us know if he needs help finding Neeria and Eala." She shivered a little in the chill of the damp air, and wondered how her friend was fairing; the Romans would surely have thrown her in the dungeons. Guinevere wrapped her cloak around her body a little tighter. "Come" she said to Mona. "Let's walk together" Grace Grace woke with a start; she had slept badly; images of snarling, bloody men haunted her dreams. She scrambled out of bed and crept into her mother's room; the woman was sleeping peacefully. Grace gently stroked her mother's face, glad that the medicine was doing it's job. Closing the door again quietly, Grace moved quietly about the hut, as she washed and dressed, ready for the day ahead. "Caroline" she called to her sister. "We must have our breakfast, then you can help me set up the stall. We will have to take turns looking after mother whilst the other serves at the market" Caroline yawned and climbed off her pallet. "You hate working the stall" she said. "I know that" Grace replied. "But we cannot afford to lose a day of trading, so I will have to go out there, won't I?" "I can do it" Caroline said. Grace sighed. Caroline was well known for wandering off if left alone at the stall for too long; they lost half of the stock last time she did it. "You know that isn't sensible" Grace said. "This way is better" She held up her hand to stop Caroline's protests. "I'm going to check the hens" she said. "A nice frsh egg is just what Mother needs for her breakfast", and she quickly ducked out into the back yard before Caroline could say another word. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 16 2010, 11:29 PM Post #339 |
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Author: LadyCastus Date: Fri Apr 25, 2008 12:15 pm Mona
"Yes, it is Merlin's wish that I assist in the mission to free, Neeria," she said. "I hope that Neeria has survived," Mona added. In reality, she wasn't sure if she hoped that at all. Getting Neeria out of the picture may be the best thing that's happened to Mona. But then she cursed herself for thinking such a thing. Neeria was her best friend. Guinevere pulled her cloak closely around her body in the morning chill. Mona relished the coldness and she felt invigorated.
Mona nodded and aligned herself next to her leader. They walked in companionable silence for a while, then Mona stopped and faced Guinevere. She locked eyes with Guinevere and steeled herself for the response she might receive. "Guinevere, do you think perhaps Neeria has betrayed us to the Romans?" |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 16 2010, 11:32 PM Post #340 |
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Author: lady ione Date: Fri Apr 25, 2008 1:02 pm Brendyn
Shit! The young soldier ran faster and reached the cell, which looked like a ruddy colluseum tournament! What chilled him was not the blood that was on Titrus and Malcus, but how the "thing" they were fighting seemed to be half animal and half human? He had not seen the whole fight, but had heard most of it...until he he made a quick gaze to Malcus and Titrus who was definitly bleeding...actually from Brendyn's point of view, there was blood on all three combatants... Brendyn saw Malcus catch the wild young girl in the blanket throwing it over her head, then he saw Titrus tackle the child, and bring her down, and making her lose the dagger. Now the dagger lie nearby, and Malcus had the hissing, demonic sounding child pinned to the floor...
Without hesitiation, Brendyn moved quickly forward as Malcus clapped the young "wild cat" in irons. The young soldier had not gotten a good look at the prisoner, but she had looked young and lean. Antonius had told him once "never to judge a book by it's cover ", so Brendyn did take the young woad as a weakling...she was strong, that was for sure. But outside of hisses and growels, Brendyn had not heard her say, or should anything. Any normal prisoner would have been screaming their head off for freedom and what have you. This young girl said nothing but sounds... Still Brendyn had a duty to do, and nothing short of this wild thing dying would have made him go back on Malcus's orders. He and Titrus held on well to the irons as Malcus addressed the woad again...
Brendyn nodded, and helped Titrus lead the woad prisoner to see a healer, or at least one that was brave enough to look at the girl. He would carry Malcus's orders to the letter if the "cat" so much as hurt one of the healers or anyone else. Nuns had a thing against "wild" people, and Brendyn prayed that God would send them one of His choosing. He was a soldier first, with a duty to those in Command at the fort...compassion for his enemies was next to nothing... He and Titrus led the hissing, growling, thrashing, chained bundle into the infirmary, and looked about at the odd looks that came from the nuns and healers on duty. "We need a healer here...." Ione She finished washing herself, dressing, and fixing her hair, then walked out of the small room with the basin and throwing the dirty water out of the shop into the snow. Walking out a bit to find fresh untouched snow, Ione took a basin full and brought it inside to melt down for her bath later when night came. Replacing the basin in the small room on a table at the foot of the bed, Ione stood there for a moment and looked at the bed.... Javier had tended to her wounds there, had kissed her there, and had just...been there. Now, he was gone and the uncertainty of his return hit her again. He had been the type of man who had loved her for who she was, and she had loved him...she still did. Moving from the room, and walking to the hearth, Ione built a warm fire there, and placed the kettle on to heat up some water for tea. Taking one of the overturned chairs and uprighting it, Ione curled up and stared at the growing fire. She was not the most brilliant sometimes, but there was something she had begun to figure out...gradually... She had not had a cycle for almost a month if that, she had gotten sick twice so far then felt fine after words....and why was she craving food she had never liked before? Ione frowned as she recalled watching Vanora before she had the twins....sick in the morning, eating food that was odd, emotional. The young weaver's face deepned in the frown. Was she...pregnant? Her fear deepened at the thought....Could that be true? Ione looked about herself at the things strewn about her, and tears came to her eyes. What if this was true and Javier never returned for her? Then, Mirtha's face came into her mind, and the tears brimmed in her dark chocolate eyes. If Javier never came back, there was Mirtha. Ione tucked her knees up under her chin and thought of the bout of lovemaking she and Mirtha had engaged in. At first she had been terrified of the fact that he was drunk, but then, once she warmed up to him, the act between them had been very natural with no hesitations. Each knew what the other had wanted without asking... She got up from where she sat and made the tea in a large mug and sat back down, staring into the fire, and thinking of what her future was going to be like without Javier there with her.... Would any man consider loving her now? Ione tried to think positive, but all that came up were doubts... |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 16 2010, 11:32 PM Post #341 |
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Author: Pinkie Date: Fri Apr 25, 2008 1:05 pm Eala Eala felt mocked when the man grabbed her by the hair. He leaned down close to her and spoke words so close that she could feel the vibration of them in the air - but understand them? Not a chance. She was not attuned to this male at all though given some time she might be able to start deciphering things. In this present situation though, with tensions running so damn high, deciphering anything beyond his emotions was useless. The idea of stabbing one of these men was the only thing that kept Eala on her feet. She was too tired and weak from injuries to be at her best however, so when a mere blanket over her head was enough to bring her down, Eala fell like a sack of bricks. She struggled still though. Something in her shoulder snapped back into place when one of them pulled her arms back to shackle them. The pain was excrutiating and she screamed both in pain and at the indignation of being shackled. She felt the cold iron against her skin and let out another pained whine, her head tipped as far back as it would go and her mouth wide open, filled with the itchy blanket. She was hauled to her feet but did not walk, letting her legs turn to jelly and forcing the men to carry her. Eala was pretty sure they were going to kill her now. Why else would they be bringing her away from the dungeons? The blanket was still over her head and body, hanging down to her pale knees sadly. It was not enough to stop the wind from biting through and freezing her. Every now and then Eala shrugged the hands away from her and when the movement proved futile she let her legs turn back to jelly. They entered a building - Eala's teeth were chattering loudly beneath the blanket. One of the men took his hands off of her and she made to run again but ended up just tripping on the chains and falling onto her front awkwardly - it caused the blanket to pull off one side of her head revealing her tiny face beneath. Her short blonde hair was standing out at all angles and her face was streaked with tears she had not known she was crying until now. Rolling onto her back, Eala shut her black eyes and wished for home. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 17 2010, 01:24 AM Post #342 |
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Author: lady ione Date: Fri Apr 25, 2008 5:24 pm Bors and Vanora He stirred against her, and opened his eyes to greet the dim light of day. Bors looked over at Vanora as she stirred as well. He had missed her, and they had enjoyed their lovemaking even more, but now it was daylight almost and he had to see what was going on with the rest of the world. Kissing Vanora, he got out of bed, wincing as his foot it the floor because of his leg injury, and washed and got dressed. Vanora was almost ready to wake up, but he knew best not to bother her and just let her wake up n her own.... Bors slipped out of the house with his heavy jacket pulled tightly about him. How were the other knights, and Arthur? He made his way over the frozen ground toward the tavern.... Brendyn Brendyn felt the prisoner break from he and Titrus's grasp, and he recalled what Malcus had told them both. This woad, despite the fact that she was young, was still a prisoner and an enemy. He ran after the woad and stopped as she tripped on the chains causing her to fall forward...the blanket had slipped off of her head as well. The woad had rolled on to her back. She was a mess to be sure, but Brendyn just too a hold of the chains and dragged her to her feet.... "Come on, woad. Up you go," He firmly grasped on to the chains now and brought her to face him. There was no way she was getting away from them this time. His voice was deadly, "I have my orders, and nothing short of watching you die due to your stupidity will make me go back on them....do you understand?" He glanced at Titrus who nodded taking the other side of the chains, and making sure he had them firmly. His deep blue eyes studied the young girl, who, if she cleaned up could have been rather lovely for her age. Right now, her hair was askew, and tears streaked her dirty face...tears of anger no doubt, but Brendyn knew that the more she fought and remained dangerous....the closer she was to just being left to die. He had seen it happen before to other prisoners... Calming his tone, but not letting down his guard, Brendyn said, ' if it is your wish to fight for your freedom, then you should let someone tend to you...otherwise your woulds will become infected and you will die. Will you let them treat you?' It troubled him a bit that this young girl had not spoken, and wondered if there was some way of communicating with her, besides looking into those angry, wild, untamed eyes that said so much... He did not care about her name, and he had not been given orders to be gentle. Brendyn just wanted her tended to, so he and Titrus could get her back to the dungeons.... |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 17 2010, 01:26 AM Post #343 |
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Author: golden_trillium Date: Fri Apr 25, 2008 7:06 pm Merlin
He traced over her cheekbone with his fingers, the breathlessness occasioned by hungry kiss fading a little, replaced by tenderness at the slight sadness, almost hurt, in her voice. Clearly, he was a fool not to have seen this earlier, not too have perceived the advantages, to both of them, in expressing what had always been unsaid between them, rather than dancing around it and tormenting each other with it. He had been a fool. His fingers glided upwards, over the fine arch of her eyebrow and back down her cheek; her sharp features had taken on an indescribable beauty to him in the dawn light. Truly, every man saw the face of the Goddess in his beloved- and he did, here and now. “Juna…” he whispered her name softly, for no purpose other than to say it. He wanted her badly, too, wanted to bury himself inside her and hear her make those little sounds of pleasure that she had before. And he didn’t want to wait. Leaving another gentle kiss on her mouth- gentle, always gentle- he pushed himself up so that he knelt between her legs, loosened the thong at his waist, and pushed his pants down over narrow hips. He wasn’t abashed about his nudity- not in the least- and he took a moment to drink in the sight of her lying beneath him, even though she was still partially clothed. “I forget that when you came to us you were already a woman,” he murmured quietly, gazing down at her with heavy-lidded eyes. He ran his hands up the outside of her thighs, slowly and deliberately pushing her skirt up the rest of the way. Her pale skin shone like a jewel in the gray light. “You seemed like a girl to me then.” Why was he telling her that? He didn’t even know- surely it didn’t matter now. He slid one hand sideways towards her center, just cupping it at first, then letting his thumb search for the small nub that would give her the most pleasure. He found it, and let a satisfied smile spread over his face at her gratifying reaction. “Open for me,” he commanded in a whisper, as, still slowly and deliberately, he positioned himself and pressed forward, entering her and filling her. He shut his eyes as he lay forward on her, burying his face once more in her neck, letting their bodies mesh together as one- she felt like heaven itself. Tristan
Tristan turned back, giving the girl a sharp look for her impulsive question. Why did she ask that? Why did she ask him? Surely she knew- first hand- what fate awaited Woads who rebelled against Rome. It was a stupid question- and yet she stood there with that worried, half-hopeful look on her face, as if she might be able to get some reassurance from him. Well, Tristan had none to give- and no good opinion of Merlin right now. He took a step towards her, advancing a little threateningly, his golden eyes burning and his head tilted a little to one side- like a hunter sizing up a potential prey. “You know what will happen,” he rasped. And you know your father is a lying, oath-breaking bastard, Tristan added in his mind, though he did not say that out loud. A slight, angry twist of his mouth in the direction of the woods below the parapet sufficed to express that particular sentiment. Linnette
Easy. Much easier said than done. Linnette tried desperately to get her great, gulping sobs under control, but they just seemed to come and come, hardly bearing any relation any more to what was going on around her, or even what was going on in her mind. They were just automatic, happening whether she willed them or not, despair taking over her to the exclusion of all else. She was dimly aware that Drake had sat down beside her, had put his arm around her and shielded her face from the wind, but that only made it easier to pull into a little ball and try to shut out the world, try her best to disappear into the stones. It was darker, though, if she hid her head against him, and distinctly warmer- the combination of that seemed to sink into her and gradually, very, very gradually, her sobs became smaller, the tightness in her chest eased just a little bit, and she was able to raise her head and look up at him, trying to form words. “He…they say he…fell…f…from a wall just like this one.” That last phrase brought a new flood of tears with it, and by the end of it her voice was a mere squeak, but it seemed important to get that information out, somehow- to explain this and to bring the subject of Gedeon, as talk and memories was all there could be of him now. That was all she could say right now, though; she ducked her head and hid her face in her sleeve again, but her crying was softer now, though fresh, despairing tears still wet her sleeve. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 17 2010, 01:27 AM Post #344 |
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Author: linnet Date: Fri Apr 25, 2008 8:02 pm Mother Lavinia Lavinia was in the process of making the morning rounds. She had been working most of the night, managing only a couple hours of sleep before daylight. The place was full of wounded men from the Segedenum campaign, others injured in the Woad attack, and a few still sickened by the fever that had hit the fort. She was in a foul mood, feeling overwhelmed by the sheer number of bodies needing care. And to top it off, three of her staff were more or less awol. Her best had been called to personally attend to Castus. Alina had simply gallivanted off to spend time with her returning knight. And Saorise was unavailable to anyone but her gravely injured knight. Knights – they were enough to tempt one to blaspheme. The cranky nun walked briskly among the wards and private rooms, followed at a respectful distance by a handful of healers who had not been pirated by knights. She quickly assessed each patient, and barked out orders to her underlings to change dressings, clean wounds, minister medicines. By St. Peter, she would maintain order and efficiency in her realm despite the overload. As she strode into the main ward, someone called to her from near the door. Lavinia shooed away her entourage, with a backwards wave of her hand, telling them to get busy. When she reached the doorway, she was met by a nervous looking healer and a young woman wrapped in a blanket, standing like a frightened and wounded animal. The healer pulled aside the blanket, and Lavinia was appalled. A frightful open wound to the slender woman’s midsection oozed and radiated bright red lines of infection. And it was no wonder. The creature was covered in filth, with scant clothing left to cover her body. “Mother of Mercy,” Lavinia spat. The younger healer explained that a soldier had left the woman, saying he would return for her. No wonder she was such a mess. She was a prisoner. “This woman isn’t going anywhere,” Lavinia said. She addressed the woman, matter of factly. “You’re a Woad aren’t you? Can you understand me? We’re going to treat your wound and clean you up. You are not going back to that cesspool of a prison. Wait here while I find a bed for you.” She stalked off, her destination determined. When she reached the bed with the soundly sleeping knight, she gave a little snort at his loud snoring. “Wake up, knight!” she commanded, roughly shaking the shoulder of his non-broken arm. “This isn’t the drunk tank. Go finish sleeping it off in your own bed. We need this one. And don’t use that arm until I tell you to. Come back to have it checked next week. For now stop at the apothecary’s and get some tincture of witch hazel to keep the swelling down.” Lavinia said most of this walking away from the befuddled knight. She called to a nearby assistant to make the bed up immediately. She returned to the Woad. “Follow me,” she instructed the weak woman. “You too,” she added to the healer. As they headed toward the hopefully vacated and clean bed at the far side of the ward, Lavinia heard noises back by the doorway. She stopped and looked back. “Mother Mary and Joseph!” she exclaimed, not believing what had just entered her kingdom. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 17 2010, 01:28 AM Post #345 |
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Author: LadyCastus Date: Fri Apr 25, 2008 11:13 pm Neeria When the healer pulled back the blanket wrapped around the prisoner, the cool air hit Neeria's exposed wound and she cringed in agony. The fever radiated through her body and she was weak and shaking. The woad wobbled slightly, trying to keep her balance while her eyes darted about her new unfamiliar surroundings. The infirmary was immaculately clean and smelled of herbs and tonics. There were wounded bodies laying on the cots scattered throughout the ward.
Yes. That I am, Neeria said wearily, peering at the woman standing in front of her. The woad hoped this woman would be able to help her.
Neeria stared wide-eyed at the fiesty woman. The warrior had no idea who she was but she must have been some one of importance in the infirmary to make such a decision. Neeria was grateful to the healer - an emotion she had experienced several times since her capture but did not understand. She hated these people, she wanted to hate them. They were responsible for the death of her people - of her husband and so many other woads. She hated Arthur Castus and had set out to kill him. But she didn't kill him when she had the chance. She'd failed. Neeria shook her head to clear her tired mind. She was confused and sick with fever. The pain in her side was blinding and she could feel the goo slowly sliding down her side. She was starving and thirsty and she just couldn't think clearly at that moment. The prisoner leaned against the wall while she waited for the healer. By the time the woman returned, Neeria's head was spinning and she felt faint.
Neeria hadn't taken but 2 steps with the woman when there was a loud commotion just inside the door.
Neeria turned around, gasping at the pain in her side. Her mouth fell open as she turned around and saw Eala. |
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