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| April 2008 | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Nov 5 2009, 10:37 PM (3,956 Views) | |
| golden_trillium | Mar 18 2010, 02:15 AM Post #421 |
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Author: Pinkie Date: Wed Apr 30, 2008 3:25 pm Drake Drake felt awkward. No, more than that. Drake was awkward. His movements should have been smooth. He was a man experienced in all manner of things in life and yet he was still... hesitant. He looked down at Linnette in uncertainty, not sure if he was right about her, not sure if he was right about himself and his own heart. He wanted to talk to her about loss, about losing the ones you loved but he was not sure he could talk about his own loss without becoming a dark and cynical bastard. There was a part of him that just wanted to tell her that he knew the pain that she felt and that she could get through it. But was he really the type of person for her to aspire to be? He was a bloody wreck... The Spaniard was saved from making a fool of himself, as it would inevitably turned out to be, by the sudden appearance of Linnesse and her fair-haired lover, Derfel. Drake's jaw tensed and he took a step back, almost guiltily. His brow was furrowed and he felt his shoulders flatten in a defensive manner. Now he felt and looked awkward. Who was he to be hanging around escorting Linnette around the place? Who was he to insist on remaining in her company until he was certain she was ok? Who was he above her sister and future brother in law? Drake's green eyes never left Linnette, his heart giving a treacherous wrench when her sister removed his cloak from her shoulders. It was almost insulting, almost as if his cloak wasn't good enough for her. And he supposed, on reflection, it probably wasn't. Drake took the tattered red cloak and held it in one tight fist by his side. He was aware of Derfel watching him and gave a quick glance in his direction before staring off into space.
He didn't mean to, but Drake looked at Derfel's hand with a slight curl to his lip before reaching otu his own hand to shake it. It wasn't that he disliked Derfel as such, he just felt that his comment about looking after 'this one' sounded a little derogatory to Linnette, as if she cuoldn't take care of herself. Immediately defensive about Linnette, Drake pursed his lips, looking towards the red head who was being led off by her sister. Drake was distracted by her little wave, her adoreable face crinkled in appreciation as she mouthed a word of thanks to him. "I do." he responded distantly to Derfel's question about whether he had to escort her there himself. He didn't have orders to of course, but he still did feel that he needed to bring her to Arthur's door and back again without her coming to harm. Clearing his throat, shaking his head to dispel the wondrous image of Linnette's thanks, Drake glanced at Derfel and gestured for the Saxon to walk with him, a few feet behind Linnette and Linnesse. "I don't know about Arthur. I met a messenger who could not find Linnette. I found her and delivered the message." the Spaniard explained in a droll, rumbling tone as they turned a corner, heading towards Arthur's quarters. "How went the mission?" Drake asked for conversation purposes only. He wasn't truly interested nor hugely affected by the outcome of the mission. Not yet at least - the fact that most of the men had returned showed that it had been a victory at least. But at what cost? And what consequence? Eala When Neeria attemtped to make funny faces to ease the tension, Eala just stared at her in bewilderment at first. It took a while for her to realise what Neeria was doing and she gave a snort of amusement a little late, just as the older woad embraced her. The little blonde walked into the room right next to Neeria, her big black eyes looking around the room in wonderment. There was a horrible smell in the room that was nothing like what Eala was familiar with, and it made her wrinkle her nose in distaste. She took a step in behind Neeria for a moment, looking around and getting her bearings. Of course her sharp black eyes stalled a moment on the shelf of shiny utensils. Eala favoured knives and daggers in battle and she thought that some of those knives were big enough to use as weapons. Oh she looked entirely guilty of course! Eala had not mastered the art of being discreet but at least her attention was now diverted to the nun who was speaking to Neeria. Eala didn't like the nun - she could hear that she spoke words but it only struck her ears in a rumble - a consistant rumble at least. She started to rock a little on her heels, coming around to stand defensively in front of Neeria. The older woad took her by the shoulders and made an effort to explain to Eala what wuold happen - but it only appeased her a little. She still didn't trust this woman with the voice! The ten-year-old's heart was racing, her limbs would not remain still, her feet moving constantly as she paced around Neeria and wathced the older woman slide onto the bed. When Neeria made an expression of pain, Eala grit her teeth and slid over beside her, standing on the opposite side of the bed to the nun, holding Neeria's hand. Eala watched the other healer prepare something then flickered her gaze to Lavinia. Her eyes were angry, her body as tight as a wound coil.... "Gahh - num..." she tried to communicate as best she could, pointing at Neeria then pointing at the nun threateningly, promising to kill her, silently, if she hurt Neeria. Eala crouched a little, her knees bent, and she rested her chin on Neeria's shoulder, looking down at the oozing wound. It didn't seem to bother her, this horrid infected wound on the other woad. What did bother her was the Roman nun who was approaching. As Lavinia got closer, Eala got more edgy. Once Neeria's eyes rolled back in her head Eala could not contain her concern any longer. Accusing black eyes turned to the two healers - She gave a soft whine of protest when the nun got to the bedside, then bounced up, unable to hold herself still. She lashed out a hand, shoving Lavinia away, climbing astride Neeria's legs and covering her body with her own, glaring over her shoulder at the nun. "Nnnnn! NNN!" she snapped, shaking her head defiantly before looking down at Neeria, reaching her two hands up to the woman's face, shaking her head between her hands to try and make her come to. Amadeus The silence was deafening. Amadeus was almost starting to feel embarrassed about how he had phrased his response as he looked at Arthur. The man certainly held himself admirably, but the Optio was beyond admiring Arthur. He wanted to be rid of him - there was no room for admiration there. It was obvious he was in a great deal of pain, he was weak now - there was no time or chance for pity or sympathy. Strike while the iron is hot, Amadeus reminded himself. He could feel Lancelot's glare but pointedly refused to even acknowledge the dog's presence. The same could be said for the two bitches in heat that Arthur kept close too.
And finally he spoke! Amadeus had not been quite aware of how awkward he felt until Arthur spoke, breaking the tension. The man took a deep breath, holding it as Arthur quizzed him, nay, doubted his abilities to run the keep in his absence! Amadeus' lip twitched in a near sneer and he blew his pent breath irritably. "Provoked?!" Amadeus blurted out in disbelief, "Broken his word?!" he continued in a huff of breath, "He attacked this fortress at it's supposedly weakest time sabotaging a treaty which you ... " Amadeus cut off, his lips smacking together as he got a rein on his temper though it still blazed in his sharp, grey eyes. Taking a breath through his nose, Amadeus straightened his shoulders and looked at a point above Arthur's curly hair. This was infuriating. The man was weak. He had to be gotten rid of. Soon. "There was no provocation, Commander. This is just evidence that you cannot, and should not treat with the enemy. Ever." the Optio said with a lift to his upper lip that showed disdain for those who thought to negotiate with the blue animals that besieged the fortress. "I do hope that this has put paid to any more plans to negotiate with the woads, Sir? They cannot be trusted, they have proven it so. Why did you bring that one back, Commander? The woman? Why keep her alive? There are enough of our men dead to make her life forfeit in retribution." Oh Amadeus knew he was pushing it! He knew he was stepping over a line that he would not be able to retreat back from but he did not care anymore. He cared only about Badon Hill now, about the defense of this once great Roman stronghold! He cared about ensuring his position as it's new Commander when Castus was ousted. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 18 2010, 02:16 AM Post #422 |
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Author: Starbelle Date: Wed Apr 30, 2008 3:48 pm Tatiana
"She must be very lucky to have found someone special like you, Adian." Tatiana replied with a happy grin for him. "That's fine." She nodded in agreement to his comment.
"Adian.. I'm so so sorry.." The young stablegirl got up from her chair, her hazel eyes dimming like someone had blown out a candle when she heard the news. "I never knew or met her before, but she must have been very couragous to do what she did for that little boy. Can you tell me all about her? I'd really like to know her through you." Tatiana said as she got up from her chair and walking over to where the pile of food lay on the floor, but stopped herself from going any further, as both her friendship with Brendyn and the uncertainty of the situation froze her steps when she reached it hoping to calm him down with her soft voice, treating him like she would a terrified stallion in the stables. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 18 2010, 02:17 AM Post #423 |
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Author: sabor ice Date: Wed Apr 30, 2008 3:57 pm Ash It hadn't been difficult losing the healer, and luckily for him, he was amnesic, so even if he had been re-discovered, Ash would've simply fallen back into character. As the morning grew long, more patrons bustled about, making it much easier for Ash to blend in. It was astounding how obliviant the Romans were, and it made him wonder how his people ever could've succumbed to defeat against them in battle. The thought of defeat made Ash bare his teeth in disgust. How simple it would've been for him to slip about the homes of unsuspecting Romans in the night, slitting their throats while they slept, but alas, it was not meant to be. He was on a mission. Ash didn't accept failure, and he knew Merlin would not either. He had stayed mostly out of the public eye, studying every nook and cranny, memorizing every inch of the fort he had touched. He took mental notes on where men were stationed on the walls as well, and how often they rotated the guard. Luckily the wall near the stables where the Woads had infiltrated the fort during the last attack was not heavily guarded - it would make it much easier for Ash to admit his counter-parts later. Stealthily, Ash made his way back toward the heart of the fortress, being mindful of where he chose to lurk, and cautious so not to draw unwanted suspicion in his direction. He heard something then, a jingle of chains or something, and sounds of protest. Hunkering beneath the alcove of a building, Ash watched in silence as several soldiers came into view, and to Ash's astonishment, they had Eala forcibly in tow. He narrowed his hate-filled eyes, his body immediately tensing like a box of springs, and his nails digging into the ground beside his knee. It took everything in his power not to sneak up behind them and dispatch the soldiers as they were caught off guard. No, it was too risky. Instead Ash inconspicuously trailed them back to the infirmary. The soldiers and Eala disappeared inside, and Ash remained well hidden in the shadows. Listening. Watching. Waiting. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 18 2010, 02:19 AM Post #424 |
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Author: golden_trillium Date: Wed Apr 30, 2008 7:48 pm Linnette and Linnesse Once inside her room again, Linnette brushed off Linnesse's offers to help her dress as nicely as she could, insisting instead that her sister sit down in one of chairs and rest. And Linnesse, still noticeably short of breath after her near-run to catch up with Linnette, did not put up any more than a token protest- a fact that, while in a way a good thing, was also worrying; it meant she really was quite tired. Seeing this, Linnette paused to pour her out a cup of water from the very little left in the bottom of her jug, setting the mug before Linnesse with a tight, worried expression. Actually, the tightness was due to holding back tears, too- the sight of Gedeon's saddlebags, forlorn on the bed, had brought that urge to cry right back again. She had to take care of them some time, had to look through them and put away their contents properly- but she couldn't imagine doing that just now. Couldn't imagine it at all. To do that would be to dismantle the last clear evidence of his presence that she had left to her- the bags that he had packed with his own hands, arranging everything just the way he wanted it. No- she could never unpack them. They would just have to stay that way forever. But she couldn't stand here moping, either. With a deep, shuddering breath, forcing herself to look away from the bags and put them out of her mind, Linnette turned towards the clothes chest, where she quickly and efficientlly took out a dry dress- her red one- and the doffed the soaking wet one she was wearing without further preamble. Something else reminded her of Gedeon as she dressed, trying hard not to really look at anything- the cold heap of ashes in the brazier, where she had never even lit a fire last night. It reminded her suddenly and forcefully of the candle she had lit in the chapel for Gedeon last night, of the small glow of the flame and the smell of its burning. What if it had gone out? What if it wasn't burning any more? Would her remembrance and prayers for Gedeon still reach God and Jesus and the saints if it wasn't? The priest was supposed to keep an eye on the candles, make sure they stayed lit, but...what if he hadn't? What if he had been busy, called away for something? What if the candle had gone out? The thought siezed her, deepening its hold on her till it became a near panic, and she threaded her laces as hurriedly as she possibly could, then tugged her hair out of its braids almost roughly in her haste. Linnesse started forward a little, a half-uttered offer to help Linnette with her hair on her lips, but Linnette dismissed it with a brief sound, instead just pulling the loose hair back into a ponytail at the base of her head. It wasn't really a proper hairstyle for a grown woman, but it was better than just loose, and she had so little time! First Arthur and then the chapel...what if the candle had gone out? Perhaps she was fixating on that because she was, truthfully, nervous about being called before Arthur in her present state- but in any case, she worried about it, enough to make her stomach twist with the worry. She turned to help Linnesse up from the chair, an offer which was accepted- Linnesse's face was a little drawn with fatigue still, but the short sit in the chair seemed to have done some good- and went to the door, stepping out into the corridor in time to hear Drake ask Derfel a question that ended in the word "mission". Drake was still here? She blinked in mild surprise at that- but perhaps it was not so surprising if he and Derfel had been talking. "Derfel..." she stepped towards the two men, addressign herself to her brother-in-law, the idea coming to her even as she started to speak. Maybe he could check on the chapel for her...just to make sure? She couldn't ask that of Drake, for obvious reasons, or of Linnesse- it was too far for her sister to walk. But maybe Derfel wouldn't mind. Maybe. "I have to go see Arthur, but do you think you could do something for me? It won't take long." Her eyes were apologetically downcast at that, but as she began to explain they came up to meet Derfel's, pleadingly. "I...I know it's silly but...could you..." there was a catch in her voice now, a catch of crying kept sternly under control, but threatening any second. Curse it, she did not want to cry now, again! She could no go before Arthur looking all blotchy and teary, if she could possibly help it! "Could you go to the chapel and see if Gedeon's candle is still lit? It's the one..." she took a dep breath, blinking back tears and steadying herself. The trembling was staying out of her chin, thank God- that was a good sign, so far as it went. "The one closest to the front." Because Gedeon was the most recently dead. The unsaid explanation for that seemed to hang in the air for Linnette, and she hurriedly went on by way of covering it. "It's silly, but I just worry...please?" She blinked up at Derfel, her eyes shining with unshed tears, then glanced at Drake, almost automatically, as for reassurance. The fact that he was still here as, in some small way, reassuring; she didn't need anyone to walk her to Arthur's, she knew where it was and she was fine, but still...the fact that Drake had not just walked off was comforting, even if the reasons for his not doing so might have had nothing to do with her. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 18 2010, 02:20 AM Post #425 |
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Author: linnet Date: Wed Apr 30, 2008 8:03 pm Mother Lavinia
Lavinia was doubly worried when the badly injured woman lost consciousness after managing to speak her name. She was worried that the infection had spread beyond help, and she was worried that without Neeria’s assistance, the little girl would not be able to understand and accept her help. It didn’t take long to have her second worry proved valid. When the nun approached the woman, the youngster pushed her away. And to make things worse, the child was making Neeria’s treatment more difficult by throwing her own small body protectively over her unconscious kin. Lavinia cast a quick frustrated look skyward, silently praying for patience. The woman who had brought clothing for the Woads, and was staying to assist, appeared uncertain as to what to do to help. She looked to Lavinia for guidance. Because this assistant was not a nun, only a healer, Lavinia considered that the child might not be as frightened by her. But rather than ask the assistant to jump into the fray, Lavinia felt compelled to try calming the girl herself. There wasn’t time to waste for Neeria’s sake. The little Woad was eyeing the nun suspiciously, not about to let her touch the woman. Lavinia lowered her body to her knees, with much creaking, so that she would not tower threateningly over the child. She also lowered her voice, and spoke very softly and slowly, directly to the girl, guessing that she was able to hear a little, and pick up other things by sight. Lavinia kept her hands folded in her lap. “Neeria is hurt badly. She needs healing. I am a healer. I can help her now if you can help me.” Lavinia kept eye contact with the girl, hoping she understood, but seeing only blackness and distrust looking back at her. “I will not hurt Neeria. I will fix her wound, and you can stand by her and hold her hand so she is not afraid.” This definitely wasn’t Lavinia’s normal way of dealing with patients. But this was no normal patient. There had to be a more humane and Christian way of handling the girl than clamping her in chains or tossing her into a dungeon – she hoped. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 18 2010, 02:22 AM Post #426 |
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Author: lady ione Date: Wed Apr 30, 2008 9:01 pm Adian and Vanora
She had felt Bors pull her close before she turned to face Adian. The sooner she told him, the better she felt at not withholding what he wanted to know. Her felt tears though she really had not wanted to cry in front of Bors. She, too, had been there when the young woman was struck down. Now, the pain and sorrow that shown on Adian's face was one she could not picture until now. When she looked down at Bors, he had been grinning at Adian's question and had continued to eat.... Adian felt sick as he blindly stumbled backwards toward the door, shaking his head and murmuring that it could not have possibly happened. And the Baby? Was it dead as well? Tears of pure hate began to brim in his eyes as he looked at the faces around him. "just...just keep away from me....I-I mean it....You are all lying and...I want nothing to do with any of you!...hiding her from me..." The distraught man turned and fell over a chair only to pick himself up again.... Vanora wanted to go after him, but she wanted to stay close to Bors. Vanora could never imagine her life with out him in it, and it was situations like this taht made her greatful that he was still there for her. Right now, she just needed him to comfort her.... Not far from him, she saw Tatiana move slowly and cautiously to pick up the food from the floor. Adian had not heard what Tatiana had said to him at first, but his eyes followed her to the food that lie on the floor. He felt dangerous right now, and hoped that the young woman was wise enough not to follow him...he hoped that everyone in the tavern was that wise. When he thought he heard her speak, Adian just stood by the slightly opened door and turned his face to her....
Adian's eyes narrowed as he just looked at the copper haired woman like she was the enemy. Everyone was! Why could no one have saved his beloved wife to be from getting killed? Did she really have to die? The anger he felt now inside made him feel hot. "Don't talk to me like I am some nut case! No one could understand her the way I did! No one!" He looked at Bors, Vanora then back at the young woman whose sweet voice was trying to break through the bad feelings he was feeling. "And IF ye are wise, you'll not follow me! Do you understand?! I just ant to be alone!" With that he slammed the door open and stalked out of the tavern... Not far off, Fiona had come down the stairs from the wall, and had decided to get some breakfast before going to see Adian at the infirmary. She had been looking for him until an old lady told her that she had seen Adian in the infirmary the other day. As she approached the tavern, though, she stopped as she heard what sounded like yells and things being knocked over. It sounded like Adian! About that moment, the tavern door slung open and Adian ran by her. Adian thought he had seen her, but was not in the mood to have anyone staring at him in his angry weakened state. Without Thorn in his life, he was less than nothing.... Ione It was still early morning when the two male servants came to fix the door to the shop. Ione had watched them for a moment, before continuing folding the blankets she continuously made for the infirmary.It was the one thing the place needed...especially this time of year. Some of the shelves were not damaged so much that they could not hold the blankets, and she neatly stacked them there. The other blankets, she and another servant folded and placed to the left of the Infirmary blankets. These were the ones people came in to buy....those and the cloaks and yarns. These were how she made her money now... Ione went over to the shelf and stacked the last of the infirmary blankets on the top shelf, and turned toward the over turned table. The red yarn was still there....the one she had fixed Arthur's cloak with. He had repaid her kindness by granting her ownership of the weaver shop. Something else came to mind about the conversation: Arthur had told her that she was not a servant, but was at the fort under his protection...since the night Accolon had risked his life to bring her here. Ione never forgot his act of kindness toward her. She picked up the red strand and ran it through her fingers. Javier. Ione had recalled how much she had wanted to tell Arthur the good news of her engagement, and to have him meet the Commander who had become like a brother she had never had. She had always been sure that Arthur would have liked the southerner.... "Miss, where would you like these yarn spindles?" The low gentle voice belonged to one of the men who had helped fix the door. Now that it was fixed and hinged, it kept the shop a bit warmer. "Over next to the loom on that odd looking bar on the wall," Ione gestured toward the wall she mentioned. With the red yarn still him her hand, Ione went to the window and looked out at the Winter morning. She looked down at it, and then stuck it in her pocket as though it was a precious treasure, then returned her dark eyes to the gray day. Somewhere out in the great big world was Javier, the man who had stolen her heart. The young weaver looked down at the ring on her finger and touched it lightly somehow knowing that the dream had been too good to last.... Why could she not shake the feeling that her beloved was never coming back to her no matter how hard she wished? |
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