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| April 2008 | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Nov 5 2009, 10:37 PM (3,980 Views) | |
| golden_trillium | Mar 14 2010, 12:10 AM Post #76 |
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Author: Elessars Girl Date: Sun Apr 06, 2008 8:58 am Derfel
Linnesse appeared to be reassuring him, but something in her pale expression told Derfel that she was not as well as she was telling him. Yet right now, Dagonet and Linnette were in greater need of their care. He reluctantly allowed Linnesse to slip away as she went to her sister’s aid.
Derfel gave Saoirse a quick glance of concern as Dagonet attempted to move forward. With Linnesse no longer against his side, Derfel was at least able to use both his arms to support Dagonet’s weight so the redhead would not be burdened so heavily with the task.
“She’s right, Dag. Let me and Saoirse get you inside, aye?” Derfel spoke softly to Dagonet while tightening his grip around the taller man’s waist. “Lean on me, I gotcha now,” He continued knowing how difficult and utterly painful this moment had been for Dagonet. Derfel’s blue eyes went back to Linnesse silently indicating his support and love for her. And then to Linnette…which nearly broke his heart all over again. But Derfel kept a brave face, wishing to show only support and give Linnette any and all the strength she needed from him as well. If she would allow it. No matter the differences he and Linnette had in the past, Derfel would do all that he could to help her now. For Gedeon as well as for Dagonet. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 14 2010, 12:11 AM Post #77 |
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Author: Darya Date: Sun Apr 06, 2008 9:10 am Neeve And indeed the redhead reacted in almost the exact way as Neeve had expected her to do. With disbelief...combined with frustration and desperation. Had she not been the same back then when Markaad had not returned from a mission? Yet the difference had been, that no one had seen the dark knight dieing...no blood, not a single sign of him had been found. He had just disappeared. And the healer still secretly hoped to see him again one day... It was a part of what was keeping her going...the spark of hope that somewhere out there in the woods or some other fortress, Markaad was still alive. When Linnette almost stepped on her feet but jumped away just in time, Neeve managed to blink her own memories and the image of the dark knight’s face away and to focus on the here and now. The younger sister then almost ‘attacked’ Dagonet...and the raven-haired woman’s hands twitched as she wanted to grab Linnette by her shoulders to separate her from the weakened and injured knight. But it was not necessary in the end... The Briton then watched Linnesse shakily approaching...and then embracing her sister. It was tragic...and all that because of yet another damn battle...
No, Neeve would not call herself a very emotional person...at least not on the outside. But what was going on right in front of her now, made her guts pucker up and she had to swallow roughly. She felt awfully out of place and stiffly licked her lips before shifting her gaze from Linnette and Linnesse to Derfel. The silent question of 'how' and 'why' was reflected in her crystal-blue eyes as they met the Saxon’s. She had not known Gedeon very well, but he was...had been...Dagonet’s son and as for that, his loss was just as bad as if it were one of the other knights.
Then something 'clicked' inside Neeve and her healer instincts took over again. Cautiously, she stepped forward to stand by Derfel’s side. “We should get you all inside...”, she said quietly, yet firmly and eyed all people around her closer. Except for Saoirse, they all were wounded or ill...physically or emotionally or both. And it would do no good to Linnesse either to stay out in the cold rain for longer. Neeve was ready to order them all inside a building...but renounced this...for now. In respect for Linnette’s situation... |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 14 2010, 12:13 AM Post #78 |
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Author: Pinkie Date: Sun Apr 06, 2008 10:56 am Saoirse Would the ground open to swallow her! Saoirse tried not to listen to what Dagonet said. But she couldn't help but hear each nuance of his tone, each word spoken as if his heart was breaking. And she was also wondering what if it was Gedeon standing telling her the same thing... ? What if it was Gedeon who had come back without Dagonet, what if she was in Linnette's position? Those morbid thoughts were the only things that stopped Saoirse from reacting badly when Linnette took a hold of Dagonet's collar. Her head snapped up and she hissed in a breath, her arm clutching about her lover's back tighter to try stop him from falling or being dragged down by Linnette.
The woman was breaking down right in front of them. Saoirse felt such sympathy, empathy, but she couldn't help Linnette. Who could? She had to look after Dagonet now. He needed her. The red head licked her lips and then clamped her teeth together tight. She turned her blue eyes up towards Dagonet, peering once across at Derfel with an almost pleading look to her expression but knowing there was nothing he could do to stop this.
Saoirse swallowed roughly and nodded her head, looking at Linnette with the utmost respect and appreciation for putting Dagonet's health to the fore. It must have been incredibly hard but she did it -
The Irish woman just nodded her head, throat feeling swollen. She was not crying but she was doing everything in her power to hold them back and it hurt. It ached the back of her throat, it made her head feel like it was about to explode and her eyes felt like they were about to fall out of their sockets. She sniffled, placing a hand on Dagonet's strong stomach, turning her face towards him, standing on tippy toes to whisper by the end of his ear - "C'mon." she murmured, her voice thick with emotion. She sunk back to the flats of her feet, wincing in slight pain as the wound on her hip gave a throb of protest. She would have to get someone to stitch it eventually - it wasn't a deep wound but it was not closing properly. Saoirse glanced over at Linnette, finally meeting the woman's eyes. She had no words of comfort, no promises of things being better in the future, she didn't even have the courage to tell Linnette that time would heal the raw hurt that she was feeling now because it didn't. Time only made you stronger and more hardened to the pain. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 14 2010, 12:14 AM Post #79 |
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Author: lady ione Date: Sun Apr 06, 2008 11:02 am Brendyn Well, he discovered that his timing was not that great where disrupting men who looked over women were concerned. The man who addressed him seemed peeved about the interruption, but Brendyn dismissed it, though he did not miss the interaction between the man in charge and another soldier who had been nearby (Lucius). He pretended that he had not heard the interaction between them. What was said was between them and did not include him. Now, the man turned to look at Brendyn, his voice gruff, but Brendyn only stood at attention not wincing due to the gruff tone...
He had not said his name, but he had mentioned he was a transfer. All of this while the man sized him up and down. Brendyn prided himself on being well disciplined and toned as far as fitness, but his timing when addressing others needed work, and he had disturbed this man from moving about his business...
Brendyn fell in step with the man, and the other man next to him (Titus) as they moved off toward where his men waited. So far, he liked this man, and he seemed to be the type he'd follow into battle willingly...a bit like Arthur and Antonius. The young soldier looked slightly at the man next to him, and replied, "Sir, Centurion Quintus' clerk has my papers in his possession, and the Centurion briefly looked them over the day after the battle. My name is Brendyn." He left the answers at that as there was really no need to be chatty, unless the man had other questions, or orders for him... Standing a bit behind the two men, Brendyn watched as they both gave the men an informal inspection, then dismissed them after a small debrief. As the crowds cleared, Brendyn stood where he was. "Sirs, I would like to know who I am addressing." He had received a few injuries in the sudden scuffle with the woads while protecting the Centurion, and though he had not paid much attention to them, they would eventually need to be looked at.... |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 14 2010, 12:15 AM Post #80 |
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Author: LadyCastus Date: Sun Apr 06, 2008 11:46 am Neeria As the warrioress waited for a response, she peered at the scout, committing everything about him to memory. She fought back the urge to move closer to him and touch him, to see if her eyes were playing tricks on her. Surely she was seeing things - the loss of blood had affected her. She shook her head to clear her thoughts. Of course the man standing in front of her could not be her Mikel. She thought back to the vision she had of her dead husband after Connell had medicated her before the battle. In the dream, Mikel had said to her "Neeria, I will never leave you. I will always be with you." Had Mikel found his resting place inside of the man standing over her?
"Thank you, scout." she replied, wincing again at the pain in her side. Neeria stared, once again, at the tattoes on the man's cheeks. She wanted to ask him about them but the scout moved to the door and placed his hand on the knob, Neeria's mind raced. Suddenly she was very afraid and did not want to be left alone in the cold, dreary and very scary dungeon. "Won't you tell me scout, what is your name?" she asked again, "I am called Neeria." She practically held her breath, hoping he would answer and not leave her in the darkness. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 14 2010, 12:17 AM Post #81 |
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Author: Pinkie Date: Sun Apr 06, 2008 12:45 pm Amadeus
Amadeus gave Barbattus a level look for his preaching. In a round about way the soldier's Captain was saying that Amadeus was the weaker man because he had not been so badly injured as Castus was. Fool of a man. Who did he think he was? He was a lowly officer in the Roman Army - and the Roman Army of Britain only. Had this brawny piece of shit ever fought in a real battle? In a real war ahead of a real Roman Legion and not the pathetic excuse for an army that was stationed at Badon Hill. Oh they had potential! But their potential for growth had been stumped by Castus' weakness. And scars -- ! HA! The Optio could feel the weeping scar on the back of his thigh as it started to scab over, plastering his leather trousers to his skin and felt like slapping Barbattus for thinking anything so high of a scar. Barbattus was an idiot. True manhood and bravery was not inherent in just any man. It was a thing reserved for those of noble stock. Any lesser creature like Barbattus himself who was to be considered brave would have to admit, if under oath, that his 'bravery' was mere fluke. When Barbattus barked orders at Lucius, Amadeus listened, wanting to be able to pick some hole in what he had ordered of the most noble of soldiers at Badon Hill, but he failed to find any loopholes. So instead he gave a stiff nod of his head to Lucius, watching him walk away with only the barest hint of pride in his grey eyes. He would mould that man to his needs soon enough. Amadeus turned, about to take his leave of Barbattus when another male came to the front, clearing his throat and reporting. The Optio gave a roll of his eyes and did a stiff about-turn, stalking off, as much as he could given his wounded leg, towards the fortress. He was going to wash the damn badge of bravery on his thigh and he would have something to eat, then he would go deal with Arthur bloody Castus and his insane plans to 'mediate' with the woads again. Eala Exhaustion had finally taken Eala under. She was still bare naked, her tiny body giving convulsive shivers every now and then, but her big eyes were now closed. Her pale cheek was pressed to the wet ground and her nose was crushed up against one of the bars. One luminously pale arm stuck out the bars, the other was wrapped pathetically around her legs which were tucked up to her chest, attempting to preserve some warmth. There was a bowl of food, if you could call it that, about three inches from her little fingers. And it was in that vain attempt to reach the bowl of mushy, watery bread that Eala had finally given up. She was so tired, so wasted. She was more unconscious than 'asleep' to be honest. The clang of metal startled her and she shifted in her sleep, her black eyes blinked wearily. Her battered body twitched on the ground as she attempted to pool what strength she had to lift her head. When she did, it just flopped against the metal bars, her cheek crushed up against them. Voices... Eala felt tears prick the edges of her vision as she thought she heard a voice she recognised. She felt a choked sob threaten in her throat but in truth she had not the strength for it. Her eyes were closing again. She parted her lips, falling back into a deep slumber -- "Nnnn--" she moaned incoherently, smacking her lips and frowning. Her little head started to slide down the bars, the rusty bars leaving a few scratches on her pale cheek. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 14 2010, 12:20 AM Post #82 |
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Author: golden_trillium Date: Sun Apr 06, 2008 1:55 pm Linnette and Linnesse
"They're right...come on, sister," Linnesse urged her sister softly, peering worriedly into her face. Even as Dagonet, Derfel, and Saoirse got moving, slowly and awkwardly, Linnette at first did not move at all. She seemed almost oblivious to her external surroundings, her eyes just looking blankly at nothing, her hand still clutched around the ring, an occasional sniff her only sound, though her tears were still flowing. It seemed that it took her a moment to recognize Linnesse; she blinked a bit confusedly, then noticed that the others were ready to go. "Yes...I suppose so," she murmurrred, sniffing and swallowing at the end of that sentence. Her voice trembled; Linnesse could tell she was exerting all her control not to start just sobbing again. She cast a despairing glance over at Derfel, and the thought- uncharitable though it might be- came into her head: this could be me. Linnette, who stood there sobbing in the rain, never to see her man again- that could be me. If that battle had gone even slightly otherwise- that could be me. A part of her wanted to rush over to Derfel again and hug him- but she couldn't do that. She had to stay at Linnette's side. She reached out in the other direction, hoping to bring Neeve back to her side to support her so that neither Derfel nor Linnette would have to worry about it, and now they were on their way back to the infirmary, their steps infinitely heavier than they had been on the way there. The whole day had taken on such a different cast, now- everything, absolutely everything, was changed. "He never wore this- it was too small," Linnesse heard Linnette murmur the words, very quietly as she walked, and looked over at her again, seeing her staring down into her palm that held the ring. Drops of water beaded it, and strands of her red hair clung to her forehead and cheeks. She had made no effort to put up the hood of her cloak, and Linnesse reached out for it, trying to pull it up for her as she walked- but she couldn't quite reach it from here, and Linnette either was oblivious to her efforts, or she didn't care- she made no move to help, and Linnesse's hand slipped back down without having done anything to help. Tristan
Neeria, then. Why was she so insistent on knowing who he was? It was rather unnerving, actually- she was an enemy, she shouldn't have any interest in him personally. She shouldn't care, she should shout and spit and writhe like all other Woads did, in that not-quite-human way of theirs. She certainly shouldn't be thanking him for his help, and introducing herself to him, as though she expected to sit down for a nice little chat. Tristan felt his heart hardening up in his chest, his back stiffening as he made up his mind to resist her. She was trying to manipulate him into something. "I have no name," he answered, his voice a husky whisper, deep in his throat. His eyes raked over her one last time, trying to see if there was anything else he needed to be wary of- but he saw only a wounded Woad woman, frightened, and trying to sway him somehow to sympathize with her. The less time he spent in this cell, the better. With a last piercing look, but no further words, Tristan pushed the door open and left the tiny room. "She needs a healer. Arthur wants her ready to go," he repeated to the guard just outside, passing the message on, and then his part in this little disaster was over. He hoped the woman died of her wounds- it would make things a lot simpler, and they would not have to deal with her deceptions again. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 14 2010, 12:21 AM Post #83 |
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Author: lady ione Date: Sun Apr 06, 2008 3:53 pm Bors He had stood back from the crowd watching all that went on. His heart went out to Linnette, but he never had gotten the hang of giving a compassionate shoulder to one in sorrow. Dagonet was rather good at it, and Bors decided that at some time he should take lessons on how to be tough and yet compassionate. No one paid him much mind while he stood not far off from his best friend, Saoirse and the rest, but then, that was quite proper. All he wanted to do was somehow let Linnette know he was there for her... He watched as Derfel and Saorise moved to lead Dag off, and Bors wanted to be there for him. Out of the corner of his eye, Bors saw Linnette. He was no good at condolences, but he hoped that Linnette knew that Vanora would be there if she needed anything... Dagonet would have done the same. Limping forward, Bors asked, 'Dagonet, if there is anything I or Vanora can do for you or Linnette...we will be close. You'd do the same for me...' He lay a firm but understanding hand on the taller knight's arm, but did not want to detain them from taking him to be looked after. Looking at Derfel and Saoirse, Bors said, 'I will be close if you need me, Dagonet....' Adian The wounded were beginning to come in now, and they'd have their hands full. The one healer worked steady but quickly to mend the opened gash made by the spearhead. Stitching the last of the wound together, her assistant moved off to collect the herbs needed to make a pultice as well as some clean cloth for bandages. The guard that had been standing by as though their patient was going to cause trouble, eyed the woman as she returned. The healer stood from her place having finished the last two stitches, and discarded the needle into a jar next to the bed, then moved off to leave the other healer to finish tending the man. As she made the pultice and then wrapped the wound, Adian moaned a bit murmuring something about Thorn and a child, and some woman named Juna. Tying the bandage securely, the healer stood from where she sat and began to clean the area, while the guard studied the man with curiosity: the injured man was dressed funny, and there was a wildness about him, but how in the name of heaven did a civilian get outside the gates, and where did he come by the clothes? The guard had seen him in the tavern a few times, the first time to buy ale for his horse....then after a while, he came to pick up his lady friend (Thorn)...then with another young woman (Fiona). In that time, after the last woad attack, meat had begun to appear in the tavern. And this young man certainly had not been dressed like that but a black cloak, high boots, a loose tunic and dark brown pants he had tucked into the top of his boots... Adian moaned again, and the young woman propped him up slightly at a comfortable angle, then prepared to move off and help tend to more wounded. She would love to have stayed next to the handsome "prisoner", but duty called. "If he wakes up and needs anything, do flag me down," She said to the guard. The guard nodded, then went back to contemplating the young man. Ah, he had been about the fort, and so easily for one who seemed to be "just a farmer". The guard's eyes narrowed as he studied the scars on Adian's chest and sides...they seemed to travel to his back. Adian, himself, felt like he was floating, and he had heard voices, but now they had gone off. The pain in his shoulder was a dull pain, and his whole body ached. The young hunter's lips moved slightly though he was not awake, 'Thorn....my...sweet...Rose...I have...come...back' |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 14 2010, 12:23 AM Post #84 |
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Author: Pinkie Date: Sun Apr 06, 2008 4:51 pm Galahad Perhaps it was naivety that had Galahad so oblivious to Alina's torn mind. He would never presume that she had cheated on him whilst he was gone. It would just never occur to him to think that she might need someone other than himself. So he had not been there for her when her cousin had died... unfortunately he had a 15 year service to pay to Rome. He would have given anything to have stayed with her when she needed him, but his blood would not allow it. His servitude to Rome would not allow it. It occurred to the curly-haired Knight that maybe he should tell Alina this... Galahad reluctantly left Alina's side to put his horse into it's stall, brushing it down as best he could before the wound on his stomach meant he had to give up the task to a younger squire and went to Alina's side, face downcast, his saddlebags slung over his shoulder. He was about to whine to her about how shaming it was for a Sarmatian Knight to be unable to tend to his own horse, but she gave him no chance, taking him by the hand and leading him, swiftly towards the fortress. Walking through the corridors, Galahad frowned, noticing alot more soldiers than normal, alot more activity than normal. The two entered the room and Galahad sighed, sliding past Alina and slinging his saddlebags onto the floor next to his bed. He gracelessly flopped down onto the bed, arms sprawled hither and tither, one leg dropped down over the side of the bed and the other angled across the mattress, blue eyes staring desolately at the ceiling. He felt empty inside. He felt really cold inside. It sounded pathetic, even in his own head. Large, puppy-dog eyes turned to Alina, his bearded cheek lightly resting against his shoulder.
Galahad saw her attempt to lift his spirits and found enough warmth inside of himself to return the smile, though it was watery weak. He pursed his lips and looked down to the side at his shoulder, chin tucked to his collarbones as he lifted a hand and started to untie the laces that held his leather body armour in place. "It's just a small gash, promise. Some fool of a woad was a little free with his axe - caught me by surprise..." Galahad murmured, fingers knotting in teh laces as he frowned. Blowing out his cheeks, he sat up on the bed, shoulders sagged, back hunched, and turned his head away from Alina, attempting the other side having given up with the awkward knots on that shoudler. "Tristan lost his horse. Dagonet's hurt really bad too. And Arthur. Are ... Are you ok?" Galahad asked suddenly, his head whipping around and his hand falling to his lap as his blue eyes glanced to her bruised jaw and then to her eyes. He had noticed it earlier but had been too distracted to ask about it. Mari It felt nice to be all alone for so long. Mari was normally all too eager for company and lots of it, the more the better. With Milan around it was different. She wanted time alone with him to get to know him. She wanted him to be with her always, like this. Alone. Open. Honest. It was never awkward with Milan, it was never an effort to be with him. She could be herself, simply and wonderfully. And she liked to think that when he was with her that Milan was being himself too. His large hands lifted out of the water, stroking along her upper arm. Mari smiled, biting her bottom lip gently when he looked back to smile at her. The sight of his smiling lips so close to hers made her heart skip a beat. It set her breathing to a faster pace too, the whole world seems to be warmed by that smile. Her world at least.
Mari smiled, her stomach doing a peculiar, fluttering flip when he said it. Goosebumps ranged up and down her arms when he turned in the water, her arms about his middle so that her palms now pressed into the small of his back. Mari's eyes were bright with pride in how clear and precise the utterance of her name was from his lips. He said it again and kissed her again, causing the goosebumps to lift further along her arms, to her shoulders. A third time saw her shiver, giggling girlishly against Milan's lips. Her slick chest was laid tight against Milan's in this position but for some reason the water felt like a barrier, it felt like the water prevented them from physically touching beneath the surface. The young woman allowed Milan to utter her name and kiss her tenderly a dozen more times before giving another giggle, sliding her hand up his bare back to the hair at the nape of his neck. She ran her fingers through it lightly, pursing her lips as she looked at him critically, assessingly. "That's easy for you isn't it? My name." she said with a giggle, all sadness from their earlier conversation seeming to evaporate with his gentle kisses, "I like that, I like that it's easy for you to say my name. I think you can be as comfortable with other words if we ... keep trying them." Mari said, thinking, "Do you want to try?" she asked with a hopeful smile, wading a step away from Milan, tilting her head at him, her arms extended so that she still had her hands on his shoulders. "We can do colors! And names, and things like ... like ... water." Mari splashed one hand into the water lightly, eager, "And you could teach me to read then... I would so love to be able to read." the young woman said with a sweet lift to her dark eyebrows, eyes hopeful as she looekd into Milan's innocent blue orbs. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 14 2010, 12:25 AM Post #85 |
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Author: sabor ice Date: Sun Apr 06, 2008 5:04 pm Alina
"I'll be the judge of that," she told him with a meaningful look at his presumption that his wound was 'small.' Alina appreciated Galahad's rambling, as it helped to fill up the empty spaces where awkward silence lingered. Even with the distraction, though, it didn't relieve the uncomfortable feeling in the pit of her stomach. So instead, she busied herself with preparing what medical supplies were available. She couldn't help but stop at one point, though, and look Galahad over as he lay flopped on the bed. There was something boyishly adorable at the way he lay, fiddling with his laces, but the severity in his features betrayed his youth, making him appear much older than she remembered. It seemed that every time he went off to battle and then returned, he lost just a little more of his life force and soul. It was somehow horrifying for Alina to see him in such a state. She wanted nothing more than to climb into his embrace and hold him like she used to, but she didn't know if she could. Alina didn't know if what she felt for him now was strong enough, or if she was good enough to keep him.
The sudden turning point in his rambling caught her a bit off guard, but she managed to just shrug it off and dispel his inquiry with a tired smile. "I'll live," Alina replied. The healer breathed deeply, trying to clear her mind. A small smile tugged at her lips as she watched him impatiently attempt to get his armor off. She came beside him and immediately reached out to help him untie the laces. Her patience made the effort less fruitless than his had been, and in a short matter of time, his body armor was all tugged off and abandoned on the floor. "Take off your tunic," she instructed, briefly turning back toward the basin of stale water to dip in a cloth. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 14 2010, 12:26 AM Post #86 |
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Author: Pinkie Date: Sun Apr 06, 2008 5:58 pm Galahad
He already knew that... It made Galahad feel 'home' to have Alina chide him with that look in her eye. Oh he would never admit to liking it, but there was a homely feel to having her take care of him, in having her care about him. That is what set Alina apart from the other women he had taken to his bed in his years at Badon Hill. Alina cared. And he cared in return. It was so simple in his head, but when it came to practice it had proven much more complicated. But still, the idea was right, Galahad thought. Galahad's tired blue eyes watched Alina though her back was to him, her head turned away so he couldn't see the bruise now. He didn't like the thought that she had been involved in the fighting that had gone on and wanted to know that she had not seen anything she shouldn't have done, that she had not had herself put into some kind of mortal danger.
The young knight pursed his lips. His tired mind was noticing a certain something in Alina's manner as she came to the bed to help him with his armour. Well, if 'help' meant that she was doing it for him because he was too out of it to focus on the laces. Galahad watched her work, his eyes intent on her face, looking at the bruise, looking at how clean her fingernails were, as if she had bathed sometime recently. That was a good thing - to Galahad. It meant she had had some time to herself, relaxing. At her brusque order, Galahad reacted like a child. He reached a hand down the centre of his back and pulled the tunic upwards, pulling it off over his head and making his curly hair stand on end in a messy heap. He sloppily dropped the tunic onto the ground and looked down at his stomach. Because of the way he was sitting the muscles in his abdomen were creased, the wound 'bulged' just above his hip looking lightly yellow in the centre and jagged about the edges. It was about the length of one of his fingers. Galahad sighed, straightening his back so that the wound was 'straight'. He pouted out his bottom lip assessingly, looking over at Alina. "How'd it happen?" he queried, referring to her jaw and lifted a gentle hand to brush the pale skin above the dark bruise tenderly. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 14 2010, 12:28 AM Post #87 |
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Author: Lancelot Date: Sun Apr 06, 2008 7:06 pm Lancelot
Lancelot frowned heavily at Arthur's words. He stepped up next to the other man, and raised his dirt covered brows. The area around his eye sockets was shockingly white - making his dark irises seem to jump out of his angular face. "What you must do is follow the healers' advice, commander. Let us wait and see what they say, hm?" He crossed his arms, and let go of the wounded spot. If he was going to bleed to death, so be it. He was too tired to care anymore, and besides, if he didn't get Arthur to his quarters and seen to by the healer or doctor, it wouldn't matter what happened to Lancelot. If Arthur died, surely Lancelot and the others wouldn't be long for this world. Thinking on that, Lancelot knew that Arthur would feel slighted - did feel slighted - when Lancelot had brought that point up earlier. He knew the Roman thought Lancelot only wanted Arthur alive so Lancelot himself would live - and yes, that was a good thing - but it wasn't the only reason he cared. The other reasons were still in a part of Lancelot's mind that wasn't quite ready to be examined deeply yet. But he felt it coming - and knew that this time he couldn't put off making changes (of any kind) for much longer. And that did not make him happy.
Lancelot pursed his lips. "She's in the scout's hands now, Arthur. I wouldn't worry about Tristan being overly mean to the itty-bitty sweet lady prisoner." He made his voice syrupy sweet, and sighed at the end of his sentence. Arthur's weird sense of morality would be the end of him, the Sarmatian was sure. He followed Arthur and Darya as they began the walk to the quarters area; Lancelot's blades for once feeling heavy and bulky. He touched the bottom of one - whispered a word of peace - and they seemed to quiet. It was unusual when the swords didn't feel like part of him. He could tell it was going to be a long few weeks. Arthur seemed to waver for a moment, and Lancelot cocked his head, intent on saying something, but the Roman kept walking, so Lancelot merely shrugged and stayed close. He noted the nasty Optio and Malcus chatting with a soldier Lancelot did not know; all three men looked unhappy. Lancelot chased a grin off his face quickly at that - fuck that hooked-nosed bastard. He would get what was coming to him.
Lancelot looked at her, not sure if his kinswoman was speaking to him or to her lov- Arthur. He tried a rough smile - it was quick and angry and showed most of his teeth. "Ask your commander, here," he said, gesturing to Arthur. "He has a stick to the ribs." Lancelot looked over at Arthur as he spoke. He sighed and raked the hand of his uninjured arm through his sweaty, limp hair. The chill in the air and the light drizzle did little to help his mood. "He needs to see the healer. Now." |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 14 2010, 12:29 AM Post #88 |
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Author: linnet Date: Sun Apr 06, 2008 7:56 pm Juna
Juna was intent on stopping the bleeding that had already weakened the young Woad to the point of unconsciousness. Merlin’s words reached her from where he sat just outside her entrance-way. They really didn’t register though since their connection to anything wasn’t apparent. So she didn’t pay much attention as he was apparently talking to himself, or having a conversation with the gods again. Besides, when she worked, her attention was usually so focused, that it was never easy to disrupt her concentration.
She knew he was addressing her now, but had no idea what ‘that’ he was talking about. “Wait just a minute, Merlin. I’m almost finished here,” she said with a touch of harried irritation slipping through. She was in the midst of trying to force some liquid concoction down the frail boy’s throat. Being unconscious, he wasn’t co-operating, so she was trying to hold his head up, keep his mouth open, pour in the medicine, close his mouth, and massage his throat to make him swallow. So far she’d watched more of the stuff run down the side of his face than disappear into his body, and she didn’t want any more wasted. When she was satisfied that he’d ingested enough to help rebuild his strength, she stood up, wiped her hands on her dirt and blood stained skirt, and raked her still damp hair away from her face. Stepping outside, Juna instructed the two waiting men to take the boy, carefully, to someplace sheltered. She mentally added him to the list of those she would find and check on again later. Then she turned to Merlin. “I’m sorry,” she said almost sheepishly in spite of the smile she wore from the sight of him sitting against her shelter. “You asked if I would help with something. What do you need?” She reached out her hand, offering him something to grab to pull himself back up to his feet. Watching his face, she waited to hear what he wanted of her. She wasn’t quite ready to agree without knowing what he had in mind. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 14 2010, 12:30 AM Post #89 |
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Author: Kayla Date: Sun Apr 06, 2008 8:36 pm Fiona
Fiona was not one to want to be the bearer of bad or anything other than good news, especially not with someone she had only just met recently and someone that her sister had obviously cared about when the young woad had seen them together. But Brianna's doubts or whatever was going on in the blonde woad's mind must have gotten to her, causing her to drop everything and leave. She didn't know if her sister would ever return but it didn't seem like she would and the young woman hated the thought of how long it could be before she saw her again, especially if she was in Avalon by the spring. The woad pushed a breath of air out of her mouth when the knight in front of her asked why Brianna had left. His tone of voice didn't startle her, since she had known deep down that this was something he would want to know. It was not something she had wanted him to ask but no matter how much she didn't want to answer it, she knew she couldn't keep her sister's message from him. Something broke through her train of thoughts, however, momentarily distracting her from what she was going to tell him.
This distraction was something that caused a look of confusion to appear on Fiona's face as she looked back and forth between Gawain, Bors and Vanora a couple of times then followed the knight's gaze to a group standing a distance away, and she could only presume that they were possibly the family of this 'Gedeon', whom Gawain had pronounced as dead. Her expression turned into one of sympathy as she looked on at them for a brief moment.
She could sense a change in his tone, as if he was too weary to keep up the insistance he'd had before. Fiona sighed, glancing down at the ground for a minute then looked back up at him. "She didn't feel safe here behind the Roman walls. And she thought that maybe you weren't ..." The woad paused for a moment, not able to look Gawain in the eye, as if she was the one thinking these things and not just acting as the messenger. But that wasn't the case; she had no intention of wanting to make him upset in any way and she hoped that her sister hadn't wanted to either. " ... that you weren't ready for a child," she said, the words coming out as quickly as she could string them together while still sounding coherent. This situation was uncomfortable, to say the least. "I'm sorry," she murmured quietly, shaking her head and looking back up at him, finally daring to catch his eye again. It was hard for her that Brianna was gone, but she knew it was much worse for him. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 14 2010, 12:32 AM Post #90 |
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Author: LadyCastus Date: Sun Apr 06, 2008 9:15 pm Neeria
Neeria lowered her eyes as the scout refused to answer her question. She sank back against the cold, damp wall and shivered. Someone's, possibly the previous inhabitant's, blood was splattered on the wall. There were mixed smells of death, human waste, and vomit that permeated the air. Neeria still wore nothing more than her leather breast straps, leather pants and only one boot. Her teeth chattered uncontrollably. The woman shivered from both cold and fear. She wrapped her arms around herself in a hug and tried to capture some of her own body heat, which of course, was futile. Neeria was a woad warrior, Guinevere's best lieutenant, but she was cold, hurt and afraid and the fear of being left alone in this horrible stinky place consumed her. She thought of her beloved Merlin, her shan-ti, not knowing if he'd even survived the second attack. If he had survived, she wondered, did Mona return to him with news of Neeria's capture? Would they come and rescue her? Would Guinevere take the risk of returning to the fortress? And what of Arthur Castus? What were his plans for her? She'd promised to turn Merlin over to him in exchange for her life. Neeria raised her eyes again as Tristan turned his back to her and opened the door. Panic struck her like a ton of bricks as she struggled and stood up again, rushing to the door behind him as it shut. Now the room was dark (the window faced a stone wall, letting in very little light at best) and Neeria was alone and terrified. On the other side of the door, she heard Tristan's voice.
The woad, held her side with one hand and banged loudly on the door with the other and shouted, "SCOUT! PLEASE DON'T LEAVE ME! Just give me a blanket so that I don't freeze to death! SCOUT!!" she screamed as loudly as she could, not knowing if he even heard her. Barbattus Malcus rubbed his tired eyes and rotated his stiff neck. He had a headache.
Malcus heard the young man speak, but didn't acknowledge Brendyn until the unit had been dismissed. Finally, the Captain turned around and said, "very well......Brendyn," and gave the soldier a once-over again. "I suppose with everything's that's been going on, there is a good reason why I wasn't informed of your arrival." Malcus said with a barely concealed tone of dissatisfaction. My name is Commander Malcus Cicero Barbattus and this is my first lieutenant, Titus." Malcus said, pointing out Titus with a tip of his head. Barbattus looked at the young man again and couldn't quite put his finger on why, but favored him. Malcus was an excellent judge of character almost immediately. He noticed the young man favoring one side and realized that he must be hurt. "Normally I would send you directly to your squad commander, but I want Titus to take you to the medicus and have you checked out first. Afterward, report to me for further instructions. Are you clear?" Malcus asked, already moving on to his next two tasks - the double-watch schedule and then checking on Lucius. |
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