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| May 2008 | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Mar 18 2010, 02:23 AM (3,616 Views) | |
| golden_trillium | Mar 18 2010, 02:23 AM Post #1 |
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summary here |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 18 2010, 02:24 AM Post #2 |
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Author: Unicorn Date: Thu May 01, 2008 4:41 am Mirtha Mirtha watched Ione walking towards the staris. And he remembered the expression of her face a moment ago... her eyes were looking so directly in his and a wave of disbieleve was there as he talked about drinking. He could not stop drinking... He had done it to long. Nobody ever told him stop, maybe it was because of it. He shook his head silently as she turned to look at him already on the steps.
Mirtha smiled back at her and as she was away he liked his lips and closed his eyes. There was still the taste of her on them... he still felt a woman taste. And his drunken mind thought he will see her later for doing the same they had a moment earlier. His drunken mind made his world spin and he sat on the floor, beside the chair. Slowly he reached behind him without even looking and took another bottle from the hay he stored there. Took few sips of wine and soon it made his mind just stop... Memory of past few hours went away and he passed out, mumbling something in his sleep. Morning came swiftly and Mirtha was awaken by noises from the main stables. He heard steps somewhere near him and his one eye went open... His head hurted so much.. He still had a bottle in his hand, squeezing it tightly to his chest. There was a laugh above him and he looked up to see one of the young stable boys covering his mouth for not to laugh louder. "What the hell??" Mirtha murmured and when he reliesed finally that it was a morning, he shook his head and threw a bottle towards the young boy. "Get to work!" he shouted at him furiously. The boy dogded before the bottle hit the wall beside him and crushed into small pices, and then he run away quickly. Mirtha slowly moaning slightly sat up and once more closed his eyes. Shook his head and put a hand over his forhead. What the hell he had done yesterday now? And why the hell was he in the loft? After a second all returned to him. Gods! Did he? Did they? "Fuck..." He took an effort to stand up on his feet and look around, there was no sign of anything in the place... but surely his mind wasn't playing on him? Doesn't it? He had fucked a woman... No he had woman's body... Ione's body. Fuck.... He shouldn't... He did not remember everything, but her face was clear in his mind. She offered her help to him... "Best fucking start of the day..." he muttered and moved to go down to the stables. His moves weren't so sure... The last night's drinking taking it's spoils. He had to eat something... He walked away from the stables even if few of his workers came into his way with questions or reprot. He did not care just now.. he had to drink water and eat something.. and think... Then he will find Ione and ask her what happened.... If he had hurted her in some way.. as he was feeling guilty right now. Soon he reached the tavern with heavy head and walked inside. They were many people already in the place. He walked directly to the bar and waited for anybody to take his order. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 18 2010, 02:25 AM Post #3 |
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Author: Darya Date: Thu May 01, 2008 7:01 am Darya & Neeve Darya had not noticed that she was practically holding on to the window-sill once the Optio and Arthur exchanged the first words. She had her back turned towards the window…and her hands behind her back almost clinging to the cold stones of the window-sill as she did so…hidden from everyone else’s sight. What a poor sight they all must give to the younger of the two Romans in the room. She knew she still looked like a mess…but there was no way she would leave Arthur’s side…unless the Commander wanted her two, which in all truth she hoped he did not. Lancelot and Arthur both still looked battle worn…and the healer… Well, she looked tired but probably more presentable than the other three of them. While listening to the two Romans talking, Darya’s dark gaze shifted towards Lancelot. There was this certain expression on her fellow Sarmatian’s face…the one that made him unpredictable… She knew how much the First Knight disliked the Optio…and for his own sake hoped that he had his temper under control. Her eyes lingered a bit longer on him, as if she could will him to stay calm…despite the fierce words the Optio had just spoken… Was there accusation in the younger Roman’s words? The female Sarmatian frowned as she slowly averted her gaze from Lancelot and glanced at Amadeus instead. And what Woad woman was he talking about? "The Gods give reasons."…that is what Merlin had said when Darya had asked him why he had broken the truce. The Woad leader’s words echoed in the dark-haired’s mind. “Tell your Roman the truce is over. Tell him we will meet again in the battlefield.”...those had been Guinevere’s words, which the Sarmatian also recalled clearly. Yet none of this actually made sense to her at the moment...thus Darya attempted to focus on what Scipio had to say. Perhaps the Optio knew more... When the Optio entered the room, Neeve assessed him thoroughly. She had not met him before and only knew about him as some soldiers at the infirmary had told her a few things while she had tended to them. This Scipio was certainly younger than she had expected…and he looked as proud a Roman as one could. However, when he replied to Arthur’s questions, the healer could not help but arch an eyebrow at the Optio’s words. She was 'only' the healer, but if this would end up to be a fierce argument that would only wore the Commander out and make his current state worse again, she would have to interfere. And no doubt, Lancelot would happily join her. But as so long as Arthur was doing okay in her eyes, she would merely do what she usually did: observe and learn. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 18 2010, 02:26 AM Post #4 |
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Author: Starbelle Date: Thu May 01, 2008 1:16 pm Tatiana
"Adian..I wasn't..I don't mean to.. I didn't." Tatiana said puzzled confusion showing in both her eyes and in her soft voice. After finishing cleaning up the rest of what was supposed to be a quiet breakfast, she glanced over her shoulder at Vanora and Bors, her hazel eyes gone from bright green to a muted one, shiny with tears as Tatiana wasn't quite sure just what to do next and heartily wishing that her Brendyn was there to help. "Vanora, what happens now? How long does it take for a hurt like that to heal?" Tatiana asked in a small little girl's voice once all of the color in her face that had been there earlier from Adain's playful flirting drained away as the implication of what Adian said to her hit home, causing a kaleidoscope of feelings to dance across the young stablegirl's face in reaction to her own hurt feelings. "I was only trying to help him." She said sadly, looking around for something to pick up the mess with. Brendyn, I wish that you were here. I miss you so. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 18 2010, 02:27 AM Post #5 |
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Author: Elessars Girl Date: Thu May 01, 2008 2:14 pm Arthur Continuing to wear the mask of ‘Commander’ and continuing to expertly hide his pain, Arthur unflinchingly held Amadeus’ gaze….assessing the Optio’s reaction and recognizing frustration on the other man’s face. It had been a simple question, had it not? Arthur may not be at his best this morning, but he had not lost his uncanny ability to read people.
This cocky fucker had overstepped his bounds! Lancelot’s hand went immediately to the hilt of his concealed dagger, dark eyes flickered to Arthur ready to shut the bastard up for good with a single slice across his arrogant little neck. Arthur did not flinch, nor did he break eye contact with Amadeus. But he knew Lancelot well and slightly raised his right hand (palm face up) to indicate that his lieutenant should hold….there was no need for physical violence. Amadeus may have his say for the moment as was Arthur’s way.
Enough. Thanks in part to a small rise in blood pressure lending Arthur strength, the Commander stood up from the bed to meet Amadeus’ challenging gaze on equal ground. Except as Arthur squared his shoulders to his full height, he had the advantage of actually looking down at the Optio despite the fact he was still barefoot. His side twinged and Arthur was forced to carefully place a hand over his stitches, but his movements were slow and deliberate and purposely intimidating. Yet much to his credit, Amadeus continued…..
“To address your first concern, Amadeus,” Arthur began evenly despite emerald eyes ablaze and brows drawn tightly together. The Commander would show patience; take his time in discussing the Optio’s concerns…one issue at a time and with well thought out words. “I have known Merlin for many years, sir, thus I do believe that I am a far better judge of his character than you at this juncture,” Arthur slightly chided Amadeus and then paused again to allow his words to wash over the Optio’s hasty comments. Lancelot gritted his teeth and inwardly growled at the damn Optio. He had heard Arthur’s voice, but all that Lancelot was listening to was his own inner voice plotting the demise of this pompous ass. However, Amadeus had made one valid point: there was no trusting the Woads. And gods damn them all if Arthur would not see this once and for all. “And that brings me to your next point of contention,” Arthur offered a rather wry smile as he continued; voice remaining calm and gaze still focused sternly on Amadeus’s grey eyes. “The captured woman will take me to Merlin. Or she will sacrifice her life. That is the bargain I struck with her,” Arthur flatly stated. “She will most likely die either way if I know Merlin at all,” He added with a small smile and a slight tilt of his head. Arthur’s side twinged again and he willed the thing to quiet. He had every intention of riding to Merlin’s encampment this morning as surely last night’s rest was enough to rejuvenate Arthur’s strength….God willing. But the longer he stood upright, Arthur’s head had begun to throb and he felt too weak to pull on his boots, let alone mount his horse. God forgive me, but I believe Lancelot will win this quarrel. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 18 2010, 02:30 AM Post #6 |
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Author: Pinkie Date: Thu May 01, 2008 2:24 pm Mari
Mari shut her brown eyes when Milan pushed her hair back from her face. It was an enjoyable feeling and the touch of his soft fingertips on her cheek made her think it might be a better idea to remain where she was and just enjoy his presence a little longer. His staggered words made her open her eyes, a gentle looking coming over her as she looked at his lips moving, up to his eyes to try and decipher how he felt about being able to speak his thoughts. "Please do ... I'll bring breakfast too." the young woman said in a low murmur, leaning forward to kiss Milan's lips gently. It was just a soft touch at first, and the bottom half of her body started to slide away from him off the side of the bed. Mari tilted her head and kissed his lips again, giving a soft moan of appreciation and regret as she flopped onto her feet. She stood up, wobbling on her feet a little, lifting a small hand to her lips as she looked down at Milan impishly. "Don't ... don't go anywhere ok?" she laughed gently, leaning back down for one more kiss. Her hand touched the side of his neck lovingly and she withdrew with her eyes closed. Turning around, Mari washed her face in the stagnant water bowl, wiped off her dusty dress and promised to find something else to wear today. She donned her purple cloak and blew Milan a kiss. "Back soon..." she promised, pulling open the door and stepping out into a chaotic scene. There were soldiers everywhere! Mari's wide brown eyes looked around for the easiest way out and when she saw it she dashed forward, head down, seeking her father. Catherine Catherine swanned into the tavern with a graceful sway of her hips and a beaming smile on her clean face. Her hazy green eyes looked left and right as she moved forward, assessing the customers that were there. It was well before noon, well before her rendez-vous with Tristan, but she had enough time to make a few acquaintainces in the meantime. Her blonde hair was glistening, it was scented with jasmine and the waft of it almost shimmered in her wake. She was an enigma - a beautiful enigma in such a cold, wet, smelly place. The whore knew her worth. Her worth was her body and she had to keep that as beautiful as possible for now. She saw Bors and Vanora, there was a commotion with some other people she only knew to see. Catherine pursed her lips, walking past wth her head turned, watching a moment before shaking her head and looking forward. That was none of her business. She approached the counter and turned, an elegant hand placed on the counter-top, as she perused the place. A dirty blonde head buried in a corner caught her eye. A half smile lifted one side of her lips. Would she be so lucky to make the acquaintance of two Knights in the one morning? The man she had her eye on was Gawain. Defined by his long, shaggy and woefully grubby looking hair. He didn't look particularly well - injured perhaps? Catherine pouted, walking over to his table. She lowered her chin, looking out from under her eyelashes at the male with a sympathetic pout to her lips. "Lonely?" she asked in a sweet, airy tone of voice. Eala Eala was not about to be fooled by a pretense of kindness. She knew these Romans! She knew their ways! She knew that they only delivered death! What made this one so different? She lived behind the walls did she not? She subscribed to the ideals of the Roman way of life did she not? She was as Roman as the soldiers that had killed her parents. She was as Roman as the blonde man that had killed her brother Donnchadh. Large black eyes narrowed when teh woman hunkered down to be more on a level with her. Eala looked at the healer and down at Neeria, feeling a surge of panic begin to form in her stomach. Why did Neeria have her eyes closed?!
The blonde grit her teeth, watching the woman's lips move and translating it as best she could in her mind. The woman spoke slow enough that Eala could gather some information - though words, as always, slipped through the cracks. When she stopped talking, the little woad's nose scrunched up. She looked over at the younger healer and down at Neeria. She moved a hand to Neeria's face, stroking her cheek with the tips of her fingers, up and down before looking back at the older woman. Slowly, slowly, Eala sat up. She hunched her shoulders, narrowing her black eyes to the healer as she slid to the ground on the other side of the bed, behind Neeria. "Shaaa!" Eala shouted, gesturing with a flick of her hand towards the younger woman, indicating for her to stay back. Furious, cautious eyes turned back to the older woman and Eala nodded her head stiffly. She wasn't sure about this, but she intended to watch, carefully, the whole time to ensure that this old hag did nothing to hurt Neeria. Eala shifted up to lay her chin on Neeria's shoulder, watching the nun intently, almost without blinking, her hand on Neeria's arm. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 18 2010, 02:31 AM Post #7 |
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Author: golden_trillium Date: Thu May 01, 2008 3:49 pm Tristan Well, that seemed to surprise- or disappoint, or whatever- the Woad girl into silence. She made no further attempt to speak to him, and let him go his way down the stairs from the ramparts unhindered. A quick glance behind him when he was near the bottom showed that she was descending, too, but she stayed a good way behind him, and did not try to attract his attention again. Someone else did, though. As Tristan reached the bottom of the stairs, Captain Barbattus, whom he had noticed earlier walking towards the base of the wall, veered towards him with a purposeful expression on his face, obviously desiring to speak with him. Tristan adjusted his path to meet the officer, as out of the corner of his eye, he saw Fiona cross silently behind him and continue off in the approximate direction of the tavern. “Captain?” he acknowledged the other man with a perfunctory salute when he came close to him, stopping before Barbattus, waiting to see what he wanted. It was news from Arthur, he hoped- news on what they were to do next, or news of the Commander’s condition, or even what to do with the damned prisoner. But he also knew that it was very likely not to be any of those things, but rather to be some aspect of duties that was much less interesting. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 18 2010, 10:28 PM Post #8 |
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Author: Elessars Girl Date: Thu May 01, 2008 3:50 pm Derfel
Derfel silently nodded his understanding as Drake answered about escorting Linnette to their Commander. Although it seemed a bit odd considering the man was carrying saddlebags….what did that have to do with taking Linnette to Arthur? Deciding to not concern himself with it, Derfel began to walk alongside the older man as Drake indicated. Linnesse had taken her sister into her room presumably for a clean dry wrap or something, thus the two men took up a very slow pace to give the women time.
Derfel made a small sound of disappointment in not hearing any news on Arthur’s condition. The Commander was probably fine though…and as long as he doesn’t send for me…. He reached up and scrubbed a hand over his stubbled face and thought seriously on taking the time to shave…since they’d successfully located Linnette and she seemed well enough in hand for the present time being.
Now that was a difficult question to answer. Derfel coughed into his hand and attempted to hide his discomfort on the subject of the ‘mission’. He then offered a cordial smile over at Drake. “Successful…few losses…” Derfel’s voice trailed off before releasing a sorrowful sigh. He dropped his gaze to his feet and stuck both hands in his overcoat for warmth. “If you did not know….Linnette’s husband fell in the battle….he….he….” Derfel was sparred further explanation by the return of the two sisters. He bit at the insides of his mouth and prayed to Bel that Linnette did not overhear. Derfel’s gaze went to Linnesse as he noted how exhausted his lover appeared. He should get her back to their room and back into bed.
Linnette’s saddened expression nearly broke Derfel’s heart. Did she truly believe he’d refuse anything she’d ask of him? Instinctively, he raised a hand to touch Linnette’s forearm in comfort….but halfway there thought better of it and let his arm drop back down to his side.
“Yes…yes, of course,” Derfel answered with the warmest smile he could muster. “I had it in me mind to pay a visit to the chapel on his behalf today already, luv,” He added with a slight bow of respect to Linnette. Derfel then glanced back to Drake as if to reassure himself that the man would still see to it that Linnette made it safely to Arthur’s office. He did not catch Linnette’s gaze also turning to Drake. “Linnesse, luv, I will not be too long…you want to go with your sister? I’ll catch up,” Derfel spoke to Linnesse as he reached for her hand. He did not truly wish to be parted from his obviously frail lover….but he’d do this for Linnette, and for Gedeon. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 18 2010, 10:29 PM Post #9 |
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Author: linnet Date: Thu May 01, 2008 9:19 pm Mother Lavinia Lavinia waited on her aching old knees, doing her best to look benign. Very slowly and cautiously, the Woad child moved off of Neeria and positioned herself to watch every move the nun would make. Lavinia was starting to feel like a mouse in the unblinking sight of a coiled snake. Still the fact that she had been able to communicate to some degree with the girl was encouraging, and imperative for the sake of Neeria. The healer slowly rose and went to work on the woman’s ghastly wound. She tried to avoid sudden or rough movements, as she drained the infection, cleaned the area, applied medication, and covered and bandaged the injury. She made sure that the girl could see exactly what she was doing, and what supplies she was using, in hopes that the child would have seen healers at work among her own people. When the immediate danger from the infection was under control for the time-being, Lavinia set about removing the scant shreds of clothing the Neeria still wore. Then she used the water in the basin, along with some soothing powders to carefully wash away the grime and blood and dreadful filth that covered Neeria’s body. All the while, the nun moved slowly and as gently as she could under the suspicious glare of the little girl. Lavinia was hopeful that the Woad would regain consciousness, as a sign that the infection had not spread too far. Thankfully the woman’s breathing was regular enough to give some optimism. Finally Lavinia picked up the simple clean white tunic that her assistant had brought. She held it for the girl to see and then by carefully lifting and maneuvering managed to get it on Neeria. The other healer had moved to help, but Lavinia shook her off, since the small Woad wanted to have only one threat to monitor. She hardly needed the help anyway, because Neeria was so thin, and light as a feather. That taken care of, Lavinia stepped back away from Neeria. With the girl still intent on not missing anything, the nun gestured her open palm just a bit toward the silent watcher. Then she brought the hand back and patted the bed beside Neeria, before touching her own shoulder and her lip. She knew the child was bright enough to understand that the healer wanted to help her now. But she seriously doubted that she’d be trusted to do so. Gawain Gawain sat staring into his mug of tea, trying to avoid eye contact with anyone who knew him. His head still hurt, more than it should have from just being hung-over. He was worried about his arm. If it didn’t heal right, he’d be of such diminished value that his days as a knight would be numbered. And what did he know how to do other than this? Nothing. It had to heal right, which meant he had to give it time, he told himself.
He looked up so quickly, the change of light hurt his eyes. For a moment he’d thought it was Brianna, and his heart had raced. But it wasn’t Bri, and the little spark of hope in his blue eyes faded. He glanced around to see if the woman had been speaking to someone else. No, she was looking at him, with demure sweetness and seductive intent. He didn’t know her name, but he knew who she was. He’d never had her. After he and Brianna had gotten very serious, he’d behaved and bedded no other women. But that hadn’t kept him from noticing the blond who floated around the tavern most nights like a vision of everything a man could only dream of having. He looked her over appreciatively, but more like he was admiring an especially fine new weapon, than a woman. He breathed out a short laugh. “The way I feel, I don’t even know if I’m lonely or not, pretty lady,” he said. “You want some bread and tea?” He smiled an enigmatic little-boy smile at her and looked from the food in front of him to the empty chair at the table. He realized that he probably was very lonely if he was inviting this beautiful creature to only sit and keep him company for a while. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 18 2010, 10:31 PM Post #10 |
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Author: LadyCastus Date: Thu May 01, 2008 9:23 pm Neeria The medicinal smells of the room hit her senses first, even before she opened her eyes. Immediately, the woad felt the difference of her being from before she passed out. Her side, which had been a gaping wound before she passed out, was now clean and tightly bandaged. She no long felt the sickening bleeding, oozing down her side. Neeria felt the softness of fabric on her tired, weary body and she didn’t feel sticky and dirty anymore. The tunic covered her completely and smelled fresh and clean. Slowly, Neeria opened her eyes, squinting from the gray light filtering through the small window. Her throat was sore and she coughed, which caused discomfort in her side. She cringed from the pressure the coughing put on her ribcage and abdomen and she moved her skinny hand to hold her side. Still feeling groggy but trying gain her wits, Neeria turned her head and saw Eala staring at her with wide black eyes. The poor child looked as though she was holding her breath, making a whimpering sound, waiting for a sign from Neeria. Neeria raised her hand to Eala’s cheek and gave her a faint smile. With much effort, the older woad nodded her head, trying to indicate to the girl that Neeria was okay. Then Neeria looked to the old woman and tears filled her eyes. “Thank you,” was all she could say as her bottom lip quivered. Neeria looked back to Eala and slid her hand down the child’s shoulder and arm, grabbing the girl’s hand in her own. The older woad smiled again and lifted Eala’s hand, pulling slightly, as though trying to get the girl to go to the nun. Eala pulled back a little, still not trusting the Roman woman. Neeria released the girl’s arm and touched her own side again, nodding her head, then pointing to healer once again. Eala’s eyes softened as she seemed to understand that it was okay to let the woman treat her. Neeria grabbed the child’s hand again and squeezed it, then gently tugged again. “It’s okay,” Neeria mouthed slowly to the child. Neeria touched Eala’s shoulder gently and scrunched her nose and stuck out her tongue again. She hoped the child understood and would let the nun help her. Malcus Barbattus Malcus closed the distance between Tristan and himself and held out his hand to greet the stoic scout.
“Fucked up morning, isn’t it?” Barbattus grumbled. Malcus held out his arm to indicate that they should walk and talk. “I need to know what happened out there on that road. I lost eight men god-dammit and nobody can tell me why. What of this god-forsaken peace treaty of Merlin’s? What the fuck happened?” Malcus’ bad mood was rising to the surface again and he was brooding. Maybe he should eat breakfast, he considered, not out loud. Maybe that would stop the dull throbbing in his head and squelch the desire he had to punch someone in the face and spit on them. “Then of all things," Barbattus raged on, "Arthur brings along that woad bitch as a way to get to Merlin! She’s been nothing but trouble since she got here! I beat the guard at her cell door within an inch of his miserable life because if Quintus hadn't showed up, that miserable piece of goat dung would have gotten away with it! He tried to take her, force her, right there in the cell, the bastard! The healer never came last night so now she and the rabid woad child have been taken to the infirmary under guard. What a pain in my arse.” He glanced sideways at Tristan. “Arthur did not receive visitors last night which is not like him at all. Nor have I seen Lancelot. I suspect the commander must have been injured more than I previously thought. I will go call on him after I get something to eat. Perhaps putting something in my stomach and fondling the firm breasts of a wench will lighten my mood. Care to join me, old man?” the captain asked with his best effort at a smile. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 18 2010, 10:32 PM Post #11 |
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Author: sabor ice Date: Thu May 01, 2008 9:43 pm Cassidy & Fleur Fleur had her back to the infirmary bed, her little stick legs in the air, swinging them from the knees down. Both hands were above her, suspending her doll in mid-air. She was singing some made-up tune, plugging 'lalala' in where words should've been. Cassidy was disgruntled, sitting at the foot of the bed with her arms crossed over her chest. She was edgy as well, but she couldn't quite pin-point the reason, although Fleur's racket surely wasn't helping the situation any. "Sissy?" Fleur cooed, while making her doll dance above her. "Who was that little girl? Why did they take her away?" "I don't know," Cassidy answered dully, flatly. A few moments passed. "Sissy?" Fleur innocently inquired again. "Do you think that other girl's gonna come back? The one who knows stories?" "I don't know," the twelve year old replied, a little more curtly this time. "Sissy?" Fleur piped up a third time, now holding her doll to her little chest. "When's Drake comin' back?" Cassidy froze, and this time she did not answer, making Fleur curious. The little blonde flopped over onto her stomach and placed her face in her hands, eying up her older sister's back. Cassidy didn't know what to think or what to say, so she quietly uttered the only thing that came to mind: "I don't know." Fleur sighed exasperatedly, tendrils of feathery blonde hair blowing from her line of sight. "Well, what DO you know?" the seven year old huffed out impatiently. The older blonde inclined her chin toward her shoulder, half-lidded eyes sliding shut momentarily, and she shook her head. What did she know? Nothing. Nothing. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 18 2010, 10:52 PM Post #12 |
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Author: Eledhwen Date: Fri May 02, 2008 3:07 am Bors Bors concentrated completely on his food as only Bors could, and when he had finished every scrap and licked the plate clean he stood, almost knocking his stool over as he did so. He considered telling Vanora goodbye, but decided against it, not because he was feeling a sudden attack of sensitivity, but because he didn't want to get accused of interupting some girly thing she had going on with the other bird. Sniffing loudly, he wiped the back of his hand across his nose and strode out of the tavern in search of something to do. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 18 2010, 10:53 PM Post #13 |
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Author: lady ione Date: Fri May 02, 2008 8:48 am Vanora Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Mirtha, the stable master enter and walk up to the counter waiting for his order to be taken. She looked at the man, then back at Bors and Tatiana. Adian had just left distraught over the news that he had lost Thorn, and now Tatiana was upset. Blessed glorious day! The red head really had wanted Bors to stay, but then she knew how he was around situations like this. He was not really use to showing how he felt in situations of this nature. The knight was almost done with his food and had all but licked the plate clean when Vanora heard the copperhaired woman call after Adian...
There was confusion in the young lady's voice, and Vanora knew she was going to have to double her duties: wait on Mirtha and talk to Tatiana at the same time. Her eyes met those of she and Bors though Bors seemed to be more interested in the food. There was something else about Tatiana...the look in her eyes. Was she in love? Vanora had seen so many girls with the same looks of first love. It made Vanora recall the day when she had met Bors. Her dark brown eyes watched Bors get up from where he sat having all but eaten the plate, and gave her a glance which she met before leaving the tavern. It was now just she, Mirtha, and the distressed young lady. Her eyes watched Bors backside as he left the tavern, then turned her attention back to the two. As she walked over to Mirtha, she addressed Tati's questions, "Sometimes it takes a very long time for pain of that sort to heal. I could not imagine my life without Bors, or any of my children..." She paused in thought before continuing. "When someone looses someone they have loved dearly, there is like a huge gap that is left in your life. Adain feels betrayed no doubt as he was not here when she died and probably feels that he is the one responsible as he was not here to protect her...." She reached the counter and nodded at Mirtha, before finishing. "Grief is sometimes such that one does not feel that they have the will to live any longer....and some feel that their departed would have wanted them to continue and find the happiness they had lost....some find strength in just knowing that their departed's spirit is always with them. Adian needs time to be by himself, and whatever he said should not be taken personally. He is more angry at himself..." Vanora turned, then to Mirtha and said, "What can I get you this morning, Mirtha?" Looking up at Tati, Vanora turned to the Stable master and said, "All we have right now is eggs, meat and some fresh bread..." |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 18 2010, 10:54 PM Post #14 |
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Author: Starbelle Date: Fri May 02, 2008 2:15 pm Tatiana
After listening to Vanora answer her questions and digesting the information, Tatiana filed it all away to think about later. "Thanks Vanora. That helps..At least now I know why Adian left here like that." She said nodding and letting out a little sigh. "I thought that if he had told me a little bit about Thorn, it would've helped him to begin healing at least a little bit, but I guess it was too early or too soon to do that just yet." Tati commented sadly to the proprietess kneeling on the floor from picking up the spilled food. Then her thoughts took a different turn to automatically drift to a soldier with dark sandy-brown hair and dark blue eyes with a cold named Brendyn and their very first meeting here in the tavern and oh, the butterflies that awoke as their eyes met and made contact for the first time. She, of course, had seen plenty of boys back in her home village, but none of them had made her feel anything or stop to do a double-take until that night and everything happily changed for her. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 18 2010, 10:57 PM Post #15 |
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Author: Pinkie Date: Fri May 02, 2008 4:28 pm Drake Drake knew something had happened on the mission that Derfel didn't speak about. It was no sixth sense, not really in any case. It was just a warrior's instinct perhaps? His green eyes peered up at Derfel, narrowing marginally as the man coughed into his hand. A sign of discomfort because it was the very first cough the man had been prey to in all this time. The Spaniard kept his lips sealed however, nodding his head as he was informed there were few losses. He felt the blood drain from his face when the Saxon then attempted to tell him about Linnette's husband. Why did he feel guilty about that? Why did it feel like he should have stopped it from happening? Maybe because it would be better if he were dead and Gedeon still lived...? He was nodding his head a little stiffly as Derfel told him of Gedeon, holding his breath, his forehead ridged heavily with a frown. The uncomfortable recognition of such a disastrous death was not needed- as the two women returned. Drake took a breath. A deep breath, looking over Linnette quickly, trying to be discreet. He watched her eyes, attempting to see if she had been crying again. Whilst he looked over Linnette, Derfel was doing the same thing with his lover. Drake realised this and gave an uncomfortable cough into his hand - catching himself at the last minute, his eyes diverting to Derfel. Was he obvious in his intense observations of Linnette? Was that guilty cough into his hand, so similar to Derfel's only a moment ago, truly obvious? Would the Saxon make some link, attach some emotional baggage to it? The Spaniard took a step back - feeling a little out of place. He wasn't family, afterall. He watched and listened though, remaining very still as Linnette spoke. He had to drop his eyes, looking down at his dirty boots as her voice broke. His fists balled up, flexing inwards and outwards with ominous creaks at the joints. The urge to grab Linnette and turn her away from speaking the words that were causing her so much pain was almost unbearable. Drake wanted her to just not feel the pain though he knew she would be feeling it now and for a long, long time to come. There was nothing he could do about it. It would hit her now or it would fester and she wuold become a different woman, a bitter woman, a bitter, lonely woman. A bitter lonely mother... his conscience reminded him. He almost groaned... Derfel looked at him. Drake looked back levelly. He understood the look and lowered his head a fraction, indicating that he would ensure the two were seen to safety. When the fair-haired male spoke to his lover, Drake sidled up to Linnette's side, looking down at her hands, not into her sad eyes. It pained him to see such anguish in her hazel eyes... "You sure you're ready?" he spoke, defiance ringing in his tone. He would defy Arthur to ensure she had enough time to prepare for this. He would not force her in front of the Commander unless she was ready, both inside and out, to face him. He would not subject her to that - and let the wrath of Castus fall upon him for he would not let it touch Linnette. Catherine He really did look miserable. Not for the first time it went through Catherine's mind how satisfying it would be to take this man to the baths and just ... scrub. It wasn't that he omitted an offensive odour! On the contrary- he smelled male, like every other male at Badon Hill, but there was something about the way he kept his chin lowered, his shoulders hunched defensively, that made him look... shadowed. Bleak. He would feel better if he treated himself better. Catherine was convinced of it. THough she was convinced of the same thing with most men at Badon Hill. Especially the Knights. Some people said it was the uncouth nature of Sarmatians - Catherine was of the opinion that it was their servitude to Rome that had them feeling like slaves and so they started to look like slaves. When this one looked up at her, his lips parting in the faintest, weakest of laughter, Catherine couldn't help but smile back, tilting her head to the side so that her cheek touched her shoulder. She looked a lovely creature then - meek and pleasant. Docile.
"Ah..." Catherine began, her smile becoming more broad and genuine as she looked at his plate of food. Bread and tea? Men didn't offer bread and tea! Red-blooded warriors did not offer a seat and a bite of breakfast when approached by a whore! Intrigued, pleasantly so, Catherine pursed her lips as if considering his proposal. "Hm..." she murmured, trailing her fingertips over the table top, looking at Gawain intently, trying to decipher him. Catherine was good with people. Business? Oh gods no - but people she was good with. "I'll take some bread if you discover that you are not lonely." she promised, gracefully sliding herself in opposite the Knight, her hands spread out on the table top. They looked... immaculate. There was not even a hint of dirt beneath her fingernails, which, were long and had a healthy lustre to them. The fingernails of a woman who had not worked a day in her life. "In the meantime I will take a sup of your tea..." Catherine said, stretching her hand across Gawain's arm, delibrately brushing the material of his tunic, as she took the cup from the enclosure of his arms. She brought the cup to her lips, tilted towards Gawain, winked - "Cheers..." and took a sip. The whore leaned back across hsi arm, placing the cup back down. Her lips curled in a rather bemused smile and she shook her head, giving a soft chuckle, defeated. Her shoulders fell and she leaned an elbow onto the table, her chin in her hand as she looked at Gawain - obviously amuesd, but also very confused. "Why am I sitting at a table with you sharing breakfast at all? It seems... it seems a little eccentric, though certainly not displeasing." Catherine assured him, her little finger falling down to her bottom lip, her fingernail gently tugging at the lip slowly. Eala Eala wasn't sure about this at all. Her lips were pressed into a severely displeased line as the old nun worked. When she started to strip Neeria, Eala's nose wrinkled, her eyes looking from the older woad's body to the nun, wondering if she should step in and stop this. But a tunic was presented which quelled Eala's suspicion. A little. Once Neeria was dressed, the ten-year old tapped her hand, attempting to wake her. Somehow it had unfolded in her mind that Neeria had been unconscious only while the nun worked - that that was how it was meant to be. Now that she was clean and fresh and tended to, Eala expected the older woman to be awake. When she did not wake immediately, Eala's lip pulled back from her teeth. She turned a hateful glare at the nun and started to shift on her feet again. The nun gestured towards her, then to her own shoulder, then to herself. Eala narrowed her black eyes, deciphering these things in her head and came up with the right conclusion. She scoffed initially, and shook her head. "... na! uhna..!" she declared, shaking her head and pointing towards the doors of the little romo they were in, indicating the great wide world. She was trying to say the name of the healer back at the woad camp, Juna, but only got a portion of the name right. As she was declaring these things, Neeria came to. Eala's suspicion was eradicated for the meantime, her childs mind easily distracted as the older woman came to. She gave a beaming smile which looked horrific with all the bruises, dirt and dried blood that was encrusted on her. Neeria turned to speak to the nun and then grabbed Eala's hand. Eala looked down at the grip and resisted it at first, shaking her head. "... na!!" she tried again, pointing with a sharp, dirty finger towards the door. She would get Juna to look at her wounds when they got back to camp, did Neeria not understand that? Did she doubt they would be back at camp at all? But she was insistent. Eala tried to resist, her youthful face so angry, so full of mistrust. Until Neeria appealed to the child. She scrunched her nose and stuck out her tongue. Eala's bottom lip pouted out, her cheeks puckering with the oncoming smile. Finally she shook away Neeria's hand and took a deep breath. She stuck out her tongue at Neeria a moment before she cme around the other side of the bed. She lifted her chin arrogantly and stomped her feet dramatically before coming to stand in front of the nun, defiance personified. Her blonde hair was spiking up at the most odd angles - of course it had been hacked short with her own little dagger which didn't help, but it was matted in places with dirt and dried blood. The blanket hung off her injured shoulder revealing the horrid swelling and bruise where the shoulder had popped most of the way back into place. There was still an odd bump where there shouldn't be a bump - this Eala ignored as if it were not there at all. Her black eyes dared the nun to hurt her. |
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