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| May 2008 | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Mar 18 2010, 02:23 AM (3,629 Views) | |
| golden_trillium | Mar 20 2010, 08:14 PM Post #181 |
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Author: LadyCastus Date: Thu May 15, 2008 1:26 pm Mona Mona stood, staring at Guinevere, with her sword gripped in her hand, waiting for the blood-spattered woman to speak.
Leave ME here? You ungrateful bitch! I was ready to fight for you, fool that I was! Mona narrowed her eyes and gritted her teeth. They were nowhere near the fortress yet, she thought. She was furious as she gripped the hilt of her sword, fighting for control. She wanted to slice Guinevere's head right off her shoulders then and there and shove it right down Connell's throat. She stared at Guinevere, locking eyes with her. Mona didn't care if her own anger betrayed her now. Guinevere was as good as dead. How dare she speak to Mona in that tone of voice and with such indignance when all Mona was trying to do was make sure the princess was safe. I will make you beg for mercy... Guinevere pulled out a dagger from her boot and Mona raised her arm, ready to strike, thinking Guinevere was about to attack her. Instead the spoiled woad threw the dagger into a dead tree log. Then Guinevere removed the blade and placed it back into her boot. Rolling her eyes, Mona slammed her sword back into its sheath. The next time I withdraw my blade, it will be to kill you...
Our return? HA! You won't be coming back this way! Mona glared at both of them, wishing them dead.
Mona gathered her things, including her bow and quiver. Mona hung behind the other two, watching the backs of their heads as they walked. How easy would it be to shoot them while their backs were turned? Mona smiled to herself as she followed. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 20 2010, 08:18 PM Post #182 |
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Author: Pinkie Date: Thu May 15, 2008 3:50 pm Amadeus It was formality only that made Amadeus ask what he should tell Merlin. He had his own ideas of what should transpire but he would entertain Arthur enough to make the Commander believe he would do his bidding to the letter. The Optio watched on in ignorance of Arthur's internal struggle with exhaustion and injury -
The grey-eyed male nodded his head at Arthur's instructions. He pursed his lips to keep back a biting response to this issue of making a new treaty for peace. There would be no treaty made. Merlin would submit or his people would be wiped out eventually by the formidable force that was the Roman Army. As for Arthur meeting Merlin tomorrow... ! HA! No - not a chance. Amadeus would ensure a private meeting was held, away from the ears of Barbattus and he would speak his terms. Oh he would entertain Arthur's orders of course, he would not wholly turn aside direct orders, he was not capable of such a thing. But he was already thinking of what he would say to Merlin, of the 'treaty' that he would offer the Woad Leader. "I will endeavour to do as you order, Commander. We will ride out as soon as everyone is ready. Perhaps I might have a word with you in private before we leave...?" the Optio queried smoothly, not letting his eyelids even flicker in the direction of Lancelot though the topic of his private meeting with the Commander would be all about the dark wretch. Catherine Catherine was hardly prepared, nor wanting, for the reaction from Fleur when she tried to hand her back to her sister.
Oh dear ... ! The blonde woman's eyes narrowed and she looked over at Cassidy, seeing the hurt that so blatantly crossed the child's face. She was trying to figure Cassidy out and so far was presuming that the girl was taking on too much, too young. She was trying not to be dependant on anyone because no one was going to stick around and take responsibility for two young children. Catherine was one of those people, but she wouldn't leave them wanting either. A gorgeous smile lifted her lips and she gave a soft laugh, looking over at Cassidy. She gave the girl a wink but directed her words to Fleur. "I'm not going away forever Fleur." she laughed, "I'm just going to work for a little while." Catherine smiled, hunkering down in front of Fleur and pursed her lips at her, hazy green eyes intense, willing the littler of the girls to be good about this. "And you don't really mean that about Cassidy do you? You are ever so lucky to have a sister, do you know that?" she said in a doting voice, her storytelling voice. Rising up again, Catherine looked over at Cassidy and smiled. Inside Catherine hoped that Cassidy learned a lesson by this, seeing her sister react so badly because of her hasty actions. Galahad
Galahad was looking at Gedeon's old horse as if the beast was going to answer the questions that they were bandying around for itself. His blue eyes narrowed at Tristan and the youngest knight sucked a breath in between his teeth, uncertain about how to answer this. He wondered if it were him that had died, would he want someone to tell Alina before taking his horse? No doubt Gawain would sort all that out though... The young Sarmatian looked up to Darya when she made a noise -
Unpleasant incidences? Nice gestures? Did Darya realise who she was talking to? Galahad looked over at Tristan with a puzzled look on his face. The scout looked a bit uncertain for a moment.
Sighing, the curly haired youth shrugged his shoulder, grimacing as he looked at the horse again. "All the same Tristan... at least tell Dag. We don't need him falling off his own horse when he sees his dead son's horse riding out next to him." Galahad said with a roll of his blue eyes, stroking a hand against his unshaven jaw idly. "And if he did you'd have to explain to Saoirse..." Galahad hissed a breath in between his teeth, shaking his head with raised eyebrows, sympathisising with any man that had to reason with that wild red-head. "Maybe Derfel could tell Linnette... she might not mind. I mean, it's better to be using the horse than letting it go lame stuck in the stables. She'll understand." Galahad said with a nod of his head, though his tone was not as sure as his words implied. He then glanced up at Darya expectantly. Eala
Eala's wide black eyes narrowed and her fingers clutched at the ground, as if anchoring herself there. She shook her head at him, pouting her lips and skooching back a little away from him. When he stood up she looked over to the window, hoping to see Ash there, but as soon as her head twisted the feet moved and she darted an alarmed look back at the soldier. This time he made a gesture with his arm, indicating for her to go to him. Eala's nose wrinkled and she made a grunting noise, indicating a negative response to his demand. He went away and Eala looked over at the window again. This time she was looking up as the sheet on the bed was whipped away. She was about to back out from under the bed completely when her ankles were grabbed and she was hauled out into the middle of the floor. Eala cried out, a horrible, disjointed, guttural noise as her body wriggled, flipping over as she tried to hold onto the ground to keep herself under the bed. Titrus hauled her to her feet and grabbed her arm. Eala bucked away from him, her knees not locked in place so her limp body wilted away from him.
Eala shot the man a look of such fierce betrayal that he should have felt his ears burn. She looked at his lips just as he uttered the word please and gave another token buck against his grip. She did follow him though, a short distance, before crying out and turning around. Her good arm reached out behind her and she yanked her arm free long enough to fall forward, hand clutched onto the dead baby thing that he had given to her. The blonde grit her teeth, holding the doll by the shoulder awkwardly again, down by her side. She went back to Titrus' side and gave him a furious glare before walking on ahead of him. Every movement of her lithe body looked dangerous. Every footstep looked like the one that was going to send her running. The doll hanging from her hand looked ridiculous! But Eala kept her chin up, her bruised face stern and proud. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 20 2010, 08:19 PM Post #183 |
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Author: Starbelle Date: Thu May 15, 2008 5:01 pm Tatiana Hearing the fast echoing footsteps of someone coming down the same corridor that she was in, the stablegirl looked up to see a servant heading in her direction. Once he saw his intended target, he slowed slightly than came to a stop. "In the infirmary, there are two Roman soldiers. One's injured." "Thanks very much." Tatiana replied with a nod after handing him a coin in payment for telling her the message. Bren, I hope that one of those soldiers is you, beloved. She thought to herself. Heading over to the infirmary and entering it, she saw Bren laying on his stomach on a cot, his eyes closed. Glancing around and seeing that the nurse was still there, she nodded to her then finding an empty bench very close to his cot and sitting down in it, reached over and placing one of her tiny hands into his much bigger one intertwining her fingers with his. With her other hand, she softly moved his bangs away from his forehead. Hoping that her hazel eyes had cleared up and there weren't any dried tear tracks, or redness and puffiness that her crying spell had caused her earlier in the day, Tatiana entertained the thought about giving him a soft kiss to awaken him like he did her that first morning in his quarters, but decided not to and allowed him to awaken on his own. She did, however, squeeze his hand briefly with hers in lieu of the kiss that she wanted so badly to give him. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 22 2010, 01:55 AM Post #184 |
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Author: lady ione Date: Thu May 15, 2008 5:23 pm Ione She had been totally lost in her thoughts, and was becoming drenched in the process. She stopped and looked up at the gray winter sky as if thinking that perhaps she'd see some slight sign that Spring was around the corner...A time for new beginnings. It saddened her in a way to think that the one man who had treated her so well and accepted her for who she was was never coming back for whatever reason....leaving her with the fact that she might be pregnant. No man would have her now, except for Mirtha who was drunk at the time. Her long slender fingers ran over a frond from a nearby berry bush, then plucked a leaf. Her eyebrow raised as she studied the leaf. Ione began to recall a story of the Christian God's crucifixion, and the sour wine they had offered him before he died...a mixture of hyssop and bitter herbs. Well, Mirtha was not dying, but the bitter herb in his wine could make him lose his taste for the beverage. The young weaver felt like people were looking at her...
...Ione stopped in her tracks, dropped the leaf and turned toward Mirtha as people continued to look at them both. As the stablemaster stopped next to her, she said softly, "Mirtha, you startled me." She brought her hand up as if to slow her heart that was beating fast from the scare. She had not expected to see him again. It had been nice to walk alone, but it was better with company, though she really had to wonder why he had sought her out... |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 22 2010, 01:56 AM Post #185 |
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Author: Lancelot Daet: Thu May 15, 2008 6:36 pm Lancelot Lancelot was fast becoming annoyed and tense again; he could not maintain his air of nonchalance around Arthur and Scipio for too long. The Optio made him nervous - and it showed, as much as the first knight would like it not to.
That got Lancelot's attention. He levered himself gracefully out of the chair and rested his hands on his leather clad hips. His trousers slid dangerously low on his narrow body; Lancelot angrily made a mental note he'd have to spend what little of the salary Rome paid him to order new riding supplies soon - every time they returned from a campaign his clothing ended up ruined. Hooking his fingers through the loops on the pants, he pursed his chapped lips and eyed first Arthur, and then the Optio, who was looking wide eyed and innocent. Lancelot thought he seemed a tad too fresh for one that had supposedly just killed "every woad" he had encountered. "A new treaty? Commander, if the Magician didn't like this one, what makes you think golden tongue here can broker another one? Or do you think your diplomatic skills so poor?" He scrubbed his hand over his face and hair and sighed harshly. "Optio," he turned to Scipio at last. "You seem to have the experience. But I warn you - this man is not to be trusted. He is a devil and a trickster and a liar who will take any man and use him for his own ends." Lancelot's eyes canted quickly to Arthur, and then back to Amadeus. Not that he wished to give the other man advice - he'd actually prefer it if the Optio did not come back - but...gods damn it. Lancelot was Arthur's second for a reason. Maybe not the fucking 'official' second, but he was the Roman's first knight and he damn well had logged the time at Arthur's side. He had fought the demon woad leader for years and he knew Merlin - unfortunately almost as well as Merlin knew him. He looked directly at Arthur, and stood to as best attention as he could, given his exhaustion and residual anger. "What do you wish of me, Arthur?" Lancelot was not in the mood to create havoc and start yet another 'discussion' with his friend. He wanted Arthur to rest and he wanted himself to get cleaned up and some food into his growling belly. As to Scipio - Lancelot would see the Optio later. You and I are not finished, Roman. I will not forget. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 22 2010, 01:57 AM Post #186 |
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Author: golden_trillium Date: Thu May 15, 2008 7:34 pm Linnette
“I…” Linnette’s voiced was a whisper as she sat there on the prickly straw mattress, looking at him, and unexpectedly, but with a certain inevitability about it nonetheless, her eyes started once again to fill with tears, a lump to once more grow in her throat. It had been a stupid, stupid, thing to do. Stupid didn’t even begin to cover it. She had problems enough already, more problems than she cared to count, and she had only added to them by nearly breaking her hand. The physical pain had seemed like a useful distraction only moments ago, but now it only added to the misery of the rest of it. And it seemed greater, too, somehow- like it was really sinking in. Her palms both felt as if they had been skinned with a knife, and the left hand ached whenever she moved it, bandage notwithstanding. She blinked furiously a couple of times, but tears began to roll down her cheeks anyway- there was no way to stop them. The rebuke in Drake’s voice, mild though it was, was the last straw. She didn’t want to be disapproved of, too, on top of everything else. “No…no, I won’t,” she choked out, feeling like a child that had been scolded, and very rightly so. Stupid…utterly stupid. Now she had to keep the accounts with her hands like this- and neglecting the accounts, or, God forbid, leaving them for Arthur, was just as much not an option as it had been before. She had to do it, and she just didn’t see how it was all going to happen. Sliding her gaze guiltily away from Drake’s- she couldn’t look at him any more- she slumped her shoulders further and hid her face in her right hand, the better one, while her left arm crept protectively over her stomach again, almost wrapping around her waist. Not hard, though- she was favoring the left hand, setting it very carefully and lightly, so as not to jar or hurt it further. She had to care for it- care for it so that she could be whole and useful again as soon as could be. Her eyes, tearful though the screen of her slightly separated fingers, fell on Drake’s hand, resting on his knee, and the bandage there, almost matching her own. The bandage that she had put there herself, though she was no healer either. The strange parallelism of their experiences of the past few days suddenly struck her as funny, and she laughed softly, a sad laugh through the tears. “We make a fine pair,” she commented ruefully, lifting her right hand away from her face and gesturing towards Drake’s bandage in illustration of what she meant. Her face fell again as she said it, though- it wasn't the same, though. Drake's injury had been honorably taken in a battle, whereas she...well, hers was her own damn fault, and no excuses for it at all. Just stupidity. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 22 2010, 01:58 AM Post #187 |
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Author: linnet Date: Thu May 15, 2008 8:19 pm Gawain Gawain wasn’t anxious to leave the armory. Coming here had been a good idea. It had not only given him work to do that seemed worthwhile, and occupied his attention; it had also isolated him from the people who would want to know where Brianna was. But by now he’d cleaned all of his and Galahad’s weapons and armor. He’d also poked around, just out of curiosity, in the stored supplies, most of which were for the Roman soldiers, There was nothing new that he hadn’t seen before among the shields and helmets, swords, lances, bows and arrows Being surrounded by stockpiles of tools for battle was somehow almost comforting to the knight. It was akin to the feeling a cook would have when standing amidst a pantry whose shelves were packed full of foodstuffs of every kind. So, having nothing more to do in the weapons warehouse, Gawain took his one surviving metal arm band, and went back outside. His hair and clothing hadn’t dried out totally from before, and now the rain soaked in again. When he got to the metal smith’s shop, he shook off some of the water before stepping across the door’s threshold. The smith looked up from his workbench and welcomed the knight with a cordial smile of recognition. “Gawain,” he said. “What can I do for you?” The two men had known each other for years but had always dealt strictly on business terms. There was mutual respect for the skills and talents that each possessed. There was no small talk about the weather, or even talk about the Segedenum and Woad battles. “I need a new mate for this,” Gawain approached the smith and handed him the arm band. The smith gave a quick look at the metal piece he had crafted especially for the blond knight. He nodded, and said, “It will be ready before your arm is,” to which Gawain replied with a huff of resignation. “I’ve been thinking about a sword that I could use,” Gawain stated, a little tentatively, not knowing if the smith would agree with his ideas about the sword. But the craftsman jumped at the challenge of designing a custom weapon. He listened to the knight’s thoughts, and added his own. They talked eagerly, and were soon sketching out designs, modifying and filling in details. The smith measured Gawain’s hand against his, and gave him weapons of various sizes and weights to wield. After a time they had designed a formidable looking sword, unique in its shorter blade length, longer hilt that could be held in one or both hands, and tapered shape – a deadly point for stabbing, thicker edges for hacking. Gawain asked what this weapon would cost. It would be expensive, which didn’t surprise him. He’d need to get busy gambling in order to win away enough of what Rome paid its soldiers, since the Empire wouldn’t shell out directly for a custom weapon. He told the smith to go ahead and forge the sword. “What do you want as decoration?” the metal worker asked. Gawain looked at him a bit blankly. “Symbols, animals, mythic creatures, that sort of thing to be depicted on the hilt, you know. Something you identify with, maybe,” the man explained. Gawain pondered a minute, but nothing sprang to mind. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “Let me think about it a day or two.” He left the shop, feeling some excitement over the prospect of his new toy, but it was mixed with anxiety over the wisdom of spending money he didn’t currently have. Where to go now? It was way too early to begin his quest for coins in the tavern. He still didn’t want to go back to his room. He decided to try the infirmary. He could at least ask someone how Dag was doing, even if it was still too soon to visit him. He went through the muddy streets, again getting wet, to the place he’d once heard someone refer to as the pest-house. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 22 2010, 02:00 AM Post #188 |
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Author: Unicorn Date: Fri May 16, 2008 10:07 am Mirtha Mirtha went to her glaring at the people around to find their own buisness. As he reached he was not smiling, but looked at her closely searching for anything that would indicate that he had done something wrong yesterday. Bruises... marks... anything.... wounds maybe. He had been rough with women before and he hoped that it was not in Ione's case.
He cleared his throat and scratched his chin. "I am sorry..." he said and cleared his throat again, feeling somehow awkward now as people around was watching them for a few more seconds and that he really did not know what to say to her. "I wanted... Could we talk somewhere else? Alone?" he asked frowning a little. This matter was between them... not the whole place. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 22 2010, 02:17 AM Post #189 |
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Author: Pinkie Date: Fri May 16, 2008 10:21 am Drake Wrong thing to say... After all the careful, considerate, hesitant moments leading up to now, this was the one that Drake thought least likely to make her cry. But as he sat there looking at her face he saw the hazel color of her eyes alter, tears lining up on her eyelids waiting to fall. He almost groaned but thoguht better of it - thinking Linnette might think it was exasperation with her crying when in fact he was annoyed with himself for speaking. For making her cry.
The Spaniard nodded his head, looking at the few tears that trickled down her pale cheeks. His eye twitched and his fingers curled into his palm. He wanted to brush away the tears again but it was even worse in here because she was sitting on his bed, in the bedroom alone. He couldn't go in for this flippant touching in such circumstances. Whatever about his reputation, he did not want to harm Linnette's. And not when things were so confused for her already. So Drake remained there, watching Linnette lift a hand to her face, curling her other arm about her stomach. Drake sighed quietly. His own shoulders sagged too. He kept forgetting about the baby... Drake remained there silent for a long time until Linnette broke the silence with a murmur of laughter. Surprised, the Spaniard looked up at her face, cocking his head to the side quizzical at what she found so amusing.
He looked down at his hand sharply when she indicated, wriggling his fingers a moment before allowing a wry smile to curl his lips. It softened the appearance of him altogether as he looked back up at Linnette. The humour seemed to have fled her though. Drake was not willing to let it go that easily. "We'll get by - we've a complete set between us.." he gestured to Linnette's less-injured hand and smiled. Rising from the ground, Drake took the bowl and emptied the contents of that out the window too, grimacing as a gust of wind blew in just before he shut it. Turning to Linnette, Drake was trailing the remainders of the damp cloth through his fingers and pursed his lips. The silence stretched, Drake started to feel a bit awkward and he grimaced, swallowing hard as he looked down at the cloth between his fingers. The habitual frown was back in situ -- "I'm not .. I'm not very good with words but I .. want you to know that I hurt for the pain that this loss has caused you." even to his own ears that sounded wooden, practiced. Awkward. Drake made a point of clearing his throat again, pushing away from the window sill, and turning to put the cloth out on it to dry. He scratched the back of his neck, his back to Linnette and cleared his throat again. No, he wasn't very good with words. At least that had been bare, honest, painful truth. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 22 2010, 02:19 AM Post #190 |
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Author: LadyCastus Date: Fri May 16, 2008 12:51 pm Malcus Barbattus and Neeria Malcus escorted Neeria through the crowded infirmary and out the front doors. Then he led her back down the roadway which led to the barracks. Neeria pulled the heavy cloak around her tighter and shivered against the chilling drizzle that fell at Badon. She was barefoot, having left her one boot behind in the small room. Her thoughts went back to Eala and Neeria hoped the girl was okay. And what of Ash? She couldn’t believe Ash was actually behind the wall! So Merlin really had sent a rescue! Was Ash alone? How would they manage to pull it of? Neeria wished she’d been able to communicate with him but the gods hadn’t been favorable. At least she hadn’t been caught with the blade, that would have been disastrous. The Roman man in the room didn’t appear willing to hurt her but Neeria didn’t trust Romans. Any Roman - and here she was on her way back to be face to face with Arthur Castus again. What would she tell him? There was no way she would betray Merlin, even if it meant her life. What would Arthur do with her when she led him out to the woods and she told him she wouldn’t do it? She thought of the dark knight – he’d wanted to kill her then and there. Neeria didn’t like him. As though reading her thoughts, Malcus said to her, “We’ll be leaving this afternoon to find your leader, Merlin. You’d better not fuck around with us, as I have been ordered to ride with you. I will not tolerate much from you. Are you ready to ride?” Neeria didn’t respond. She only glared at Barbattus as he led her. For a fleeting moment, Neeria considered running but she dismissed the idea quickly. There was no way she could outrun this man in her condition. “That’s alright, you don’t have to answer,” Malcus said casually. “You’re dead either way. I wouldn’t answer either.” They reached the barracks’ entrance and Malcus held the gate open for her. “Ladies first,” he said sarcastically. Neeria rolled her eyes at him but still did not speak. They entered the passageway and walked down the long hallway. Neeria’s heart began to flutter. She had no desire to see Arthur Castus again. She wasn’t afraid of him, she just didn’t want to be in his presence or the presence of any other Romans. Malcus and Neeria stopped in front of a massive door. “Here we are milady,” he snickered and knocked loudly. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 22 2010, 02:20 AM Post #191 |
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Author: lady ione Date: Fri May 16, 2008 2:08 pm Ione Mirtha seemed intent on something, and as he looked her over as if searching for something, Ione moved her head where his did as if trying to pin point what that would be. Well, neither of them were far from the Weaver's shop, and it was the perfect place to talk as she would not open the shop until all of the damaged items were fit to sell again. Dark chocolate eyes watched the man in front of her as he scratched his chin as if not sure what to say or do...
Ione raised an eyebrow as he spoke. The eyes of everyone around them seemed to be on them, and someplace private would be definitly needed. She shivered a bit from the rain, and said softly, "Sure, we can go back to the shop. I will not be opening it yet until all of my damaged goods are ready to sell again....so we can go there it you like." Mirtha nodded in agreement, and so Ione and he walked back to the shop not far from where they were. Reaching the door of the shop, Ione unlocked and opened it, then allowed Mirth to step inside. She followed, then closed and locked the door behind her. Taking off her soaked cloak, Ione hung it on the peg by the door and turned to looked at Mirtha, "What was it that you wanted to talk to me about?" |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 22 2010, 02:21 AM Post #192 |
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Author: Unicorn Date: Fri May 16, 2008 2:51 pm Mirtha Mirtha was searching for any sign of his bad temper while he drunk... bad temper while he was beyond control. He hope he had done nothing wrong. He did not see anything on her body... and she looked into his eyes. And once more he felt very awkward. What the hell was he doing??
He only nodded... And his mind raced itself with questions and doubts. If he had indeed done something she wouldn't be so nice to him right? He was not sure about what to do right now. Maybe it was a mistake to come to her also... Mybe he should leave...? They reached the doors and Mirtha was allowed to enter the room first, he turned and watched Ione taking off her wet cloak.
Better to be straightforward... Right? "Er... I wanted to know...." No... It was not the best choice to ask her straightforward, if he raped her or harmed her in any other way. He looked around the place... It was cleaned but still needed some work around... Corners of his mouth twitch slightly. He could help... But the thought disappeared quickly. He had to know what happened yesterday. He looked back at her. "Ione... I am sorry... but I hardly remember what had happened yesterday." he bowed his head to avoid her eyes, in shame. "Did I... hurt you in any way?" |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 22 2010, 02:23 AM Post #193 |
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Author: golden_trillium Date: Fri May 16, 2008 2:58 pm Linnette
"I suppose so," Linnette agreed with a smile, standing and wiping at her eyes as Drake got up, too. He crossed to the window- no large distance in the tiny room- and emptied the washing water out of it, causing Linnette to shiver slightly in the cold air from the outside as he opened the shutter. She drew her arms around her again, for the warmth, this time, and looked at her companion expectently. Drake still stood there, the washing cloth in his hands, looking as if he was going to say something- but for a long moment, there was silence between them, an awkward silence which tensed Linnette's stomach and made her, for the first time, uneasy about being here. She had just about concluded that he was not going to speak after all, and was about to turn towards the door to take her leave, when he did speak- stiff, formal words that sounded almost as if they had been memorized.
Linnette nodded, not speaking herself for a moment- though Drake, most likely, could not even see the nod. He had turned from her, laying the cloth on the windowsill with his back to her, and clearing his throat, painful awkwardness evident in his very posture. She swallowed and shifted her feet. Awkwardness- again. Awkwardness with everyone, now that Gedeon was gone. To one extent or another, it had been that way with Derfel, and Arthur, and Dagonet and Saoirse, and even Linnesse. She had lost the very center of her life- and all else was out of balance. Was it even possible that it would ever be otherwise again? She took a deep breath and addressed Drake's back. She had to say something, even if it was stupid. The alternative was turning around and leaving without a word. "Thank you..." she sniffed a bit, clearing out the rest of the tears, and continued on, her voice broken, but making a valiant try for sincere expression, just as Drake had just been doing. "You...you've helped me a great deal...even though you didn't have to. I...well...I appreciate it. I truly do." She paused, then, almost ready to leave the room if he didn't answer that, to just leave and end this conversation that was rapidly going nowhere. But she didn't really want to have to do that- she was hoping for some ancknowledgement. For him to turn around and give her a little smile, maybe- one she could return, and by smiling be a little bit cheered herself. Maybe it would work that way. Unconsciously, her hands came together in front of her, the good one carefully cradling the bad. If only Gedeon were here...Gedeon would hug her and kiss her and then everything, truly everything, would be all right. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 22 2010, 02:24 AM Post #194 |
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Author: Elessars Girl Date: Fri May 16, 2008 7:15 pm Derfel Derfel briefly glanced up at Lucius before the kind soldier stepped away to presumably go in search of Saoirse. He then had the intentions of letting Dagonet know about the candle Linnette had burning for Gedeon in the chapel and once again promise to look after her when a familiar boisterous voice broke the silence in the room. Bors.
The younger knight gave a tightlipped smile in greeting, but remained silent as the two Sarmatians exchanged a few words. Bors was, as far as Derfel knew, Dagonet’s best mate….just as Gedeon had been Derfel’s. And that thought only led to further despair for the younger man. However, in the aftermath of Gedeon’s death – and the death of his father – his fellow knights had been kind and supportive.
“I can fetch a healer if you’d like there, Bors…and that there bed seems to be available,” Derfel added with a concerned expression while gesturing towards the empty cot on the other side of Dagonet. “No doubt you’d be needin’ a few stitches yourself, aye?” Derfel added with a small nod; referring to how he and Bors had worked together to get Dagonet stitched up last night while still on the road from Segedunum. “Would hate for that leg to rot off on you,” The younger knight warned, only half teasing. If Bors’ leg was paining him, then no doubt infection had set in….or as the older man had mentioned…something was still stuck in his flesh. Derfel had attempted to have a look at Bors’ wound that night too, but he’d not been able to see much in what little campfire light they’d had. Perhaps Dagonet would be able to persuade the burly knight to have a healer tend that leg. Thus Derfel returned his attentions to Dagonet in the hope that the tall Sarmatian would convince Bors to be treated. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 22 2010, 02:26 AM Post #195 |
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Author: lady ione Date: Fri May 16, 2008 8:31 pm Ione The young weaver watched Mirtha, and waited for him to say something, though she had probably already guessed as to why he had sought her out. He had been drunk, and she had been unsure and scared at first...the fear of Javier ever finding out about this "incident" in the loft of the stables. Mirtha seemed uneasy as he began...
Ione blushed a soft pink as he spoke, though most was embarrassment slightly. It seemed to her, now that she recalled the act, that he knew full well what he had done to her. It confused her a bit as he had told her also that she had pleased him before she left the stables. Hurt me? how could you not remember, but yet you recalled that it was I who you had taken out of need? Ione saw that man look to the floor in a profound expression of shame, and felt an odd urge to reassure the man that he had done nothing to hurt her. The young woman moved close to him, and placed her fingers under his chin to make him look at her. Her softly accented voice was a whisper, 'Mirtha, you did nothing to hurt me. If you had, I would not have allowed you in here with me....' Soft fingers moved over his face as Ione told him what had happened: How she had been afraid of him at first, but then had given herself freely to him as she herself had been in need of comfort. Her eyes searched his, as she moved forward and placed a soft kiss on the side of his mouth, then moved a bit away. She moved her eyes back to his, "Even after I left the stables, my body still wanted your touches. I was afraid that Javier would find out, but he told me that he was going off to foreign lands to fight." Taking Mirtha's hands in hers, Ione waited to see what the stable master would say. She could not smell wine on his breath which meant that he was sober right now. Mirtha, you told me earlier this morning that I pleased you, but now that you are sober... |
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