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| May 2008 | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Mar 18 2010, 02:23 AM (3,628 Views) | |
| golden_trillium | Mar 22 2010, 02:27 AM Post #196 |
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Author: Darya Date: Sat May 17, 2008 5:08 am Darya Darya could tell by the look in Tristan’s eyes that he was at least pondering her words. He definitely was one of the most indifferent people she knew…yet even he cared at least a bit…when it came to his fellow knights. The female Sarmatian briefly let her gaze lock with Galahad’s before Tristan finally said something…
The dark-haired nodded slightly at the young knight’s words and gave a somewhat agreeing shrug of her shoulders of that. “Whatever you do…or not do…just don’t piss the two ladies off at the same time. Not healthy, for sure.” Darya then smirked slightly. She knew both women…and while she did get along with Saoirse quite well since the Villa mission, Linnette – as well as her sister to a certain extent – was pretty much on top of her 'to avoid and ignore'-list. Granted, there was a certain commiseration for the now widow…but that was just because Darya knew all too well how it felt to lose the man you love and to not even be able to bury the corpse and say 'goodbye' properly. The woman pushed herself away from the fence again and straightened her back. “If you excuse me now, gentlemen, I have two horses to tend to myself…”, she then said and gestured towards the two stalls in which Kahlan and Círdan were waiting for her. And then I need to wash, she added in thought while turning and slowly making her way towards her horses… |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 22 2010, 02:29 AM Post #197 |
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Author: Unicorn Date: Sat May 17, 2008 1:57 pm Dagonet Lucius moved to look for Saoirse and Dagonet watched the man back for a moment before looking at Derfel. He saw that the young man wanted to say something more, but Bors came in and made it's loud greeting. Bors took Dagonet I am fine answer with a disbelieving smile and understanding look. Bors knew Dagonet all too well to not know that the tall knight was only telling this to hide his weakness and appear stronger than he is in reality. And Dagonet knew Bors too well to not know that deep inside his friend was sincerely feeling broken to Gedeon's death. Maybe not because of the simple fact of the death, but because Dagonet was so hurted by it. Dagonet knew it, cause they were friends for long and in the same case, Dagonet would feel the same. But they both would hide it behind the mask... The mask of pretneding that everything was alright. At least in front of others. If not for Derfel, Bors and Dag would talk in a different way right now. At his question about Bors's injury, his friend shrugged and looked down at the leg. Dagonet's eyes wondered in the same direction, but in truth the tall knight was too weak to help any other way than to look at it. Normaly it would be him to take Bors to the infirmary, put him on a bed and order him not to move, while he worked on the wound.
Dagonet frowned slightly. Something in it? Who had seen to that wound? He would make his friend to stay and let healers to look at him... Dagonet won't talk about that Bors should do this earlier... only sternly say his opinion about the situation.
Dagonet had not looked at the younger knight, his brows stitched in a little concern look, which he used to give Bors in those kind of situations. He saw that understanding look, which Bors was giving him..... their silent conversation running between the two of them. Dagonet was sure that Bors had told him about the wound, because he knew that his friend was surely the one, who will make him stay and tend to that leg. "Sit there... and wait for the healer Bors." he told him in his low, yet a weak voice. He looked at Derfel and gave him a slight nod. "Derfel, could you get somebody?" He looked back at Bors and attempted a weak smile, but it did not come out. The situation was so normal for the two of them. He reached for Bors's hand and squeezed it slightly. "I am sorry.... I should be the one... taking care of it." he said silently enough only for Bors to hear him. Evana
Evana smiled slightly. "Don't you charm me, Brendyn... and let me work" She saw his winces and heard his groans, but she could not do anything more about it. She had to do her job.... And as she was done Brendyn was a little dazed, but enough focus to know she was done and that she was still by him. Evana did not give him any strong medicine, only neccessary to give him, to dull the pain and ease his hurt a little.
Evana saw his internal fight to keep himself awake. She remained by his side as he spoke softly. She gave him a smile and nodded her head. "Rest now, soldier." She registered to let somebody know about him and watch him for the night. As the man closed his eyes Evana smiled once more and was ready to leave, when a woman came in and aknowledged Evana while sitting by Brendyn's side. Somebody close to him probably. Healer nodded her head, took her things and left the two of them. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 22 2010, 02:30 AM Post #198 |
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Author: LadyCastus Date: Sat May 17, 2008 3:50 pm Titrus When the girl yanked herself outside of his grip, Titrus thought she was refusing to go with him. Much to his surprise however, the girl freed herself from his grip only momentarily, so she could retrieve the doll Titrus had placed on the medical table. The action made Titrus stand straighter with his chest puffed out a little, knowing that the girl actually understood his feeble attempt at appearing humane to her. Human one minute, warden the next, he thought to himself as he opened the door to the room and led the woad girl out. "We're heading back to the cells now. Crisis over," Titrus said to the two guards outside the room. "Report back to your squad commander and let him know you have been released. Also inform him to gather the other squad commanders and report to me at the high hour of the day for a briefing regarding Captain Barbattus. Then you are resume your patrols. Is that clear?" "Oy sir," they said in unison. The woad girl was staring at all three of them strangely, but much to Titrus' relief, she did not fight him. Yet. He motioned to her to move forward and they walked through the infirmary. Titrus yanked a blanket off one of the beds, hoping to all that was holy that Sister Lavinia didn't catch him in the act, and wrapped it around the child's shoulders. As they walked out of the infirmary doors, Titrus placed his hand on the girl's shoulder, pulling her closer to him. The day was cold and rainy still. The Roman slid his arm under his own cloak, making like a wing and then draped his arm back around the girl, trying as best he could to keep her warm. They made their way through the commons and were almost back to the dungeons when Titrus stopped suddenly. The lieutenant turned around quickly and squinted his eyes, scanning the area from left to right. He listened carefully. Someone had been following them, of that he was sure. But he didn't know who it was or where they'd disappeared to at that moment. Gripping the handle of the dagger tucked neatly in his waistband, Titrus looked down at the girl whose black eyes locked onto his. Staring at her for a moment, he tightened his arm around her and continued onward to the dungeons. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 22 2010, 02:32 AM Post #199 |
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Author: lady ione Date: Sat May 17, 2008 5:08 pm Brendyn He felt dazed, but the pain in his arm was being dulled slightly by the effects of the herbs. Brendyn was so "out of it" that he thought he had seen Titrus leading the smaller woad out of the room. Did the man need help? Even though he had had his wound taken care of, Brendyn was still on duty, and needed to finish what he had been ordered to do unless God had other plans. The young soldier felt that his punishment had been from God because of the way he had acted, and treated the two woads and the not so nice nun. Brendyn doubted that even if he had been nice to her, she still would not have been nice. His heavy eyes came back to rest on the nun who had taken such good care of his arm...at least he would not lose it to infection and for that, he was grateful, plus he was still very alert dispite the herbs. Brendyn calculated that he would be ready for duty in about one or two hours depending on when the herbs wore off. He returned the nun's smile as she spoke....
Brendyn winced slightly as she adjusted some of the bandages, then he smiled at her in a tired but charming manner. 'I love...to charm all of the ladies...but for you it was a compliment. I mean...I meant nothing disrespectful, Sister.' Brendyn moved his eyes about the room, as he thought he had heard voices not far off (Derfel, Lucius, Dagonet). They were muffled voices, but something else nagged at him, and his eyes moved to where he thought the once guarded room was...the one with the two woad prisoners. Frowning, the looked around to see if anyone else had taken note, but no one seemed alarmed at all. Odd.
Nodding, Brendyn left his eyes close, but he was not asleep. In sleep, he could hear more, and block out other noises. Only those noises or voices of anyone needing his services... It seemed like only a few minutes when he heard the sound of a lite footfall on the infirmary floor and headed in his direction. He had not heard Evana move off, but figured she was ready to as she had others to tend to. Brendyn flinched slightly, then relaxed as he felt soft delicate hands take ahold of his and just hold them. Slowly, the young soldier opened his deep blue eyes to look into Tatiana's face. How had she heard about this? He smiled at her, "Tatiana, how did you know I was here?" He had missed his friend, but he had little time to spend with her, or at least until the herbs wore off. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 22 2010, 02:33 AM Post #200 |
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Author: Starbelle Date: Sat May 17, 2008 6:59 pm Tatiana
"A servant or errand boy, not really too sure which, told me that there were a couple of Roman soldiers in here and that one was injured. After thanking and paying the lad a coin for the information, I headed over here to check it out." Tatiana replied truthfully to him, relieved to hear that her voice had lost most of its post-teary-hiccupiness sound after her crying jag from a few hours ago, and only a few hiccups remained. Returning his grin with one of her own at seeing him again, she fervently hoped that her eyes had lost all of their reddish-puffiness too, but being familiar with what a crying jag does to her system, she knew that it would still be awhile yet before everything went completely back to normal. Glancing over at him, she glanced down at their entertwined fingers, then back up into his deep blue eyes, happy that she could spend some time with him. "What happened to you, Bren?" Tatiana asked curiously. "How are you feeling? Are you ok?" |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 22 2010, 09:16 PM Post #201 |
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Author: golden_trillium Date: Sat May 17, 2008 7:51 pm Tristan
"Good horses, those," Tristan mumurred inconsequentially as Darya pushed herself away from the fence and began to head over in the direction of the stalls. Horses were a much more comfortable subject for talking about than the ins and outs of who to inform about Tirgatao...though if Tristan was lucky, he wouldn't have to carry on any conversation any more right now. He snuck another look at Galahad, an uncomfortable, rather guilty look as, with Darya gone, the silence stretched between them for a moment. Apparently, Galahad still expected Tristan to do something about this, say something to somebody- but Tristan was little inclined to do so. Tell Dagonet- sure, eventually, but there was no hurry and no need to make a production of it. Tell Linnette- no. At least not personally. The scout's insides squirmed inside him at the thought, rebelling against the awkwardness of it, even imagined. No. "Uh...I'm gonna put this one away," Tristan finally muttered, head ducked and no loner meeting Galahad's eyes, as he crossed back over to Tirgatao's head and took his rein in a businesslike fashion. He was about done here anyway- he had worked with the horse to his satisfaction for the morning and even though it was a little early, maybe he could head over towards the tavern and see if his whore for the afternoon was available yet. She would be a welcome distraction- if she canned the talk. Sullenly, Tristan led Tirgatao out of the riding arena, past Galahad, and towards the stalls, glad enough for now that his stall was not particularly near either of Darya's either. There was nothing to encourage further talk- and within the bounds of not skimping on his duties towards his new mount, Tristan wanted to be out of here and on to other things as soon as he could be. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 22 2010, 09:17 PM Post #202 |
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Author: linnet Date: Sat May 17, 2008 8:22 pm Mother Lavinia Lavinia’s attention to her supply records kept being interrupted by slight prickles of guilt, until eventually she put down her books and rose from her chair. Opening the door to her office, she peeked out cautiously. Her bothered conscience was relieved to see that Evana was tending to the insolent-mouthed soldier. Good. The old nun had satisfied her sense of revenge, but no one was the worse for it. Clean conscience, clean slate with The Boss. Looking beyond the cot where Evana was working, Lavinia noticed that there was no longer anyone guarding the little room where she had put the two Woads. She marched over there and looked through the open door. Empty of Woads. She harrumphed, angry that her instructions to let no one into the room without her knowledge had obviously been ignored. Unless the guards had abandoned their post, the two patients had certainly not escaped. So someone must have come to take them away, back to the dungeon. All her work to help them would go for nothing. The filth of the dank cells would kill them sooner or later. Well, the dungeon was out of Lavinia’s realm of influence. Once they had left her infirmary, there was nothing she could do. Not unless she was of a charitable nature, which she was not. She called for an assistant to make up the bed and straighten the room. As she started back to her office, her attention was drawn to a loud voice coming from the section where the badly injured knight had been taken yesterday. She decided to investigate. There, gathered around the bed were three intruders, one of whom moved off before she got there. The other two she recognized. More knights. “What makes you think this man is well enough to have a party?” she asked as she planted herself at the foot of the cot, arms folded in front of her. “He needs rest and quiet. And where pray tell has your own private nurse gone off too?” she addressed Dagonet. “If that woman ever becomes a halfway competent healer it will be a miracle.” The nun shot a crabby glance tempered by a slight glint of amusement at Bors, as he sat on the unoccupied cot next to Dagonet. “And you,” she said sharply to the burly knight. “Unless you’re injured, get your behind off that cot.” There was something about the rough-hewn boisterous man that could always get to her, make her smile in spite of herself. “Everybody out. Now,” she commanded, standing firm. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 22 2010, 09:18 PM Post #203 |
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Author: lady ione Date: Sat May 17, 2008 8:53 pm Brendyn The slightly dazed young soldier just looked at the copper haired woman. He liked her, but he felt his mood slowly turn sour as she spoke. Brendyn's eyes narrowed as Tatiana spoke despite the fact that her voice sounded as though she had been crying what she told him was something he definitly did not expect nor like...
....You had me followed? Is that what you are trying to tell me...that you have become so obsessed with me that you had me followed? Brendyn sat up slightly against the pillow, "You paid someone for information that they gave you concerning me?! Tatiana, I like you very much, but in the future, do not pay anyone for information concerning my whereabouts." Brendyn left out a heavy sigh after he spoke. He trusted few who paid for information....okay so perhaps she had been concerned, but did she really know whom she had gotten the information from? "I am still on duty, and I have to go and serve my punishment after the effects of the lite painkiller wear off...." He felt tense as though lying there was making him look weak. Antonius would have been in there in a shot to get him up and about once he was mended.... All of the tenseness went as he followed her eyes to where their fingers intertwined. It all felt so right and yet. Brendyn's look softened, "I am sorry I was angered by what you said, but there are those in forts who give out information who are not so respectable...I just want you to be careful.'' Slowly, he brought her hand to his lips and kissed the back of it, before moving them both back down to the cot. 'I hope you'll still want to be near me after three days of latrine duty," Brendyn laughed lightly.
Brendyn recalled the moment when he had saved Centurion Quintus's life while he was being attacked by woads. In the process, he had taken a sword in the arm: one, Evana had neatly taken care of, and the other was not so bad. "Better than I did about an our ago..." Or had it been longer? Brendyn released her hand, and managed to sit up a bit more. "Evana gave me a lite painkiller so that I could go back to my duties in an hour, instead of being couped up for two days, so I am feeling slightly dazed, and I will be fine." All he could think in his mind was his duties he had to do before the end of the day, and by the position of the sun, he figured he still had time to get his arse over to where Titrus had led him.... |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 22 2010, 09:20 PM Post #204 |
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Author: sabor ice Date: Sun May 18, 2008 12:26 am Milan Being severed from Mari's side, after spending countless hours cozied up with her, sheltered from the outside world within the sanctuary of her arms, was odd to say the least. All the fear and pain and uncertainty they had endured together the past few days seemed a passing trifle, a distant memory, as long as Milan was able to bask in the beauty that had unexpectedly bloomed between them. Even under the blanket of a rainy day, Milan uncharacteristically glowed with optimism. Mari had awakened faith in him. It was impossible for the entire world to be ugly if something as wondrous as she lived in it - he wanted to believe that. He lifted his angel's face to the sky, his blue gaze no longer tinted with despair, but vibrant with hope, as he stepped out from under the temporary protection of one building's eave. He closed his eyes as the rain cascaded against his pallid complexion, his body becoming submissive to the wind's prominent sway. He parted his lips for a moment, tasting until water sloshed from the edges of his mouth, dripping along his angular jaw and down the front of his tunic where it was tugged loose at the top. Milan gave a small groan of approval as the droplets painted their way down the smooth plains of his chest and abdomen below, cooling the sting to his battered body. After a few minutes, the young man finally shrugged his coat more snugly about himself, folding his arms over his chest. He was looking to wander somewhere indoors, when his gaze momentarily stalled upon a passing man (Titrus) tottering in the opposite direction as he. Milan cocked his head to the side, an eyebrow quirking curiously when he noticed the man had two pairs of feet beneath his cloak. For the briefest of moments, the material parted as he quickly moved his hand to something in his waistband, revealing a girl (Eala) wrapped in beside him. Milan's brow gently puckered as he locked gazes with her, intrigued by her superficial calm that might've been deemed eerie to some. Her eyes were black like night - a complete contrast to his clear blue ones - and she seemed to speak loudly although her lips did not move at all. From the corner of his eye, Milan saw the glistening of a knife not meant for him, Titrus' claw-like digits wrapped about the hilt menacingly. Instinctively, he backed away - not so much out of fear - yet - but out of wariness. Milan was perfectly statuesque as his cautious gaze flickered between the girl and the man questioningly, his composure radiating the illusion of a Greek God against a gloomy backdrop. Alina Alina stirred on the bed, blindly reaching out her hand to touch Galahad beside her, her palm smoothing against the mattress instead. Her brow frowned in slight disappointment to find him gone. She sighed deeply and tucked the hand back up under her head, only to turn over onto her other side a moment later. Her brown eyes opened slowly and aimlessly stared toward the wall. Sleep had dismissed her back into reality - she buried her face into the pillow and groaned as her mind began to process coherent thoughts. For the first time since Galahad's return, Alina was glad that he was absent. She was positive her less than inconspicuous guilty antics earlier had irrevocably marred her - why didn't she just stamp it on her forehead that she had been with Kolya? For a long while, she lay quietly and debated with herself over what was to be done now. She couldn't stand the thought of seeing the look of disappointment and betrayal on Galahad's face when she told him the truth, but to prolong the inevitable would've probably been consequentially worse for all parties involved. She breathed out another heavy, listless sigh, her pretty face screwed up in troubled contemplation as she dragged herself out of bed. Thoughtlessly, she smoothed her hands through her hair and dazedly donned on her shoes and cloak. She swallowed roughly, glancing toward the door while swaying in uncertainty. Finally, Alina willed herself to leave the room. Galahad deserved to know the truth - there was nothing else to it. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 22 2010, 09:25 PM Post #205 |
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Author: Pinkie Date: Sun May 18, 2008 2:44 am Catherine Catherine left the girls in the infirmary, hoping that there would be some truce met between them when she visited them next. It was upsetting to see two so young be so caught up in adult worries. Shrugging into her cloak a little deeper, the whore's hand slid down over her bodice, straightening herself out. Her fingers ran over the close to empty pouch at her waist - one coin inside of it. It was worth alot, that coin. It was worth a night in her arms and confidence, she thought gloomily. Grimacing when she saw the rain still teeming, the blonde looked at the comings and goings in the rain. A guard and his prisoner, tiny though she was, going to the dungeons. An attractive, pale figure watching. A woman without a cloak hurrying through the drizzle with a parcel under her arm, no doubt a pile of food, as much as she could afford. Another man was crouched by the wall, looking on non-chalantly, miserably, at the weather. Catherine felt a certain amount of peace in seeing people about their daily tasks. Even with the woads attacking things went back to normal quickly. She longed for a place of sunshine, carnivals and festivals though. Somewhere where they hung decorations from pale buildings and drank wine from great big vats, where the men had dark skin and ready smiles and the sea was a magnificent shade of blue, the sun so hot that the residents took to swimming in it to cool down. Sighing, the woman shook her head in guilty foolishness and went to step forward. A blonde male was trumping through the puddles towrads the infirmary. Catherine's heart gave a start, her stomach a lurch and her cheeks flushed an embarrassed pink. His earlier, abrupt departure from the tavern replayed in her mind and the whore knew a moment of doubt. Her idea was silly. It was not enough to broach a peace between them, why should it be? And yet .. The whore gave a tiny groan of defeat and shrugged her hood up. She ran out into the rain and hurried, slowly due to her insane need to avoid puddles and hold up her skirts, until she was at an angle to cross hispath. Calling out would only set him moving faster so instead, Catherine just planted herself in front of the Knight, her breath coming in short, heavy pants from the tense dash. Catherine lifted her hazy green eyes to Gawain's and blushed furiously again. "Oh.." she whispered, frowning and looking down. She fumbled at her waistband a moment and then paused, took a deep breath, then continued in a more civilised fashion. She spotted a dash of muck on the hem of her skirt and her shoulders sagged in misery. Dirty. Catherine glanced sideways at Gawain, the tension palpable, and her fingers finally curled around the coin. Without a word, but keeping her eyes upon his, Catherine reached across the space between them and placed the coin into his palm before taking a step back, nervously watching his reaction. Her gaze flickered down to the metal disc and back to his face. "It is from Carthage." she explained uselessly in a voice rendered weak with nervousness. The silver-like coin fit perfectly in the circle created when Catherine pinched the pad of her thumb and index finger together. She thought it was a type of metal of sorts.... but it was not the value of the coin that made her want to give it to Gawain. It was the decoration. On one side of it there was an image of three lanky humanoid figures carved out - their willowy frames stood beneath a baking sun that sat above their shoulders. Their facial features were different from their own, their skin visibly dark from the way the person who made the coin had scraped it. On the other side there was writing, an inscription pertaining to Rome - but beneath that there were two creatures heads etched. One, to Catherine, looked like an extraordinarily large cat, with spots though, not stripes. The other animal was much more intriguing. It had a snout as long as a house was tall! And two great big curved teeth coming out of it's head on either side of the snout. Hazy green eyes flickered from the coin in his dirty fingers up to his face. One of her hands snuck out from her cloak and toyed with a strand of hair coming down in front of her ear, twisting it about her pale finger in her habitual show of nervousness. Drake No, he did not see her nod. Drake remained oblivious to Linnette's acceptance of his sympathy because, out of all the things in this world he had ever faced... visigoths, woads, saxons, Roman Centurions and Emperors, the Church, the infidels, the very King of Jerusalem!, he feared admitting true emotions the most. He feared turning around and seeing his feelings mocked. He did not express them often and so when he did, it was painfully awkward, cringingly clumsy and blatantly a new experience. The ex-soldier pursed his lips, dipping his head as he remained facing the window, letting the cool emanating from the window do something to focus his attention rather than letting himself do something as weak and embarrassing as blushing. For God's sake! He was a Roman soldier not a damn slip of a girl who blushed at mere words!
He heard her words and slowly turned, just she finished speaking. There was a smile to his face, a genuine smile though it was lopsided and a little self-deprecating. She looked sincere, sounded it though her voice was reed-like, bending to the force of her emotion rather than breaking on it. Drake felt a cheat. He helped her because of an unspoken affection for her. Would he have been so helpful if it had been another woman? Another woman whose hands did not make him think of what he had lost in his own charred past? Would he have been so helpful if he did not find the color of her hazel eyes to be magnificent and the stubborn set of her shoulders in awkward circumstances to be endearing. It had all gone awfully wrong in his heart. But it seemed to have helped Linnette, in some fashion, so Drake could not hate himself for the ulterior motives no matter how he wanted to. His smile altered from self-deprecating to genuine, abashed, gratitude. "A help freely given for you..." his green eyes narrowed and dipped to her hands neatly folded over her stomach, just a moments hestitation on making that a plural. Did he have the nerve and courage to offer his help to another man's unborn child? Well, that would sort itself when the tiem came... How did he explain to her that being in her company was payment enough, was recompense enough, for whatever acts he did for her? He dare not mention it. So he gave a half-grin instead, pushing away from the sill, "It keeps this old man's mind focussed." Drake added wryly, lowering his face a moment in mild amusement. At times he really did feel.... old. Galahad Galahad's company dispersed itself gradually. He nodded at Darya, giving her a boyish smile as she departed to tend to her horses, and he turned his pale blue eyes to Tristan who also made his excuses and went about his own business. The youngest knight stayed there a moment, going to check on his own horse since he was in the stables. The equine had suffered a scratch on her rump from the battle, something that disturbed Galahad. He did not like to think that his horse was the target whilst in war... that was wholly wrong in his opinion as a Sarmatian. The horses were trained to stomp, bite and kick, of course, but that did not make them a party to the battle. Not in his opinion. The Saxons were cowards if they could not face the axe upon the horse! Raking a hand back through his knotted, curly, black hair, Galahad made his way out of the stables, pausing to overlook the courtyard. He fancied something to eat but felt bad going about soemthing to eat without Alina. Pursing his lips, he considered going back to the room to see if she was awake, but ... chickened out. He shrugged uncomfortably, not sure he had his wits about him enough to decipher the cryptic reactions she was having to things he said. So he made his way towards the main courtyard slowly, his arms folded over his chest with his cloak pulled tight from his fingers, wrapping him in a cocoon of sodden wool. He sniffed, wondering about going to see Dagonet instead of eating first... but when he turned towards the infirmary he saw Gawain. The young knight's face brightened with happiness at first. The blonde woman kind of looked like Brianna from this angle... but when he realised it wasn't his smile turned to puzzlement, then mischief when he saw his brother speaking with what was obviously the most high-class whore at Badon. He knew her to see, like most of the Knights, so was rather baffled to note that she handed him a coin and not the other way around! What the hell was that? Galahad tilted his head to the side, watching the interaction a moment... Eala Eala had her reasons. Titrus observed her from his sphere of reference, his lovely little daughters that never knew the hardship that Eala had known, nor the abandonnment. So, whilst he did puff out his chest in pride at her grabbing the doll, he did not realise that she planned the hide her little knife inside of it. She knew that because he had given it to her that no-one would take it away from her. That made sense. As they left the infirmary, the man snatched a blanket and dripped it over her shoulders. Eala stiffened at first, casting him an accusing, suspicious eyeball before relaxing, relatively, inside the warmth of the blanket. She allowed him to wrap her in the wing of his cloak because, she told herself, it would do no good to protest. She was behaving herself so that he would not suspect her, she behaved because she knew Ash was there somewhere, that he knew where she was and he would not leave her. He promised he wouldn't. They paused. Eala looked up at Titrus with narrowed black eyes. She saw him looking around suspiciously and her heart jumped into her throat. "Mmm" she complained, her pale face upturned was being splattered by rain. He started to move again and Eala felt a sense of relief. She had to be careful that Ash wasn't spotted, that his presence wasn't realised. Her freedom depended on it. As they walked, Eala started to 'talk' to herself, her lips moving as she practised how to speak so that she would be able to communicate with this Titrus man. Food... I want food. I am hungry. Where is Neeria? Where have you taken her? Do not hurt her. The words were silent, of course, but her lips moved with the precise actions of a person who observed people's lips moving when they spoke and had made an art out of it. The little blonde tossed her head a little, her damp, blonde hair plastered to her face as she peered out from Titrus' cloak. She tried to convince herself that it wasn't particularly nice being hunched under his armpit, that the warmth of another body beside hers meant little to her, that it affected her not in the slightest to have someone actually go out of their way to keep her sheltered. Nah - he was just making sure she didn't run away. Her black eyes lifted and inadvertently fell on a pale faced, blue eyed male a short distance away. Eala wrinkled her nose, wondering why he was looking at her so oddly. She felt ridiculed somehow... as if he knew that she was being weak by not running away. I will die before I become one of you. she mouthed and dropped her face, sulking now, the doll still hanging from her fingers awkwardly. Kolya Kolya was agitated after his meeting with Mari. He felt somewhat scolded by her uncharacteristic anger. He had thrown worse, much worse, at her in the past and she had taken it like a trooper. But this had really turned her on him for some reason. Of course the Sarmatian did not give the idea that she was genuine in her feelings any consideration at all. He knew she was wrong, he knew that she was just cooing over a pretty fucking face and not really in love with the whippet. He changed his clothes, wearing a dark tunic to match his dark mood, and went out of the room, intent on finding something to eat. Maybe he'd get fed at the infirmary if he put on a cough or something... ? The thoughts of spending his last few coins on food, and not drink, seemed wrong to him. Scratching a hand against the top of his head, the Sarmatian ambled out of his room and started down the hallway, his blue eyes spotting Alina before she had a chance to see him. A wry, devious grin curled his lips as he mooched up behind her quietly, taking in the crinkled state of her dress, teh slightly frazzled look to her hair and the ungainly way she walked. Of course Kolya put this down to carnal acts and not just the fact that she had fallen asleep awkwardly in her clothes. He squashed the little bit of jealousy and ludicrous feelings of betrayal ruthlessly, favouring Alina with his most charming, crooked smiles as he came up alongside her. "Hmph - you and baby-face been busy have you? D'you leave him inside there wasted whilst you go get food to replenish your energies to start all over again?" he teased crudely, chuckling deeply as he walked beside her down the corridor. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 22 2010, 09:26 PM Post #206 |
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Author: Kay Date: Sun May 18, 2008 3:14 am Guinevere The fortress was close now; Guinevere could hear the jumble of voices carried from within the stark walls carried on a slight breeze. They would have to stop very soon and find a place to wait for Ash's signal. She turned to glare impatiently at Mona, who was lagging behind them. The Woad princess did not feel comfortable having anyone out of her field of vision, even a fellow Woad; especially this fellow Woad! Guinevere did not trust Mona an inch. She slowed her pace to fall into step with the girl. "We must search for a suitable hiding place" she said pleasantly. She would not betray her feelings of mistrust, better for Mona to believe that Guinevere was her friend. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 22 2010, 09:28 PM Post #207 |
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Author: Elessars Girl Date: Sun May 18, 2008 9:04 am Arthur The Optio appeared to accept Arthur’s instructions without hesitation or question. Good. Perhaps Scipio was indeed up to this most imperative task. Yet, it was still quite difficult for the Commander to send anyone in his stead on such a crucial errand.
Arthur’s hand on his hip lifted to casually scratch at his stubbly throat. He parted his lips to answer when movement from Lancelot drew his full attention. Emerald eyes gave a warning glance at the Sarmatian as Arthur had no doubt Lancelot still wished to murder the Optio if given the chance. But his gaze quickly fell to the distinct line of fine dark hair now partially visible as Lancelot’s leathers slid low over his hips as he walked. Damn him for having the ability to distract Arthur….still. But the pain in the Commander’s side and the importance of this ‘discussion’ allowed Arthur to quickly re-focus on Amadeus....but Lancelot’s voice once again drew Arthur’s attention and ‘concern’.
You are challenging me? Flames threatened to shoot out of Arthur’s emerald eyes as he turned his head enough to meet Lancelot’s angry dark eyes straight on. He crossed both arms over his broad chest; defensive and now thoroughly annoyed….painful stitches and weakened physical state completely forgotten for the moment.
Arthur released an irritated sigh eyebrows pulling together in mild anger. And then Arthur quickly masked his annoyance with Lancelot’s ‘opinions’ by giving Amadeus a neutral expression while returning his gaze to the Optio.
He was, at least for the moment, ignoring Lancelot’s question as Arthur began to speak directing his comments at Amadeus. “While Lancelot’s views of Merlin are not unfounded, proceed with cautious diplomacy,” Arthur firmly stated as deceptively placid green eyes met Scipio’s unreadable grey ones. “Merlin would not hesitate to attempt brutality with Lancelot should I send him to accompany you on this urgent errand,” Arthur’s gaze briefly flickered to his dark knight before continuing. The violent relationship between the Woad leader and the First Knight would definitely end in the death of either or both men should Arthur allow Lancelot any further ‘meetings’ with Merlin. And because of that history, Arthur understood Lancelot’s opinions and reasons for his harsh words of warning. However, the Commander did not want Amadeus’ impression of Merlin heavily swayed by Lancelot’s hatred of the Woad leader. The Commander needed his Optio to face Merlin with a level head and unbiased tact. “Thus why Lancelot is to remain here,” Arthur finished by finally in part answering Lancelot’s inquiry as to what the Commander’s orders were in regards to his First Knight. “I will grant you a private word….” Arthur had not forgotten Amadeus’ request and had began to answer when a knock resounded at the door. “….before you ride out, Optio Scipio,” The Commander finished his sentence and then looked once more to Lancelot. He reached out in a surprisingly gentle grasp on the dark knight’s well formed shoulder. “And you, my friend, will take some rest now and then see to the men….I want a progress report on Dagonet’s condition as well as the rest of the knights,” Arthur said to Lancelot in a tone that brooked no argument and in dismissal if the knight so wished. And silently, intense emerald eyes also communicated both concern for Lancelot and an insistent warning for the dark knight to actually remain inside the fortress. Arthur would be sure to find someone, perhaps Jols or Gawain, to keep a watchful eye on Lancelot…..the Commander would not lose his First Knight to Merlin again…no matter how justified Lancelot’s intentions on revenge may be. Arthur then allowed his hand to slide from Lancelot’s shoulder as he once again folded his arms across his chest. Another wave of pain and mild blurred vision washed over Arthur….he briefly blinked and then remembered the knock at the door. “Come!” The Commander called out to whomever…but hopefully Malcus with the Woad prisoner. The matter of Merlin and avoiding further attacks was still of the utmost importance and urgency. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 22 2010, 09:29 PM Post #208 |
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Author: Starbelle Date: Sun May 18, 2008 1:16 pm Tatiana
"Brendyn, even though you think that you feel fine, you're still feeling the effects of the herb. The daze that you're going through, means that its still in your system and you could wind up really hurting yourself even more because of it." Tatiana replied looking at him, her hazel eyes turned a very dark emerald green as both her emotions and feelings for him overcame her. Tightening her grip on his hand slightly, she knew that she had to make him see what she meant and just why he couldn't leave the infirmary feeling like he was just yet. "Remember that night when I helped you with your cold and how sleepy as well as woozy it made you feel once the herbs took effect?" Tatiana queried him. "Now imagine if she had just given you what I gave you Bren, you'd still be out." Tati informed him, seriously. Besides, this'll give us a bit more time together, beloved. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 22 2010, 09:30 PM Post #209 |
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Author: golden_trillium Date: Sun May 18, 2008 1:54 pm Linnette
"Old man?" Linnette caught the abashed, self-deprecating smile and actually laughed in response to it, a genuine, if small, laugh that did, indeed, lighten her mood a bit, at least for a moment. A fleeting moment- but it could not be otherwise than a joke. Drake was older than she was, certainly, and than Gedeon had been, but there was just no way she thought of him as old. Old was, like, say, her father had been just before he died. Feeble, fragile. By those criteria, Drake was anything but old. "I scarcely think you need me to focus your mind." Linnette rolled her eyes expressively and then dropped her gaze, laughing sheepishly just as he did. He didn't need her for anything- he was just kind. Kind enough to compromise Linnette's better judgement, even- but he didn't need her. Someone like that didn't need her- for one thing, she was a wreck. Linnette spread her hands out in front of her again, looking dolefully at the scratches and scrapes on the one, the bandage on the other. Foolish thing. Foolish, stupid thing. But she could make this the end of foolishness, perhaps. Gedeon would scarcely want her damaging herself, if he knew- he would want her to be healthy, to take care of herself, for the child's sake, too. And that meant she now had to decide what else to do. Linnette took a deep, considering breath, composing her thoughts. Which of the myriad things needing her attention was most urgent? Well, Linnesse was safe asleep when she had looked in on her only a short time ago...that helped. The accounts- maybe she should look in on those and just at least see how much work there was to be done. She crossed her arms over her stomach again, looking back up at Drake with a new sense of purpose, or at least the beginnings of one. "I think...I think perhaps I'll check at the tavern, see what's to be done there. Then I can see about this new room the Optio wants me to have." Another sigh on that; the thought of moving rooms made Linnette feel utterly glum and downhearted. So much work- and then the room Gedeon had slept in given to others, soldiers who would care nothing, maybe even know nothing, of her grief. But it looked like there was no alternative. Linnette took a step backwards, toward the half-open door, her good hand extended to open it further so that she could leave. "You coming? To get your things?" she asked hesitantly, eying Drake again. Surely he wanted to go back for his bags, and she could sense another awkward situation in the works if she bid farewell to him here and then ended up walking beside him down the corridor anyway- but she didn't want to seem to be telling him what to do, or implying he should walk with her. A relaxed moment replaced by awkwardness once again- that was the way everything was lately. Tristan Once Tirgatao had been re-settled in his stall, brushed again and provided once more with grain and water and another carrot for a little treat, Tristan left the stables, glad enough that Galahad had not seen fit to press the issue of who he should tell about his new horse and how and when. It was still raining out, and chilly, but the droplets did seem to be letting up- finally. The blonde whore was nowhere in the courtyard itself, but that was hardly surprising- she'd want to stay indoors in this weather, certainly. Though she had been on the wall this morning- that gave Tristan a second's pause. Slightly strange habits, that one. But anyway, she was nowhere here now. He swung open the tavern door and glanced around at the interior, but she was not there, either- in fact, the tavern was nearly deserted except for the staff. Most people were out at their duties at this hour. Hmmphing softly to himself, Tristan ducked back outside the tavern, shutting the door behind him, and took up instead a seat on a bench just outside the door, one sheltered from the rain under the building's overhanging eaves. He knew he was early, but he wanted to catch the blonde as soon as she appeared in the area- and this was as good a vantage point on the main courtyard as there was to be had. Idly, he withdrew one of his many knives from a belt sheath and began to examine the blade, as he so often did, to no particular purpose, but just sort of reminding himself that it was there and still sharp. There was no such thing as being too prepared. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 22 2010, 09:32 PM Post #210 |
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Author: Pinkie Date: Sun May 18, 2008 2:11 pm Amadeus
There was a certain inner calm that came with knowing you were the best man for the job, the only man for the job. Amadeus let Lancelot have his little rant, barely raising an eyebrow as the wretched creature, his clothes practically hanging off of his lanky body, dared to address him so abruptly. He allowed the indiscretion because it was only adding more power to his 'golden tongue' once he was granted his audience, alone, with Arthur. That thought very near brought on a smug smile from Amadeus, but he quelled it, clearing his throat quietly and looking down to the ground as he pretended Lancelot was not there. Again.
Amadeus took note of Arthur's advice. Cautious diplomacy? He gave a curt nod of his head, his expression oozing compliance and subserviance for the show of it. Arthur would be impressed with his seeming willingness to do precisely as he was bid. Anothr stiff nod of his head, and a sombre exhalation of breath, met Arthur's permission for a private audience. A swell of righteous superiority colored his grey eyes as he glanced over at Lancelot for the briefest moment. His eyebrows lifted in what looked like sympathy for the man being left behind, and for such superfluous reasons too, but he knew that Lancelot would know it was nothing but mockery. When Arthur put his hand on Lancelot's shoulder and addressed the damn slave so companionably, like an equal to an equal, Amadeus very nearly lost his cool altogether. He flexed his fingers into his fist, ignoring the contact between the Commander and his Knight, ignoring it as one ignores an elephant in the tavern... "I will prepare and return at your convenience, Commander." Amadeus said stiffly, not looking at Arthur but at a point on the wall at an angle to the Commander, unable to look at the buddy-like relationship between this man, his supposed superior, and the whelp of a Sarmatian whore. |
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