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| May 2008 | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Mar 18 2010, 02:23 AM (3,627 Views) | |
| golden_trillium | Mar 22 2010, 09:33 PM Post #211 |
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Author: lady ione Date: Sun May 18, 2008 2:36 pm Brendyn In his mind, he could hear Antonius cussing him out for not getting back to his duties, but the painkillers made him feel a bit woozy and dazed making it hard for him to even feel like standing up much less feel competent. Right now, he felt like he could just close his eyes and bask in the warmth of Tatiana's presence. He had not been in love, except for Veronica who had given so much of herself to him...
...Brendyn turned his deep blue eyes from Evana to Tatiana, then back. Reluctantly, he lie back down on the pillow, and turned his head toward his friend, then to Evana, "Okay, I promise not to run out of here...I will behave and rest. You are right of course." hate it when women are always right... His voice was softly accented, and he winked at the nun who he had noticed was getting ready to leave to tend to others. Brendyn smiled up at Evana as if to say "isn't Tatiana the most beautiful creature you ever saw?" He did not come right out and say it, because at first he had liked her as a friend, but there was something else growing in his heart right now. Casting his eyes back at the young woman who sat next to his bed, the young soldier raised a hand and left the long strands of coppery hair run through them. Tatiana's eyes had turned a deep emerald color usually a sign of emotions unseen. For him, each time he looked at her, he felt soft tender desires flood into his body and soul...he wanted her, but she had rejected his first attempt, and he decided to let her decide when she would allow him such a privilage...
Brendyn could only nod. Dang! She was right again! Casting a look at Evana, he said, "She is right and you are right. If I go back on duty now, I would do no one any good. I will rest then." His deep blue eyes went soft as he continued to run his fingers through Tatiana's long hair...it calmed him, even her face calmed him. He liked the way their fingers interlaced...the softness of them. "Tatiana....do you love me?" The effects of the painkillers Evana had given him were enough to kill the pain, but not his alert senses and his hearing and such. He was fully alert despite the slights dazed feeling which would pass soon. Brendyn just had to let his arm heal as he knew he'd be of no use to anyone if he didn't...Still cleaning latrines was not a strenuous job unless one never exercised or ate right. Bren was in top condition, and knew the job would not be that hard for him to do. Except for the smell.... |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 22 2010, 09:34 PM Post #212 |
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Author: Pinkie Date: Sun May 18, 2008 3:39 pm Drake
Drake's mood was lightened by her laughter at how he described himself. She seemed to reject the idea that he was in any way aged which fascinated him. Could she not see the lines etched about his eyes which had seen too much? The scars of battles fought on this land and so many others throughout his long life. He was half-way through his third decade now - and she was ... what... ? barely into her second? Comparitively he should have seemed old to her but she laughed at the mere suggestion. And she also did not realise that he did need her to focus his mind. Otherwise he felt at a loss, a twitching limb with no body. Another thing Linnette did not realise was ... well, Drake was not kind. Not to everyone at least. If she told him she thought he was a kind man, the Spaniard may very well have barked his first proper laugh in her company! No - he was not a kind man to all and sundry. A mere ten minutes in the company of Drake and his recruits would soon change her perception of his 'kindness'.
Drake gave one relieved breath of a sigh when Linnette's hazel eyes became a little more focussed. She still looked utterly miserable, their browny-green depths not conveying happiness, looking almost incapable of happiness right now, but she looked... astute, busy. The Spaniard watched her spread her hands, looking at the bandaging. He gave a lopsided mirthless smile at her reaction to the scratches there but lifted a hand to wipe at his upper lip when she looked back at him. She surprised him by asking him if he was coming with her. Drake's eyebrows lifted and he pursed his lips, nodding his head as he set forward, looking rather baffled by her offer. He smiled at her as he held the door open, gesturing for her to go out ahead of him. He then quickly turned, grabed his cloak and followed. Drake walked a pace behind Linnette again, falling into the role of protector without evening thinking about it. He looked at the back of her head with narrowed green eyes. "What you think is old, then?" he asked, rounding teh corner where he had slung his saddlebags. Without a word, he threw them up over his shoulder again and continued walking by Linnette. Catching a quizzical look to his continued company, he nodded towards the door - "Food." he explained. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 22 2010, 09:35 PM Post #213 |
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Author: LadyCastus Date: Sun May 18, 2008 4:31 pm Malcus Barbattus and Neeria
Malcus turned the knob and pushed the big door open. Immediately, Malcus sensed the continued tension in the room. The smug-looking optio resembled a cat who got the cream and Lancelot looked worn and exhausted. "Move," Malcus said to the woad prisoner. The woman didn't move. "Let's go!" he said more forcefully. The captain placed his big hand on the girls skinny shoulder and gently pushed her over the threshold. "Don't push me, Roman! I will walk on my own accord," Neeria responded angrily, yanking her shoulder from Malcus' grip. Malcus smiled at her. "As you wish, my lady." The small woman walked inside the dark room, staring at the big men gathered together. She was not afraid, but angry. The smell of them mad her angrier. Her eyes darted from one to the other and landed on a tall, thin man with gray eyes. He had rat-like, narrow features and he looked at her as though she were a rabid animal. Immediately she hated him. He was obviously a Roman noble - a distinguished officer of extreme Roman importance - dressed immaculately and richly. His boots were clean and his clothing neat. Neeria rolled her eyes at him and her glare alighted upon the First Knight. "We meet again, Sarmatian," she said. She took in the dark knight who looked thin and pale. He was however, still an ominous figure in the pale light of the room. In his own right, he was a big man - lean and muscular like a wild cat. His face was dirty, his clothes filthy - obviously the same ones he'd worn when she'd last seen him. His wild hair was splayed about his head and he stared at her with blatant hatred. She respected him though even though he, too was a sworn enemy. But he and the rest of the Sarmatians were just pawns of the Roman empire - enslaved thugs ordered to slaughter her people with little or no say. She did not hate him, but she did not trust him either. Finally, her eyes locked onto the fiery gaze of Arthur Castus himself. His jade orbs bore into her and despite herself, a chill slithered its way down her spine. Arthur had been seated on a horse when they'd last met and now, standing at his full height, Neeria paled against his raw power. The authority he exuded was almost hypnotic and she cursed herself as she realized he was truly awesome to her. A massive man, he was, with tightly curled hair, emerald eyes and thin lips. Neeria stared at him, not with hatred, but with wonderment. "Commander, your prisoner," Malcus said as they moved into the room, closing the door behind him. "Arthur, we must find proper clothes for her before we ride. That slip that she is wearing is hardly appropriate. She will need pants and a heavy tunic," Malcus said, "I can order them from storage if you desire." Neeria continued to stare at Arthur. Finally, she spoke. "Why have you summoned me, Roman?" |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 22 2010, 09:37 PM Post #214 |
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Author: Lancelot Date: Sun May 18, 2008 5:58 pm Lancelot
Lancelot hitched his drooping leathers up. Thankfully Arthur had dropped his hand from the Sarmatian's shoulder, otherwise Lancelot might have shaken it off. Why was the Roman speaking of him as if he weren't in the room? As if he were a stupid fool of a soldier who couldn't control his own emotions or behavior if ordered to do something? He bit the inside of his cheek until the pain made him see stars and shake his head. He would check on the others - before he rested. He didn't have to acknowledge Arthur's statement - the other man should know Lancelot would find out how his brothers were. "Merlin might attempt brutality," Lancelot answered finally, his voice steady, but his tone representing his true feelings on the matter. The woad would be dead before he got within spitting distance of Lancelot if they ever came into contact again. Of course, if Arthur ordered him not to hurt the Magician...could he obey? Lancelot would like to think he could, hell, he'd tell Arthur and the Optio and the entire garrison that he could - he'd present Merlin with flowers if that's what the commander told him to do. And then he'd slit his throat at the right time. Fuck diplomacy. The woad was a dangerous creature, and the attack this time should have made Arthur realize that. More fool he, for trusting too easily. Perhaps he wouldn't have trusted you, barbarian dog. You'd better watch your thoughts.
Lancelot did not ignore the look the Optio gave him as the other man opened the door on his way out. It was the look that men give diseased animals that still follow at their heels. Lancelot's dark, bloodshot eyes narrowed and although he did not move, his head twisted to follow Amadeus' exit from the room. Barbattus entered with the girl that had attacked Arthur. She looked and smelled as bad as Lancelot did, and he could not help but laugh darkly at the sight of her.
Lancelot smiled ferally at her, and gave a mocking bow, his hair standing up even more wildly as he tipped his body over and up. "Princess - thank the gods I got to see your radiant beauty once more. I think we belong in the same place." He nodded at her grubby state as he made a sweeping gesture at himself. He winked at her, and then moved back a bit so he could watch her proximity to Arthur. He drew his dirk again and this time, did not play with it. He kept it steadily in his hand. He'd be ready this time if she tried anything.
Lancelot eyed Barbattus. "Don't bother wasting things from the stores. She can have some of my old clothing- they are obviously good enough for our lady." He twisted his mouth wryly and crossed his arms, still keeping a tight hold on the dagger as he regarded his filthy attire. "Don't worry, love," he added. "I'll give you the clean stuff."
Lancelot's comical expression changed rapidly - like the summer storms that filled Britain's skies - to one of intense concentration. He was interested in what Arthur would say to this girl...and how she'd react. "You'd best watch where you tread here, Woad," he cut in before Arthur got a word out. "This Roman is my commander. Go gently." |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 22 2010, 09:38 PM Post #215 |
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Author: linnet Date: Sun May 18, 2008 8:15 pm Gawain Gawain paid little attention to his surroundings as he trudged through the muddy street. He was in no particular hurry since the day still loomed long in front of him. And he was already wet enough that it didn’t much matter if he reached shelter sooner rather than later. He wasn’t far from the infirmary when a cloaked figure moved directly into his path, forcing him to stop. He was about to step around the rude obstruction, but as he looked with a scowl of annoyance, he recognized Catherine. His body defensively pulled back though he stood without moving. He was completely dumbfounded as to what she was up to. He thought he’d made his point clearly in the tavern. He wouldn’t be taken for a fool again – ever, by her. He wasn’t in the market for a quick fuck or a quick fucking over. Still, he watched warily as the young woman nervously fumbled for something while looking at him as though she was afraid he would walk away. When she took his hand and placed the small coin into his palm, Gawain looked down at it briefly. His eyes instead locked on Catherine’s. He studied her a moment with intensity, trying to break through his confusion. She was watching him anxiously. She looked vulnerable and hopeful, and Gawain didn’t want to see her that way. He wanted to see a scheming, opportunistic whore who he could tell to get out of his damn way.
The knight put his hand on her elbow and guided Catherine to the shelter of a nearby doorway. Once out of the rain, he let go of her arm. There was little room in the small shelter, but he backed away so that he could again study her. Once more he glanced at the coin in his hand and then at her face. “What do you want, Catherine?” he asked. His expression was dead serious, as was the question. Was business so slow that she was out in the rain looking for customers? And was he such a gullible, easy, target that she couldn’t pass up another chance to trick him into thinking she was something other than what she was? And what was the coin from Carthage about? He looked more closely at the small silver disc he held. He turned it over and back again. He’d never seen one like it. As he examined it, his curiosity crept forward, intruding on his suspicion. Then he noticed the fine etching of two animal heads. A smile spread very slowly over his face and into his eyes, as he pondered the fantastic creature with the seriously overgrown snout and massive curved teeth. He looked at Catherine, and as much as he wanted to remain stern and cold, it was hopeless in the face of such a goofy looking thing. “What is it?” he asked with a little laugh, cocking his dripping wet head in the direction of the coin. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 22 2010, 09:40 PM Post #216 |
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Author: sabor ice Date: Mon May 19, 2008 12:11 am Alina
Alina wasn't aware someone was behind her until they were practically breathing down her neck, and even then she didn't need to look - there was only one person she knew who lacked respect for personal boundaries. She gave Kolya a critical eye, noting the obvious mischief behind his blue eyes as he easily fell into pace with her. Without preamble, he fished into her personal affairs, causing a sting of annoyance to prickle at her skin, but Alina's face betrayed nothing. She looked on ahead then as they walked, the right corner of her mouth twitching upward, and she gave an incredulous shake of her head. How perfectly ironic that she'd encounter Kolya now. "Sorry to disappoint you - he's just stepped out. But, if it'll satisfy your curiosity, you're welcome to come listen at our door later this evening," Alina replied coolly, cocking her head toward Kolya with a wry smile. In all honestly, evening for Alina was a light-year away. Her future with Galahad had been shrouded in ugly uncertainty daily. His life as a knight guaranteed that anything was possible, but she should always be prepared for the worst case scenario. And now, Alina was going to damn their fragile potential - the truth was going to break his heart, and hers with his. "So what, are you following me now?" Alina inquired then, arching a perfectly sculpted brow. She inconspicuously fanned out her clenched hand furthest from Kolya as she smoothly transisted into a less tedious subject. She cleared her throat with a dry chuckle, masking her hurt and worry with a smile, dipping her head a moment so he wouldn't see how false it was. Cáel What a lovely shade of blissful idiocy snow turned when it was confronted by a torrent of regurgitated spicy ale and jerky. Cáel inched a foot or so across the snow and rolled onto his back. He lifted his head, cocking a thick eyebrow at Betelgeuse, before allowing it to loll back onto his fanned out hood. Damnable, insufferable beast, purposely sinking its backside so to send him diving head-first into the snow. So, the horse had turned out to be a comedian. Cáel didn't like those types of homosapien tragedies - along with gypsies and common whores, pathetically begging for coin or applause, and receiving it even without retaining an ounce of human worth to show for it - and he certainly could go without dealing with one of the animal kingdom as well. "You ever do that to me again, and I'll be sure to donate you to the nearest missionary," Cáel said, perching himself up on his elbows as his dark eyes flickered meaningfully to the steed. "Do you know what happens at a missionary? Nothing. Absolutely nothing - and I mean that in every possible sense, my friend. You'll shrivel up prematurely - surely a most unpleasant experience." The Goth groaned and dropped onto his back again, closing his soulless black eyes as he waited for his head to stop spinning. Admittedly, the rain helped, sobering him up to coherency, until he was able to clamber to his feet without dizzying or tripping. He reached back and pulled his hood up to cloak his face, deftly climbing into Betelgeuse's saddle and urging him onward with a click of his tongue. The road he traveled soon connected to the main one, and a short while later, his destination stood not a heartbeat away. A devious smile spread across Cáel's face as he approached... |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 22 2010, 09:42 PM Post #217 |
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Author: Eledhwen Date: Mon May 19, 2008 5:12 am Bors
The older knight squinted suspiciously at the young man, wondering if he was trying to imply that Bors was weakened by his injury. He might be having a hard time walking straight, but he could still lick a young pup like that into shape, with one arm tied behind his back... or maybe one leg in this case. Derfel seemed to be sincere though, and even attempted to make light of the situation, so Bors merely hurrumphed at him, heaving himself off Dagonet's bed and onto the one beside him. As he did so he didn't even need to put weight on his leg, but even so a sharp pain shot up his side, and he winced, not daring to move further. As a result he sat awkwardly, looking as though he wasn't sure whether he wanted to stay or leave.
Bors glanced at Dagonet as he continued to speak to him, if weakly, and frowned down at the big hand covering his own. Under normal circumstances he would shrug off this open display of affection, especially in front of a young wippersnapper such as Derfel, but for now he allowed it. He knew Dagonet was in a far worse condition than himself, and yet the tall man was still concerned for his friend. Bors sniffed and grinned fiercely to ward off a sudden attack of emotion, and jumped as another, sharper voice entered his consciousness.
Bors stared up at the harriden open-mouthed. Now there was a woman to rival even Vanora with her sharp tongue! Bors was impressed, although he would never admit it of course. This healer would surely scare the pain away... "Well..." he coughted hesitantly, "actually I am a bit injured... sort of..." He attempted a smile and tried to shift his leg to show her, but again the pain shot up his side, as though poison was making its slow way through his sluggish bloodstream. Instead he made do with pointing to his thigh, and closed his eyes slowly as he took a deep breath. Ah well... so much for the brave face... |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 22 2010, 09:43 PM Post #218 |
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Author: Elessars Girl Date: Mon May 19, 2008 8:59 am Derfel Derfel caught Dagonet’s concerned look over at Bors, but as he began to look around for an available healer he did not hear the words spoken between the two older knights. Bors had smartly shifted over to the spare cot beside Dagonet’s. And Derfel was about to get up from his perch at Dagonet’s side when a rather gruff woman approached them and began barking orders….
Derfel’s eyes widened and he immediately stood up from Dagonet’s bed and tugged at his tunic in a poor attempt to straighten the material. He looked down at Dagonet with a sheepish smile as Bors dared answer the healer. The younger knight suddenly felt ‘in the way’. But between the healer's attentions and Bors now at his side, Dagonet was in the best of hands...Derfel had no hesitations in taking his leave as ordered.
“I’ll see if I can find Saoirse for ya, Dag,” Derfel quietly offered his friend and reached down to lightly touch the Sarmatian’s shoulder before stepping away. He glanced over at Bors with a tight-lipped grin and then faced the healer’s intense gaze. “Pardon me, ma’am,” Derfel respectfully tilted his head at the healer and then made a quick exit from the immediate area. He’d catch up with Lucius and hopefully Saoirse. Derfel headed towards the back private rooms in the infirmary, knowing them well from his own stay in this house when he’d been injured before. But as the young knight walked past one room in particular, he could not help a small private smile at the memory of an intimate moment shared in that room with Linnesse. Arthur
“Very well,” Arthur answered Amadeus’ courteous and expected statement and then turned his full attention to Lancelot as Scipio turned away and the door opened. His First Knight’s nearly black eyes appeared to follow the Optio’s exit thus giving Arthur a moment to regard Lancelot unawares. Concern immediately etched into Arthur’s craggy features….Lancelot appeared weary despite the seething anger still burning behind those long lashes and gold-speckled dark eyes. Arthur could only pray that Lancelot would not forsake his wishes – orders - and go after Merlin on his own. Again. Arthur was aware of his friend Malcus’ entrance and the small chatter between the prisoner and the Captain. But emerald eyes remained focused on the lean warrior at his side….even as Lancelot addressed the Woad girl himself. In the brief moment before Malcus began to address Arthur directly, the Roman’s thoughts were still completely consumed with everything between he and Lancelot. Arthur silently cursed himself for the inappropriate and ill-timed reaction to the sight of Lancelot’s bare midsection that he had moments ago….that portion of our relationship has passed us by…much like a storm rolling over the peaks of the mountain ranges of the north.
At hearing Malcus’ voice speaking his name, Arthur’s gaze turned from Lancelot to regard the petite Woad girl who had attempted to slit his throat only yesterday. Emerald eyes flickered over her appearance as Malcus made his recommendations on her attire. Arthur’s full lips twisted upwards as he made his own assessment of her; lifting one hand to rub two fingers over his stubbled chin while still gently pressing his other hand over his stitches. The wound throbbed perhaps in a not so gentle reminder that this very Woad had ripped her claws into it only yesterday.
Arthur ignored Lancelot’s comments and animated gestures as he himself took a step closer to the girl. She was dressed in typical Woad fashion, although her clothing was soiled and she was lacking a cloak for warmth against the harsh winter weather. Arthur was not a cruel man and would, of course, see to it that the girl had something more substantial to wear before she was taken out of the fortress.
Her meek voice drew Arthur’s gaze from her poor dress upwards to her seemingly beseeching expression. Did she fear Arthur? Would she still honour their agreement? But before the Commander could inquire, Lancelot interjected his own thinly veiled threat.
“Do you recall the agreement between us? Hm?” Arthur asked with a slight tilt of his head and deceptively placid emerald eyes. He felt no need to resort to intimidation with this one…at least not now considering her defeated expression and almost frightened demeanor. But the Commander would not lower his guard….this girl was still a Woad and thus may still carry an agenda….perhaps she was an assassin sent by Merlin…if so, what purpose would the Woad leader have in Arthur’s death? “I have spared your life and thus kept my part of the bargain,” Arthur added as he closed the distance between them and crossed his arms over his broad chest as he looked down into her dark eyes. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 22 2010, 09:49 PM Post #219 |
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Author: golden_trillium Date: Mon May 19, 2008 9:58 am Linnette
"But...you don't want to put down your things?" Linnette hesitated in mid-stride, one hand making a half-formed quizzical gesture back towards Drake's new room. Why would he carry his bags- which looked quite heavy- all the way to the tavern when their destination was just back around that corner? She couldn't think of a single reason- but Drake was making no sign of intent to backtrack. Utterly confused, but not wanting to press the issue- did it have something to do with the contents of the bags, maybe? something valuable?- Linnette settled for a puzzled shrug and a grimace that tried to approximate a reassuring smile, and kept walking. "Er...old?" she repeated the word from his last question, reorienting herself to that earlier topic after the small interruption. It was a bit awkward to talk to him as they walked- Drake stayed determinedly a generous half-pace behind her, and she had to twist around a bit to feel like she was really addressing him. And he maintained that spacing even when she experimentally slowed down just a little bit. Odd...and quite a contrast from Gedeon, who had had such long legs and took such long strides that initially, when they walked together, she had had to nearly run to keep up with him. Though after one slightly annoying incident, after they had returned from the Villa but before their marriage, when she had told him off for all but leaving her in the dust, he had been very embarrassed, and apologetic, and had always consciously slowed his pace afterward. Well, actually, on that particular occasion, after profuse apologies, he had swung her up and carried her the rest of the way to the tavern, grinning at her and then depositing her on the doorstep with a chaste and rather shy kiss, as if he was not sure yet that what he had done made up adequately for the offense. Sweet man...even though she had been annoyed with him at the time. Maybe she shouldn't have been. Tears just misted her eyes again, and she turned her face back to the front, a little bit glad now that Drake was behind her like that. "I don't know...forty?" She shrugged, a bit impatient with herself, trying to get her thoughts back on track. "I suppose it depends on the person," she added, not satisfied with that pat number either. Her father had been, what...forty three when he died? And he had seemed old. But Linnette had also seen men of fifty who did not- like the blacksmith back at her village, who had seemed the same on her last visit as he had when she was a child, except for more gray in his hair. Drake was more like that, she thought; would Gedeon have been the same? There was no way of knowing. "Just a moment- my cloak," Linnette mumurred, stepping aside as they were about to pass her room and pushing open the door. She left it open while she went inside to get her cloak from where she had hung it to dry over a chair- it was still damp, though dryer than it had been, and it would do. As she swung it around her shoulders, she looked around the room with another sigh- so much to do! And Gedeon's saddle bags, still sitting on the bed among the rumpled blankets, testimony to her broken sleep of last night- she blinked and turned away from them, once again not wanting to give in to emotion and cry. She had too much to do. "Ready," she added, crossing back to the hallway and shutting the door softly behind her- maybe the last time she would shut that particular door on her own and Gedeon's room. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 22 2010, 09:50 PM Post #220 |
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Author: Starbelle Date: Mon May 19, 2008 10:08 am Tatiana
Hearing him ask her his question, a soft blush appeared on Tatiana's face, but she met his deep blue eyes with her still dark green ones. "Yes, Brendyn. I do love you." She replied honestly, but happily to his question, her eyes sparkling in response to her feelings in reply to his question. Feeling his fingers run through her long coppery hair sent small shivers as well as a million butterflies running through her lithe frame, causing her eyes to change color again, but to a foresty green this time. After all, an honest question deserves an honest answer, especially where feelings are concerned. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 22 2010, 09:51 PM Post #221 |
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Author: golden_trillium Date: Mon May 19, 2008 10:13 am Centurion Quintus All looked well down in the dungeons today. Of course, the fact that the two Woad prisoners had been gone for most of the morning probably contributed to that. They had been taken to the infirmary early for treatment and had thus far not been returned, and rumors were flying that the older one, the one captured on the road, had offered treachery and was going to lead Commander Castus to Merlin himself. There were more fanciful versions of the rumor being bandied about as well, of course- such as the tale that the Woad had agreed to such a course of action because she harbored a secret, or not-so-secret, passion for the Sarmatian scout, Tristan. Well, that one was nonsense, and Quintus had sternly told off the first man to mention it in his hearing. But nothing stopped men from talking, and stories still flew. But anyway, with the Woads absent from the dungeons, things were pretty quiet down here today. Quintus had just finished up a routine inspection of the premises, and was heading out the heavy, iron-bound entrance door, when he spotted Titrus coming towards him from across the courtyard- with the little Woad, the child, under his arm and wrapped in his cloak. The older one was nowhere in evidence, but obviously this little one was going back to the cells. Quintus paused, just inside the doorway with the door held open, ready to assist Titrus if he should need it- though fortunately, if surprisingly, the girl seemed to be coming along quietly enough. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 22 2010, 09:53 PM Post #222 |
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Author: Unicorn Date: Mon May 19, 2008 10:29 am Dagonet Bors moved from Dagonet's bed and sat on the cot beside. It was obvious that the leg injury was really bothering him. And as Dagonet reached for his friend's hand he saw disapprove in Bors's eyes and face. The man was not emotional and Dagonet knew it. They barely allowed themselfs to be emotional with each other. Specially around others... But today was a different day... But now was different. Dagonet was always playing strong before everybody. He was their rock in every situation. Even if wounded the tall knight was strong for others, like before.... before the mission, when he was injured from the Woad attack. Back then, Dagonet was still strong in front of others. But now... He lost his strenghts. He was weak and his wounds were heavy... Wounds in his body and in his heart. He did not care to be strong right now. He was broken and Bors knew it... Gedeon's death broke Dagonet beyond any limits. He must learn to regain his strenghts once more. He fought with death while returning to Badon... it was Bors to steady him and help him to get back home... Helped him to fight with the fever and delirious.... Bors helped Dagonet come back to the realm of living when the wounded knight wanted to slip away and die. He was a broken man and he hoped Bors will not hold no grudge for his moment of weakness and emotions. And then it came....
Dagonet looked at Lavinia, the chief healer and boss of the infirmary as she stood on the foot of his bed. Derfel already stood up from the bed, scared of the woman it would seem. Dagonet mouth twitch slightly. Lavinia was stern, but she helped every knight around more than one time. Party? It might seem so... as the two knights were chating with Dagonet and speaking pretty loud probably. He needed rest... but maybe not quiet... Silence made him think about Gedeon. His prive nurse... Saoirse. There was sentence which Dagonet did not understand. Saoirse becoming a helaer? He slowly only shook his head, not knowing what else to say or do. He didn't know where Saoirse was... and he wished she was beside him. He felt even more broken without her.
Bors started to explain himself to Lavinia and Dagonet looked at leaving Derfel sending him a glance of thanks. Then he looked back at Lavinia and saw corners of her mouth twitch at Bors's hesitance in voice. Dagonet knew Lavinia, maybe not well but it would seem that she was was the only one capable of running this place. Dagonet slowly allowed himself to close his eyes for a brief moment before looking back at Bors and Lavinia. He was tired and pain was grasping his side thightly... but he felt tons of better than yesterday, when all he could was sleep. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 22 2010, 09:57 PM Post #223 |
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Author: Pinkie Date: Mon May 19, 2008 12:28 pm Catherine Once or twice Catherine had been in the unfortunate situation where a man had become aggressive with her. She hated it passionately, but unfortunately that was what some men wanted - and Catherine gave men what they wanted. That was the deal. They both understood it so there was no point in denying their wants. However, when Gawain gripped her elbow the way he did, trawling her off in another direction, Catherine felt that familiar flip of her stomach, the one that made her feel ill when she realised what she had gotten herself in for. She had not thought that that was what Gawain would want from her. The blonde's lips parted and she staggered a step after Gawain, quickly finding her feet as he pulled her in under the shelter of a doorway. The whore cleared her throat quietly, one hand raised to shoulder level with a twist of blonde hair about teh slender digit, twisted tight, held tight there by the press of her thumb as her worried green eyes lifted to Gawain's face. He looked annoyed.
Catherine took a breath to answer the Knight's question but no words formed. She didn't know how to answer his question. She wasn't sure if she should answer it as honestly as it sounded in her head. I want you not to hate me for being a whore.. ? I want you to not think of me as a dirty prostitute who is trying to swindle your meagre coins? The woman bit her bottom lip, frowning, looking down as he turned the coin over in his thick fingers. She was momentarily distracted by the inevitable dirt beneath his fingernails, one eye twitching just once before she had calmed herself. She tossed her head and was about to speak, was about to dismiss his question, to tell him she wanted nothing, when he spoke up instead.
And quite unexpectedly he was laughing. Catherine found herself grinning in response to his laughter, relieved that he was not angry with her any longer. She really was rather juvenile in her emotions and feelings - she did not like people to be angry or disappointed in her. But he seemed to like the gift she had given to him, even to the point of asking her what they were. The woman breathed a laugh of her own, eyebrows lifting as she stood on her tippy toes to point at the coin with a beautiful, clean fingernail. "This is a ... " she paused, frowning but still with her lips curved in a magnificent smile. HEr hood was disrupted by a blow of wind, sending a few more stray tendrils of blonde forward, across her pretty face. "It's an ... alaphant? Elephant... something like that. They use them in the East like we use horses. Can you imagine... ? And that .. " her finger gently slid along the surface of the coin to the other creature and then fell down to her side. "That's a leopard. It's a cat but it's bigger, it's the size of a large dog." the whore mused with a shake of her head. She gave another laugh, abashed this time, looking down at her feet. The laughter died off and she sighed, looking up through her eyelashes at the Knight. "I should be somewhere else right now. But I wanted you to have this first. Keep it?" she asked in her characteristic, airy tone, her soft fingers touching Gawain's fingertips to try close them over the coin. She wanted to tell him that he wuold one day see these things, for his words of dying earlier still lingered in her mind uncomfortably, but it seemed silly for a woman such as she to offer consolation like that. So she just smiled, taking a step back with a hopeful lift to her eyebrows. Kolya
Kolya wasn't completely ignorant to her odd behaviour. He fancied her knew her long enough to know that underneath the calm exterior she was secretly bubbling. Of course he knew she wasn't serious about listening at the door, but she did manage to deflect his question without getting in a strop and refusing to answer it or bopping him on the head and telling him it was none of his business like he had been expecting. The Sarmatian knew that when she had been fucking her little boyfriend that she had been thinking of him. She must have done, at least a flicker of a memory of what had happened between them in the baths. Of course, Kolya just assumed that that is what they had been doing all this time cooped up in the room together! At her accusation of following the former knight snorted and shook his head. He lifted a hand to scratch his jaw and glanced sideways at her, catching a hint of what she was trying to hide when she ducked her head with a smile. Kolya's eyebrows lifted and he pointed a finger towards her. "You'd kinda like that, wouldn't you? You'd like it so when your boy finds out you'll have me to fall back on... ?" he said with a teasing smile, chuckling deeply to himself as he shook his head, looking ahead again. "Was it a bit annoying when he was touching you and you kept wondering why it didn't feel like me? I'm just curious..." he said with the most humbled, innocent look on his rugged face, hands raised in supplication. Romanus Romanus had been watching this guy for quite some time now. He ached all over and his eyes wanted to shut for sleep so much, but this was just too interesting a scenario to pass up. He pursed his lips, cocking his head to the side and elbowed the guard standing beside him. "... the hell?" he queried, gesturing to the rider who came into view a while ago. It was strange considering her had passed through Woad territory and was seemingly unharmed. That made a bit of a blaring warning noise in Romanus' head. He hefted his shield into his hand and went down the steps to the gate where he snapped back the little peep-hole box to peer at the man who was atop the horse waiting to come in. "What's your name and your purpose here, Sir?" Romanus asked in his best official tone of voice, the one he had been practising because apparently he was much too friendly and companionable to all who came to the gates of Badon. And, seemingly, this was a bad thing. How was it his fault his mother had raised him to believe every stranger was a friend you hadn't met? Drake
Drake just looked at her when she asked him that. He had no answer to it. Genuinely. There was no response to her question, no reasonable explanation as to why he was going along with her to the tavern with his heavy saddlebags instead of going to his room and meeting her over there. He didn't think she would come to any harm between here and there without him. He didn't think she would suddenly fall over into a trough due to grief and drown herself accidentally. He didn't think he would need anything out of his saddlebags once in the tavern but ... he was not going to forgo this opportunity to walk with her. He was greatful when she shrugged and answered his earlier question.
Forty? Drake wasn't a huge distance off of that. He narrowed his green eyes at Linnette though not in anger at all, just idle curiosity. He gave a twitch of a smile to her declaration that it depended on the person. He cuoldn't argue with that. But then surely she should consider him old.. if she knew half of what he had done in his life, if she knew half of what he had experienced... They came towards her door and Linnette paused, going in for her cloak. Drake waited at the door, trying not to look into that private place she had shared with her husband but found it too irresistable. It was a neat room, warm, cozy, decorated sparsely but nicely... the saddlebags sitting on the bed was the last straw. Drake looked away politely, looking down at the ground as a deep furrow etched into his forehead. One man's entire life's possessions in one bag. The thought of Linnette carrying those bags anywhere, knowing the pain it would cause her to do so, made Drake's stomach tighten defensively.
She spoke quietly. Drake nodded and went into his habitual step behind her as they went out of the fortress and into the courtyard. The rain was still falling. Automatically the Spaniard looked towards Linnette to ensure she was not getting too wet and then hitched his own hood up, twitching the cloak about his arms as he dipped his head and moved through the muck towards the tavern. When they got closer he cleared his throat, frowning, again. "I can move the items from your room to the new one if it pleases you. I understand if it is something you would rather do yourself in your own time. Just ... " he pushed open teh door, coming up alongside her with two quick strides when they got to it, and held it open, looking at the top of the doorframe as she walked in. He sighed, flexed his fingers into his palm before giving her a small smile, tight, tense. "Just ask. For whatever." he said shortly, quietly, feeling awkward and a little stupid for interfering where she would probably rather he did not. He tensed his jaw visibly with a creek and then pointed to an empty table by the wall. "I'll be there." he said gruffly. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 22 2010, 09:59 PM Post #224 |
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Author: Unicorn Date: Mon May 19, 2008 12:55 pm Mirtha Mirtha felt uneasy... out of place. He had never cared for a women feelings before... never cared if he hurt anybody... only cared for his pleasure, for his needs. Right now he was here.. .with Ione, wondering and worrying if he had done something wrong. Had he hurt her? Mrtha saw her blush at his question. Gods! He did something wrong! He knew that it was she, who he had taken for his pleasure... but could not remember the details. He would hate himself to the end of his days that he had hurted such a fragile woman, just after he had rescued her from Woads attempting to rape her.
The stablemaster looked up at her as she moved closer and made him look into her eyes. Her words were like wash over... the heavyness in his chest fell. He had not hurt her! He attempted to smile but then she contiuned to tell him what happened. How she was afraid at first and he could almost not believe her words.... she gave up to him freely. He was glad it turned out to be like that... cause he was afraid that if he would be drunk he would take her by force. He oppened his mouth to speak but she came closer and kissed the side of his mouth. Mirtha closed his eyes allowing her to do so and himself to feel her touch more vivdly. He had not felt a woman kiss so close and so warm... for a long time... Thorn was the only one, who caught him off guard.... But in the same time this was a tragic thing to remember. Thorn was dead... burried... probably. What happened to her body? He was stupid to let himself drunk again! He should take care of everything!
Her voice brought him back and he oppened his eyes to look at her. He held her gaze for a moment before looking down at their connected hands. "Why?" he asked unsure and uneasy. "Why had you wanted my touches.... Ione? I should had never laid my hands on you when you were scared... I should not take what is not mine... " He let her hands and rised and spread them in gesture of helpnesness and sadness. Even so, being so close to her made him feel warm inside. Her soft eyes were on him and he could feel her breath upon his skin. "I don't control myself when I'm drunk... I don't remember everything. I remember only your face, your soft skin and your eyes glittering in the darkness" he spoke silently and put his hand on her cheek gently. "I remember my body aching for yours.... and I remember the intense of my pleasure. But I can't recall if we had spoken after or before... I can't remember how I felt and how you reacted. I don't remember from where I took next bottle... which I found beside me in the morning." He closed his eyes and leaned over.... Her calm and steady posture drew him closer... He placed a kiss upon her lips and frowned in surprise of his own doings. What the hell was he doing? He did not control it... It just happened. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 22 2010, 10:01 PM Post #225 |
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Author: golden_trillium Date: Mon May 19, 2008 1:28 pm Linnette
"All right." Linnette, her brow slightly furrowed, didn't have much more to say to that; she was just, once again, surprised and a little confused that he would wait for her. Or, since he had mentioned food as well, was that really what he meant to imply? Had he just meant 'while I'm eating, I'll be there, but not after that'? Once again, she was running up against the problem of not wishing to appear to be telling him what to do, while at the same time letting him know that this really wasn't necessary. She was fine- relatively- and surely he had other duties, right? "Er...I don't know how long this will take...it depends how much there is to do." She took an indecisive step backwards, in the direction of the bar and behind it, the kitchen entrance, gesturing over her shoulder. Should she say anything more? She honestly didn't know how to answer his offer to move her things- she didn't even know where they were going yet. Another second's hesitation- Drake's jaw had tensed up again, for some reason, she noted, and then she took another step back, gave another half-smile, and turned away towards the kitchen and beyond that, her office. The sooner she got this work out of the way, or at least saw how much of it there really was, the better. There were few patrons in the bar at this hour- besides Drake (and, just outside the outer door, Tristan perched on a bench, not looking at them when they passed), only a single cluster of men at one table, craftsmen from the village, engaged in what seemed to be a relatively serious discussion. Vanora was up by the bar, tidying up the place, and Linnette took a deep breath, readying herself to pass the other woman and, most likely, recieve her sympathies, which, judging by previous encounters, were the most likely thing there was to make tears come to the surface. |
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