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| May 2008 | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Mar 18 2010, 02:23 AM (3,625 Views) | |
| golden_trillium | Mar 22 2010, 10:32 PM Post #241 |
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Author: lady ione Date: Tue May 20, 2008 8:27 pm Vanora Vanora smiled as the man slung the saddle bag down to the floor. The least Drake was willing to have a good meal before he went on his duties for the day. Not that the tavern had a whole lot, but she was sure she could find something or other...
Well, it wasn't the happiest voice she had ever heard, and her eyes watched him as he went over to the table where he had left his saddle bag, and sort of slumped down as he made his way back to the bench where he sat down as though resigned to stay for a bit. Vanora's eyebrow raised as she looked at Linnette who let out a sigh, and it was not until Vanora felt Linnette's hand on her elbow when she noticed the other one was wrapped up. Gedeon would be missed greatly, and it was odd not seeing him here with Linnette. Vanora looked back up at the young woman, then at Drake who was waiting patiently for his food. What had happened to the young woman's hand? Vanora felt Linnette guide her with her so that they could talk she supposed...
The red head frowned as Linnette sniffled, and remembered what Bors had told her about Gedeon. The poor thing! Vanora could not imagine her life without Bors, though sometimes he was a pain in the rear, he still loved her and she him. 'Very well, dear. I will have cook make you something when you are ready to eat, but Drake looks a bit hungry right now...men always are...just don't you forget to eat, okay?' Vanora kept her voice low so the conversation could just be between them. Just as they reached the kitchen door, she saw Linnette take out a small pouch, take out a coin and placed it in Vanora's hand, folding her fingers over the coin...
Vanora nodded at Linnette's request. She figured there had to be another amphorae of wine in the cellar where it could be kept cool. Before Vanora could say anything else, Linnette looked down at the floor in sadness, dropped her hand that now held the coin, and disappeared across the kitchen and toward her office. Vanora stood there for a moment and looked down at the coin in her now opened hand, then ordered the cook to make the best breakfast he could while she went to get the wine from the cellar.... Moments later, she came back up with a nice cold amphorae of wine and poured Drake a good mug full of the fluid just as the cook dished up the breakfast of a slab of meat, eggs, fresh bread and fruit. Nodding to the cook, Vanora went back up front, moved through the tavern to where Drake waited, and placed the food and drink in front of the glum looking man. "Here ya go, Drake," Vanora offered a smile. Wiping her hands on her apron, she looked at the man, and asked softly, 'Drake, what happened to Linnette's hand?" She decided to start with an icebreaker, and if he wanted to talk, he could do so. But the way he looked, Vanora felt it best that she not push the matter unless the need arose. "Is there anything I and Bors can do?" She wanted also to make it a point of talking with Linnette once she was done talking to Drake. Linnette was going through a hard time, and Vanora wanted to help in anyway, she or Bors could.... |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 22 2010, 10:33 PM Post #242 |
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Author: linnet Date: Tue May 20, 2008 8:48 pm Gawain Catherine’s reaction to Gawain’s request to let the coin remind her to tell him more, had the knight baffled. She blushed. He had no idea why, but the soft pink that rose to her cheeks pleased him. He doubted that even the most skilled actor would be able to blush by force of will. She was letting him see her bright natural self. It was captivating and strangely enough, somehow innocent. He couldn’t help but smile even though he felt that she was a bit baffled by him as well. At least it seemed he had convinced her that she needn’t be afraid of him.
Gawain saw no sign of the tempting whore in Catherine now, and didn’t even realize that her talk of ‘gifts’ could refer to her whoring. It was only when she rolled her eyes in embarrassed self-mockery that he understood and laughed lightly at her exaggerated expression. He couldn’t imagine why she would want to give him a gift, and was relieved that she'd taken the coin back. He’d never be able to accept something so valuable from her, but he’d deal with that if the time came later. For the moment, he wanted to do nothing that might spoil her mood.
Gawain just studied her a moment, cocking his head to one side and scratching at his untidy wet hair. “Maybe so,” he finally said with just a trace of teasing in his voice and eyes. “But that’s far from being a bad thing.” And then she did something totally unexpected. She curtsied and bowed her head gracefully. Again he was confounded. No woman had ever done that. It was a gesture of respect, reserved for the important. He looked at her with a puzzled smile, thinking that indeed she was wonderfully strange. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 22 2010, 10:35 PM Post #243 |
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Author: lady ione Date: Tue May 20, 2008 9:00 pm Brendyn With a heavy sigh, Brendyn began plotting in his mind how he could get out of this infirmary for even though Evana had taken good care of him, he was not use to all of the coddling and such. As much as he liked Tatiana's attentions on him, he felt himself becoming tense. Brendyn liked her, and loved her as a friend....it was far too soon for a relationship, and besides what if he died in battle leaving her alone and...with child. He was young and wanted to explore other facets of "life" as well as his duties at this new fort. Tatiana was the first friend he had made besides Gawain, Galahad, Derfel and the rest which he had met after the battle...Quintus, Titrus and Malcus. Arthur. those were the men who he felt would shape his training and ways of thinking here...shape him into the type of soldier any Commander would be proud of. Brendyn was glad he had made such good friends. All of them unique in their own way, though he could not forget his friends...
Brendyn gave her a smile, "Well, horse smell or not, I still think you are pretty." He sighed and left his fingers play with the blanket. His friends...morning prayer? He wondered if he had missed it, though most were given at dawn, and at the setting of the sun...but then the God he knew was never picky as to when one could pray. "We'll have to see what kind of mood I am in when I get off duty. As it is, I think I would like to make up the time on duty that I spent in here...I don't like to be confined to a bed when there is work to be done." Brendyn sighed impatiently feeling totally useless right now...and restless. He worried about what was going on with the woad prisoners and just what was going on in general... But he had to rest.
Brendyn beamed at Evana, "100% better thanks to this remarkable nun...She did better than most." He left go of Tatiana's hand , and smiled while the plot began to form...that nasty nun...if I am alright, she could not possibly want me any in here taking up bed space...perfect! now all I have to do is get her attention...She, I am sure hates me enough to want to rid my presence from her.... |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 22 2010, 10:38 PM Post #244 |
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Author: sabor ice Date: Tue May 20, 2008 10:54 pm Cáel
Who? Oh, Gabriel! He was Gabriel. Cáel gave an amused snort at his own absentmindedness. "Eburacum - indeed. A great city of prospect," Cáel certified enthusiastically. He stroked his chin quizzically then, his brow furrowing in thought. "Woads, you say?" The man plucked through his memory, trying to recollect everything Gabriel had ever told him about his homeland. He had spoken of these Woad creatures to Cáel before. Blue-painted demons of sorts...they lived in the trees...OH, OF COURSE! It all made sense now. "Oh, of course. The Woads," Cáel said, with a serious nod. He folded his hands in front of him, palms against the saddle, and shrugged sheepishly. "Pure luck - I'm sure, friend."
The guard closed the peep-hole, but Cáel just shifted back comfortably into his saddle and waited patiently. Soon, the gate creaked and groaned open, the soldier slipping outside. The Goth smirked confidently and deftly dismounted Betelgeuse, giving the steed a companionable pat to the neck as he met Romanus face-to-face. He was young, but boyishly handsome. There was a naivety about him, an innocence almost, and his large doe brown eyes were sure to bowl young ladies over left and right. Perhaps young lads, as well - Cáel was undecided as to which Romanus preferred. At any rate, this was all but too easy. Gaining access to Badon was like taking candy from a baby. No wonder they had been attacked, with soldiers like Romanus on duty, the Goth internally mused. "You like pretty things, do you, lad?" Cáel wondered, with a crooked smile and turned to rummage through one of his saddle bags. He hadn't brought much with him from Eburacum, but he had brought few lovely trinkets back, for this specific reason. Cáel retrieved a cloth wrap and unfolded it, revealing a smashing ring with Celtic markings about the band. "What do you think of this then?" Alina
What? No, no! She didn't want him - she had to believe that. There would be no hope for her and Galahad otherwise. She couldn't want both of them because she couldn't keep both of them. It just didn't work that way. How could anyone try to love another when it was someone they had to share? She felt Kolya's hand on her elbow, and struggled to free herself, even as he whipped her around to face him. Her palms went to his chest to push herself away, but he slipped an arm around her waist and effortlessly molded her body to his. She lifted her chin defiantly, the internal struggle she possessed evident in her dark eyes. Alina continued to writhe in opposition as he pulled her off her feet, suspending her against him in his forceful embrace and thoughtlessly crushed his lips to hers. Her efforts were futile - she was like a rag doll in the jaws of a wolf. Finally he released his hold on her, and her feet sunk into the mucky ground, mud and grime splashing onto her dress. She tugged to get away, but his arm was still around her tiny waist. She huffed out an aggravated sigh, halting her fruitless struggling. Her wavy locks painted damp waves around her face and neck as her baleful gaze lifted to meet his. "You think you just know everything, Kolya. You don't know everything! Not every woman swoons at your feet! Not every woman wants to be with you!" she exclaimed, balled fists hammering twice against his broad chest. Alina would rather be damned than to admit to him in that moment that just maybe he was right. He was no good for her. "You can't just kiss me as you please and expect that it'll make everything better! It doesn't work that way!" Ash The whole cat-and-mouse bit was starting to get really, really old. Ash was astounded at how effortlessly he had kept his impatience under wraps - up until now, that was. Now, he just wanted to kill someone - preferably the soldier that had been holding Eala captive - and get the hell out. He trailed them from a distance, playing the gloominess of the day to his advantage, stealthily stalking them like a predator on the prowl. At one point the soldier halted and glanced around suspiciously, causing Ash to sink into full shadow and wait. There was a boy nearby, speculating, and Ash nearly had the urge to go over and gut him just for looking in Eala's direction. But, there wasn't time, and Ash reluctantly left him alone to follow the other two. It didn't take the Woad long to realize where the soldier was taking her - to the Roman dungeons he had heard Guinevere talk about before - a vile, wicked place where most prisoners never emerged from again alive. This was it. He was out of time. He had to get Eala out of there and soon - her life depended on it, and probably his, too. Ash huffed out a pitiful sound, his eyes reluctant, sorrowful, as he watched his comrade being taken into custody. The soldier who had brought her was leaving now. Ash hid behind a barrel, his eyes filled with untapped rage, his body seething with the thought of vengeance. As soon as it was safe, Ash began to make his way in the direction of the side gate. He had made the decision to allow Guinevere and the others to deal with Neeria - he had no idea where she had been taken now anyway. His heart was in taking back Eala. Neeria was by no means expendable, but to him, Eala's life was more important - she had more to live for. Noon. The timing was nearly perfect. The guards atop the wall would be weary, nigh alert. Soon they be relieved of duty, so Ash knew he had to act quickly. He went to the side gate, crouching among the debris before it as his dark gaze scrutinized the soldiers' movements above. They seemed to be in deep conversation - or argument - giving Ash the distraction he needed to get the gate ajar. He wedged himself between the small opening, his eyes scanning the trees for any sign of the others. Hunkering down, Ash slipped his knife from his boot, extending his arm and angling the blade until it caught a glimmer of sunlight through a break in the clouds. After a few minutes, he pulled back, disappearing back inside again. The signal had been cast. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 22 2010, 10:39 PM Post #245 |
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Author: SarmatianKnight Date: Wed May 21, 2008 3:41 am Lucius His question was answered with a sniffing sound at first and a not amused question in return then. Well, what had he expected? Fool, he called himself in his thoughts and he regretted his chosen words to open the conversation. The young woman was crying and obviously she needed everything but a him who meant to be funny or something like this. Ignoring him followed for a moment before she lifted her head and looked at him. Somewhere, well hidden behind tears and hurt, he could see the gourgeousness.
Lucius squeezed his eyes slightly and leaned forward to come closer because he had difficulties to understand her. He was not sure if it was her accent or the fact that she was more muttering and sniffling than really talking. For a long time Lucius had been used to nothing else than properly pronounced Latin. He had learned during the last years to make his way through several accents. He sat down next to the red head and leaned back against the wall. He looked more or less relaxed and the moment of silence stretched between them. For two reasons: first, he tried to think about an answer that would not turn him into a fool again, and second, with this she would have the chance to gain her composure. "I can always go back and tel them that I did not find you." And he would do it if she was not ready to leave the little room already. He hated to see women cry. A crying woman could have everything from him. His younger sister had always taken advantage of this fact. He turned his head to look at Saoirse, watching her intently. "Are you alright?" |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 22 2010, 10:42 PM Post #246 |
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Author: Elessars Girl Date: Wed May 21, 2008 6:02 am Noon Arthur Arthur had ignored the brief flirtatious banter between this scrap of a girl and Lancelot. He had even overlooked the blade in his First Knight’s hand as Lancelot continued with what appeared to be his own form of crude intimidation. Arthur had to in order to keep anger out of his voice and annoyance out of his expression. Yet perhaps Arthur should allow Lancelot to discuss the matter at hand since the girl was obviously quite receptive to the dark knight’s ‘charms’ which in itself seemed odd considering why she was here and what they were here to discuss. Arthur inwardly rolled his eyes in regards to Lancelot’s behavior despite his stoic outward appearance while regarding the young Woad’s reaction to her surroundings. This was not a brothel or a casual gathering where such frivolous behavior would be expected so her reaction to Lancelot was curious indeed. Yet nothing about this situation was ‘normal’. Typically, the Commander did not hold meetings such as this in his own private quarters…but under the circumstances Arthur had been forced to this morning. And then the young woman finally seemed to focus on the Commander rather than his ‘charming’ First Knight and answered Arthur’s question. And much to her credit, she seemed able to meet and hold his unflinching gaze.
Tristan? Arthur’s eyebrows slightly rose up in surprise at hearing her request. His gaze then briefly flickered to Malcus; silently questioning his friend on how and when this young Woad would have had the opportunity to ‘know’ one of Arthur’s knights. And then Arthur’s green eyes met Lancelot’s equally surprised expression. So this girl had managed to get their attention…..Arthur narrowed curious green eyes at her as Lancelot interjected.
Arthur allowed Lancelot his voice for the moment while the Commander continued to carefully study his ‘captive’. She was not unlike Guinevere really, only not as tall in stature and her expressions were more easily read than Merlin’s eldest daughter. This one appeared to be surprised? by Arthur’s appearance and the fact that he had summoned her here to speak with her personally. He had also caught a hint of apprehension in her voice as she’d made her rather eloquently spoken request. Arthur remained silent for a moment longer; arms still crossed over his chest and intense gaze fixed on the girl’s dark eyes. He pursed his lips for a moment as if he might be still merely considering her request; the only sounds in the room were that of the flames crackling in the hearth and the soft patter of rain as the drops fell on the stone ledge of the open window. “What is your name?” Arthur finally said while slightly tilting his head and allowing his expression to soften if only for the girl’s benefit. The Commander had not Lancelot’s charm with the female sex, however he refused to purposely treat any woman harshly….even this one who had attempted to take his life only yesterday. And if she had been successful…Arthur would have forgiven her as it would have been God’s will and certainly the Roman had accepted his destiny long ago. “I will agree to allow Tristan to accompany you if you will indulge me as to why you have chosen him?” Arthur continued with no hint of malice in his voice. He honestly wanted to understand why she had requested the scout or if he could discover her true purpose in making such a request. Why trust only Tristan? Had Arthur not been the merciful one? He knew Tristan well enough to guess that the scout had not gone out of his way to show kindness to a Woad. Arthur’s side twinged again…this time with a little more urgency. He discreetly pressed a hand over the stitches hidden below his black linen tunic and silently begged God for a little more time. And God answered the Roman’s prayers by allowing the man to remain on his feet in spite of the nearly overpowering urge to collapse into the nearest chair or with a little fortune…onto the bed. Arthur slowly exhaled and attempted to continue his masquerade of strength and leadership despite his weakened physical state. This was an urgent matter and Arthur would see to it that this girl would indeed keep her part of their bargain….and lead his officers to Merlin. The attacks had to be averted at all costs…including Arthur’s health. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 22 2010, 10:43 PM Post #247 |
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Author: Eledhwen Date: Wed May 21, 2008 6:06 am Bors
Bors did as he was told, throwing Dagonet a 'women ' look as he did so, but actually more than a little wary of this fierce, obviously skilled healer. As she proceeded to strip the cloth from his legs he began to protest, trying to bat her hand away, but she took no notice, and anyway he daren't move too much in case she stuck the knife in his leg. He grimaced at the thought.
Bors sniffed, and sighed dramatically. He could just imagine what Vanora would have to say about yet again having to stitch up his clothes, and he knew damn well it wouldn't be this woman who would take the brunt of her anger.
As she sashayed away, Bors once more looked across at the bed which held his lifelong friend. "Blimey, I fink I'd rather take on a hoard of Woads than 'er," he grinned, trying to make light of a bad situation. He wanted to ask Dag how he really was, and how Saoirse was, and how they were going to get over this, but now was not the time and here was not the place. When they were both back on their feet and getting good and drunk in the tavern, that would be the place for such emotions, not here. Lavinia came bustling back, and Bors brightened at the sight of good alcohol.
Taking the bottle gladly he swigged the whole thing down in two gulps before realizing just how strong it was. He coughed, and spluttered, and wiped the back of his hand across his mouth before squinting up at the healer. "Bloody Hell woman, you tryin' to poison me?" he demanded, throwing the bottle to one side on the bed. "There, s'gone, now do your worst." He knew what was coming, he had been through similar plenty of times, and grabbed hold of the sides of the cot. His head began to swim, and he lay it back on the pillow gratefully, closing his eyes. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 22 2010, 10:45 PM Post #248 |
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Author: golden_trillium Date: Wed May 21, 2008 6:45 am Centurion Quintus
"Eh...she's a wild one," Quintus grunted, pulling the small girl towards him again, holding her much, much tighter this time. He had underestimated her the first time, truth be told, and she had almost gotten away from him, but the Centurion wasn't about to make the same mistake twice. This time he wrapped his arms around her, pinioning her arms to her sides, and picked her up bodily, facing away from him so that she couldn't bite. Out of the corner of his eye, he noted in passing that the lad who had been watching was gone- probably scared off by his and the Lieutentant's notice. "There now- just relax and it'll go better for you, kid," Quintus mumbled, as he hoisted the girl through the outer dungeon door and past the first guard post. A quick nod brought the guard there scurrying in front of him, readying his keys to open one of the cells. Titrus had said that the girl couldn't hear- but Quintus spoke to her anyway, out of habit. The Centurion jerked his head towards the nearest unoccupied cell- right next to the guard post and right across from the one that the older Woad prisoner had occupied last night. Give her one of the better ones, Titrus had said, and food and water. Quintus didn't understand the reason for all of that- it didn't seem to him like a little deaf girl would be of any use, and they should either kill her or just let her go- but no matter. Orders were orders. "There you go...have a rest, now," he grunted, hauling the girl- she was thin as a twig, but her lack of cooperation made her seem heavier- into the cell and setting her down on the straw. He put her down quickly, not quite dropping her, but almost, and backed away warily, one arm out defensively and one of the hilt of his dagger, should she spring forward and attack again. "Livius! Get her food and water," he snapped over his shoulder at the guard behind him, as he backed another step towards the door. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 22 2010, 10:47 PM Post #249 |
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Author: Unicorn Date: Wed May 21, 2008 1:09 pm Dagonet Well, Lavinia surely was not the one for listening any more banter... she always got straight to business. With her sweet, own way.
Dagonet shrugged his shoulders slightly at the look of Bors's face and roll of his eyes. The whole situation seemed so amusing! Bors was just trying to protest while Lavinia cut trough his pants without even looking at the man.
The tall knight watched and listened to this with slight amusment... Vanora wouldn't be angry at Lavinia taking care of her lovers wound, as long as it would be nothing sexual about it. Bors would not admitt it but Vanora was strongly holding him in her grasp. His friend called her mostly ball of fire, or something like that. Well she was pretty similar to Dagonet's Saoirse. Better not to anger any of them. Dagonet almost smirked at Lavinia's words. Almost... There was so many pain in him that it was not queit possible to even smile right now.
Dagonet nodded his head in silence as the healer went for the needed things. Well... Bors was not going anywhere! His friend knew better to stay and let the woman fix him before the infection spread. In normal case it would be Dagonet to take his friend somewhere else than infirmary and do the 'healer work' there, without any curious eyes around. Gods! How he hated infirmaries? And again we was made to stay here... To be in pain before everybody's eyes. How he wished to just bury himself somewhere away and just cry in helpnessness and sandess... to pray... to mourn his son... To stop playing strong. To stop being strong for others and find his own way to strenght... to stand up from ashes he was laying in right now. He wanted to speak with Bors more privately... tell him what was really going on... Ask of his opinion... Drink some ale with his friend... Share some laugh if it would be possible.... Dagonet just wanted to be himself... and right now he was exposed to everybody, hurted and still trying to play it strong. How he hated infirmary?
Bors's voice broke trough his thoughts and Dagonet looked back at his friend, as he offered him a wide grinn and a comment, which normaly would make Dagonet smile and look away. This time corners of Dagonet's mouth twitched and he looked into Bors eyes for a longer time before nodding his head. He knew Bors would like also to talk to him... to offer his help and gruff opinions over the situation. Gruff but wise and steady... Dagonet always could get help from him.... This time... they both were not in the perfect time and place. They should be at the tavern sharing drinks at the bar, talking in silence, their conversation spoken in Sarmatian, only for their own ears.
Lavinia came back and annonced her return by handing over bottle to Bors. Dagonet frowned slightly as Bors took full sip of it and winced at the taste of the liquid. It had to be very strong.
Strong, but effective it would seem... as Bors grasped the side of the cot and his head went to the pillows... Dagonet also saw his friend's eyes close. Bors knew the rutine of tending to those wounds. The bottle, which Bors dropped rolled under Dagonet's bed. The tall knight observed Lavinia as she started to work. "Is the wound bad?" he asked her as he could not see it from his angle. He wanted to know what was causing Bors so much pain. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 22 2010, 10:49 PM Post #250 |
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Author: Kay Date: Wed May 21, 2008 2:53 pm Grace It had been a long morning for Grace; she was damp, cold, hungry and extremely fed up. She had sold a few items from the stall, but that did not compensate for the morning's events. Her encounter with the bedraggled man was still jangling her nerves. Now, at last, she saw the welcome face of her sister, Caroline, as the girl made her way across the little market, to their stall. "How is Mother?" Grace asked at once, as soon as Caroline reached her. "She's fine" Caroline replied. "She ate some lunch and is having a rest. I said you'd be home soon" Grace nodded and vacated her place behind the stall, eager to retreat to the safety of home. "Are you alright, Grace?" Caroline asked. "You look a bit pale" Grace wasn't sure if she wanted to relate what had happened, to her sister just yet. "I'm fine" she muttered. "Just cold, is all. I've made a few sales; it's been slow this morning" "Don't change the subject" Caroline admonished. "I know you; something has happened, hasn't it?" "I had a bit of a fright, that's all. It's this man; a horrid beast with long, straggly blond hair. He nearly ran me down with his horse yesterday. He turned up here this morning wanting something for a headache. He was quite threatening in his manner. I really didn't like him" "Oh" Caroline said, knowing full well her sister's mistrust of anything male. "He didn't touch you did he?" "No!" Grace replied. "He said he knew me from somewhere; he was looking me up and down. I didn't like it at all" "Perhaps he liked what he saw" Caroline said, with a laugh. "Don't even think that!" Grace cried with a look of horror. She shook her head as if trying to rid herself of the image of the man. She turned away quickly. "I must get back to Mother" she said in a rush and, picking up her skirts, scuttled away toward home. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 22 2010, 10:50 PM Post #251 |
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Author: Starbelle Date: Wed May 21, 2008 5:43 pm Tatiana
"Thank you for the compliment, Bren." Tatiana replied shyly lowering her eyes to briefly look at him through her lashes. Raising them again, she nodded knowingly as a mental picture of her brother appeared in her mind. "I know just how you must feel. My brother, Pellenorr, was the same way when he was sick"
Seeing a sneaky grin appear on his face and feeling him release her hand, she knew that he was up to something, as she'd seen that similar look on her brother's face a million times just before he pulled a prank on someone. "Brendyn? What are you thinking about? I'm very familiar with that type of look as Pellenorr always wore it when he was planning to pull a major prank or a joke on someone." Tatiana commented to him, then her hazel eyes widened slightly in a remembered memory about her brother. "He also used it when we had our tickle-fights half of which, I would always wind up loosing." |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 22 2010, 10:51 PM Post #252 |
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Author: Lancelot Date: Wed May 21, 2008 6:48 pm Lancelot Arthur was a master of control. Lancelot did note the other man's look of surprise when he met Arthur's gaze as the Woad girl mentioned Tristan, but other than that, the Roman was as stoic as ever. However, as he spoke to the little chit and was, in Lancelot's opinion, way too trusting and kind, Arthur still held his hand over the spot where Neeve had placed his stitches. Lancelot did not acknowledge it verbally, but he knew he might be part of the reason the commander's wound was paining him still. Fucking bird-nosed Optio was too. So, the Sarmatian moved a bit closer to the Roman, planting his buttocks on the same table Arthur had been leaning on. He thought by providing a presence, the other man wouldn't have to worry so much about seeming alone in his command. Despite his words and his teasing to the girl, Lancelot would do what Arthur requested with her. If he had to protect her to save Arthur's vow, then he would. And if he had to, he would die trying.
"Perhaps his jovial nature and outgoing personality have won her over," Lancelot remarked as he slid his dagger away - not back to his boot, but to the small pocket in his leather vest, where it was easily accessible. He could break the little blue girl over his knee if he had to - in one easy move. He should not need a weapon to do it - but, nonetheless, the look in her eyes said small but mighty. Lancelot knew better than to relax around any enemy - be it man or woman. He blinked several times, trying to wet his dry and bloodshot eyes. He did not like to appear drained - part of his power, despite his slender stature and appearance (the too large clothing did not help matters), was his ability to remain alert and frightening at all times. No matter if he'd been awake for four hours or forty. He felt his head buzz, but with an extreme amount of willpower, he shoved it aside and took in a few deep breaths. He was Lancelot ap Ban. He was Arthur Castus' first knight, and he'd be damned if he allowed some little thing like physical - and emotional - exhaustion ruin that facade he'd worked so hard to build. No one - least of all some little scrap of a woad - would take that from him. He still owned that, at least. He slid a bit closer to Arthur unconsciously. He knew how the other man felt - he'd been wounded himself before - and ... I wasn't there when I should have been. "Well, girl? Answer my 'Roman,' here," the Sarmatian snapped, some of his patience ebbing as his mood waned more quickly than the new moon that hung over Badon at night - curved and sharp and dangerous to even look at. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 22 2010, 10:52 PM Post #253 |
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Author: linnet Date: Wed May 21, 2008 7:32 pm Mother Lavinia Lavinia’s back straightened and her chest rose in surprise as she watched Bors empty the entire bottle of spirits in just two gulps.
No, she hadn’t been trying to poison him, but now she eyed him cautiously, a little worried that not adding the word ‘slowly’ to her instructions to finish the whole bottle might have been a mistake. He was looking rather woozy, but not dead, so the nun set to work on his infected leg.
“Bad enough he could lose his leg if the infection gets worse,” she answered bluntly. “But we’ll make sure that doesn’t happen.” She cut away the stitches, disinfected the wound, poked around in it to remove all the imbedded grit and the dead tissue, disinfected again, stitched things up properly, and wrapped the leg with a clean bandage. “Done,” she said, gathering up her tools. The boisterous knight had kept still throughout the ordeal. Lavinia wasn’t sure if he was awake enough to hear her or not, so she addressed Dagonet. “I’ll be back a little later to check on both of you. If he decides he’s ready to leave in the meantime, tell him to at least take it easy and to check in with me in two days.” She moved to stand at the side of Dagonet’s bed. “And you should just rest so that you can start getting your strength back. I know it’s hard.” The old nun briefly touched the weak knight’s arm. She wasn’t good with sentiment, and this was her best effort at expressing her sympathy for the death of the man’s son. She didn’t meet his eyes, but turned and walked briskly away. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 23 2010, 02:19 PM Post #254 |
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Author: Unicorn Date: Thu May 22, 2008 4:38 am Dagonet Dagonet saw that surprised look upon Lavinia's face and it made him smile a little. He had seen Bors drinking in that matter many bottles... many times. There was nobody else so hard drinking as him... Dagonet liked to share with him drinks, but it was him, who took Bors to his room after the drinking sesion and smile silently at Vanora as he did so.... He could not tell if Bors was still awake or the drink done it's job and made him loose awerness at all.
Dagonet frowned slightly. Damn it all! That was his job to make sure these kind of things won't happen! If he would not get again injured he would see to Bors's leg and make him stay in one place... not to overburden his injury. He watched as Lavinia's steady hands worked on the wound... after a moment though he let his head roll to the side as he felt so weak in that moment. His side hurted him slightly, nothing to worry about, it was a dull pain.
Dagonet looked back at the woman as she gathered her things. It seemed that Bors kept himself steady, if he was still awake. The tall Sarmatian could not tell.... His friend was still grasping the sides of the cot, but his eyes were closed.
Wounded knight nodded his head still looking at Bors trying to figure out if he was asleep or not... well at least he had not felt any pain right now. If Bors will want to leave the infirmary Dagonet will surely tell him what he thought about overdoing the wounds... But he was not in the position to say those oppinion, as he was the one searching for Gedeon's body with a hole in his side.... almost tearing his body apart... almost dying from exhaustion.
He looked at her as she spoke but their eyes did not meet. She placed her hand briefly over his shoulder and Dagonet knew this was the gesture of sympathy. Hard... It was hard to think, it was hard to breath, it was hard to keep living now. His life was geting harder and harder. He looked at Bors beside him and once more tried to see if he was asleep. It would seem so... Dagonet closed briefly his eyes and brought hand to run over his head. His hair had grown long.... His beard was also longer than it suppose to be. He looked terrible probably. He was tired and weak... He rised his other hand to look at it. The bandage was on it keeping hand thight. The hole in it should be healing well. Dagonet shook his head sighing. Where was Saoirse anyway? Derfel and that Lucius went to search for her, but it was some time before. He looked to the side at the room. He did not see her nor Derfel or Lucius. Without further thinking he let his eyelids slid down... Yes he needed his rest... He needed his strenghts back. Derfel told him that Linnette was fine and that he was taking care of her. But Dagonet wanted to do this himself. He wanted to be there for others... He wanted to have his strenghts back. and with that thought he allowed himself his rest. Mirtha
Mirtha frowned as she spoke and his eyes went downwards... He knew that if she had not give him what he wanted, he would be the same. Angry and brutal. He knew that... He knew that everytime he was drunk he was agresive and he was waking up more than once with new injuries and bruises. "Ione, I would never want to hurt you..." he said silently. "But I am out of control while drunk... I don't know what would have happened..." he silence himself at the mere thought what would he do to her. He would regrett it till the end of his days. "I would never forgive myself."
He looked back at her not fully understanding what was she saying. Attracted? To him? How? Why? He wanted her body and would become brutal if she would protest.... and yet, still she felt attrackted to him? He remembered the first time he met her. He went down to infirmary searching for Aisling. He had not found Aisling, but Ione who was nicely talking to him. That time he found it strange... he found it strange even now.
Mirtha listened to her feeling inside something change. Not perfect... Oh, he was far away from being perfect. He was the type of man, whose many people just avoid till the rest of their days. He was a toper and troublemaker. They both felt drown to each other it would seem as he felt warmer as her closeness brought him a nice twingle and feeling in the pit of his stomach. She felt comfortable around him. Mirtha was surprised as she placed soft kisses upon his face as he spoke. Suprised, but he closed slowly his eyes feeling warm inside, feeling her kisses more vividly.
Mirtha listened and felt her moving him around somewhere, but he had not protested against it. Delight.... Their bodies fit together... He lingered on that thought and allowed her to move him around the shop towards her bedroom.
Help him? Was it possible? He looked at her... She responded to his kiss and it was very pleasurable. "How?" he asked... "I drink to forget... I drink to keep myself walking alive. There is nothing to live for than to drink, Ione. I have nobody.... I have nowhere to go.... and I have no future before me. I drink because I don't know what else I could be doing."
He looked at her and a small smile adorned his face. His hands went to her waist, then to her cheeks and he leaned further to kiss her. "You.... You are not?" he asked and smiled wider. "Ione.... I am not perfect, never had anybody close. I am alone... always has. I am sorry for what I have done... but I really feel attrackted to you. I want to feel you closer..." he murmured while he placed a kiss over her neck. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 23 2010, 02:20 PM Post #255 |
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Author: Darya Date: Thu May 22, 2008 5:37 am Darya
Darya had glanced back at the scout over her shoulder and given him a knowing smile before increasing the pace of her steps to reach her horses. Yes, Kahlan and Círdan were good horses. Well, one was…the other needed proper education first. The white stallion was very young and inexperienced…but he was Casti’s son. Thus the Sarmatian was sure he’d be just as good and reliable as Kahlan was. Glad that her two horses’ stalls were next to one another by now, Darya had taken her time to tend to both of them… She had noticed Tristan as well as Galahad leaving the stables at some point…but had remained focused on her task at hand: examining the chestnut mare and the white stallion carefully to see if they got injured during the attack…brushing their fur, cleaning the hooves…giving them some extra feed…and some well-deserved extra attention. She even had found herself in the mood to get on Kahlan’s back for a little exercise…but had discarded the idea pretty soon again. The woman was way too tired… Then she had left the stables as well and made her way back through the rain…heading for her room. As Darya had passed Arthur’s room, she had felt the strong urge to see how the Roman was doing…but had resisted this wish and continued her way. He was fine. Certainly he was. Well, as fine as possible considering his injury. The Sarmatian had finally reached her own place with a pensive frown creasing her brow, pushed the door open and closed it right behind her again. She scanned the small place that had become her sanctuary…and was relieved to see that the Woad attack had not had any effect on it. The window was in one piece…and no one had been in here. With a sigh, the dark-haired moved over to the fireplace and stoked at the weak glow in the wood until a small but warming flame was revived. Then she peeled herself out of her torn dirty and bloodied dress, hissing sharply when the drapery was ripped off the small wound on her left upper arm as the dried blood had had it stuck to the skin, and heedlessly let the gown slide to the ground. Then she used what water was left in the washbasin to finally clean herself as good as possible. Darya used the opportunity to carefully examine her back as much as possible, too…and it seemed the tattoo Isolde had done not too long ago had healed well. There was still some itching every now and then…but other than that she hardly felt anything regarding the procedure anymore. This brought a small smile to Darya’s lips… …which then faded when she was rooting in her chest of drawers to find something fresh to put on. Just that there was not much left to pick from. She would have to see Ione at some point and ask the weaver if she could do some new clothes for her perhaps. The Sarmatian had some coin left after all. Darya’s smile then vanished completely when she attempted to lace up one of her breeches. The piece of clothing just would not fit…anymore. It was not much that kept it from doing so…but she could hardly hold her breath all day for the laces to stay put, could she? A small but very efficient reminder of what she had yet to talk to Arthur about. Chewing her lower lip, the dark-haired stepped out of the trousers again and finally pulled out a dress she had not worn in a very long time. One of those she had had to wear during some of her 'missions' for Corvus. A dress that did not hold the best of memories for her…but it would have to do for now. She would just have to loosen the front-lacing a little to make it a wee bit wider. Once done, the female Sarmatian glanced down herself and a corner of her mouth twitched slightly. It looked all pretty Roman…which was no surprise, seeing that this dress was made by Romans. She did like the dark red and black colouring though. Anyway…what now? Even though her body was begging for some proper rest, Darya knew she wouldn’t find sleep. It was noon…and there was way too much going on that kept her mind busy. So once she was sure that her beloved dagger was strapped properly to her right thigh, the dark-haired grabbed her cloak…and a bit later found herself wandering about the Fort again. Slowly…pensively, the cloak’s large hood blending out a good part of the world around her…but Darya did not really care right now. She was roughly heading for the tavern…but was not really sure if she indeed wanted to go there…yet… |
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