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| May 2008 | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Mar 18 2010, 02:23 AM (3,640 Views) | |
| golden_trillium | Mar 18 2010, 10:58 PM Post #16 |
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Author: Lancelot Date: Fri May 02, 2008 7:16 pm Lancelot Oh, the cheek of the bastard Optio! Lancelot just loved that the man totally ignored protocol - Scipio might not like that Lancelot was Arthur's second, but that didn't change the fact that he was. And yet here was the hawk-nosed fool, brushing past Lancelot and speaking to Arthur as if no one else was in the room.
Lancelot barked a laugh. He couldn't help it. This man was telling Arthur Castus how to deal with Woads? Hysterical. Lancelot rested his hand on the butt of the dagger tucked into a side sheath in his leathers, and waited with hidden amusement for Arthur to spank the little bastard into next week.
Hrm. Damn. The Sarmatian was loathe to admit it - actually, it made him feel physically ill to admit it - but the fucker had a point. A point Lancelot himself had tried to make, and Arthur had ignored his sound advice. Catching Arthur's eyes as the other man stood shakily albeit with much grace for one so injured, Lancelot shrugged minutely and made a face as if to say I'm not the only one who's thought it.
"Arthur," Lancelot interrupted. He couldn't hold his tongue any longer, no matter who Arthur was actually speaking to. "The Optio," he swallowed over the horrid taste that flooded his mouth as he spoke the hated thoughts. "Scipio is right - in this regard. The Woads are not to be trusted - or didn't you realize this when they took me?" He ran a hand through his hair, not realizing his fingers were trembling. He clenched them into fists at his sides to hide the movement. He sighed angrily. "I still think you need to allow someone else - if not me, perhaps him," he jerked his chin at the hated hook-beaked Roman, "to go to see the Magician. You are not well." His dark eyes would have burned holes in Arthur's skull were that possible. He took an involuntary step forward, bringing himself that much closer to Amadeus. He glanced at the other man - he couldn't stop himself - and sneered without meaning to at the Optio. "This is a fool's errand. And you, Artos, are no fool." The name Arthur's sister had called him slipped from Lancelot's tongue without his thinking about it, but once he'd spoken it, the feeling in the room changed for him. His eyes locked with Arthur's, and something began to build - the air felt thick, and Lancelot suddenly had a hard time breathing. What would the man do? Lancelot prayed to whatever annoying god was listening that for once, just once, Arthur would listen to reason and do what Lancelot suggested. Otherwise - and despite the fact that there were women present - it might just get ugly. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 18 2010, 11:01 PM Post #17 |
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Author: golden_trillium Date: Fri May 02, 2008 8:02 pm Linnette and Linnesse
He was calling her love? Linnette's nose wrinkled just slightly; once more she found that his combination of rather forced familial closeness and hesitancy- witness his hand that had twitched toward her arm and then withdrew nervously- annoyed her. And love? It was condescending, coming from him- like he was speaking to a child. But he was giving in to her admittedly silly, paranoid request- she couldn't be too upset with him, though the sense of unease and discomfort remained. She returned his half-bow with a rather frosty nod, having fallen back on coldness as a defense mechanism against either anger, or tears again. What other emotions were there to feel? "Thank you- I'm grateful," she told him, and truly, she was. She was very grateful- she did want that candle seen to, for her peace of mind. But she didn't want to stand here and endure Derfel's pity any longer, either. She raised her chin and turned just a touch away, uncertainly, though the mask of her face hid that nearly completely, as Derfel turned solicitously to Linnesse.
"Well..." Linnesse tossed an anxious glance at Linnette as she took Derfel's hand. She truly did not understand what her sister was thinking now- she did not understand why she suddenly seemed to be avoiding eye contact with her or Derfel. But even though she craned her head a little, trying to catch Linnette's gaze again, she got no response, except a tiny, barely perceptible nod that might have said "go ahead". "I...perhaps I'll come with you...say a prayer myself?" She looked at Derfel for the first part of the sentence, then aimed her suggestion at Linnette, almost pleadingly, searching for approval, and she got it in a firmer nod, now. "I'd like that, Linnesse- but be sure to rest afterwards, won't you?" Linnette tried for a ghost of a smile, then, though it turned out looking more pained. Tears, though they did not really threaten to spill over, had made their presence known once again at the corners of her eyes, and she turned away again. She was not going to go see Arthur crying!
The second voice was low, like a rumble suddenly beside her- but Drake did not meet her eyes at all, only looked down somewhere in the vicinity of her hands, clasped in front of her as she had nothing else to do with them. Was she ready...it looked, rather surprisingly, and perhaps unnecessarily, like he was proposing to escort her to Arthur himself. "Yes," she replied to him gravely, simply, with a blink to put back the vestiges of tears once again. She cast another glance back at Derfel and Linnesse, a silent farewell for now, though there seemed no reason to say anything else, and a risk of crying if she did- the way Derfel was gently holding Linnesse's hand right now, she and Gedeon used to do that- and turned and started down the corridor towards where she knew Arthur's quarters to be. Drake was near her- she knew it, and even took a little comfort in it, but she gave no sign, not looking at him as she walked, and keeping her chin up, her lips together, and her face serious- oh, so serious- and, inevitably, sad. Whatever Arthur wanted of her, there was nothing to be but sad. As her sister and Drake walked away down the corridor, Linnesse bit her lip worriedly and glanced again up at Derfel for reassurance, but said nothing as they once again made their way outdoors into the rain. Linnette seemed so closed off, as if she had built a wall around her soul. The way she insisted on doing everything herself- was it normal, that? Should she be more dependent? Or should Linnette, who had always been as independent as she could be, not be expected to change that essential characteristic of her in grief? What could Linnesse do to help her, to help her have the best life possible even with her beloved gone? Linnesse didn't have any answers for herself- and decreasing energy to think about them. By the time they got to the chapel steps, she was near exhausted again, leaning on Derfel's arm almost as much as she had done last night, her eyes weary and her head drooping. Maybe this excursion to the chapel hadn't been the best idea after all. Tristan
Tristan gave a soft, amused snort at that. The Captain couldn’t possibly know of his appointment with the blonde whore after the noon meal, but he had ironically put his finger almost exactly on the scout’s plans. Except that Tristan wouldn’t be “joining” anyone- he didn’t share. Not that way. Still, a little half smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he orgainzed an answer to the Captains's ranting questions. Barbattus had never been one to keep his opinions to himself for long- but even for him, he was unusually vocal today. "The road...who knows," Tristan gave a regretful, exasperated shrug as they rounded a corner, leaving the side street and starting to cross the main courtyard to the stables. Barbattus seemed to be headed more or less there himself, and that suited Tristan very well. "They came up so sudden they damn near shot me." Tristan shot a grimace over at the Captain, then folded his arms grumpily, looking down and kicking at a loose stone. "Merlin's a devil, always will be. And that Woad woman- fucking bitch. You said there's a child, too?" He looked back at Barbattus sharply at that. He hadn't noticed a child- certainly no child had been taking by Arthur's group. What in the world would Arthur want with a Woad child? An uncomfortable vision came to him then, of Fiona, whom he had also thought of as a child, in chains in the dungeons. What in the world was imprisoning a child supposed to accomplish? |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 18 2010, 11:02 PM Post #18 |
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Author: linnet Date: Fri May 02, 2008 8:28 pm Mother Lavinia Lavinia sent a silent thank you to Her Boss when she saw that Neeria was regaining consciousness. Now that she had been cleaned up, the Woad looked serene and quite pretty – a young woman instead of a wild painted savage. Neeria still was weak, but she gave her attention to the worried girl immediately, before turning to Lavinia.
The nun saw the tears in the woman’s eyes, but just gave a little snort and a dismissive ‘no need to mention it’ wave of her hand. Sentimental emotions were something Lavinia had no room for. But someone looking closely into her tired old eyes could see that Neeria’s gratitude had been appreciated. Running the madhouse which was her infirmary meant that most of the nun’s time was spent on administrative details and supervisory duties. It was satisfying to once in a while actually be a healer again. Just as expected, the little girl wasn’t about to let Lavinia treat her too. But after some skillful coaxing and encouragement from Neeria, the child stomped around the bed. Lavinia couldn’t hide a smile at the sight of the filthy waif with the coal-black eyes, defiantly waiting for something to happen. Well, it was back on her knees again, as Lavinia put a clean towel into the basin of water with soothing powder, wrung it out, and gently started to wash the small body. Under the blanket which Lavinia took and set down beside them, the child was stark naked. The nun tried to give special attention to the bruises and scrapes, to get them clean without hurting the girl too much. When the cleaning was finished as best it was going to be, Lavinia reached to the supply stand behind her and held up a soft white tunic, a child’s version of the one Neeria wore. It was obviously going to be bigger than the tiny framed Woad needed, but after the child eyed it uncertainly, Lavinia set it on the floor right next to the blanket. Then when the girl seemed distracted just a little, looking at her choices of apparel, the nun took the injured shoulder firmly in her hands and gave a quick twist to get it correctly back in place. Then she stood and backed away a bit, because she knew that would have hurt. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 18 2010, 11:03 PM Post #19 |
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Author: Ranchera Date: Fri May 02, 2008 9:46 pm Connell
Connell's hand came to the hilt of his hunting knife. He would carry no sword, but it was a good weapon should he need to use it. He glanced at Guinevere and Mona on either side of him. The women were quiet now, perhaps each to her own thoughts, but together they made their way towards the fort. After walking some ways, Connell said, "It is wise that we have sustenance. I am carrying some flatbread and seeds. You don't suppose we might stop and eat? After all, you'll want your strength when we reach the fort. And who knows how long we'll have to wait?" |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 18 2010, 11:05 PM Post #20 |
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Author: LadyCastus Date: Fri May 02, 2008 9:58 pm Titrus As Malcus moved past the two men, Titrus turned, with a scowl on his face, and looked at Brendyn. “I don’t like lying to my superior officer. I will NEVER do it again. Consider yourself in my debt. Now let’s move.” Titrus walked briskly down the narrow passageway that led to the small alleyway behind the fortress barracks. Before they even got close to the latrines, the smell was unmistakable. Titrus wrinkled up his nose and subconsciously slowed his pace. Taking his cloak and placing it over his nose, Titrus approached the door in an almost squat-like position akin to a cat sneaking up on a mouse. Once he opened the door, he involuntarily gagged. The lieutenant turned and looked at Brendyn, speaking through the cloth covering his mouth. “It’s nice and ripe for you! Now go get changed out of your uniform and get your arse back here in double time. Move!” Brendyn saluted and turned toward the front of the barracks when he stopped suddenly and grabbed his side. When he looked at his hand, there was blood. “What’s the matter with you? You’re not getting out of…” Titrus asked. Then the lieutenant noticed just how pale the soldier was. “Are you wounded, soldier?” Neeria Neeria laid her head back down on the bed when Eala finally relinquished and moved toward the healer. Neeria lay looking at the ceiling of the old infirmary frequently offering a soothing touch or sound of her voice if Eala seemed to become uncomfortable while the nun did her work on the younger woad . ”What am I doing here?” the woad warrior thought to herself. So many things had happened in such a short period of time. Not two days ago, she was filled with hatred for Arthur Castus and she'd wanted to kill him. She should have killed the scout on the road the second she saw him. Because she’d hesitated, he’d been able to warn Arthur that they were coming. She hadn't expected to see anyone. If she’d killed the scout, the surprise of the attack may have been to her advantage. Neeria had tried and she’d gotten so close. But she was badly injured and Arthur was just too big for her take down from her advantage point. He simply bested her. Was she a fool for thinking she could have killed him? But she’d been so close. She hated the Romans. They were responsible for the deaths of her people. But her hate went no further. She didn’t hate the Sarmatians – they were slaves like the native Britons. Sarmatians , she thought. Tristan, the scout came to her mind again. He looked so much like Mikel. Neeria thought of those who were lost in this last attack – Serus and her beloved Mikel. She sighed out loud and pulled herself away from her thoughts. They were too painful. Neeria was suddenly very tired and sleepy. She looked over at Eala and the nun. The healer had laid out a tunic for the girl to put on. Neeria closed her eyes to go to sleep when suddenly she heard a horrifying crrrrrrrack!. She opened her eyes to see Eala’s black eyes fixated on the nun as though she were about to attack. "Eala!!" Neeria screamed, ignoring the pain that exploded in her side. Malcus Barbattus Malcus and Tristan turned in the direction of the stables. The captain would check on his mount, Falco, before breakfast. Malcus was feeling somewhat better having blown off some steam. The prospect of fondling bosom over breakfast became very appealing to him as the two men made their way. Tristan didn’t respond to Malcus’ question about joining him which was fine with the captain. That just meant more teet for him. Malcus licked his lips at the thought. Tristan seemed focused on the business at hand instead.
Talkative bastard, aren’t you? Malcus thought to himself and curled his lips. Tristan was a man of few words and Barbattus couldn't help but wonder what lurked in that brain that was well hidden behind those dirty braids. But much to Malcus' surprise, Tristan continued. But only a little bit.
Barbattus raised an eyebrow but didn’t interrupt the scout.
“Seems like that fucking prick Mordred captured her himself when Merlin's runners rushed the side gate. What a big man Mordred is! He beat the shiete out of a little girl. Big man. Looks like he dislocated her shoulder, stomped her and the Christ himself only knows what else. In addition, she’s as naked as the day she was born. Damned animals those fucking woads, all of ‘em! Men, women and children, it don't matter” Malcus scoffed. Just as the two men neared the stables, a young page ran up to Barbattus and saluted. Barbattus tipped his head back to the boy. “Commander Castus has requested your presence in his private chambers at once. SIR!” It wasn’t the greatest timing, but the captain was glad he would be able to see his friend, Arthur. “Very well,” he told the boy. “I will be there immediately.” The boy saluted again, “Yes sir!” and took off running in the direction from which he came. “Tristan,” Malcus said, turning back to the knight, “it would seem that our talk has been interrupted. Perhaps we’ll meet up later over a tankard of spicy mead.” Malcus reached out again to shake with Tristan and turned away from the stables, walking toward Arthur’s quarters. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 18 2010, 11:10 PM Post #21 |
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Author: golden_trillium Date: Sat May 03, 2008 7:30 am Tristan
"Hmmmph." Tristan gave a grunt of agreement to that. Woad were animals, filthy, stinking animals who didn't even ride, but crawled about in trees like spiders. And Mordred had captured one of their little girls? Tristan couldn't imagine why, and his mind once again shied away from the images that Barbattus' words planted in his mind. But she was being cared for, as was the other woman- Barbattus had said that. They both ought to be dead, though, Tristan thought savagely. Dead, so they couldn't wheedle Arthur with their false promises anymore. They were just outside the stables now, and as Tristan reached for the door handle, a page boy dashed up to them and announced a summons for Captain Barbattus.
Hmm...no summons for him, Tristan. The scout frowned slightly as the boy dashed off. That meant they probably weren't riding anywhere just yet- but that, in turn, probably meant no good for the state of the Commander's health. He had meant to ride out to Merlin yesterday afternoon- and now it was the next morning and still no indication of any action being taken. What could that mean except that Arthur was too wounded to do what he had decided he would do. The pensive frown was still set on Tristan's face as Barbattus took his leave.
"Yeah." Tristan glanced thoughtfully one more time in the direction where the boy had disappeared, then turned back to the Captain, with a deep breath for the unusually forward speech he was about to make. "Let me know how the Commander's doing. If you can. Sir." He didn't report to Barbattus, and rarely had reason to talk official matters with him, but the Captain outranked him, so Tristan added the title as a rather awkward finish, feeling it necessary if he was to make a request. Arthur usually did not hide much from the scout- or at least, realized that Tristan was going to see everything anyway- and clearly right now, all was not well. And Tristan wanted to know the full extent of it, all the bad news at once, so he could be prepared. Being prepared was everything. But for now, he sketched another salute for Barbattus and ducked inside the warm stables, trying to push his worry to the back of his mind and concentrate for a while on horsey matters instead. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 18 2010, 11:11 PM Post #22 |
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Author: Unicorn Date: Sat May 03, 2008 11:46 am Mirtha
Mirtha was looking at Vanora talking to that girl (Tatiana), who sounded and looked familiar, but his mind was not so soon ready for any thinking. He was looking at the familiar woman with a deep frown. Who was she? When Vanora approached and cheerfully told him about the food situation his mood became even more dim. He looked up at the tavern menager and rolled his eyes. "Just water... and that bread..." he said and shook his head murmuring something under his breath... Just fucking great. He looked back at the woman and then her face took it's right place in his mind. "What the hell?" he murmured and stood up and walked towards Tatiana and pointed a finger at her. "Are you not suppose to be working now? What the fuck are you doing here, when there is so much work in the stables?" his voice was at the start deadly cold, but then it rised in anger. He rised his eyebrow and waited for her answer. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 18 2010, 11:12 PM Post #23 |
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Author: Elessars Girl Date: Sat May 03, 2008 12:05 pm Derfel Derfel had silently accepted Linnette’s words of gratitude, but could not help feeling strange in her presence; her hazel eyes uncharacteristically cold and closed off….he was certain to be spending a great deal more time with the raven-haired sister….so he’d best get used to it. He’d rather Linnette was fussing at him like normal instead of this….but she was grieving and each person dealt with loss in their own way.
The knight wrapped a protective arm around Linnesse and glanced over at Drake for a moment longer. Derfel seemed to see genuine concern on the older man’s craggy expression….not typical of a Roman soldier in the young knight’s opinion…but it seemed to ensure that Drake would indeed see Linnette safely to Arthur.
Derfel looked to Linnette again as if to offer his silent reassurance that Linnesse would indeed be resting immediately afterwards. He had opened his mouth to offer to fetch Linnette from the Commander’s quarters, but thought better of it. She did not seem to welcome Derfel’s support right now…not unexpected either. But Derfel had promised Dagonet he’d see to Linnette and by the gods he would. Whether she’ll allow it or not. As he began to lead Linnesse back towards the exit, Derfel heard Drake’s voice as he addressed Linnette….
….the older man’s words seemed to contain protective undertones as if Drake had insight…..Surely he knows Arthur would not hurt Linnette. I am reading him wrong…surely. Derfel slightly shook his head at his own foolishness while helping Linnesse down the steps and back out into the cold morning rain. And by the time the two had actually made it to the entrance to the chapel, Derfel could see the exhaustion in Linnesse’s eyes and in her slumped posture. Perhaps he should have insisted that his lover wait in Linnette’s room while Derfel took care of the errand. He also thought to ask Linnesse about how well she and Linnette knew this man Drake. Derfel could not remember the man being around the family before the mission.....but later. “You will spend the rest of this miserable day tucked into bed….ya hear?” Derfel gave his orders with a tone that brooked no argument; expression full of concern as he nearly carried Linnesse through the threshold of the chapel door. He gave a gentle rub at Linnesse back as the two made their way towards the front of the chapel. It had been a long time since Derfel had attended a Christian service….although Gedeon and Linnette’s wedding quickly came to mind. Derfel had spent several years of his youth in the monastery at Ynys Wydryn (Glastonbury), thus he understood the teachings of Christ despite remaining a pagan. He still remembered many of the old prayers he’d been instructed in by the monks. Surely one would be appropriate for Gedeon. As Derfel led Linnesse to the front of the chapel, he noted that they were interrupting another person’s prayer. A man (Lucius) in uniform…one of the Roman soldiers no doubt…was knelt in prayer as they approached the altar. Derfel’s gaze immediately went to the candles; searching for the one Linnette had indicated…the one in front. It was still burning….brightly. “Forgive our intrusion, my friend,” Derfel quietly offered his apologies to the soldier as he helped Linnesse to join him in kneeling beside the other man. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 18 2010, 11:15 PM Post #24 |
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Author: Pinkie Date: Sat May 03, 2008 12:54 pm Amadeus Amadeus would never admit it nor wuold he ever let it show, but Arthur rising to his impressive height when so obviously injured was ... disconcerting. It was not scary - it was just unsettling. It was like looking at a corpe rising from the dead. It was like slaying your enemy and taking a breath, only to see him rise up stronger than ever, and angry for you killing him. The Optio ignored Lancelot's snort - he ignored Arthur's gesture towards his first Knight. In fact, he was still pretending that the two women and First Knight were not in the room at all. They shouldn't have been there - this should have been between Arthur and himself but the man insisted on showing weakness, he insisted on letting his pets shit on the carpet.
Amadeus!!! The Optio practically shrieked in his own mind. Why did Arthur insist on calling him by his first name in front of the damn slaves?! What was wrong with him that he could not recognise rightful rank and authority? Why did he insist on undermining his authority so blatantly?
Amadeus remained quiet throughout Arthur's explanation. He looked nothing like a chided subject however. He looked vicious - his sharp grey eyes boring up at the Commander who stood a few inches taller than him. He could have laughed at Arthur thinking that 'knowing Merlin' for so long was a good thing. It was abominable! He frowned at the Commander's seeming caustic attitude towards the woman, his lack of regard for her life. It was entirely uncharacteristic for Arthur to be dismissive of anyone's life, even if it was his enemy. Just as he parted to speak up, at least about the first issue, turned to ash.
The thought of his ideas running concurrent with Lancelot's was even more disconcerting than seeing Arthur rise to his feet. It made the bile rise in the back of his throat but Amadeus kept his eyes set forward, boring up into Arthur's without relenting. They flickered with surprise when Lancelot suggested that he should go see Merlin. The potential for control very near dazzled him completely but he did not react. Not until he was certain Lancelot had shut his trap. But there was more!! Artos? Was that a pet-name or something?! Amadeus frowned, turning his head sharply to glower at Lancelot before whipping his head back to Arthur. He had resolved to pretend Lancelot was not there, had he not? He was intrigued as to this bit of information that slipped from Lancelot about him being taken by the woads, When had that been? What were the circumstances surrounding that event? Amadeus put it to the back of his mind to enquire about this event when he got the chance. "As Rome's officially declared second to your command, Commander, it would only be fit that I go to Merlin. Lancelot is right. You are not a fool." Amadeus turned to Lancelot with a devious smirk beneath his hooked nose - "And you are ill, Arthur." he said with obvious relish in his eyes but lacking it in his voice so that only Lancelot knew his enjoyment of the Commander's condition. Drake Drake was not relieved to be left alone with Linnette, not after seeing her reaction to her brother-in-law. It seemed uncharacteristic of her though he could not say he knew her character as well as Derfel might. The man took it well though, bowing to Linnette and then taking his wife's hand and leading her away. The Spaniard was not afraid of meeting Linnette's eyes. He was just fascinated, once more, with her hands. They were tiny hands, extraordinary that they were the hands of a potential mother. He waited patiently for her response, listening to the footsteps of Derfel and Linnesse retreating.
Nodding his head, Drake turned to walk a pace behind Linnette, still with his saddlebags slung awkwardly over his shoulders. They brushed the walls every now and then, the only other noise beside their footsteps. Drake watched Linnette's back, the stiff way that she walked, uncertain. Did she knew that he would ensure that she did nothing she did not feel ready to do? Did she realise that he would stand guard by her door without sleep if she needed him to? Did she know that he would try to bring her husband back to life just to see her smile??? Stupid, foolish notions. Drake snorted at himself, walking a little quicker to catch up to Linnette. He had his chin lowered and his brow, eternally, furrowed. "If the world was perfect then no-one would die. People do die which ... which leaves us left to hope that the world beyond this is perfect." the Spaniard spoke uncharactertistically profound words, the last coming out as a rush as he realised how stupid he sounded. He tensed his jaw, glancing sideways at Linnette to note her reaction, but also to ensure that she could see the eternal hurt in his own eyes from having lost his whole family, so that she might understand his need to believe that the world beyond this one might be perfect. It was not just his wife that was there, but his sons. His three young sons. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 18 2010, 11:16 PM Post #25 |
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Author: LadyCastus Date: Sat May 03, 2008 12:54 pm Malcus Barbattus Malcus reached the entrance to the barracks and removed his cloak. As he passed the sentry on duty, he nodded his head and walked to his own quarters first before going to see Arthur. The captain laid his cloak neatly on the back of a chair and sat down on his bed. Barbattus looked down at his boots while at the same time, reaching for a cloth that was laying neatly on his bed table. He unlaced his boots, removed them and began to wipe off the dirt and mud. When the gunk was gone, the captain reached under the bed with one hand and pulled out a small cup that contained congealed pork grease. Malcus dipped the cloth into the grease and smeared it onto his boots, rubbing it around so they shone. When satisfied with the finish, Malcus pushed the cup back under his bed. The captain then stood up and straightened out his uniform, smoothing his hands down the length of body. He brushed off any loose particals and straighted his gig line. Malcus was a devoted military man and if he had orders to report to the fortress commander, he would present himself as such even if he and Arthur were friends. Barbattus crossed the room and approached the very small mirror hanging in his wash area and looked at his reflection. Not bad, old man he smiled to himself. The chamber wench had already been in to make the beds, take the dirty clothes and replenish the wash basins. The captain dipped his hands in the cool water and splashed his face, drying it on the clean cloths the girl had left next to the basin. Then he ran his still wet fingers through his thick black curly hair. He took the mint stick next to the basin and chewed a couple of leaves, swishing them around in his mouth then spitting into the bed pan. Checking his reflection again and satisfied that he was presentable as an officer of the Roman Army, Barbattus made his way 'round to the other wing of the barracks where Arthur's quarters were housed. Malcus reached the outer door and heard voices inside. With a smile on his face, he knocked loudly and waited to greet his friend. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 18 2010, 11:17 PM Post #26 |
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Author: Pinkie Date: Sat May 03, 2008 1:06 pm Eala Eala had never had someone to tend to her the way the old nun did now. At first she was cautious, untrusting. Her black eyes were unforgiving as they glared down at the woman washing the scabbed skin about her knees, skin that had been stained blue from many excursions with the warriors onto the field of battle. Her untrusting bleakness was slowly, SLOWLY, being withered away as each layer of grime and dust was removed. She stood without shame in her naked state. She had been dressed when taken to the cells - they had attempted to clean her the night before, removing her clothes, but she had ensured that they did not get close enough to wash. The nun was almost finished washing her. Eala had a hand lifted upwards, her brows furrowed as she looked at her clean fingers in wonderment. Her painfully thin body was shaking with cold, but she was quite adept at ignoring such trivial things as body termperature. A white tunic was held up. Eala slowly lowered her hand, glowering at the nun, her lips twitching into a sneer but not quite making it yet. Neeria touched her back gently, encouragingly. Eala's nose wrinkled, she looked over her shoulder at the older woad and then looked down at the tunic consideringly, chewing the inside of her cheek. Distracted, Eala had just shaken to life when the nun reached over, popped her shoulder and withdrew. The initial rage that Eala felt, the untrusting fury that was her nature when in the company of Romans, swelled in her little chest. She did not make a sound, glaring at the nun, crouching -- and then the pain struck. All thoughts of attacking the nun were scuppered as the jolt sent Eala to her knees. "UHNA!!" she cried out, not hearing Neeria's call behind her. The ten-year old twisted on the ground, crawling under the bed and grabbed the tunic. She let out the most feral sobs as she hid beneath the bed, scrambling to get teh tunic on. Once it was over her head, she scrambled out the far side of the bed, scampering in the direction of the shelf with utensils. Lavinia was in her path however, and Eala stopped, hissing at her before backing away, her feet crossing over each other until she bumped into the bed. The pain was still agonising and she turned, jumping onto the bed and then slipping down to the other side. Her black eyes were filled with tears of pain - but she looked more furious than hurt right now, head whipping side to side for something to defend herself. Her hand flew up to her wounded shoulder and she let out a sob, her bottom lip trembling. Her tortured black eyes turned to Neeria and her mouth opened, moisture leaking from her eyes as she gave another hurt groan before hunkering down onto her heels, holding her arm in the hopes of stopping the pain. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 18 2010, 11:18 PM Post #27 |
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Author: LadyCastus Date: Sat May 03, 2008 1:13 pm Mona Mona's mind was racing trying to plan her next moves. She had to be sure not to alert anyone to her plans. The three of them - Guinevere, Connell and Mona - were moving through the woods at a good rate of speed and at that pace, they'd make it to the wall in no time. Mona realized that she didn't have much time to plan her strategy. If she was going to take out both Neeria and Guinevere, she'd have to do it before they got together. If the three of them actually found Neeria, it would be too difficult for Mona to take on both warriors at the same time. Then there was that damn Ash to consider as well. Oh! Mona didn't doubt her ability to kill either one of them. She was quite confident in her prowessness as a fighter, but why tire herself? No. She would take out Guinevere first then Neeria. Afterall, Neeria would have no idea that Guinevere was even involved in the rescue. But what to do about Connell? Certainly he was no threat to her...that was ridiculous...and would Ash buy into the notion that Merlin would have sent Mona alone on a rescue mission? As the woad was playing out the scenarios in her mind, suddenly Connell spoke up.
What the bloody hell? Mona said to herself, He wants to stop and eat?!. Wanting to take out her dagger and stab Connell in his throat, Mona instead, reigned in her anger and stopped walking. She turned to Connell and said, "If this mission is too strenuous for you old man, why don't you turn around and go back. We haven't gone that far. You'll be back at your farm before dark," Mona snickered then added, "The princess and I will be fine without you." As hard as she tried not to, her lips curled up into a snarl and her blue eyes flashed dangerously. "But of course, Guinevere, it is your decision whether we stop or keep going." Mona rolled her eyes at Connell and turned to look at Guinevere. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 18 2010, 11:20 PM Post #28 |
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Author: Pinkie Date: Sat May 03, 2008 1:23 pm Mari and Kolya "I... It isn't ... what you think it is .. it's ... different." Mari tried to explain, tucking her hair behind her ear constantly, her big brown eyes looking up at her father's furious blue eyes hopefully. Mari was not one to be quelled or scared by a furious look, not from her father. She had faith that he would not be angry with her once he knew all the story. So far she had gotten to the bits about it not being Milan that had hurt her. She had told him that Milan was her best friend, that he was more than her best friend. At which point Kolya had gone stonily quiet. Seething. "He's not bad, Kolya. He's a good man..." "He's a fucking boy, Mari. He's a child. Just like you're a fucking child who doesn't have a fucking clue -- " the male growled. Mari flinched at the language he was using but she shrugged sweetly, her eyebrows lifting hopefully. "Well then surely we are a good match... considering we are both young... M..." "Young and damn stupid! He only wants one thing from you Mari, that one fucking thing that that other bastard took because you wouldn't give it!" "STOP!" Mari cried, suddenly angry that her father was putting Milan into the same category as Mordred. It was horrid to think it, it was wrong of her father to say it! "Stop it! He is not like him - he's not like anyone! And most importantly he's not like you! That's why I love him!" Mari declared in a loud tone of voice, her pale cheeks reddening with anger, her eyes beginning to water though not in sadness, more in anger. Kolya stared at his daughter in wonderment. His daughter... was she even his daughter? He waited for her rant to be over and then lashed out himself. "Love?! Fucking love ?! What the fuck do you children know about love?!" the Sarmatian bellowed. Mari wrinkled her nose and threw up her hands, turning on her heel. "More than you. You're incapable of love, father. And yuo make it impossible to love you too." she said resolutely, slamming the door as she left the room. She heard her father shout 'oy' but he never came after her as she stalked down the corridor and went out into the drizzling rain of teh morning. She took a deep breath and realised she was shaking. The breath rattled from her parted lips and Mari swallowed hard. She had never, ever stood up to her father like that before. It felt strange... but oddly good. Puffing out her cheeks the young woman went across the courtyard towards the tavern. She still had the pouch of money that Amadeus had given her - she had not opened it yet, but as she wandered towards the tavern, she pulled the strings apart and looked inside. Then promptly fell into a puddle in astonishment. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 18 2010, 11:22 PM Post #29 |
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Author: Kay Date: Sat May 03, 2008 1:26 pm Guinevere
"I think it's an excellent idea" Guinevere said, smiling at Connell and turning her back on Mona quite deliberately. His words had made her realise just how hungry she was. "Wait here for a moment" She turned back and managed to commandeer some supplies from a group of men who were carrying leftover provisions to the baggage train, ready to go back to the village. "Here" she said, dividing the spoils between herself, Mona and Connell. "We'll need to keep some food back, too. We have no idea how long the wait will be" |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 18 2010, 11:24 PM Post #30 |
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Author: lady ione Date: Sat May 03, 2008 1:44 pm Brendyn Aye, the lying to a superior officer could have gotten them both in trouble. Titrus turned to meet Brendyn's gaze with a scowl. Why had the man lied to Malcus anyway? Well, he was ready for his punishment none the less. He felt the blood under his arm crust over now, though there was still some fresh liquid that seemed to be seeping from it. Brendyn felt the pain and discomfort. As Malcus moved past the two men, Titrus turned, with a scowl on his face, and looked at Brendyn.
No, I am in your debt, Titrus. Brendyn followed Titrus toward the area he was assigned for his duties. His eyes took in every nook and cranny of the small ally way behind the barracks, and it did not take him long to figure out just how unclean these latirnes were, and as they approached he stiffled the urge to vomit. He brought his cape up to his nose as did Titrus, but he did so as the smells were almost toxic. Once the man opened the door, all Brendyn could do was wish that he had held his temper back at the infirmary, though he was sorry about nothing he said. As he moved foreward, Brendyn could feel the semi caked blood of his wounds sticking to the fabric of his uniform. It was definitly tender and he had to wonder that the medicus he had seen was so much in a hurry that he had not cleaned it nor stitched it well. He winced as he moved a bit more into the area, and felt the fabric pulling away from it....it felt swollen.
Brendyn did not want Titrus to know of the wound and knew he had to pay for his insolence. Should he lie, or should he tell the truth? The young solder saluted and had turned to an area where he could strip of his uniform and place on the woren leathers and the torn tunic as well as a pair of boots. He was not about to look like a weakling in front of a man who had saved him form a good lashing. A sudden sharp pain came from his side and he instinctively placed his hand there, and winced as he bent over slightly...it felt swollen and crusted over with what he could only guess. He brought his hand away slowly and looked down at the blood that covered it. His fingers had felt the gap where the sword had entered during the battle, but there seemed to be hard crusted blood about the wound and it continued to pull at the tunic. Brendyn slowly met Titrus's eyes as the man looked back at him. It all just was not good...
'Sir....I-I went to the medicus like...you said...they-he was ---very busy...more seriously injured he...had to tend to....' Gods above he felt ill, but not just from the fumes. Brendyn caught himself against the wall which he did not care to look at what was on it, but it supported him. The wound on the lower part of his arm brushed against it as he tried to right himself. 'I am fine and I want to carry this punishment out....sir...' He had been able to withhold the fact that his wound had broken open in the dungeons, and maybe he could hide it a bit longer. The pain was severe and Brendyn wondered what it looked like. The soldier tried to look brave as he took some more steps toward the area to change. He whispered, 'Antonius...always told us...nothing short of death...should..keep-keep us from...our duties...' He felt his legs become weak and he went down on one knee and looked at Titrus ashamed. Titrus had lied to save Brendyn from the lashes, and Brendyn thought that if Malcus did not see him here working that Titrus would be questioned again... He did not want to see Titrus in trouble on his behalf... In his mind, all he could see was Tatiana with her coppery hair catching the early morning light and sleeping next to him with peace that he knew only angels had. The greatest part of the day had been watching her awaken and look at him with a smile....just as Veronica had so long ago.... |
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