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May 2008
Topic Started: Mar 18 2010, 02:23 AM (3,621 Views)
golden_trillium

Admin
Author: Unicorn
Date: Mon May 26, 2008 12:52 pm

Dagonet


Dagonet's eyes did not leave Bors's for a longer while waiting
for the question. He saw Bors's mind drift somewhere else for
a moment and Dagonet looked at his leg knowing that it must
hurt his friend very much now.

Bors
 
"We keep going because we must, We keep going because of
all the people who rely on us to protect them - the
women and children, even the poxy Romans. Someone's
gotta watch their fat arses for 'em."


They must. At first Dagonet face was thoughtful and without
any emotion on it... They must keep going. Protect others...
Maybe Bors was right, but in truth Dagonet had failed the
people he protected. He should protect them more securely...
he should look out for Gedeon in the battlefield and never
allow him to climb the wall. He should be there for Bors
during the fight with the Woads... He would not get injured.
Dagonet turned his eyes from Bors and frowned deep in his
thoughts as Bors continued to speak.

Women and children... He had not been able to protect Saoirse
from her past and from the fear of being a mother. Children...
he had not protected his daughter, did not even see her... He
hadn't been strong enough to protect Gedeon from death.
As Bors came to Roman matter and their arses, the tall knight
smirked at it and shook his head. Yes, Bors was the one man to
make him smile, always was.

Dagonet noticed how his friend struggeled to turn his body and
frowned slightly at it. He must be in a lot of pain.

Was he right in this?

Should Dagonet still try to protect others, when he had failed
so many? Should he endure more pain to protect Saoirse....
Should he try to protect her? Would he not fail this time?
Should he reach with his hands towards his own future? His
dream?

Should he try...

Bors
 
"You ok? Really? You gonna be alright?"


Dagonet turned his eyes from Bors and thought at his question
for a moment then looked back at his friend and tried weakly
to smile, but it did not come out completely. It was a broken
smile of a broken heart.

"I've lost my child, Bors" he reminded his friend with a deep
sigh. "Both of them...." he did not recall talking with Bors
about his and Saoirse's daughter, but would gladly do it, if
Bors was up to it. "I am far from being ok, really." he
admitted with a sad sparkle in his eyes. "I... I just feel
lost right now... I don't know Bors... I simply don't know
what to do now." he shook his head sadly and looked deep into
Bors's eyes knowing his friend will understand him. Bors was
the only one, besides Saoirse, who really touched his true
nature and knew him the best.









Mirtha

She was so close to him that time and outside world was
nothing to him now. He was slowly forgeting about every worry
he had in him for the whole morning. He had not hurted her in
any way... She gave herself to him willingly. The mere thought
of it almost broke his heart... First Thorn was willing to
make love with him, but it never came to that.. and now Ione
gave herself to him... Now Ione was so close... Now Ione
wanted to touch him... and he felt her doing so.

Now he wanted to have her again.... To have her body... To
take pleasure from her, but also give her himself.... Give her
pleasure. He wanted to make love with her.

Ione
 
'Than...we...can be...lonely together,'


Lonely together?

Mirtha smiled at this words and let her finger caress his skin
on his back. Lonely together! That was the thing he was
searching for... For having a person, who wasn't perfect and
felt the same way he does. He waited to have somebody like
her.

Ione
 
'Being with someone...you are attracted to makes life
worth living. Like me caring for you gives me something
to care for...friends give one a reason to live and
care...'


Mirtha once more smiled and let his hands smooth her skin on
her shoulders as she unlaced his tunic and touched his skin
gently. His eyes were not leaving her face and he felt so big
urge to hold her thightly to himself. To laugh with happiness
at her words. He wanted this. He had not realised this till
now that he needed somebody.

And all he had in his life was his stinking horse! Who he
loved very much... but still it was a fucking horse after
all!!

He longed to have a woman close to himself. To have somebody
to take care of.

Ione
 
"I am...not perfect...either, Mirtha, and I am alone
like you. When I first met you, I felt attracted to you,
but I was not sure at the time if you'd ever felt the
same...now I know,"


Mirtha felt his body react to her touches and he was listening
to her very loosely... He noticed her blush and this made his
heart jump a little in his exposed chest. His hand went to
brush over her cheek gently as he kissed her neck, but then
his hands came quickly to her breasts and caressed it with
gentleness through the soft material of her dress.

Ione
 
"No, I am not afraid any more..."We have...all
day...Mirtha...what would your pleasure be?'


He heard her moan... He heard her question. Yes... but his
body was not listening... He felt his manhood hardened and he
pulled Ione closer to himself... to feel her upon his chest.
His hands quickly unlaced her dress and let it go down to the
floor. His hands run over her back and felt marks on her.
There was a flashback in the back of his mind of her scars. He
slowly turned her around and pushed her hair out of the way...
Then slowly trace every each of the scars and licked them
after his fingers.

"I want to please you, Ione" he whispered back to her ear and
touched her hips.... grasped them in his strong hands before
leaning slightly over her. His manhood was hard now, but he
could hold on till she was pleased enough to offer herself to
him. "What do you want me to do? Hmmmm....? What would be your
pleasure?"

His finger traced the line from her hip to her breast and
touched gently her nipple to tease her as his kisses went to
her neck.
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: golden_trillium
Date: Mon May 26, 2008 12:54 pm
Tristan


"Mmhhh." That sound was an exhalation, with a barely audible
voicing behind it, as Tristan bent his head and nipped with
his lips at her thumb that had settled on the underside of his
jaw, turning back her earlier action on her, in a way. It
might even have been a playful gesture, had it lingered a bit
longer, or been accompanied by a smile, but as it was it fell
just short of that- it was just an ackknowledgement instead.
Her hand could stay there, though- it felt nice there, in a
way.

And she was ready for him- his fingers between her legs told
him that. He gave her a bit of a rub- just a perfunctory one
to make sure- and then turned his attention to his own pants,
undoing them as quickly as he could with fingers that fumbled
just a little bit- but not very much. He pushed them down just
enough to get them out of the way, scooped Catherine up by her
round bottom and that soft, creamy, conveniently-held-out
thigh, and slid inside her right there, her back against the
door, his weight and her legs around him holding her there. He
ran his hands up her thighs, around to her backside, once more
feeling the round, feminine contours of her, and once she was
settled nicely, he began to thrust, a steady, but not hurried
rhythm to start with. He could feel the pleasure building up
inside him, coiling and tensing itself up in his stomach and
thighs, but he didn't want to rush this- he wanted it to last
for a bit. His breath grew ragged and he buried his face in
her neck once again, mouthing a little at the skin for more of
the feel of her, but really- the main reason why he hid his
face like that was so that she would not see it. To have her
looking right at him while he was doing this...it felt odd,
not right, somehow, and this way he didn't have to see, only
to feel.

The door rattled on its hinges in time to his thrusts, so
Tristan was not even sure how many knocks there had been
before he realized that some of the sound was coming from
outside the room- and just as he realized it, whoever-it-was
emphasized their presence with a shout.

"Sir Tristan? I've a message for you...are you there?"

It was a young voice, a rather hesitant one, no doubt owing to
the rattling, rocking door, but it was also an urgent one, and
Tristan remembered Arthur's words about wanting to ride out
and see Merlin yesterday. Since that hadn't happened, maybe
the expedition had been convened for today...

"Fuck," he growled emphatically in Catherine's ear, ceasing
his movements and turning to the side so that he could at
least open the door a crack. He gave his hips a shake, letting
his manhood slip free of her and indicating silently that she
should drop her legs and stand, but kept his left arm tightly
around her, settled around her waist and holding her bottom in
his palm. His penis was sandwiched against her stomach, aching
for the continuation of what they had been doing, but Tristan
shoved down that instinct and obeyed the other one- albeit
with bad grace.

"What?" He yanked the door open and stuck his head out it,
still standing sideways to the door, and snapping the word at
the page boy who stood there, now backing up a step nervously
at the knight's obvious bad temper.

"Er...Sir, Commander Castus wants you ready to ride out as
soon as you can. You'll be going with the Optio- he'll meet
you at the stables. Sir." The boy added the last title with a
wary look at Tristan's stormy expression, and the scout
suppressed the urge to roll his eyes. He wasn't going to bite
the boy, for God's sake.

"I'll be there," he growled, then shut- nearly slammed- the
door once again, now looking down at Cathering assessingly-
and disappointedly. He really should go right away- shouldn't
waste more time here. Whenever Arthur called, he always obeyed
unquestioningly...but damn it, it wouldn't take but a couple
of minutes more.

"Fuck it," he muttered again, his mind still warring with
itself even as his body, moving seemingly of its own volition,
took steps to insure the completion of what it had wanted for
quite a while now. He wrapped both arms around Catherine,
picking her unceremoniously up off her feet, and carried her
the three steps or so to the bed, where he laid her down with
a bit of a bounce on the straw mattress, pushed her legs
apart, and climbed onto the bed after her, his face a black
scowl as he knelt between her legs.
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: Pinkie
Date: Mon May 26, 2008 1:06 pm
Eala


Eala was nervous of this new cell. It was not as dingy as her
other one - and it was that that made her nervous. She looked
around it with wide black eyes which slowly narrowed as she
went to investigate what looked like a mattress. She kicked it
then lurched back a few steps, narrowed black eyes on the
thing to see it move with devious intent. But it didn't. The
little blonde glanced over her shoulder, gave the bemused
guard a death-glare then went back over to the mattress. She
gave it another prod with her toe and waited.. nothing.

Sniffing, the ten-year old went over to the far wall from the
mattress and slid down against the wall. She was not as afraid
now as she had been earlier -she knew Ash was out there and
she knew that he would not leave her here forever. Eala
glanced down at the doll the shackles man had given her
curiously. She placed it on her bent knees and poked it's
cheek viciously. She then pulled the hair back from the face
and pinched the arms before waggling it around in the air a
while.

What was the bloody point of the damn thing?

Giving up trying to figure out what to do with the doll, Eala
held it to her chest and rested her head on her knees, looking
towards the bars warily. Waiting.

She slept - briefly.

The clatter of the bars opening brought her around and she
scampered, still half asleep, to the far corner, hissing and
snarling like a wild creature as a guard placed a tray of food
and drink down. Eala did not look at the tray until the door
slammed shut, and even then she watched it warily. The doll
was still in her tight right fist and she warily stepped
forward, eyeballing the tray as suspiciously as she had done
the mattress.

The guard was looking in through the bars at her in
fascination. Eala inched towards the tray sideways, glancing
at the door, at the tray, at the door, at the tray. She used
her foot to pull the tray into a more shadowed part of her
cell and sat down with a thump, pulling apart the bread and
dunking it in the jug of water before stuffing it all into her
mouth, chewing noisily, teh doll tucked under her arm and her
black eyes peering over at the guard.
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: sabor ice
Date: Mon May 26, 2008 1:17 pm
Ash


Mari
 
"Oh my goodness this is more complicated than I had
thought!! I am so sorry for pulling you in! Maybe we can
figure a way out together huh? Ok - if you stay there I
might be able to ... crawl over you to ... "


He blithely ignored her, never commenting, and she seemed to
be oblivious to the fact she was speaking for the both of
them. He flexed his hand impatiently, as she wrapped her
slender digits around his offered finger to pull herself up.
His feet were about a foot apart standing ground, but he had
not locked his legs into place. Finally she managed to clamber
to her feet. Ash grimaced and purposefully stepped back, the
distance between them suggesting she had the plague. Suddenly
she slipped and although Ash tried to avoid her tumbling
chaotic mess, he inadvertently and irrevocably became victim
to her clumsiness.

For a moment his body remained half twisted, his fists in the
mud and his face contorted in silent agony against his
forearm. He hissed out a shaky, sharp breath, one hand moving
to hover over his throbbing flank wound. Surely his bindings
had begun to unwind by now. He lifted his head toward Mari,
his eyes black with insufferable hatred. He was in far too
much torment to be baffled by this complicating girl. She was
mad, absolutely stark raving mad, that much was obvious by the
way she cackled like a loon.

Ash's hand twitched anxiously at his thigh, itching to lurch
down to his boot and pull from it his knife to end this
pitiful and maddening creature's life. She shifted over him,
homing unevenly between his lower body and the ground. Her
face was plastered with a dark mass of hair muddied and wet
from the rain. She was a right mess and yet she laughed.

The Woad's arm darted out under Mari's chin, against the
length between her two shoulders, and effortlessly shoved her
off of him. He rolled to the side as she plopped into the mud
where he had just been, and mechanically climbed to his feet,
fists clenched at his sides and features hard. He hunkered
forward and lashed out a hand to grasp the front of Mari's
cloak, effortlessly yanking the girl to her feet. His dark
eyes pierced hers, his face somehow more terrifying than
before as he looked down the length of his nose at her. Anger
boiled up from the very core of him by the second, but it was
far too dangerous for him to do away with this brat in broad
daytime. How infuriating.

"Go," Ash growled under his breath, his hand snapping away
from his hold on her cloak. The syllable had been uttered so
darkly she was sure to immediately cower away in submission.
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: Elessars Girl
Date: Mon May 26, 2008 1:43 pm

Arthur


The Roman attempted to focus with what were now lackluster
green eyes on Lancelot’s dark and dirty features, attempting
to truly ‘see’ the other man now that they had a moment alone.
Lancelot looked dreadful – bloodshot eyes and pale cheeks -
and that only proved to make Arthur feel guilty and distracted
the Commander from what he had needed to speak of. The
Sarmatian had to be in great want of rest before he collapsed
and Arthur would see to it that Lancelot had that rest…even if
he had to give up his own bed to the other man. That thought
had to be shoved away with a slight shake of Arthur’s head and
fingers briskly rubbed over his eyelids as he allowed them to
flutter shut.

However, Lancelot did his own part in helping Arthur to forgo
his notions of care towards the Sarmatian when he opened his
mouth again.

Lancelot
 
"I have plenty to shout about, Commander. The fact that
you're sending someone besides me to see Merlin for one.
The fact that you let that girl live, for two. And the
fact that you haven't seen properly to your own health,
for three. I may not be Rome's officially sanctioned
'Optio,' but I can see what is right before my eyes."


Was that the sound of wounded pride in Lancelot’s voice? Did
the knight truly believe Arthur would be foolish enough to
send him to Merlin?? Arthur snorted his disbelief and angrily
rubbed thick fingers over the lines in his brow ignoring the
other two points completely. Lancelot was at times selfish and
prideful to the point of his own destruction. The Commander
would not risk losing his First Knight and best friend to the
Woad leader again by sending him on the peace mission. Period.
Besides, Scipio with Malcus’ support could manage. Besides,
sending Lancelot to negotiate with Merlin would have been the
equivalent to drenching a bonfire with pitch in hopes of
putting out the blaze. And more to the point, did Lancelot not
understand that Arthur wanted – needed - him here?

Lancelot
 
"I know I was - not exactly smart in my actions toward
Scipio. But Arthur, he is not to be trusted. I can feel
it. Here."


Arthur gazed up at Lancelot with weary hooded eyes while the
other man paced with annoyance in front of him. His green eyes
followed Lancelot’s fist when the Sarmatian thumped his own
chest. His gaze followed Lancelot still as the other man
retrieved a mug of wine from the table. But instead of
drowning his anger with the wine as Arthur had expected,
Lancelot handed the mug to the Roman instead. Arthur accepted
it but did not readily drink.

Lancelot
 
"You must promise me, if I promise you that I will hold
my tongue, to care for yourself. Gods forfend you'd
leave Darya alone."


Darya. Hearing Lancelot speak her name and in that tone
conjured up a tidal wave of emotions that Arthur did not want
to be flooded with at this particular moment. Darya would not
be alone….she would have you, my friend. Perhaps that is the
fate you both share and why I cannot…. Arthur’s head dipped
for a brief moment as he forced his personal demons down
again. His side ached nearly as much as his head throbbed and
Arthur gripped at the wine filled goblet with enough force to
whiten his knuckles. He said nothing…but felt everything.

Lancelot
 
"When the Optio has left here, you will rest. Promise
it. Swear it to me, friend."


Arthur had been aware that Lancelot had once again stood. He
then re-opened his eyes to witness Lancelot falter on his feet
and reached for the knight’s arm just as Lancelot’s hand
grasped on the frame of the chair Arthur occupied. All pains
and aggravations were forgotten as only concern now filled
Arthur’s mind as his fingers gripped at Lancelot’s forearm.

Lancelot
 
"No,"


“Lancelot, you require rest far more than I,” He lied. “And
that is why I sent the Optio and not you,” Arthur continued
while releasing his grip on Lancelot’s arm as the other man
seemed to have steadied himself.

Arthur hissed in discomfort as he twisted his torso, the
stitches tugging at his skin in the motion, to set the goblet
down on the small table to his left. He then recalled
Lancelot’s injury and frowned as he took in the other man’s
appearance again. The borrowed tunic practically hung off
Lancelot’s shoulders, but still managed to conceal the bandage
Neeve had placed over his injured arm.

“I will give my word once you have sworn your own, my friend.
Go to your rest for the remainder of the day. And I expect you
to eat…regain your strength,” Arthur mildly lectured Lancelot
while he reached up to tug at the other man’s loose
tunic…Arthur’s tunic.

“And I expect you to return this to me….without damage….later,
hm?” Arthur added with a hint of mockery although his
expression showed only genuine care. The Commander knew he
need not comment further on Lancelot’s earlier outburst…he
knew his lieutenant understood the importance of minding his
tongue with the Optio. All that remained was whether or not
Lancelot would attempt to go after Merlin again the moment
Arthur’s back was turned. Even as he offered Lancelot placid
green eyes of trust, Arthur was silently planning to order the
dark knight watched until the Commander could recover enough
to do so personally.
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: Pinkie
Date: Mon May 26, 2008 2:39 pm
Catherine


Catherine wanted to smile at Tristan when he nipped her finger
but she knew it would not be received well. So she kept her
expression interested but not amused, looking at her
immaculate thumb buried against the greying hair of his beard
with a peculiar sense of fascination. She was always
fascinated with those men whose lives hung in the balance
every day of their existence. Any moment he could be called up
to go ride out and it would be his last time to be with a
woman, his last time to be touched tenderly, his last time to
feel another person's skin against his...

The whore's thoughts were put to the very furthest reaches of
her mind when the Knight started to tug at the laces of his
breeches. Again he took her by surprise by how ... to the
point he was. The blonde tossed her head to move the hair from
her face and gave a warm shudder of pleasure when his hand
slid along her thigh, his other one cupping her backside
firmly. And then he was inside of her. Catherine's breath
caught in the back of her throat and her eyes shot open wide,
feeling him fill her so unexpectedly. She had not thought he
would be so ... so .... ready!

Catherine shut her green eyes, biting her bottom lip in
surprise as her body adjusted to the feel of him, his
thrusting gentle at first, considerate. Or was he? Was it for
his own pleasure that he went slow at first?

The blonde pulled her head back a little, about to look at his
face to try read what was going on behind his pitch-dark eyes.
But he dipped his head to her neck once the space became
available. Catherine's eyes stayed open, confusion written all
over her unseen expression. It seemed almost tender, the feel
of his lips nipping at her cool, pale skin now and then.

The speed of his thrusts increased - Catherine could feel the
pleasure slowly building inside of herself too, her ankles
hitched in behind Tristan's thighs as she pulled him in
tighter to her with each thrust. Her free arm wound about his
shoulders, her hand sprawled against his shoulder blade. Her
breasts felt sore from rubbing against his tunic, the soft
flesh being bounced around hard as the speed increased - but
it was a thing she could bear, she had done before afterall.

She heard the knock before Tristan. The need to giggle was
almost unbearable as Tristan continued to fuck her without
realising someone was at the door. Or did he and was just
ignoring it?

Tristan & Page boy
 
"Fuck, What?"

"Er...Sir, Commander Castus wants you ready to ride out as soon as you can. You'll be going with the Optio- he'll meet you at the stables. Sir."

"I'll be there, Fuck it,"


Catherine's legs felt wobbly and weak when Tristan placed her
back on her feet. She gave a wry grin, dipping her head as he
yanked the door open. She lifted her hand to her hair,
twirling it around one slender digit whilst suppressing the
urge to laugh at the situation. The hand about her waist,
holding her to him, felt rather possessive. Catherine found
herself wondering if that was because he had paid for her
services and so considered her to be 'his' until he had gotten
what he wanted... ? Or was it something else entirely?
It was a gentle gesture though, an intimate gesture, one that
made the heat in the pit of her stomach increase. It felt
nice. She wished her job could involve more of that rather
than the other. The intimate moments, the holding hands, the
caressing of hair, the kisses to her shoulders. Gestures that
had nothing to do with sex.

She heard Tristan being ordered away and heard his gruff,
annoyed response that he would be there. Without thinking,
Catherine's head whipped around, her big green eyes on the
Scout's troubled face as he shut the door.

She immediately dropped her eyes, a sheepish smile on her lips
as she waited for more instructions.

Tristan's utterance of 'fuck it' was met with a stifled giggle
as Catherine was lifted up by his strong, lean arms and
carried to the bed. There was excitement inside of her now, a
burning want to finish this because he was willing to put his
duty to one side for the pleasure she could offer.

The blonde parted her legs and placed her hand back on
Tristan's neck, her lips parted as she lifted her face to his,
her mouth hovering close to his a moment, her eyes shut. But
she did not kiss him, instead she dipped her head and brushed
her soft lips against the furthest reaches of his neck that
she could caress from that angle. HE slid inside of her again
and Catherine moaned, her other hand clasping his
shoulderblade now. Her hips lifted as his descended, their
bodies clashing in mid-air, the pace increasing, pleasure
intensifying, heat rising until finally --

"Oh!" Catherine tried to be quiet, it seemed Tristan's habit
to be quiet after all, but the utterance could not be helped.
She felt the sweat seep from her pores from the exertion, the
quick 'fuck' that she had come to love from men giving her a
sharp and pleasureable orgasm that thrummed through her body
now, tightening her body around Tristan's stiff and throbbing
cock inside of her. It took a moment for her to realise that
he had finished too, their timing impeccable.

The blonde's arms fell backwards, draped out above her head as
she sighed, shutting her green eyes and letting her head loll
backwards on the mattress. Her heels remained embedded in
Tristan's thighs but they no longer pressed inwards, they just
rested there, her legs feeling too worn out to be moved right
now. Trying to steady her breath, Catherine moved a shaky hand
to Tristan's neck and smiled, her unfocussed eyes looking
about his face knowing he would be leaving soon and he might
not come back.

Oh it was not sadness or worry that had her think such a thing
- it was fact, wasn't it? She just couldn't imagine someone
with so much life and vitality in them lying dead and yet that
was what this man was destined for. Like Gawain.









Kolya

It said enough about Kolya's character that he didn't even
notice that Alina was crying. Would he have stopped this if he
did know she was crying? Probably so. He was a bastard - but
he wasn't a totally unfeeling bastard after all. And despite
the cruel way he was going about things, the Sarmatian really
did harbour feelings for the woman. He would not admit it - oh
gods no - and once he figured it out he would, no doubt, run a
mile.

Alina
 
"So, what do you want? A round of applause? I don't want
you,"


Kolya gave a wry grin at her, sliding his hand up her back a
fraction and then back down again, waiting for a reaction. But
.. it wasn't coming.

Something was starting together in his head. Something was
happening here that had not happened in a long, long time.
Kolya cocked his head to the side, his hand falling from
Alina's body as a cross look took over his features and he
took a step backwards.

"Fuck me - you do, don't you?" he said in disbelief, realising
now that she was crying, realising now that she did want him
no matter that she said she did not. He realised that he
wanted her too but that was fucking impossible. Disastrous and
impossible. This had been a bit of fun, nothing serious. For
him. He had shown her a good time and made her realise that
there was more to life than the rubber-necked goody-too-good
lifestyle that Galahad had offered her.

He couldn't let her know he felt the same though. Kolya's
stunned expression changed too quickly and he lifted a hand to
stroke his bearded jaw, feeling the beads of water come
together and slicked them off his face before raking that same
hand back through his longish hair - grinning, though there
was a tightnesss to his narrowed blue eyes.

"Listen, sweetheart ..." Kolya stepped forward, reaching a
hand to her cheek again, feeling brave, "Girls always go for
the bad boys, the ones who are no good for them. You don't
need to beat yourself up over this. Go back to your boyfriend
- but when you want to feel like you're alive again then don't
hesitate to come to me, alright?" he said confidently,
quietly, almost sweetly, smiling at her.

There - that sounded right. It meant that it would only be sex
between them. Ever. Nothing more. He didn't want, or need,
more.
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golden_trillium

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Author: lady ione
Date: Mon May 26, 2008 5:36 pm
Ione


The exhilarating feel of his warm breath on her neck made Ione
shiver, her hands moving over his partially exposed chest,
slowly moving the tunic further until it rested about his
waist. The young weaver saw Mirtha smile as she left his tunic
fall. There had been something about Mirtha, even while she
had promised her heart to Javier, that made her curious as to
why he attracted her. She never dreamed that he'd ever be
attracted to her. Was it his wild nature? Or just the air of
freedom that drifted about him? The feeling of safety and
warmth that flowed from Mirtha...feeling his strong body close
to hers. The scent of him aroused her softly and gently.
Ione's hands ran lightly over his bare chest letting them rub
open palmed over his hard nipples, then over the taut muscles
of his upper torso. Ione had loved Javier very much, but she
never felt like he was totally hers...that his connections to
wealth, war, his father, and the Church all seemed to have
that invisible wedge driven between them. With Mirtha, Ione
felt freer to be herself, and not worry about if she was
perfect or not...

As his hand brushed over her blushing cheeks, Ione's heart
raced. What she thought she had wanted in a man had turned out
to be the wrong choice. Javier had been the perfect man for
her and everything she had dreamed of...but perhaps too
perfect. Mirtha was like herself in that they were both far
from perfect, poor as church mice, and were looking for that
love that came from the heart...not from material things. Her
back arched as his hands moved to her breasts under her dress
making her moan and squirm a bit under the touch.
'Mirtha...oh...gods....more please...' She whimpered with need
as she felt Mirtha's fingers undo the laces of her dress,
letting it fall to the floor, his fingers running over the
scars on her back. Ione had been afraid to let him see the
scars as she was sure they'd trun him off, but instead, he
didn't seem to be bothered by them. With his hands on her
shoulders, Mirtha had turned her around and pushed the long
dark auburn hair out of the way. Lightly tracing the scars
first with his fingers than his tongue, Ione moaned bending
her head gracefully to the side. Ione reached back a hand to
where Mirtha's leather belt was, but just ran the hand over
his hips and the front of him feeling the bulge through his
trousers...

Mirtha
 
I want to please you, Ione" "What do you want me to do?
Hmmmm....? What would be your pleasure?"


His hands rested on her hips now as he spoke into her ear.
Ione could feel his hardness against her back side...his
fingers touching her skin sending shivers over her body.
'I..asked first....,' Ione could barely get the teasing line
out as she began to work at his belt, her back still toward
him, then letting the pants fall to the floor. Soft fingers
ran lightly over his thighs and hips while he licked and
touched her scars...then traced a line from her slender hips
to her breasts. She gasped. Beads of sweat had begun to form
on her body, her breath quickening. Wicked thoughts that had
never arisen, now appeared in Ione's mind. Moving him toward
the bed as they continued to touch, Ione guided Mirtha to sit
on the edge of the mattress. Looking into the eyes of the man
before her, Ione knelt down slightly, and began to move like a
cat, giving his legs tiny licks tasting the sweat on his skin,
working her way up to his thighs, then moved to straddle him
so that she was kneeling over his hard length, but she didn't
lower herself onto it, but instead said, 'I want you to
explore me very slowly so that you know every inch of
me...then I want you to teach me what pleases you...'









Vanora

Linnette
 
"No...no, I really have to do this, and it won't take
long."


Well, Vanora had to hand it to Linnette: she was persistant
even while grieving for her loss. Though Vanora liked this
persistance, there were times when one needed to take time and
get things in order especially when that person's life had
taken a tragic turn. Linnette had more important things to do
than the ledger. Vanora made a mental note to herself to write
in a raise for Linnette even if things were tight...even a few
coin raise was better than none, and every bit helped. As
Vanora watched the young woman make a note concerning Thorn,
Vanora still wondered where Adian had run off to, and hoped
that he was alright. He had taken the news of his future
wife's death very hard. So many needless deaths...so many
battles. Everytime a battle arose, that same fear of losing
Bors entered her mind...What would she do, and where would she
go if he ever died?

Linnette
 
"They need the room because the barracks was badly
damaged, apparently," "And Arthur knows. I'm pretty
sure."


Vanora could not believe what she was hearing. Surely not ALL
of the barracks were that damaged that the Optio had to start
kicking people, especially widows, out of their rooms. She had
not met this Optio up close, but already she did not like him.
''Are there rooms in the servant's quarters that you could
stay for the time being...at least until you found something
better..." Vanora paused for a moment, then said, "With such a
kind man as Arthur, I am sure he'll do all he can for you,
Linnette." The red head had never known Arthur to have a mean
bone in his body. He did so much for everyone at the fort,
that she had no doubt that he'd do everything in his power to
see that Linnette was taken care of just like he did all of
the rest that lived within Badon's walls.
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golden_trillium

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Author: Lancelot
Date: Mon May 26, 2008 5:48 pm
Lancelot


Lancelot's feet seemed to wrap around themselves, forcing
himself to falter as he grabbed for Arthur's chair - and damn
it, of course the other man saw it, and snagged Lancelot's
forearm with his own grip.

Could have been responsible...for his death. Could have ...
could have been left alone ... alone, in this pisshole. With
that Optio.

Arthur
 
“Lancelot, you require rest far more than I, and that is
why I sent the Optio and not you. I will give my word
once you have sworn your own, my friend. Go to your rest
for the remainder of the day. And I expect you to
eat…regain your strength. And I expect you to return
this to me….without damage….later, hm?”


Lancelot snorted and when Arthur released his arm, rubbed both
hands over his face. He had no fear in showing his exhaustion
to this man - but that didn't mean he had to like it.

The borrowed tunic slipped and slid under his vest, and
Lancelot cursed and laughed at Arthur's comment. He also moved
away from the Roman's reach, suddenly not wanting Arthur so
close. It was disconcerting and the knight did not feel he
could deal with any more emotion at this juncture. His stomach
burned and his eyes were dry and his mouth was far too empty
of wine. And Arthur was lying to him, lying about the
serverity of his own wound in order to get Lancelot to agree
to behaving.

He took a step toward the door, but turned back and rested his
hands on his narrow hips - if only to hold up his horrid, old,
holey leathers. Fucking things - the last thing Lancelot
wanted to spend his measely coin on was clothing. Perhaps he
could find some hand me downs in the stores - Tor had been
about his size. And Tor was dead, so Lancelot was certain the
other Sarmatian wouldn't mind sharing his things.

"I will hold my tongue. Even if you lie to me to keep me here
- I bound your wound, remember?" He cocked an arch eyebrow at
the commander, but was too weary to really follow through on
his veiled threat. "Arthur...that Optio had best be certain he
uses as much tact as possible with the Magician. I of course
would not hesitate to slice his head off - unless of course,
you directed me not to," he added quickly, his gaze all
innocence and long lashes. "I just - I do not trust Scipio as
far as I could throw him, but I also don't want any man to die
for no reason. Especially at the hands of that blue bastard.
Even if it is the 'official' second."

Lancelot flushed at his bitchy words - he really needed to let
that pride and embarrassment go. But looking into Arthur's
eyes, all he could see was the history between them,
Lancelot's rare and unwavering loyalty, and all the things the
Sarmatian had done for the other man - for love and for
friendship.

Yes, for love. He could not deny that any more than he could
deny breathing - but there were different kinds of love in the
world, and just admitting that he loved his friend didn't
mean....

The optio would be here soon. Lancelot pointed at the wine
he'd handed Arthur. "Drink that, Artos. It is watered, so you
don't have to worry about holding your liquor."

Arthur's childhood name rolled easily off his tongue. Why now?
Why now, damn it? It has been a long time. Too long by far. A
small ache wormed its way into Lancelot's body, filling the
holes that his pain had left behind and his overly shielded
heart. A gnawing desire for contact shook him almost to the
core - even after he had made a point of getting away from the
other man.

He'd have to go see some of the girls in the tavern, later.
Maybe more than one. And that wasn't love, by the gods own
teeth. That was just contact, and a type of contact wherein
Lancelot didn't owe anyone anything afterward except money.
That - he could spare. For the price of sex - to get rid of
his annoying and painful need for touch - that he would spare
in spades.

He smiled briefly, and cocked his head back and forth, working
out the kinks. By Hadrian's balls, he was dead on his feet.

Dead, for lack of the lieutenant's swords.

"I shall promise one thing, and that is to rest after the
others have been seen to. Fair?"
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Author: linnet
Date: Mon May 26, 2008 7:29 pm
Mother Lavinia


Lavinia was half surprised that the girl listened patiently,
without making a face of boredom or annoyance. She seemed to
be a very polite gentle young lady. So much more the pity that
she was already involved with a soldier.

Tatiana
 
"He had something that he needed to get done once he was
feeling well enough to be allowed to leave here. I know
that he's a soldier and they lead dangerous lives, but
he's a friend and he really didn't mean to make me
cry, it just happened that was just the end result of
what he told me when he was laying on the cot.”


Well, it was hopeless. Lavinia hadn’t really expected anything
else. The girl had no anger toward him for making her cry,
only excuses, and the dreadful ‘he really didn’t mean to’
rationalization. Lavinia just shook her head sadly and let the
woman continue.

Tatiana
 
"There were a bunch of farmers back home, but none of
them were that interesting, since none of them really
caught my eye in that way. If there are, I've either not
met any here or none of them caught my eye, besides
isn't a merchant's life as dangerous as a soldier's
anyway? With all of the travelling that they have to do"


Lavinia raised her eyes heavenward in frustration. So, the
soldier had ‘caught her eye’ where farmers had failed. Was
that what the young people were calling it these days? The nun
suspected that more than the girl’s eye had been caught. And
frankly, who could blame her for succumbing to the lure of a
handsome man in a uniform, and the excitement of getting
involved with someone whose life was full of adventure and
danger. At such a young age, who wouldn’t prefer a dashing
soldier to a solid farmer? All the warnings and good advice in
the world weren’t going to change this girl’s mind.

Tatiana
 
"I really appreciate your advice, Ma'am, but I think
that I'll stay on my chosen course with the soldier."


‘I’ve already figured that out,” the old woman said with a
hint of smile in her sharp eyes. “You’re a nice young lady,
and for your sake I hope I’m wrong. But I’m usually not. Go,
chase after your soldier.” She dismissed the girl with a flick
of her hand, then added, “If he makes you cry again, tell him
he’ll have to deal with Lavinia.” The nun started once again
toward her office, looking all around for any other business
she might want to poke her nose into.
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Author: golden_trillium
Date: Mon May 26, 2008 7:36 pm
Tristan


Tristan rolled off Catherine with a low groan of completion,
the only sound he had uttered during their quick, rough
coupling- even his climax had been accompanied only by a
silent catch of breath and a tense squeezing shut of his eyes
as all the rest of his muscles spasmed pleasurably, too. Now,
he lay for a moment, his body touching the woman’s all along
their sides, though he did not put his arms around her or
anything like that. He blinked, focusing his gaze on the
ceiling beams, his breathing almost immediately slowing back
to normal- and then turned his head to look at her. He was
rather surprised to see that she was peering back at him
curiously. What for? And…she had climaxed, hadn’t she? The
thought had not occurred to Tristan at all during the act, but
now that he had leisure to consider it, he was pretty sure it
was true. He sat up, blinking again and looking down at her
with a wry twist of his lips.

“You’re easy to please,” he snorted softly, but his voice was
not unkind, and it even contained a hint of a laugh as he
stood up and began to haul up his pants, which had settled
awkwardly down around his ankles, as he had never taken them
completely off. Not very dignified, and he found himself
turning his head away and avoiding her eyes as he worked on
the laces. He had to go- and he had to see her out of the room
first, as he didn’t want her there when he was not.

“Sorry for the rush,” he apologized sheepishly, sneaking a
look at her again under a screen of hair that had fallen in
front of his eyes. Now that his pants were in place, one hand
snuck out, almost hesitantly, to the coins he had already
placed on the table and pushed them a fraction closer to her.











Linnette

Vanora
 
'Are there rooms in the servant's quarters that you
could stay for the time being?...at least until you find
something better...with such a kind man as Arthur, I am
sure he'll do all he can for you, Linnette."


“I suppose so,” Linnette shrugged, more in response to the
first statement than the second- because she just wasn’t going
to complain to Arthur about this, no matter what Vanora seemed
to think he would or would not do. And the servants’ quarters
above the kitchens were indeed a good possibility as a place
for her to stay- and certainly more fitting to her current
status than the knights’ quarters, since she no longer shared
her bed with a knight. Blinking back the tears that hovered in
the corners of her eyes again, Linnette lowered her gaze and
idly adjusted the edge of the bandage over her left hand. It
needed no tweaking, really- Drake had done a fine, tight job.
Turning her attention briefly to the other one, she adjusted
Vanora’s handkerchief over the scratched palm- it might make
writing easier if she used something to cushion it.

“Er…can I keep this for a bit? I’ll give it back to you when
I’m finished here,” Linnette looked up at Vanora questioningly
and indicated the handkerchief in her palm with the other,
bandaged hand.
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golden_trillium

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Author: linnet
Date: Mon May 26, 2008 8:29 pm

Gawain


Galahad
 
"Dag? What are you talking about? Or what? I've not even
been to see Dagonet yet. And nothing's wrong, alright? I
was just bored and thought I'd.. ya know ... catch up."


The blond knight’s tension eased when he understood that
Galahad hadn’t sought him out to inform him of some crisis. “I
was afraid you had something awful to tell me,” he said. “I
thought maybe Dag or Arthur… You looked like you’d just gotten
bad news.” Gawain narrowed his blue eyes to study his friend.
Something was definitely wrong. And this wasn’t just one of
the young knight’s quiet, brooding, leave me alone moods.
Something had him upset. He was nervous, almost twitchy. He
wasn’t withdrawing, but he avoided looking directly at Gawain
for more than a quick glance.

Gawain wasn’t about to ask Galahad again what was wrong. It
had to be something personal, he realized, and he wouldn’t pry
or try to force an explanation. Gawain had his own problem
that he didn’t want to talk about. He’d lay off Galahad, but
be ready to lend an ear if and when his friend felt like
talking.

Now that Galahad was standing next to him, the long-haired
knight was surprised that the other man’s presence felt
welcome. He’d been certain that he didn’t want to run into his
friends. He had wanted to avoid the Brianna situation, he
thought. But he couldn’t run from it forever. His friends had
to be told what a fuckup he was in her eyes. What scared him
was what their reactions would be. Gawain wasn’t sure that
telling Galahad would be a good idea, since the younger man
had his own problems it seemed. Maybe he would, maybe he’d
wait. But at least he felt ready to face it.

For a short time Gawain just stood next to Galahad, both men
looking out at the incessant rain. “I was on my way to the
infirmary to ask about Dag,” he finally said, turning toward
his friend. “Come along? Put your hood up, if you do. You look
like a drowned rat.” He smiled familiarly, hoping Galahad
would tag along as usual.
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Author: sabor ice
Date: Mon May 26, 2008 10:56 pm
Alina


Kolya
 
"Fuck me - you do, don't you? Listen, sweetheart
...Girls always go for the bad boys, the ones who are no
good for them. You don't need to beat yourself up over
this. Go back to your boyfriend - but when you want to
feel like you're alive again then don't hesitate to come
to me, alright?"


The realization had seemed to come to her and then him
simultaneously, but she hadn't noticed the stunned look he
harbored for she was too wrapped up in her own dilemma. In the
beginning their relationship had not had this confusion, this
disarray of feeling. Alina wondered just when it had been that
she had crossed the line between healer and patient? When had
the line between friends and lovers been blurred so? The
fault, she felt, could only lie within herself. Kolya had been
the pursuer, that much was true, but Alina had always had the
option of saying 'no.' He had offered her a way out, a
different path to follow, and she had elected to take it - she
had not been forced. She had known from the very beginning
what she was doing despite the denial, and yet she had allowed
it to persist.

This was all on her. This was her doing. Alina hadn't earned
the right to be the one to run away or to crawl inside herself
and disappear. The only thing she had conceived from this
entire situation was the prospect of choice. She could choose
to be with Galahad, or she could choose to be with Kolya. She
saw no room for in between, and yet it was an impossible
decision. Somewhere along the way, Alina had irrevocably
chosen both of them. She was hopelessly dead-locked, the
victim of a vicious impasse.

Silently, Alina tentatively stepped forward and pressed her
forehead into Kolya's chest, her arms shooting under his and
around his back, her hands curling about his shoulders. Then,
without preamble she turned away, her footsteps feverish
against the ground as she hurried through the rain again. She
had to see Galahad.
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golden_trillium

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Author: Elessars Girl
Date: Tue May 27, 2008 7:46 am

Arthur


Arthur watched Lancelot step towards the door. He was so
familiar with how the other man moved that he could easily
detect Lancelot’s exhaustion in the way his typically fluid
stride was hindered by it. Lancelot was vulnerable right now
even if the dark knight refused to see it himself. And oddly
enough, Arthur found himself frowning over the poor state of
his lieutenant’s clothing…with the exception of his borrowed
tunic. His gaze noted how the other man’s worn leathers easily
slid lower on his hips as Lancelot turned to face Arthur. He
deserves better than this….life.

The Commander released a mild groan in weariness and scrubbed
a hand over his stubbled throat flinching slightly as the tip
of his finger brushed over a cut beneath his chin. His other
hand seemed permanently fixed to the spot over his stitches.

Lancelot
 
"I will hold my tongue. Even if you lie to me to keep me
here - I bound your wound, remember?"


“Yes…and perhaps if that is enough to keep you safely within
these walls, then I shall continue to lie to you,” Arthur
answered quietly yet with conviction as he met Lancelot’s
challenging dark eyes.

Lancelot
 
"Arthur...that Optio had best be certain he uses as much
tact as possible with the Magician. I of course would
not hesitate to slice his head off - unless of course,
you directed me not to. I just - I do not trust Scipio
as far as I could throw him, but I also don't want any
man to die for no reason. Especially at the hands of
that blue bastard. Even if it is the 'official' second."


Arthur regarded Lancelot closely while the other man continued
to have his say on the matter of the mission; anger and
frustration easily visible to the Roman who knew the Sarmatian
better than anyone. Arthur found himself wanting to sooth away
the other man’s irritants….but the Roman remained still and
silent unwilling to make this moment more intimate than it
already was. That was no longer possible between us. Although,
Lancelot’s use of his expressive eyes and long eyelashes did
not go unnoticed by Arthur either. The knight could still
manipulate the Roman in ways that no other person could. But
no matter how or what Lancelot would attempt right now to
persuade Arthur to let him go on this mission….he would not
succeed. Arthur was determined to keep Lancelot here within
the fortress walls and keep him safe. While Scipio appeared to
be a fine Roman officer, the man was still expendable compared
to Lancelot…at least for Arthur. ‘Official’ second in command
or not. And why had Lancelot continued to mention that
particular point? Did he not know Arthur’s opinion on that
matter by now?

Lancelot
 
"Drink that, Artos. It is watered, so you don't have to
worry about holding your liquor. I shall promise one
thing, and that is to rest after the others have been
seen to. Fair?"


Arthur’s hand moved to retrieve the mug of watered down wine
to appease Lancelot. And there is was again…the ache in his
chest at hearing Lancelot address him with such intimate
familiarity….as if they had remained more than….. I cannot
give him what he needs any more than he can give it to me.

“Then we have an accord, my friend,” Arthur lifted the mug as
if in salute and then touched the vessel to his dry lips;
emerald eyes never left Lancelot’s dirty angular face as he
drank.

“Do not concern yourself with Scipio. Malcus and Tristan will
see to it that my orders are carried out and Merlin dealt with
properly. We will speak later tonight once we have both
rested, hm?” Arthur finished, allowing the corner of his mouth
to slightly twist upwards. He was clearly dismissing Lancelot
for now as he hoped to give the knight the opportunity to
‘not’ cross paths with Scipio who he expected to return at any
moment now.
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golden_trillium

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Author: Eledhwen
Date: Tue May 27, 2008 8:42 am
Bors


Dagonet
 
"I've lost my child, Bors. Both of them.... I am far
from being ok, really. I... I just feel lost right
now... I don't know Bors... I simply don't know what to
do now.


Bors knew of Saoirse's selfish act, and not for the first time
his heart twisted in anger at the thought of her taking away
this man's child. What would Bors have done if Vanora had
chosen to not allow him to meet any of his children? He would
have killed her - twisted her fragile neck and watched the
life leave her beautiful eyes. It was no woman's place to
prevent a father loving his child, especially now, for
Dagonet, with his only son dead...

He met the younger knight's gaze sadly for a long moment,
considering his reply. Truth be told Bors did not know what to
do either. He felt for Dagonet, felt his loss as though it
were his own, perhaps the only one of the knights who could
know what it felt like to lose a child. Even though all his
children had thankfully been healthy, he could still feel that
tug of fear whenever any were hurt, or lost, or in danger.

But he could not allow Dagonet to wallow in his misery, not
with Saoirse absent. The wild Irish woman was the only other
person Dag would listen to, and she wasn't here to help in,
not when it counted. Where was she? Wallowing in her own
misery no doubt, selfish whore. Bors grit his teeth.

"We carry on fighting Dag," he replied forceably, "that's what
you do. We carry on fighting the bastard Woads and in five
years we go home with our heads held high, knowing we've done
our bit for the bastard Romans. Then..."

He didn't continue. He had been going to say, then they could
find Dag another woman, a good woman, without a selfish,
thoughtless bone in her body, with whom he could have more
children, more than Bors if he wanted. But he couldn't say
that. Whatever he himself thought of Saoirse at that moment he
knew Dag loved her and always would. That was the way of it -
there was nothing Bors could do.
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Author: Starbelle
Date: Tue May 27, 2008 12:51 pm
Tatiana


Mother Lavina
 
‘I’ve already figured that out,”“You’re a nice young
lady, and for your sake I hope I’m wrong. But I’m
usually not. Go, chase after your soldier.” “If he makes
you cry again, tell him he’ll have to deal with
Lavinia.”


"Thank you, Ma'am." Tatiana replied polietly. "Yes, ma'am.
I'll relay your message to him for you." She commented to the
old nun nodding at her polietly before leaving the infirmary
heading toward the tavern for a plate or a bowl of something
to eat before continuing down to the stables to get some work
done and hopefully still be able to meet Brendyn down at the
baths.

Lavina gave me a good bit of advice to think about. I'm glad
that she did though.
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