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| May 2008 | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Mar 18 2010, 02:23 AM (3,619 Views) | |
| golden_trillium | Mar 23 2010, 06:38 PM Post #331 |
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Author: Starbelle Date: Wed May 28, 2008 6:57 pm Jols After stabling the Knights' horses in the stables and grabbing something to eat, Jols was heading down to the herbalry from the tavern when he caught sight of Lancelot. "Lancelot, have you decided on a name for your mount yet?" The Squire asked the First Knight once he caught up to him. "I named him Shadow, while I was working on him as I couldn't just call him horse." He commented. "I've not yet had a chance to look in on either Dag or Derfel." "Have you gotten a chance to grab something to eat?" Jols queried the Dark Knight curiously. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 23 2010, 06:40 PM Post #332 |
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Author: lady ione Date: Thu May 29, 2008 8:03 am Brendyn It was not something that he'd write down in his day's end journal, nor anything that he'd write home about later, but cleaning the latrines had to be one of the most humbling experiences of his young career so far. After gagging and vomiting up the breakfast and lunch he knew he had not had yet, Brendyn and the other servant had begun to clean the toilets as well as the walls surrounding the enclosure as best as they could. Sometime into his duties, the young man could not figure out why the other man could do such a job, and the servant had laughed heartily and said that he could not smell anything due to an illness complete with a stuffy nose.... Brendyn could only wish for such an illness. He had aquired some sort of cleaner, a sort of soapy solution, and a stiff cleaning brush, and used a bit of muscle to scrub the filthy walls as best as he could, tossed out the murky water, then re scrubbed the walls. Germs and other diseases were caught a lot of the time from such areas, so the cleaner they were, the better. After going to vomit again, Brendyn went back to where he had scrubbed the walls. They looked a sight better than they had. Satisfied, he went to help his new friend with scrubbing the rims of the toilets. His stomach rumbled in protest, but he had to make up for lost time due to his wound needing to be restitched. With a guilty pang, he thought back to how he had left Tatiana with the nun who's name he still did not know... Veronica The memory of his former lover came into his mind: Her tan complexion, pale rosy cheeks, deep dark eyes, and long raven black hair. Brendyn still hoped that someday their paths would meet again.... |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 23 2010, 06:42 PM Post #333 |
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Author: Darya Date: Thu May 29, 2008 9:43 am Darya The warm soup felt good, Darya had to admit this. It had certainly been the right thing to come here to the tavern to get something to eat. And while the Sarmatian slowly emptied the bowl, her she subtly watched the other people in the room. It was not overly crowded, which she was grateful for…and which made it much easier to keep an eye on everyone. Who knew…perhaps there were still a few Woads sneaking about the Fort…except for that woman Arthur, Lancelot and Scipio had discussed about earlier. The dark-haired wrinkled her nose and finished with the last bit of the soup… Then Darya just leaned back, lightly clasped both her hands around the mug of tea and pondered if she should go to the weaver’s shop to ask Ione for the new clothes already…or if she should perhaps go and take a proper bath. The latter sounded pretty tempting… Pursing her lips in though, the woman lifted her gaze from the mug in her hands for a moment… …which almost immediately fell on another person entering the tavern (Cáel). Darya tilted her head a little and assessed the man. He looked…rather strange. Very pale…with an odd white streak in his otherwise black hair. He had to be new to the Fort. Definitely. The female Sarmatian was sure that she would remember him if she had seen him before. Lifting the mug slowly to her lips to take a sip of tea, the woman allowed her gaze to linger on the stranger a bit longer… He was no Woad, was he? |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 23 2010, 06:43 PM Post #334 |
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Author: Pinkie Date: Thu May 29, 2008 4:07 pm Mari Oh to be as oblivious!! Mari was flinching from a gust of icy cold rain that came her way when Ash started to reach down for the knife in his boot - she saw nothing suspect in his actions and she still held out a hope that she could repay him for helping her out of the water. And to console him in having ruined his clothes in the process. However, the slosh of feet behind her got her attention. She glanced briefly over her shoulder and back to Ash, then her head whipped back around and she smiled from ear to ear, an adoring smile, as Milan came to her side. The girl parted her lips to laugh and tell Milan what had happened but he was glowering quite viciously at the man who had helped her. Mari's brows twitched down into a brief frown as she looked at her rescuer. He was laughing, it seemed. Milan's hand on her elbow made Mari gasp and she looked up at him, feeling like the world was beginning to spin around her. What was going on? What had she missed? Milan looked upset - Mari reached a hand around his waist, tucking herself in under his arm and looked back across at Ash. "I .. I fell in the muck and couldn't get up - " she explained, glancing up at Milan and finding it in herself to grin impishly, embarrassed, "I accidentally pulled this man in with me when he tried to save me. Very clumsy of me ..." Mari said with a wry chuckle, ducking her head a moment as another gust of cold, icy rain splattered against her pale face. She narrowed her eyes to slits as she looked at Ash, smiling lopsided, adoreable as her hand slid across Milan's lower back searching for his arm to touch and assure him that it was ok. "Maybe.. maybe another time? I can repay you for your kindness?" she said hopefully, batting her eyelashes out of habit rather than seduction. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 23 2010, 06:44 PM Post #335 |
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Author: Lancelot Date: Thu May 29, 2008 6:00 pm Lancelot The rain should have been cooking on Lancelot's hot, red face - he was so, so angry. At himself, at his idiocy, at his allowing himself to forget his own weapons in Arthur's quarters. Because of Arthur. Because Lancelot allowed himself to be distracted and acted like a fool. He was plowing headlong toward the quarters, and almost missed Arthur's way too cheerful squire when the other man spoke.
Lancelot blinked at the other man. "My goodness, man, you're a bit talky today, aren't you?" He eyed the sky and allowed his expression to close in - his face taking on that certain cast it did when he was guarding himself and his thoughts. "The horse is to be called Diabolus. Thought that appropriate, considering who gave him to me." Lancelot snorted, and pointedly looked at the weather again. "I'm to see Dag after I retrieve my swords - and for the gods own sake, Jols, I shall eat when I have time. Do me a favor though - let Dagonet know I'll see him shortly?" Snugging the borrowed leathers up over his shoulder again, Lancelot turned and strode away before the squire could ask yet more questions. Arthur certainly had encouraged the man to be open. He laughed to himself, and had to jump to avoid tripping over a dropped piece of tack. "Fucking Romans - who else would leave a perfectly good bit in the mud?" He muttered to himself, his anger fueling his exhausted body for the rest of the walk he had. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 23 2010, 06:50 PM Post #336 |
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Author: Starbelle Thu May 29, 2008 7:10 pm Jols
"I suppose, I guess I'm just making up for the time spent on the road." Jols commented. The Squire nodded when he heard the name that the First Knight had chosen for his horse and his reasoning behind the name choice. "Yes, Lancelot. I'll tell him when I see him." He replied to the retreating form of Arthur's Second as he continued on his own path towards the infirmary to see how his fellow knights were doing. Reaching the infirmary, the Squire walked through the open doorway and glancing around saw a nun sitting at a desk and after nodding a greeting to her with his head, walked over to the bed that Dagonet lay on. Heading over to the bench, Jols sat down on it and rested his clasped hands on the bed, being careful not to jar the cot too much in case his friend was asleep as he didn't want to disturb his rest. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 23 2010, 06:51 PM Post #337 |
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Author: LadyCastus Date: Fri May 30, 2008 7:16 am Mona Mona wasn’t happy with the way things were going already. Connell taking off like that was a dangerous move and could have exposed their mission before it had even gotten started. What would Merlin think? They were better off without him, though. His loyalty to Merlin was blurred and in Mona’s mind, if he was successful in rescuing Neeria, that would keep both of them busy, thereby making it easier for Mona to get rid of Guinevere. “We must find a secure place where we will be undetected, princess. With your disguise, you should be able to move freely and gather any information you can. I will …” Mona suddenly stopped talking and crouched lower against the wall. She peered into the distance, squinting her eyes. She saw the shadow of man, huddled against a building across the commons. The rain was coming down heavily again and visibility was poor but there was something very familiar about the man. Mona suddenly recognized the man. “Guinevere!” she whispered loudly. “It’s Ash!” she said pointing in his direction. Their woad counterpart was lurking in passageway. Mona adjusted the gear on her back again, securing it on her person. She checked their surroundings again making sure it was safe to move. She motioned to Guinevere and then scrambled across the distance between she and Ash. The woad male was covered in muck and visibly agitated. Mona fell in beside him, breathless. “Ash! Where are they? Have you found them yet?” she asked, wide-eyed. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 23 2010, 06:52 PM Post #338 |
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Author: lady ione Date: Fri May 30, 2008 9:50 am Vanora Vanora smiled as Linnette accepted her hug hoping that in some way it would give her comfort. She wanted to stay longer with the young woman, but two things prevented her from doing so: The fact that Linnette might have wanted to be alone, and the other, that there were still customers that needed to be served...
As they parted the embrace, Linnette had gestured to the coins Vanora had placed on the table. "I figure that even those who are well off deserve a raise for the work they do, Linnette. I give my other workers raises when they preform well, and you are no exception..." The red head smiled at her friend. Some how, she had recalled some such mission that the knights, Arthur and Linnette had taken to her estate...still, as long as Linnette worked as her accountant, then she'd get paid. Fair was fair, and Vanora was stubborn. The woman frowned though as Linnette pushed the coins back toward her, but she'd be damned if she was going to take them back. All of her crew worked hard and deserved a raise once in a while....when she could afford it. Vanora stepped back away from the table as if to say that she'd not take the money back, but she did so with a smile playing at the corners of her mouth....
"Well you do deserve it, my dear," With a heavy sigh, Vanora stepped toward the door as Linnette prepared to write more in the ledger. They both had a lot of work to do, and Linnette would no doubt like to be alone for a while. Opening the door to leave, Vanora turned back to Linnette, and said, "I have to get back to the customers anyway, and you have your work, but if you need me for anything you know where I will be..." |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 23 2010, 06:54 PM Post #339 |
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Author: golden_trillium Date: Fri May 30, 2008 5:08 pm Linnette
"Yes...thank you." Linnette smiled tiredly as Vanora left the small office, then turned her attention again to the coins that Vanora had left on the table. A raise? Well, that was welcome, though Linnette hated to think that Vanora was providing it just out of pity for her. But Linnette did do good work- she knew it, without pride or puffing herself up, just as fact. She was good at keeping track of and writing down all the little picky details. Hmm...well, it was welcome. Linnette set down her quill on the desk and scooted the coins toward her, counted them in her good hand, then reached down and stuck them in her pouch and picked up the quill again. She wouldn't forget to scrupulously record that amount either. Her eyes still felt puffy and sad, but they were dry for now- and Linnette, knowing that that situation might not necessarily last long, bent her head to her ledgers, trying her best to think of nothing but quantities of supplies and money, until she was caught up on her accounting for the day. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 23 2010, 06:55 PM Post #340 |
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Author: LadyCastus Date: Fri May 30, 2008 8:20 pm Titrus Titrus watched as Malcus led the woad woman toward the stables. When they rounded the corner, Titrus turned and headed in the opposite direction, walking in the direction of the Roman prison, better known as the ‘dungeons’, a word Titrus hated. The lieutenant pulled his cloak around him tightly and wiped his forehead as the rain continued to assault him as he made his way, carefully, through the mud. He was only going back to the cells to check on the woad girl. “Eala,” he said out loud. The woad woman had said the girl’s name and now Titrus rolled it around his tongue. I’m only checking on her because I told her I would and I’m a man of my word. Yeah, sure. Titrus knew that was only half true. He knew he was checking on the girl because he wanted to. She is a child, his inner voice said. “A wild child,” he responded to himself. As Titrus approached, a guardsman opened the gate with a grunt and let Titrus enter. The lieutenant nodded and kept walking. A second guard fell into step with him. No matter how many times he’d gone there, the smell of the dungeons smacked him in the face like a drunken whore every time. He fought the urge to gag and ignored his stomach as it violently flip-flopped. Titrus walked up to Eala’s cell door and peered between the bars. The prisoner was sitting in the far corner of the cell, holding the doll Titrus had given to her previously. The guard unlocked the door and pulled it open for Titrus. As he walked in, Titrus noticed the girl was sleeping. The lieutenant stared at her for a moment. Even in her sleep, there was nothing quite innocent or angelic about her. She didn’t really look like a child – more like a small person. Her life, and God only knew what she’d been through, had hardened her features, even at such a young age. Titrus wondered how old she was. Where were her parents? Were they dead? Did she have brothers? Sisters? The Roman continued to stare at her. The child’s breathing was deep and even. The lieutenant didn’t want to wake her. He might either frighten her or cause her to attack. So instead, Titrus turned to walk out of the cell. As he reached the door, he heard movement from the child behind him. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 23 2010, 06:56 PM Post #341 |
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Author: sabor ice Date: Fri May 30, 2008 11:10 pm Ash The break from the two children had led Ash into familiar territory. He recognized the infirmary building south of him, and immediately detoured, prowling down the length of an alleyway. He hunkered down at the mouth of it at the other end, plastering his back against the wall, when he detected anxious footsteps sloshing through the murky landing nearby. He warily peered around the corner, narrowed dark eyes scrutinizing the two figures making haste toward the stables. He unmistakably recognized Neeria's voice. The soldier hurried her along. Ash made ready to track them, when suddenly a shrilly voice cut through the rain behind him.
Without preamble the male woad whipped around and partially pinned Mona to the wall, slapping a hand over her mouth to silence her. He threw a frantic glance over his shoulder, making sure the soldier that had been towing Neeria along had not heard Mona's cry and doubled back to investigate. He had not. The two had disappeared around a corner. Ash sighed with relief, glaring daggers at the blonde Woad then, his face only inches from hers. "Clearly you are either completely incompetent, Mona, or purposely trying to sabotage this mission," Ash hissed quietly. "Don't make me regret not tying you up and gagging you this very moment." He released her and stepped away, tension rolling off his shoulders in waves as he cautiously glanced in the direction Neeria had been taken again. "Neeria was being led in that direction. She had only one guard with her that I could see," Ash explained, turning back to Mona and Guinevere, his jaw squared. "She is your responsibility now. I suggest you use Guinevere's knowledge of the fort to your advantage. Fetch her quickly and get out." He looked away again, his eyes distant. "I will collect Eala and bring her to safety tonight. I fear tomorrow will be too late, " he added, apathetically. His gaze flashed meaningfully toward the female Woads. "For all of us." Cáel He had that new arrival aura about him, but that fact did not hinder Cáel in the least. He liked to think he had a very unforgettable face. If people stared - all the better - it meant they were interested in him. His demeanor was over-all pleasant, his manners proper. There was every reason for people to be interested in him, and no reason for them to be suspicious. And even if someone were suspicious of him, obviously it'd link back to mere paranoia. Cáel was undoubtedly trustworthy, after all. A true gentleman. The Goth located an empty table and settled himself. A young serving girl timidly approached, her features a bit wary as her eyes memorized his uniqueness. Cáel graced her with a warm smile, the twinkle in his eyes genuine. She breathed easy and relaxed, returning the gesture. He reached for her small hand, taking it tenderly and turning it palm side up as he slipped her a couple of coins. His other hand briefly folded over hers. He was utterly tentative, and she seemed to respond beautifully. "Bring me whatever you have to offer," he told her and winked. She giggled at what she perceived to be an innuendo. She left a mug of ale with him, before gliding away toward the kitchen to fetch his lunch. The Goth settled back in his seat, his dark gaze briefly sweeping the room, eventually locking onto an apparent audience. A lovely dark-haired woman (Darya) sitting alone in the far corner was staring at him. The corner of his mouth tugged into a subtle smirk. He raised his mug to her, before bringing it to his lips to drink. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 23 2010, 06:57 PM Post #342 |
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Author: Unicorn Date: Sat May 31, 2008 1:18 pm Dagonet As Dagonet spoke up he had not noticed that his friend was slowly slipping away. Answer to Dagonet's question and his words was a light snore from Bors. Slowly the big knight turned his head to look upon his friend and saw him with closed eyes, his body limbly laying on the cot. A small smile appeared on his face as he watched his friend. Good, old Bors. Dagonet himself closed his eyes and sighed silently. But there he had not long time to rest as he mostly sensed than heard somebody approaching and felt somebody put upon his bedside gently. Dagonet oppened his eyes only to see Jols sitting by with his clasped hands upon his bed. "Jols..." Dagonet uttered and looked into the man's face. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 23 2010, 06:58 PM Post #343 |
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Author: Starbelle Date: Sat May 31, 2008 1:39 pm Jols
"Hey Dagonet. How are you feeling? Doing ok?" Jols asked after greeting his friend and brother as he glanced down into the other man's eyes. "Lancelot wanted me to tell you that he'd see you shortly as I almost ran into him from the stables on my way over here." The Squire commented, a lopsided grin appearing on his face at the mention of the near collision. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 23 2010, 07:03 PM Post #344 |
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Author: Pinkie Date: Sat May 31, 2008 2:28 pm Catherine Catherine didn't do what she did for the love of money. She didn't do it for the love of men either. She did it for the love of the acquaintances made - the opportunity to learn about the places that other people had been and she had only ever dreamed about. She didn't dislike money but there was a catch in her brain that tripped each and every time she heard the clink of coins after spreading her legs for a man. She despised that part of her job with a passion. There was, unfortunately, not other way around it. She was a whore. And so being a whore the blonde never really expected kindness from people. And she most certainly did not expect kindness from someone like Tristan. He was rough around the edges - oh far from cruel! but he was withdrawn even from his own heart. To hear his steps following her and then feel his touch upon her elbow to halt her departure and then the soft brush of his lips in amidst the bristly beard -- it was ... strange. Unexpected.
And she remained unaware of his true motive for the embrace. Catherine's lips parted and a wistful look took flight across her face. Had her eyes been open an onlooker would have seen hope, longing and devestation play out on her beautiful features. Hope for this touch from a man that she loved, longing for the same thing, and devestation in knowing that it would never be for her. Such things were never meant for a whore. The blonde smiled, dipping her head and wiping away any vestiges of emotion from her face as Tristan pulled her hood up. It was a remarkably considerate gesture, coupled with his gruff order, it made Catherine's stomach flip. Did he really care or was this part of his undeniable charm? With a brief but obvious curtsey, Catherine winked at Tristan and turned, walking out of his room and down the corridor. She was going to go home and bathe - not because she felt Tristan's touch was dirty, far from it... in fact, she quite enjoyed that last gesture, the brush of his lips against her neck, the feel of his hands about her waist so possessively... was that what it was to be loved? Oh who knew! Catherine was going to bathe because she felt dirty from those coins. Her mind conjured the image of that extra coin and she shivered - a shiver that had nothing to do with the rain that splattered over her pretty face as she hurried through the courtyard and out into the houses that lined the street leading to the fortress grounds. Galahad It was easy to whinge about the weather. Much harder to admit that you had just seen your woman with another man - Galahad didn't want to think about that. Maybe if he ignored it long enough it would become unreal... somehow. Gawain knew about stuff like that, didn't he? He knew women - he had it all sorted with Brianna, and she was a bloody WOAD for crying out loud. Anyone who could tame a woad and settle down to have kids with her had to know a thing or two about women. Once more it was on Galahad's mind to ask about Brianna - his lips parted, smacked shut and he looked away, frowning at the ground as they climbed the steps to the infirmary. Questions about Brianna might bring about questions on Alina and ... no. Just no. Galahad's jaw tensed once inside the infirmary. As if the infection knew where it was, the wound on his stomach gave a protesting jab of heat. The young knight flinched, ducking his head and took a deep breath through his mouth - anything not to smell the medicaments that were meant to make a man feel better.
The young Knight's nose scrunched up as he looked at Gawain, his face twisting in confusion. Why? The worst thing than bringing back the dead body of a friend and brother was having to tell the news to yet another broken woman left behind. Galahad hated that. He hated seeing the effect that Rome's service had on the ones left behind. The other Sarmatians were different - they were all still in service... but Linnette owed Rome nothing and she would be, no doubt, broken by this. What right had Rome to rip her heart out the way it had? Galahad parted his lips to answer but Gawain spoke up - and his blue eyes also spotted Lavinia, dreaded Lavinia, making a bee-line. Galahad tried to make himself look very small...
Well that was good news about Dag anyways! Galahad half-turned away from the confrontation that Gawain was expertly putting to rest. He looked around the infirmary with narrowed blue eyes, seeing if he recognised anyone in the beds. He wasn't sure, but he thought that that might have been DAgonet way off in a corner but the light was not the best in the infirmary so he couldn't be certain. When Lavinia passed a comment on Gawain going back in a month, the young knight's head whipped around, looking first at the blonde Sarmatian and then guiltily at Lavinia. He hadn't come to the infirmary - Lavinia would know that. And she would not be best pleased about it either, he wuoldn't think. Galahad was about to thank Lavinia for seeing to DAgonet and his hand was already on Gawain's elbow hoping to drag him out of there when the old hag turned on him. Immediately defensive and feeling rather cornered, and more than a little mocked considering what he had just seen, Galahad puffed up his chest and frowned bitterly at Lavinia. "Who am I, her mother? I don't know where she is - she was there when I feel asleep earlier and gone when I woke up. I haven't seen her since." he lied. Badly. Huffing out a breath, Galahad sniffed and thumped a hand back on the inside of his cloak to dispel some of the rain droplets. "She's a big girl now ya know - she can well look after herself." it was on Galahad's tongue to say that maybe Alina wasn't there because of Lavinia being something of a battle-axe in temperment btu he thought, nay, he knew that that would be taking it a little too far. So instead he pursed his lips petulantly. Amadeus Amadeus would never admit it but he was not very good at reading people. He observed but he was only good at that - observing. He tended to take things at face value and so when Arthur remained impassive and outwardly calm, the Optio saw no reason to think that he was feeling anything to the contrary. It was for thsi reason that he had employed the company and watchful eyes of people like Rowan... and Wybert. Both now dead. Arthur's anger in that brief moment had been easy to read. Amadeus narrowed his grey eyes marginally and waited with pursed lips for the Commander's response. Surely he would not deny him his right to bear witness to the punishment of a man who had wronged him!
And now he was being studied. Amadeus remained calm, impassive, as Arthur scrutinised him. He ran through what he had just been told - to carry out this important order, to forget about Lancelot, essentially, and do as he was told. The Optio could not help but give a wry smile as Arthur referred to his pets as Conscripts. It must have hurt him to acknowledge that that was all they were. They were no elite squad of cavalry. They were cantankerous, pagan, loose-moraled, tongue-wagging, untrustworthy conscripts. They were not here for the love of Rome as Arthur and Amadeus were. That was something that they shared if nothing else, Amadeus thought. That was something that he could and would use to build on. He would use Rome to bring Arthur down. Somehow. With a deep breath inwards, Amadeus allowed Arthur's scrutiny because he had little other choice. The Commander had his chin dipped but raised it now, letting Amadeus know that his study had been complete. With a quirk to one eyebrow, the Optio gave Arthur a half-smile and nodded his head. "Of course, Commander. You will not be disappointed. I will do all in my power to ensure an end to this ruckus with the Woads. I will go now and prepare and trust in your judgement to punish your Knight in what way you see best, which, I have no doubt, is the way Rome would think best, and indeed, the way Holy God himself would think best." There - that said it all. Amadeus expected no leniancy from Arthur on Lancelot - he expected, and would insist, on the Knight having the full hand of Rome and God himself brought down upon his back. With a respectful bow of his head, Amadeus gestured to the door. "I will leave you to rest then Commander - I ride out upon your order momentarily." he intoned seriously. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 23 2010, 07:04 PM Post #345 |
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Author: Unicorn Date: Sat May 31, 2008 2:32 pm Mirtha Ione explored his exposed torso and Mirtha found himself strangely lost to that soft touch. And she was enjoying the touch from him.. as his strong hands came to her breasts and rubbed it lightly. SHe voiced her enjoyment and Mirtha smiled at it. More? He would give her everything... He felt himself hardened even more for her, and already wondering if she would be ready for him also. He would hold himself... He wanted to give her pleasure.. and then take his own, but slowly.. and without haste. He was not drunk... he would taste those feelings in their full taste. When he turned her around and he traced with his fingers the scars over her back feeling of deep sadness got into his heart... She had them because of a drunken men. And now she was being touched by a man who drinks too much and... As she moaned to his touch Mirtha lost his thoughts and closed his eyes as her hand reached his hip and then his manhood through his trousers. He stoped his hands and his tongue for only slight second, of excitment.
Mirtha felt that she was working on his belt and fought back the urge to help her and just be there inside her already. The belt was undone and his breeches slid down to the floor. He felt her hands upon his hips, thighs and slightly brushed over his manhood... just lightly. Mirtha took a deep breath and continued to lick her scars and touch her breast slowly. Then to her neck... but had to stop as she started to move him and urge to sit on the bed. He smiled at her movements and her touches... She asked first.. Right... He halfclosed his eyes as she kneeled above his manhood and touched it so gently... still not lowering herself upon it. He could not resist himself to tak her by her hips and pull her closer to himself for him to feel her skin. To nip at her breasts.
"Slowly...." he repeated in a whisper. His one hand went to her head and let his hand wonder in her hair for a moment as his second hand still held her hip. He smiled at her as he looked into her eyes. "Lay down beside me, Ione... We have time." |
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