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May 2008
Topic Started: Mar 18 2010, 02:23 AM (3,634 Views)
golden_trillium

Admin
Author: golden_trillium
Date: Thu May 08, 2008 5:42 pm
Tristan


Darya
 
“Except for a minor scratch and a hurt pride for having
been called a Roman whore…I guess I am…and since al…most
of you have finally returned to this place, I would like
to think that things are improving. But with the broken
truce…that might stay a wish for a while longer…so…how
many Saxons did you manage to show how a sword is
wielded properly?"


Tristan ducked his head with a small, sheepish smirk, amused
by her amusement at answering that question. He took a breath
to answer, but before he could speak, Bors stumped into the
riding arena and hauled himself up into place on the fence
nearby, with a cheerful grin for both the scout and Darya. His
leg was hurting him, though- Tristan could tell from the way
he walked, if nothing else.

Bors
 
"Oh sorry. Not interuptin' anyfin' am I?"


"Mmhmm." Tristan shook his head in the negative, then turned
back to Darya, stretching out his arms to the sides with an
audible pop of his back. That felt good.

"Seventeen. And nine Woads. You win that bet with Lancelot,
Bors?" he turned to the bigger knight perched on the fence,
awaiting his contribution to the story of the battle.
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: Kay
Date: Fri May 09, 2008 1:05 am
Guinevere


Guinevere glared at Mona; she could feel a bubble of anger
rising in her body; the girl sniffled.

Mona
 
"Yes, princess. You are right."


Guinevere chewed thoughtfully on her bread. There was
something about Mona that disquited the Woad princess; the
girl's face betrayed nothing, but Guinevere could sense an
underlying air of hostility. She wasn't sure why, maybe it was
Mona's body language, but Guinevere had enough experience of
people and their games to know when something was amiss.

Connell
 
"How long do you think we'll have to wait? Once we get
there? How will we remain unseen?"


The healer's voice cut into Guinevere's thoughts; she stood up
and began to pace around.

"We have no way of knowing" she replied, after a pause.
"Everything is dependent on Ash and how his mission fares."

She was still turning over the problem of Mona in her mind.
Then she made a decision.

"I think it would be wise if we included two of the men my
father left behind in our little party" she announced.

Yes, that was the best course of action, she thought. A little
insurance against Mona.
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: Eledhwen
Date: Fri May 09, 2008 2:06 am

Bors


Tristan
 
"Seventeen. And nine Woads. You win that bet with
Lancelot, Bors?"


Bors hurrumphed, and turned at the sound of a voice behind him
to see Galahad all breathless and dripping.

Galahad
 
"Have you seen Gawain?"


"Nah, haven't seen him all day. Why? Can't cope on yer own
son?" Bors grinned, prodding the young man hard on the
shoulder. "Yer'll 'ave to start managin' soon boy, 'e won't be
around forever for ya to 'ang on to 'is apron strings!"

He laughed, and turned back to Tristan, scratching his
stubbley beard thoughtfully.

"'Aven't seen 'im neiver," he groused, "but 'e'll only lie
anyway. 'Course I killed more. 'Im an' 'is poncey swords. Too
busy showin' off to kill anyfing."

He winced as he shifted his weight on the fence, and glanced
at Darya to see if she had noticed. She didn't strike him as
the kind of woman who would go telling tales, but you never
knew with women.
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: Unicorn
Date: Fri May 09, 2008 5:47 am

Evana


Once she entered the room she saw a man slumped on a bench,
his hand laying on it's surface in that weak fashion she had
seen so many times. The man was whole in sweat and his eyes
weren't focused enough.

Evana came closer and kneeled down before the man looking into
his eyes.

Brendyn
 
'My arm...I think it is infected... 'Think the sword I
got into a tangle with yesterday...might have been
rusted... Am suppose to work out a punishment....so...I
need to get this taken care of as soon as you can...'


Evana took his arm in both of her hands while he spoke. The
cloth of his tunic was seemingly stick tightly to the wound.
She looked into his pleading eyes for a second and smiled
slightly.

"You men!" she stood up and went to his other side motioning
for him to stand. "Come on to the nearby cot... and I'll fix
in no time, soldier"

She helped him to stand and soon they moved to the bed. The
man was really weak and it would be no surprise if the wound
be really infected.

"Sit..." she instructed him gently helping in his movements.

There were needed suplies to get the job done. While she took
some suplies from the table her other hand went to his
forehead. Yes, fever was breaking into the man. Thank the God
she was nearby... He would get worst without any medical help.

She moved then to his arm and gently put her hands on it.

"It might hurt a little...." she informed him and pulled the
tunic out of the way, cuting it in the same moment. When the
tunic was out of the way, Evana took fresh and clean cloth to
clean the wounds itself... There was some of the dried blood
around, once it was cleaned Evana threw a dirty cloth to the
nearby basket and took a look at the wound itself. The edges
of it were reddened... infection starting to spread.

She had since that kind of wounds many times. Healer looked at
the man, into his eyes giving him sympathetic smile.

"This has to be reopen... Do you understand?" she asked and
moved away from him. Searching for the right tool to do this.
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: Elessars Girl
Date: Fri May 09, 2008 8:38 am
Derfel


Lucius
 
"Of course I can walk with you"


“Thanks, friend,” Derfel gave Lucius a gentle smile in
appreciation for the other man’s help, the soldier was even
kind enough to clear others out of the knight’s path as he
carried his lover down the coridore. And within minutes they
had reached the door to the tiny room in the knights’ quarters
that Derfel shared with Linnesse. Lucius opened the final door
without hesitation and then very politely stepped aside for
Derfel to enter. He once again gave the soldier a nod in
appreciation.

“I’ll be gettin’ you that well earned ale after she’s
settled….thanks again, Lucius,” Derfel added before leaving
the kind soldier out in the hall. He hated to not ask the man
on into the room, but Linnesse needed some privacy and Derfel
would make it up to Lucius a bit later with a few good drinks
in the tavern. The man at least seemed to understand as he
politely closed the door behind Derfel. Good man.

Thank the gods the fire had not gone out in the brazier, it
would need some tending…but at least the room was fairly warm
yet. Derfel gently lay Linnesse down on their bed and smiled
into her beautiful eyes as she reached up to touch his face.

Linnesse
 
"You're such a sweet man,"


Derfel had parted his lips to murmur something about how it
was all due to Linnesse’s love, but she kissed him rather
ardently considering her weakened condition. The feel of her
tiny fingers in his hair and on his chilled stubbled face had
Derfel quickly forgetting Linnesse’s frail state. He moaned
his appreciation of her attentions into her mouth as he
responded to the feel of her sweet tongue on his. It had been
far too long since….

…..his free hand slid from her shoulders to the opening of her
coat, his fingers easily loosening the ties and slipping
inside to touch her. The soft material of the dress Linnesse
wore was a thin barrier between his fingers and her milky
smooth skin. No doubt the soaked strands of Derfel’s blond
hair dripped all over Linnesse’s brow….and suddenly his brain
finally engaged again.

Derfel, you fool, you would hurt her in her condition!

He suddenly broke the kiss, a popping sound as their mouths
disengaged.

“Luv, I’ve missed you…missed this so much,” Derfel whispered
as he lightly traced a finger over Linnesse’s beautiful
neckline. “But you need your rest more than anything right
now,” He woefully added before placing a small kiss on the tip
of her nose. Derfel then sat up a little more and began to
remove Linnesse’s rather damp coat before the bed linens were
completely soaked. But as his gaze caught a brief glimpse of
Linnesse’s bare shoulder in the shift, Derfel could not stop
himself from leaning down to brush his lips over the tender
flesh there.

If Derfel had his way about things right now, Linnesse would
already be fully recovered from her illness and he’d spend the
rest of this day showing her how much she was wanted and
loved. But as fate would have it, she was still obviously
quite weak….and if Derfel was any sort of smart, he’d take
care of her now so that she would be better that much sooner.
And besides, he knew he should look in on Dagonet and reassure
the tall Sarmatian that Linnette was fine….or so he hoped.
Surely the Commander had called her to only offer his
condolences….Gedeon…why’d ya have to leave me with your wife
to look after, aye? Derfel was finally seeing some humor in
the current situation. But he still missed Gedeon and mourned
the loss of his best friend something fierce.
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: Darya
Date: Fri May 09, 2008 9:16 am
Darya


Bors
 
"Oh sorry… Not interuptin' anyfin' am I?"


A rather loud and very familiar voice stopped Tristan from
answering her question right away. And Darya already knew who
had just joined them by the riding arena before her head
whipped around to confirm Bors' approach. Was the man limping?
The female Sarmatian just parted her lips to comment on the
burly knight’s words and as well as on his apparent injury
when she noticed that Bors had been followed…

Galahad
 
"Have you seen Gawain?"


Bors
 
"Nah, haven't seen him all day. Why? Can't cope on yer
own son? Yer'll 'ave to start managin' soon boy, 'e
won't be around forever for ya to 'ang on to 'is apron
strings!"


The dark-haired crossed her arms before her and watched
Galahad and Bors exchanging a few words. She could not help
but be quite amused by the oldest of the knights and his
unique way of voicing his opinions. Darya cast a side glance
at Tristan, figuring that he, too, might be rather amused by
the little scene…even though the scout hardly ever showed such
emotions. However, the woman then sort of covered her
amusement by flashing a greeting smile at Bors as well as at
Galahad…if a bit late perhaps.

Tristan
 
"Mmhmm. Seventeen. And nine Woads. You win that bet with
Lancelot, Bors?"


Bors
 
"'Aven't seen 'im neiver, but 'e'll only lie anyway.
'Course I killed more. 'Im an' 'is poncey swords. Too
busy showin' off to kill anyfing."


Darya was honestly impressed by Tristan’s reply and gave him
an appreciative nod. “Any count on arrow shots, too?”, she
wondered, her eyes sparkling cheekily as she did so. But then
Bors spoke again…and that made the female chuckle audibly. As
much as she liked-disliked the First Knight…Bors' hilarious
way of replying to Tristan’s question was just too good.
“Don’t let him hear this…”, Darya said and grinned wryly,
“…especially since his mood has not been the best earlier…”
When Bors then moved a little, she noticed him wincing
visibly…and arched an eyebrow at the older man. He should have
a healer check on his leg for sure, but like all Sarmatians –
including herself – Bors certainly was not keen on ending in
the infirmary, thus the female just gave him a meaningful
glance. Then she shifted her dark gaze towards Galahad. “What
about you, Galahad? How did the did you manage during the
battles?”, the dark-haired asked the young knight and tilted
her head a little as she waited for him to speak…
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: Elessars Girl
Date: Fri May 09, 2008 10:10 am

Arthur


Arthur closely regarded Linnette’s expression as she pulled
her tiny fingers from his large sword callused hands. She was
a courageous young woman. The Commander had not forgotten the
great lengths Linnette had gone to during the mission to
rescue her sister last season. He had admired her
determination and strength then and she appeared to be relying
on those same skills now as she gave Arthur a brave little
smile. It broke his heart nonetheless.

Linnette
 
"Of course, Commander, and I thank you- but I'm sure you
understand that it no longer seems such a good thing
now."


The lines across Arthur’s brow deepened in conjunction with
the slight frown that formed with his mouth. He braced himself
by pressing the palms of both hands on the tabletop on either
side of his hips and patiently listened as Linnette continued.
His side twinged again, but Arthur ignored it…for now.

Linnette
 
"I suppose none of us know God's will,"


God’s will.

Arthur exhaled as she looked away, and briefly his gaze
dropped to Linnette’s abdomen…where she carried Gedeon’s
unborn child. No woman should be forced to bring a child into
this world without the support of the father. And no child
should be without both parents. But Arthur knew all too well
how unkind fate could be. And he silently cursed the role he
had played in Gedeon’s fate.

“While I do not question God’s purpose,” Arthur began in a
thoughtful tone; expression reflective despite the buildup of
guilt in his heart over Linnette’s personal loss. “I can only
offer that I will never understand why we must be made to
endure the loss of those deepest in our hearts.”

“However, my faith in Him is what I must draw on to see
through those pains,” Arthur continued with quiet conviction.
He then paused as he thought on Gedeon and specifically why he
had called Linnette here this morning.

“My lady, your husband was a fine man. I mourn his loss and I
pray for him. Please accept my apology for having nothing
further to offer you and for not informing you personally upon
my return,” Arthur spoke the words as gently as his deep voice
would allow; compassionate emerald eyes never leaving
Linnette’s brave face. His own weakness had kept Arthur from
that particular duty, informing another innocent woman that he
had made her a widow. Arthur swallowed roughly to clear the
lump that had formed in his throat. By all rights, Linnette
should despise Arthur. He could not fault her for it.

And while Arthur waited for whatever Linnette may wish to add,
he thanked God that he had no child…for he deserved none.
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: Pinkie
Date: Fri May 09, 2008 1:20 pm
Eala


Eala was chewing idly as she looked out the window. She was
like a caged dog - longing for the wilds outside, longing to
be where she was meant to be. The window was not the clearest
but even still, the little blonde could see that it wasn't
trees and wildnerness she looked at. It was grey stone
unforgiving walls. Harsh corners. Cruel lines. Severe
stonework which, to someone who was so used to nature, seemed
insulting.

So she imagined it ... she imagined all of what she knew to be
familiar.

Merlin, he stood over there with his head low, his eyes
intense. Juna - thoughts of Juna made Eala self-consciously
lift a hand to her shoulder. Te memory of that pain was as
intense as Merlin's eyes. Guinevere would be up on those
walls... the trees would be there, there and there...

As Neeria prayed, Eala imagined.

She moved away from the window, starting to pace, tugging her
bottom lip outwards as she tried to think of what she was
forgetting. She dare not think of her brother, it was still
too painful to remember Donnchadh.

The little blonde didn't notice Neeria's smile nor the man who
entered. She had gone back to the window and narrowed her
black eyes into the distance. What else... ? Ash! Ash would be
... Ash was right there, her imagination conjuring him to
stand in front of her. Eala gave a small smile at first,
thinking he was an apparition, but she soon raelised he was
real and he was there. Her mouth dropped open and she slammed
her hand against the window. The lead frame took the force of
the blow as the ten-year-old whirled around with wide, excited
black eyes to show Neeria, but they were not alone.

Eala's stance altered completely. Her shoulders hunched and
her knees bent - she crouched like a predator, looking at the
man, prowling to one side until she realised it was the man
who took the chains from her. The blonde narrowed her eyes at
him suspiciously. She was not convinced that just because he
unchained her that he was inherently good.

She looked back towards the window and then over at Neeria.
Slowly, Eala walked to the bed, took a chunk of bread and
stuffed it in her mouth, chewing it impolitely whilst
eyeballing Titrus, showing him that she wasn't finished in
here yet.







Drake and Amadeus

Why was he worried about leaving her? It was ludicrous. Drake
trusted Arthur implicitly. There was no need to be afraid of
what was going to happen behind those doors ... and yet... And
yet Drake knew that this was inevitably to be about Gedeon. He
knew that that would upset Linnette and she would be standing
there all alone and ...

Malcus
 
"Drake old man, let's wait outside."


Drake was led out by the younger soldier. When he got outside
he went across to the wall, dropped his saddlebags and started
to chew the inside of his cheek whilst staring at the door.
She would be all alone and trying not to cry. Her eyes would
be flinty, her hands probably gripping her skirts or fingers
digging into her palm to distract her from the real pain.

With a rueful shake of his head, Drake finally raelised that
Malcus had called him old man. Well, he certainly was that.
At more than 35 winters he was the most senior man outside the
door here at least. He had seen more battles than these men,
killed more men than they had done. He had suffered and
ensured others suffered whilst these were still in their
swaddling clothes.

Strange how that was.

Well wasn't this comfortable?

Amadeus feigned nonchalance as they all gathered outside
Arthur's door. he was not sure why the trainer Drake was
lingering. He had no duty here. He had no task or order to be
here so why did he linger? And why did he look so bloody
annoyed?

The Optio was pondering these thoughts, just coming to a
couple of wrong conclusions as to why Drake was there when
Lancelot broke the silence.

Lancelot
 
"What really happened, Scipio? Why did the Woads attack?
How did they know Arthur would be gone?"


The tight voice of Lancelot distracted Drake from his study of
the wood of Arthur's door. He cocked his eyebrow at the
Sarmatian, wondering at his audacity, bravery, stupidity -
whatever it was, to quetsion a Roman Optio in such a tone. The
old Roman soldier lifted one hand to his face, rubbing his
calloused fingers against his bearded cheek, looking back at
the door.

Aware that Malcus was watching and would, no doubt, report to
Arthur, Amadeus looked over at Lancelot with his eyebrows
raised. He was aiming for a look of innocence but instead it
looked more like insult that he was being spoken to at all.
And how dare he insinuate that he had something to do with the
Woads attack!! How dare he imply that this was somehow an
inside job!

Amadeus ignored Lancelot's hand going to his dagger.
Strange that he was not in the least scared of Lancelot though
he knew the man would cut his throat given the opportunity.
Unpredictable as Lancelot was, he just did not hold the same
fear for Amadeus that Arthur did. If Lancelot killed him
Amadeus knew that his life would then be forfeit. And, oddly,
he would be almost willing to sacrifice his life just to know
that his death would be teh death of Lancelot too.

Such cheery thoughts ensured the Optio kept a straight face as
he shrugged.

"I presume the Woads are not blind and took note of the fact
that the cavalry had left. It also does us no favours that
certain woads have been given the freedom of the fortress on
more than one occassion. Any number of foes might lurk in the
shadows."

It was not a threat. But a reminder. Neatly disguised.









Catherine

Catherine felt rather silly for having been so suggestive.
Things had been going the way she always longed for them to be
and she had squandered it by drawing attention to her way of
life. It was silly and she could barely think straight when
she saw Gawain so visibly wilt. It was almost as if she had
slapped him in the face, so acute was his reaction.

For once she was not being precisely what a man wanted her to
be, she was being.. herself. It was strange territory.

Catherine was a stranger to herself.

When she asked what he would do when he left Britain, Gawain
took a long time to answer. The whore thought she had
completely repulsed him, she thought she had irreperably
sullied their time together and was about to rise to her feet,
to walk away silently never to bother him again. It was a
horrible sinking feeling to know that she had failed at being
herself, but alas, her moment was not over yet.

Gawain
 
“We knights talk endlessly about going home,”


Catherine positively beamed when he spoke. So she had not
completely ruined this then!

Her relief was palpable as her shoulders relaxed, her head
tilted and her finger idly twirled a strand of golden hair
this way and that, unconsciously trailing it over her lips now
and then, but her green eyes remained on Gawain, resolved to
committ every word to memory.

Gawain
 
“I’d always thought that returning to Sarmatia was the
most important thing in the world. But it’s not. What
matters most is freedom. I don’t know any more where
I’ll go if I survive five more years. But damn it, I’ll
be free to go wherever I want. No one will own me any
longer, and no one will be able to stop me. That's
something worth living for. I’m sorry. I don’t even know
your name, and I’m subjecting you to battle stories and
emotional tirades. So tell me your name, and tell me
about something you’re interested in. I really can just
shut up and listen, believe it or not. Do you want
anything else to eat or drink?”


Such things she had never considered within the scope of these
Knights to contemplate!

Catherine's body language was positive - she leaned forward in
her seat, the pale bodice she wore revealing an impressive,
creamy bosom, but her hair fell over it, decently covering her
body as she revelled in this information. The philosophy
behind it.

Things like freedom, like home and surviving... being owned.
Not even in all her thinking had Catherine really thought
about these things and now that she did she found herself
pitying the Sarmatians. She found herself wanting to touch
Gawain's hand which was so close to her own which lay still on
the table. She wanted to tell him that he would survive to
taste freedom, or at least tell him that she hoped he would,
but it all sounded so silly in her mind.

He smiled.

She smiled.

Catherine's smile was rather impish, her fingers curled
inwards and then one finger twisted outwards, touching
Gawain's teacup. Her eyes had dropped to his calloused fingers
but snapped back up at his face when he, not only asked her
name, but asked of her interests. Her mouth was agape and it
took a moment to compose herself, breathing a gentle laugh of
surprise as she looked back at his fingers.

Initially she waved off his offer of tea but when she glanced
up at him for only a moment she saw hope in his eyes, a hope
for her to remain. Catherine knew that look - it was usually
when she was dressing to leave a bedroom that a man looked
like that she inevitably stayed the night talking... So she
changed her mind.

"Tea. Please, Gawain." she spoke his name with an odd
intonation, almost like an incantation. Her bottom lip was
tucked in between her pearly teeth a moment - "And I'm
Catherine." the whore introduced herself. Her index finger had
moved up the side of his tea-cup and was trailing over one of
his fingers now, dipping down to the tea-cup and onto his
other one. It was an idle gesture but somehow quite intimate.
"And my interests..." Catherine laughed, her cheeks coloring
with embarrassment.

Oh gods how easy it would be to just lie. To tell Gawain that
she liked horses and dresses or knitting or something like
that. How tempting it was to pretend she was like normal
whores and not some oddity!

The blonde cleared her throat. She moved her arm, propping her
elbow onto the wood and cupping the side of her neck with her
palm, creamy fingers arund the back at the nape of her neck.
She couldn't meet Gawain's eyes, their hazy green depths
watering as she stared at his fingers. Not from sadness, but
because she was afraid to blink. Stupidly.

"I dream about ... land. Foreign lands. Of lands of sunshine
and snow. Lands that have whole winters of blackness and
summers were the sun never sets. I long for men with skin as
black as coal, women who have metal pierced into their bodies
for decoration and dedication to their gods. I... I ..."

Catherine stopped her whispering and looked up at Gawain. She
looked so embarrassed. She laughed, at herself, and shook her
head, lifting her hand from toying with Gawain's to cover her
face as she laughed again.

"I sound silly. A whore with a dream. Isn't that strange?" the
blonde asked Gawain, peeking out at him from behind her
fingers, still smiling beautifully but still obviously
embarrassed. It was a strange kind of embarrassment because
she did not try to hide it.










Galahad

When Galahad caught up with Bors he saw that Darya and Tristan
were there too. He gave them both a tense, not-really-happy
smile, and looked back at Bors expectantly. He never got much
good out of Tristan anyway - so it was probably pointless to
ask him if he had seen Gawain.

Bors
 
"Nah, haven't seen him all day. Why? Can't cope on yer
own son? Yer'll 'ave to start managin' soon boy, 'e
won't be around forever for ya to 'ang on to 'is apron
strings!"


The young knight's nose wrinkled a little and his eyebrows
drooped to create a dark 'v' between his eyes as he looked at
Bors. He scoffed at the older Knights teasing, rolling his
blue eyes and folding his arms over his chest. Licking his
bottom lip and refusing to even look at Bors when he was being
such an arse, Galahad pouted, looking at the rafters until he
had finished.

"I'm not bloody ... !" he began, but Bors had already turned
his attention back to Tristan.

Bors
 
"'Aven't seen 'im neiver, but 'e'll only lie anyway.
'Course I killed more. 'Im an' 'is poncey swords. Too
busy showin' off to kill anyfing."


Forgetting his recent sulk, Galahad perked up a bit, losing
some of the poutish look from his face as he looked from Bors
to Tristan -

"Who? Lancelot?" he grinned, knowing that it was Lancelot but
speaking to include himself in the conversation. Galahad
snickered, enjoying Bors' mockery of the first Knight. It
wasn't that he disliked Lancelot. He was just a cocky bastard
at times. It did a man good to be taken down a peg or two -
and besides, it was usually himself that was being ribbed like
this. It felt good to know that it wasn't only him tha was the
butt of jokes.

Darya
 
“Any count on arrow shots, too? Don’t let him hear this…
especially since his mood has not been the best earlier…
What about you, Galahad? How did the did you manage
during the battles?”


Being both male and a warrior, Galahad blithely ignored Bors'
discomfort, instead turning his boyish grin towards Darya,
turning quite smug as he shrugged non-chalantly.

"I wasn't keeping count. I couldn't really... I was right in
the thick of it you see." he bragged, glancing over at Tristan
with a wry grin on his face. He sniffed and shrugged his
shoulder, leaning his elbow onto the fence next to Bors and
aimed to look non-chalant. It always looked to be an effort
with Galahad. Being the youngest, and looking the youngest,
always made his gestures and stances look like he was only
copying the other knights. "Gawain and me took out at least 40
between us though. And Arthur, gods he got that big ... g..
guy... " Galahad's voice trailed off and he grimaced,
recalling just who the big guy was. Derfel's father.
He cleared his throat again, giving a sheepish shrug of his
shoulder as he scratchd the back of his neck.
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golden_trillium

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Author: Ranchera
Date: Fri May 09, 2008 3:57 pm
Connell


Guinevere
 
"We have no way of knowing.  Everything is dependent on Ash and how his mission fares. I think it would be wise if we included two of the men my father left behind in our little party"


Connell noticed Mona still mad-dogging him, her strong eyes
never departing from his face. He wasn't used to this, and
found her entirely disconcerting, however the lady Guinevere
reminded him of the matter at hand. He wasn't going to allow
Mona to distract him. He was going to have to rely on his
practicality.

"Lady," he said, as gently as he could, "for certain there is
protection in great numbers. But I think-- and I could be
mistaken, for you are far greater practiced in fighting
methods than I-- this may be the time to cloak ourselves in
secrecy and keep our numbers small. Less noticeable. It would
be easier to get us three inside, easier than five.

"And perhaps I am rushing things in my impatience, but I don't
think we should wait too long. Neeria may be fighting for her
life even now. I say, we give it no more than a day for the
signal of the man inside. If we don't get it, we need to
devise our own plan. What do you say?"
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Author: lady ione
Date: Fri May 09, 2008 4:45 pm
Brendyn


As the nun took his arm, Brendyn winced and held his breath
until the pain passed. He did have to hand it to her, she was
gentle. Brendyn felt thirsty and just wanted some water or
something to ease the dryness in his mouth. The only thing
that kept his mind off of the pain was the way the morning
began watching Tatiana wake up beside him and how her eyes
fluttered open in the dim morning light...

Evana
 
"Come on to the nearby cot... and I'll fix in no time,
soldier" "Sit..."


...Brendyn, as weak as he felt, stood and leaned slightly
against the nun as she moved him to a nearby cot that looked
more comfortable than the bench he had been placed on. Brendyn
felt a bit warm, and as soon as he lay down on the cot, he
waited to see what she'd do next... he hoped for something
that would sedate him slightly while he was being worked on.
This woman was gentle and it reminded him of his aunt who had
had a gentle but firm demeanor about her....even as the nun
lay a hand on his forehead. '...name..is Brendyn....' he
mumbled. He gasped then as she began to remove the tunic from
the dried blood and muck that had caused the discomfort. Bren
groaned while she worked...

Evana
 
"It might hurt a little...."


Being a soldier, Bren had been hurt several times, so he
should have been use to the pain, but he had never dealt with
infection. As she gently pulled the cloth away from the wound
cutting the tunic in the same moment, the young soldier
reminded himself that he was a soldier and should be use to
pain , but he was also human and even though the nun was being
as gentle as she could, the wound was just tender. He relaxed
and looked up at the ceiling as she took clean cool water and
began to methodically clean the dirt, access cloth and crusted
blood from around the injury to get a better look.

Brendyn wondered what she was seeing as she really had not
told him much except that whatever she was doing would hurt a
bit. 'What does it look like, ' He asked out of curiosity.
Brendyn was answered with a sympathetic smile...all he could
think of was Malcus and Titrus's anger at all of this....but
int he same thought, he heard Antonius yelling at him to get
his butt off the dime to get back to training. Then there was
the lighter thought of the maid with Copper hair...

Evana
 
"This has to be reopen... Do you understand?"


Bren swallowed hard, and hoped again that she'd at least
sedate him before cutting the wound open to drain, but then as
sore as it was maybe he'd feel nothing. Brendyn nodded,
turning his head slightly to watch the nameless nun move off a
bit to get the instrument needed...

"I understand," He said softly. In his mind, he tried to think
of when he could go back to cleaning the latrines then get
back to his regualr duties. As long as you have two feet and
at least one good arm, you can go back to your duties....What
are you, Brendyn? lame?...lame...lame... came the voice inside
his head. Silently he knew Titrus had been right: How could he
have been so stupid as to let the wound get that bad? But the
medicus that treated him the first time...had he been skilled
enough to do a good job? It was obvious to BRen now that the
medic had been in a big hurry, and now he was back having the
wound retreated....

'You have been very kind, Sister,' Brendyn whispered.
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Author: Lancelot
Date: Fri May 09, 2008 5:03 pm
Lancelot


Lancelot thought it interesting that Scipio wasn't directly
challenging him. Was the man a coward? He was, after all, the
"official" second in command. Not like the Spaniard or
Barbattus would cry too much if the First Knight and Optio
killed each other.

Arthur might be a tad peeved, but he could find himself
another whore another second. Gawain was good -

Lancelot smeared a dirty hand over his face. Despite his state
of being dressed, he felt disgusting and bloody still. The
baths were the one Roman invention the Sarmatian actually
liked - and he'd like to visit them once this business with
Merlin was settled. Merlin. The old Woad fucker would be first
on Lancelot's kill list...or perhaps it would be the
hook-nosed man who was nonchalantly answering his heated
question.

Amadeus
 
"I presume the Woads are not blind and took note of the
fact that the cavalry had left. It also does us no
favours that certain woads have been given the freedom
of the fortress on more than one occassion. Any number
of foes might lurk in the shadows."


"As might any number of turncoats," Lancelot snapped back. He
remained leaning against the wall, but his body was beginning
to ache with the strain it was taking not to hit this man. How
could it be possible that in the whole of the Roman army,
there was only one good commander?

"You do realize one of the Magician's leaders has been in this
fortress before - did you see her? Did you see Guinevere?"
Lancelot's grip on the hilt of his dagger tightened
involuntarily. Memories of his capture, and of Guinevere and
... Mordred ... made Lancelot shudder without realizing it.
"Did Merlin personally lead the attack?"

Lancelot's voice was tight; if they had been out fighting the
fucking waste-of-breath Saxons when Merlin himself might have
actually been here, been inside Badon....gods. The mere
thought made Lancelot want to punch the wall.
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Author: golden_trillium
Date: Fri May 09, 2008 8:05 pm
Tristan


Darya
 
“Any count on arrow shots, too? Don’t let him hear
this…especially since his mood has not been the best
earlier…what about you, Galahad? How did the did you
manage during the battles?”


Galahad
 
"I wasn't keeping count. I couldn't really... I was
right in the thick of it, you see. Gawain and me took
out at least 40 between us, though. And Arthur, Gods, he
got that big...g...guy... "


"Eh...good riddance. Glad he did," Tristan put in with a roll
of his eyes for Galahad's oversensitivity on that small point.
It didn't matter a bit to Tristan that the Saxon King had been
Derfel's father- well, at least it didn't matter now that
Derfel's loyalty had been proven. The only worry Tristan had
had about that particular situation was whether Derfel would
be led to change his allegiance because of it. The sentimental
aspect, the fact that Derfel had had to essentially be
complicit in his father's death, made no impression on
Tristan. After all, Derfel hadn't even seen Aelle since he was
a very small child- how much of a father could he have been?
And he was the fucking King of the Saxons. Some father.

"Better than taking him home," he added, with palpable
exasperation as he, too, leaned once again on the fence,
between Darya and Galahad. Once more his eyes were on the dirt
floor of the arena, and he smudged around some of the loose
grains with his toe idly. He referred, of course, to the Woad
woman, and the fact that Arthur was damned deluded if he
thought she was going to provide anything like useful
information.








Linnesse

Derfel
 
“Luv, I’ve missed you…missed this so much, but you need
your rest more than anything right now.”


"Hmmmph." Linnesse made a soft, discontented- though
distinctly tired- sound as she surrendered to Derfel's
assistance in removing her cloak. It was certainly good to get
the wet, heavy cloth out from under and around her, so it
could be replaced by the warmth of blankets instead. Her eyes
began to drift towards closing again as Derfel began to
considerately arrange the bedding- but in the midst of that,
his warm mouth descending on her shoulder, bare where the
dress had slid down a bit, brought back a small wave of
arousal again; she smiled, caught her breath, and arched up
into him involuntarily, once again sliding her hand around to
the back of his neck and holding him to her.

"I wish..." she whispered, then broke off, raising her head to
place a soft, lingering kiss on his cheek.

"I just wish...you know." I wish there weren't so many
barriers in the way of this right now. Her own illness,
Linnette, of course- all those things were reality, whereas
unlimited time to enjoy themselves was fantasy. Still,
Linnesse would have given anything for Derfel's homecoming not
to be like this. For Gedeon to have had a homecoming at all,
for that matter. For it to be different. Linnesse leaned
upwards again and nuzzled her cheek against Derfel's, placed a
couple of kisses on his earlobe and neck, and then reluctantly
subsided, lying her head back down. Though rewarding, in terms
of the kisses, it was exhausting, just holding her head up
like that.

"I haven't welcomed you properly," she murmurred from the
pillow, looking up at him and letting her fingers trace the
ridge of his cheekbone.








Linnette

Arthur
 
“While I do not question God’s purpose I can only offer
that I will never understand why we must be made to
endure the loss of those deepest in our hearts. However,
my faith in Him is what I must draw on to see through
those pains. My Lady, your husband was a fine man. I
mourn his loss and I pray for him. Please accept my
apology for having nothing further to offer you and for
not informing you personally upon my return.”


"Of course." Linnette nodded gravely in return, but though she
tried to hold eye contact with the Commander, she found it was
a futile exercise. Seeing the pity and regret in his eyes- and
it was obvious- pained her even more, and once more, tears
threatened. A fine man. Gedeon had been that and so much more.
Water clouded her vision again, and she blinked and focused
determinedly on the design of a small rug on the floor, once
more tightening her jaw, but this time to prevent it from
trembling. Her arms remained crossed- in truth she had no idea
what to do with them. There was nothing to do.

"No apology is necessary," she managed to add, in a small
voice, choked with the effort not to cry. She did glance up at
the Commander one more time, though- searching for
confirmation of the thing she had wondered about. Was Arthur
wounded? She had thought it was possible, considering his
near-immediate disappearance from the courtyard yesterday- but
there was no indication of it now, no hint of pain in his
posture. If he was hurt, he was hiding it very well indeed.

"Thank you." Another near-sob, quickly suppressed. Arthur was
a great man, as she had always thought. A great man indeed.
She owed much to him- but her husband had followed him to his
death, as well. And where did that leave her? She bowed her
head again, hoping, truthfully, that she would be dismissed
soon. Her throat ached with the effort of not crying, and
there was no more to say, anyway. Nothing could change
anything.
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Author: linnet
Date: Sat May 10, 2008 3:36 am

Gawain


When Gawain talked of Sarmatia and freedom, she seemed to
absorb the words as if they were drops of rain falling on a
beautiful but parched landscape. It was almost as if he could
see life flowering in her face and eyes as she drank in the
ideas he was sharing with her. And it fascinated him. Other
women had looked at him with rapt attention as he talked. But
he could tell by their starry-eyed gaze and awe-struck
expression that it wasn’t what he had to say that interested
them. It was who he was. They didn’t want to know him. If they
were intelligent, they went to great lengths to hide it,
perhaps fearing it would make them less feminine or
attractive. The intellect that radiated from this woman was
very attractive to the blonde knight.

Catherine
 
"Tea. Please, Gawain. And I'm Catherine."


He cocked his head to the side, raising one eyebrow a bit in
reaction to her knowing his name. It didn’t surprise him, but
it made him smile in spite of that. He was aware the knights
had an almost larger than life image. He would have bet money
that she could name all of his fellow Sarmatians here at
Badon. Still, he couldn’t help but feel a little flattered.
“Catherine,” he said, his rich voice trying out the name. He
nodded slightly as he studied her, deciding the name fit her
well. His eyes shifted to the table, without moving his head.
He had felt the touch of her finger trailing over his hand. It
seemed an almost idle gesture of friendship, comfortable. He
returned his eyes to her face, letting his hand rest where it
was, not moving it away but not returning the touch. When she
withdrew her fingers for a moment, he signaled for a server to
order more tea. Then he returned his hand to the same resting
place. He was surprised how important it seemed that she had
accepted his offer to stay a while. He wanted to learn more
about her while he had this chance. He wanted to spend more
time with this person who knew where Jutland was, and who
seemed interested in hearing about his life. He gave her a
coaxing look to encourage her to tell him more about herself.

Catherine
 
"And my interests... I dream about ... land. Foreign
lands. Of lands of sunshine and snow. Lands that have
whole winters of blackness and summers were the sun
never sets. I long for men with skin as black as coal,
women who have metal pierced into their bodies for
decoration and dedication to their gods.”


Gawain’s expression was full of wonderment as she described
the strange places she dreamed of. Did they really exist, or
were they actually only dreams? He had to find out. If she
knew of such places as these, imagine what else she might
know. His mind was forming eager questions for her. She hadn’t
looked at him, though, while she spoke. She looked down at the
table, seeming embarrassed to be telling him these things,
barely managing to reveal them in whispered tones.

Catherine
 
“I... I ... I sound silly. A whore with a dream. Isn't
that strange?"


His blue eyes suddenly became serious and intense as she
finally dared to look up at him. “You don’t sound silly,
Catherine,” he said softly. He couldn’t quite handle the
‘whore with a dream’ part. He might have told her that
everyone needed dreams, that it wasn’t strange for even a
whore to dream of a different world. But at some point she had
ceased being a whore in his eyes. He smiled reassuringly,
regaining his glow of almost childish curiosity. “Where are
lands of black winters and summers without night? Where do
women with metal piercing their bodies live? How did you learn
of these things? Show me.” He wasn’t challenging or doubting
her, but wanting her to share what she knew.
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Author: Elessars Girl
Date: Sat May 10, 2008 11:46 am

Derfel


As Derfel diligently worked to get Linnesse settled, her
fingers were grasping invitingly at the nape of his neck
again….it would take all the willpower that Derfel could
gather to refrain from….

Linnesse
 
"I wish... I just wish...you know."


“Yes…..I do,” He murmured with an affectionate smile and
shimmering blue eyes as Linnesse’s soft lips pressed to his
scruffy cheek and throat. By the gods, he needed to shave. He
gently brushed a hand over her hair and deeply inhaled her
sweet scent while attempting to push away the heavier thoughts
clouding above them both right now.

Linnesse
 
"I haven't welcomed you properly,"


Derfel’s eyebrows stitched together for a moment. ‘Properly?’

“Oh luv,” Derfel tenderly replied as his expression softened
in realization to what Linnesse had meant.

“I was ‘properly’ welcomed home the moment you smiled at me,”
He readily reassured her and then placed a warm kiss on the
corner of her sweet mouth. “I could not wait to see your
pretty face again after all that had happened….” Derfel’s
voice trailed off and he briefly shut his eyes to the horrors
of the mission. He then reached for Linnesse’s hand and kissed
at the tops of her fingers.

“You rest now, hm?” Derfel instructed while pulling the
blankets up to cover Linnesse. He then stood from their bed
and went to the small brazier in the far corner of the room.
Within moments he had the fire fully crackling again with the
addition of several sticks of wood to the flames. He brushed
his hands off on the front of his trousers and then turned an
assessing gaze on Linnesse.

“Thirsty? Need anything to eat?” Derfel queried while thinking
on what, if anything, that Linnesse might require before he
headed off to look in on Dagonet and provide Lucius with his
‘payment’ for services rendered.












Arthur

Linnette
 
"Of course. No apology is necessary,"


Arthur offered a small smile as Linnette met his gaze with
grace in her sad eyes and again thought on how incredibly
brave Linnette was, a true credit to her husband’s devotion.
Women were often weak, fragile things meant to be protected
and cherished. Arthur knew few exceptions to this rather male
propagated belief: his sister, mother and even his lover…if
Arthur would allow himself to recognize it.

Linnette
 
"Thank you."


The Commander had said all that he had intended on the matter
of the lady’s personal loss. Arthur was skilled in many areas
but shamefully incompetent in properly comforting a grieving
widow. Especially when he held himself personally responsible
for her loss. Still, Arthur reached over to gently lay a hand
on Linnette’s shoulder if only for a moment….truly not wishing
to offend her or add to her distress.

Arthur cleared his throat as he stiffly stood up from his
perch on the table. There was nothing more to say on Gedeon’s
behalf. Nothing that he could do to bring the young man back
to her. And nothing he could offer that would be of any
comfort. That much was clear in the brief silence between
them.

“Speaking of God’s will…it seems that I shall be primarily
confined to my quarters for the immediate future,” Arthur said
rather dryly, changing the subject with the intention to spare
Linnette any further discomfort. His hand moved to rather
conspicuously cover his stitches, although Arthur was not
intentionally drawing attention to his injury. His mind was
still focused on Linnette’s drawn expression.

“If you would be so kind as to have Vanora brings me the
ledgers from the tavern. I will gladly see to them personally,
giving you a reprieve from that particular task for as long as
you need,” Arthur requested while offering his arm to Linnette
with the intention of escorting her to the door.
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Author: Kayla
Date: Sat May 10, 2008 1:59 pm

Fiona


Adian
 
"Fiona...I am so glad you...are not like the other woads
as well the the others here....no one else would have
cared..."


All Fiona wanted to do was comfort him, the reason why she was
so willing to wrap him up in an embrace, like one she would
give the small woad children if they caused mischief and got
hurt because of it. She was, as cliche as the term is, a lover and not a fighter, although she really only knew about the fighting side. She had never been with a man before and it felt quite strange to be hugging one, even if he was viewed as a friend to her. But it was a good sort of strange, since she had never hugged any other man except for perhaps her father when she was a small child. His fingers began to run through her hair and she let out a soft sigh, burying her face into his shoulder. It was a comfort to her as well, with the recent loss of Brianna going back home to the woads and being by herself in the fort. She had people to be around and look after her but it didn't mean it wasn't still hard for her.

The woad involuntarily let out a tiny little gasp, barely
audible in the quiet of the room, when Adian turned his face
into the skin of her neck and nuzzled her neck and hair. He
spoke then and she took in a deep breath. "I care, so much,
Adian." She closed her eyes as he now placed a kiss on her
neck, the feel of his tear-stained face rubbing up against it
and she found herself involuntarily tilting her head to the
side at the feel of it and so that he could have better
access. It was yet another strange thing that she was feeling,
but it sent her stomach acting like it was full of butterflies
and her heart pounding, sounding like it would come out of her
chest at any moment. Altogether, in a brief moment, she felt a
mixture of the foreign, the untried aspects that she still
didn't understand about life but she also felt that Adian
cared for her. A nagging doubt still rang in her mind for some
reason, but she squashed it down for now, naive and eager to
see where this was headed.
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