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| June 2008 | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Mar 23 2010, 07:18 PM (3,698 Views) | |
| golden_trillium | Mar 28 2010, 05:18 PM Post #181 |
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Author: sabor ice Date: Sat Jun 21, 2008 12:53 am Milan
Her words of encouragement made him bow his head shyly. The newly discovered insatiable passion between them had temporarily overpowered him, but he was still naive. He knew not what he did, but only what he felt. She made him feel things he had never known before. It was all frightfully fascinating. Liquid blue eyes studied her hand against his chest, admiring the soft texture and petiteness of it in comparison to his own that now gently encompassed the extremity. So innocent, so natural, the gesture was, but it held deeper meaning than that for Milan. It reminded him of how far they had come in such a short amount of time - how far he had come. Physical affection. Emotional support. Empathy. Compassion. Love. These were all normal aspects of the human instinct, but from them Milan had been alienated. Outlandish social standings and ludicrous superstitions and beliefs had for too long condemned him to a world of sunset - impending darkness - separating him from the vital ingredients that made a person human. Mari was the sunrise he never knew he had been waiting for. He raised his gaze to meet her eyes, the ones ever filled with hope, the ones that had saved him. He took her hand from his chest, cradling it in his between their bodies. His free hand cupped the area between her jaw line and neck, and he kissed her forehead tenderly. The young man stepped back again, and gestured with a small tilt of his head for her to go dress. Even after she had left his side to do so, Milan didn't realize that he was still smiling. The only thing Milan recalled between the bathhouse and Mari's family's old cottage was holding her hand. He had also managed to stumble once or twice, but the clumsiness eluded him for she had luckily been there to catch him every time. He had tried to pay attention to where he walked, but inevitably his eyes kept sneaking glances at her face. The cottage was still standing...sort of. The substantial damage done remained the product of long time abandonment and Britain's unpredictable weather. From what Milan could see, nothing about it had changed. Inside it was cold and everything saturated from the rain. The bed remained untouched under the protective awning created from a sunken roof. The blankets and pillows were in fine disarrangement from the day and night he and Mari had spent in it together. There was one thing out of place however - the blunt instrument that had once contained hot embers and ashes lay discarded on the floor. Mari had bravely used the contents of it against the blue painted man, burning her hand in the process - he remembered. Thankfully, there was no trace of the intruder. Milan gave Mari a reassuring smile. Alina
He repelled her hand and took his tankard. It had been a deliberately harsh gesture, and it hurt really, but not as much as the way he stared at her with angry, accusing eyes. Alina shrunk back into her seat, posture almost as defensive as his. Her brown eyes never left Galahad's face, even when a serving wench momentarily interrupted to re-fill his tankard. Alina winced at his severe tone. So, this was how it was going to be? This was the price she was going to pay for a happening with Kolya? She sucked on her bottom lip pensively, gaze averting in thought. She wondered just how high the price would be to pay. "You're already upset," she pointed out in a whisper, with a slight shake of her head, eyes averted to her hands in her lap. Her posture slouched dejectedly. It was no secret that obviously Galahad knew something already. The worst part of everything was that although Alina planned to tell Galahad the truth, it couldn't be the whole truth. The whole truth would've been that although she regretted hurting Galahad, a part of her still did not regret having been with Kolya. She wasn't as sorry as she should've been. And, that truth would've killed Galahad inside. She couldn't let it happen, not when she cared for him as much as she did. Alina could never care for another man quite like she did for Galahad, yet she felt unable to express that to him, even now. Would it even matter? She lifted her head, her eyes rimmed red from weariness and upset. The pain was evident in her eyes, yet they sought no forgiveness, just understanding. She couldn't find the right words to say, because nothing seemed suffice. "I'm...I'm sorry..." Alina offered weakly, her voice small, quiet. She closed her eyes and bowed her head again, not being able to bear the hurt look on his face any longer. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 28 2010, 05:19 PM Post #182 |
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Author: Unicorn Date: Sat Jun 21, 2008 3:23 am Dagonet Derfel and Lucius have left... And while Lancelot was speaking the last words to Lavinia, Dagonet's eyes were upon his lover. She looked broke... Why was she crying? Something hurted her... or somebody? A sudden brief flash of anger hit his heart. If somebody done something to her, he will kill the bastard. But after a second anger diminished and guilt arose inside him... Was it because of him? Of his state? He wanted to speak with her, but all he could was to weakly hold her hand, to feel her little hand squeezing his big one, and look at her. This was not the time nor the place to ask those questions. The tall Sarmatian was already tired with all of the visitors... The moment he was awake exhausted him greatly. He felt like he could sleep again, but only briefly closed his eyes and allowed himself a moment to gather himself, clear his mind. Lavinia has said her part and left... leaving Dagonet with Saoirse and Lancelot, who approached the bed.
Old man... Lancelot smiled saying this and Dagonet's corners of mouth twitched to this. Sure, maybe Dagonet was older than Lancelot, but not as much as it would appear so.... Even so he had never protested about this phrase from Lancelot's mouth. He just looked at the man with understanding look and sighed, his weak half-smile disappearing. Old man. He is going to be a grandfather... Old man, who had just lost his son. The old man who has to depend of others to take care of him. Old man who could not do anything by himself right now. The once more thought of Gedeon lost for forever made him close his eyes in pain... How does he fare? Not good... But it was the last thing he could say to Lancelot. Dagonet had to pretend to be strong before his fellow Sarmatians. He have to be strong. He will not say that he was broken and far away from being good. He looked back at Lancelot with determination in his eyes, like giving the man assurance that everything will be fine in time. He was about to speak up when Saoirse, as always, spoke for him.
Dagonet looked at her as she touched his cheek tenderly and their eyes met. She was his bedrock always... His full of temper and emotions little woman. His lover. In Dagonet's eyes was sadness but also a quiet thank you for support... a little worry of her tear stained face but most of all love towards her. He was hurt... broken, but nothing will change that he loved her with all of his heart. Once she started to talked about getting healed he rolled his eyes silently with a little sigh. "I'm going to be fine.... soon" he spoke up finally adding the last word silently, not believing this himself, his eyes downcast. Near him Bors made his presence noticable and Dagonet tossed his look upon his friend, everything to escape from those questions from Lancelot. Bors wasn't looking good himself. The leg must hurt him. "Welcome back, friend." he said while his hand tried to squeez Saoirse's stronger... his eyes closing slowly to her soothing touch upon his cheek. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 28 2010, 05:21 PM Post #183 |
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Author: Pinkie Date: Sat Jun 21, 2008 3:37 pm Mari Oh it was all so new! These feelings of reciprocated love! Mari felt like she was walking on clouds as she came out of the bath-house and took Milan's hand. She felt spotless, her body a little cold but it was not something she could pay much attention to when she had so much more to consider. Like how warm Milan's hand felt against her palm, how the shadow that his body cast upon her when they turned down out of the gate of the main fortress grounds... The young woman kept looking up at Milan, catching him looking down at her and then looking away with a shy smile. And this continued until they were at teh cottage. Mari paused, gave a small start when she realised they were there already and then released Milan's hand. She stepped forward gingerly, looking into the house and stepping in through the doorway, grimacing at how wet everything was. But she was hopeful that it was not a complete loss. Biting her bottom lip and half-turning around in the centre of the little cottage, Mari gave Milan a hopeful smile. "Well... it's not as good as I thought it would be, but it's not as bad as it could be, right? We could ... we could fix it up a little, couldn't we? Fix the roof for a start... get rid of all this.." she said, stepping over a few odd bits to gesture at the rotten wooden table and chairs that were collapsed in the middle of the floor with bits of roof dangling down onto it. She took a deep breath and smiled, brightly. Nothing could keep Mari down for long, not the most dismal of projects or cruel acts! With a delighted giggle, Mari trotted over to Milan and threw her arms around his waist, laying her head against his chest, her bright, wide eyes looking around the place, seeing it as it would look rather than how it looked now - "Do you really want to do this with me Milan? To fix here for us to live?" Mari asked, looking up at the man with her arms still about his waist, her head tipped far back, her expression hopeful. One negative word from him now could shatter her hopes into a thousand pieces. "Tell me that you do - say it...?" Mari pleaded with a smile, closing her eyes and brushing her nose softly against his bottom lip, breathing in the warm scent of his breath and skin. Galahad
For some reason her statement puzzled Galahad. He had the mug of ale halfway to his lips and paused, looking at her over the rim of the tankard. His blue eyes were confused as he peered at Alina's sad face. She looked tired, very tired - and sad. She looked sorry but there was also an acceptance that sorry was not enough to her expression too, which made Galahad's stomach do a flip. Just what did he not know?! They had only been gone a day or two, hadn't they? And things had been good between them before he left?
The dark haired knight gave a snort - breaking out of his initial puzzled quandry. He tilted the tankard back to drink some of the cold ale and then wiped the back of hsi hand against his beard and moustache, smacking his lips as he looked down at the table. He didn't want his true feelings to show, the hurt feelings, the rejected feelings. The feeling that he had lost her somewhere along the way when he had thought things were good between them. He felt foolish... But righteously entitled to be angry and so he flexed his figners into his palm, glancing up at Alina from beneath a curtain of dark, curly fringe - "For what, Alina? what exactly have you done?" Galahad asked, his tone a little sinister, his words a little slurred as he sat forward, one hand clenched on his hard thigh, the other tight around the handle on the tankard he was drinking from, the knuckles turning white as he leaned in closer to Alina's slack-shouldered form. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 28 2010, 05:23 PM Post #184 |
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Author: lady ione Date: Sat Jun 21, 2008 3:53 pm Adian He liked Tatiana, and the warm feelings she had given him just as Thorn had what seemed like so long ago. Something began to stir in Adian's soul as if Thorn were telling him to let go of her and to fall in love again...but he had not known Tatiana for that long, but then he had not known Thorn for very long when they made love in the confessional. The young carpenter/hunter liked how he felt around her...he had not made love for so long that he craved her body. Would she want the same though? Adian smiled inwardly as if responding to what Thorn wanted for him. To be happy, and to find someone to have in his life. Oh! The way she smiled at him! It almost made him melt, and the way those eyes seemed to look him over, or had he imagined it?
Adian smiled as he watched her tie the leather strap at her throat to keep the cloak in place. There was something...a look perhaps....in her eyes that told him to be cautious suddenly. Was there someone else? Well, with Thorn, it had been Javier in a way. Still that had not stopped him from loving her, and taking her to be his wife. His dark heather gray eyes softened as he looked at her, then he took her arm in his and lead her to the baths. Gods above but he felt grimy and smelly! "Well, I would appreciate that, love. I will make you a deal: You can wash my back if I can give you a bath after you are done with me." To Adian, it sounded like something any woman would have jumped at the chance to do. His eyes sparkled hoping that she'd say yes. It would be just the two of them.... They walked in silence to the baths where he went over to a secluded area. He stopped and looked at Tatiana. So innocent and so worth fighting for. Looking about, Adian began to take off his tunic revealing old scars from his past....a past he wanted to forget. Aware that Tatiana could see his back, Adian tuned quickly so that she could not see. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 28 2010, 05:24 PM Post #185 |
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Author: Elessars Girl Date: Sat Jun 21, 2008 4:53 pm Derfel While Derfel had been attempting to muster up enough courage to present Linnette with his idea, he had completely forgotten Drake’s presence. But when it was the older man who supplied the answer to his question, blue eyes snapped to Drake’s weathered expression.
The new Optio had ordered this? Derfel sighed through his nose as Drake’s further comment on Arthur sank in as well. The older man was probably right. Arthur may not be aware of this ‘order’, but this was the Roman army after all and there were rules and proper protocol among the officers. But Derfel also knew Arthur to be different and was already beginning to work out what he’d say to the Commander on Linnette’s behalf when the lady herself spoke up.
Derfel’s gaze lingered on Linnette’s troubled expression. He was not accustomed to hearing defeat in her voice, but it seemed to be there in regards to this particular issue. Surely she was not herself and for good reason…Derfel certainly sympathized. But shouldn’t they…..wait a moment….hadn’t Linnesse told him that the sisters had actually met Scipio years ago? Perhaps if they all went to the Optio together they could persuade him….surely he could be persuaded in her favor…right? And Derfel would not have to suggest what had originally popped into his head as it was a foolish notion at best. Surely Linnette would have no part of sharing….
Derfel’s eyes widened with surprise. Linnesse had somehow read his thoughts on the matter and gave it voice, thus effectively sparing the young knight from Linnette’s wrath had it come from Derfel’s mouth instead. He bit at his bottom lip expecting an unfavorable reaction from Linnette at any moment now. But Linnesse was all smiles as she turned expectantly towards her sister. It could work. Maybe. If the gods would gift Derfel with a never ending supply of patience.
Linnette did not immediately rebuke the suggestion which gave Derfel a glimmer of hope that an amicable solution could indeed be found. Linnesse was obviously eager for his input as her eyes flickered from Linnette to Derfel repeatedly. “I….well I had…” Derfel’s voice sounded a bit rough as he attempted to weigh in on Linnesse’s suggestion. He had hoped that Linnette would answer first, but perhaps with a little more encouragement from him. Or not. Derfel shifted his weight from one foot to the other, a bit apprehensive as he put on a brave face and opened his mouth to continue. “Aye, it would make things easy and a bit more convenient to be helpin’ out with the little one if we were sharing those adjoining rooms,” Derfel finally spit out and held his breath while awaiting Linnette’s response. While it was true they rarely saw eye to eye on any matter, surely Derfel and Linnette could make due as they were family now with his impending marriage to Linnesse. And with Gedeon gone (that pain was still very fresh in Derfel’s heart as well) Derfel would feel it only right that he looked after Linnette. But sharing two adjoining rooms meant a loss of some privacy for Derfel and Linnesse. Selfish as it was, he couldn’t help feeling a bit awkward about that part. Yet, he doubted Linnette would agree to such an arrangement at any rate. Derfel gave Linnesse an encouraging smile and lightly touched the small of her back. He’d do anything his lover wished at any rate…no matter what. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 28 2010, 05:25 PM Post #186 |
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Author: golden_trillium Date: Sat Jun 21, 2008 7:18 pm Linnette and Linnesse
"It would, wouldn't it?" Linnesse replied eagerly, looking up lovingly at Derfel, her eyes shining with relief that he had agreed to the plan. His smile told her that- and she couldn't have been happier with it. She turned back towards Linnette, her face alight with a smile, which only broadened when Linnette, looking rather puzzled and thoughtful, nodded slowly. "Well...I wouldn't want to be a..." Linnette trailed off, glancing over at Derfel and scrutinizing him as discreetly as possible for signs of reluctance. He had definitely hesitated when he had first started to speak...but there was honestly no trace of objection on his face now. She twisted once more in her seat, shooting another rather apprehensive glance back at Drake- while across from her, Linnesse felt a quiet stab of annoyance at that. What did he have to do with all this? Why was he still following Linnette around, hours after the crisis of finding her on the wall had been resolved? And why was she looking to him almost as if for permission? She was just on the point of maybe saying something about that, when Linnette's eyes turned back to her, and she spoke again. "I suppose it might be best. For now, at least." The corner of Linnette's mouth tugged up in a hesitant attempt at a smile, and Linnesse smiled broadly again and scooted forward off the stool, throwing her arms around Linnette again. "Oh, good! And it will be no trouble at all, Linnette- none. Never think that." She reassured her sister firmly, then stepped back, breaking the embrace, and her eyes widened as she seemed to realize something. "Goodness, this will be a big job," she murmurred, only now beginning to picture in her head the task of moving all of Linnette's things, plus all of her and Derfel's things. There was a great deal to do, and she herself was not nearly at her full strength yet- but perhaps that was all the more reason to get started soon. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 28 2010, 05:26 PM Post #187 |
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Author: Starbelle Date: Sat Jun 21, 2008 7:20 pm Tatiana
"Sure, Adian. That definetly sounds like a fair deal to me." Tatiana replied with a nod as a sneaky grin appeared on her face, making her emerald eyes light up with just a hint of mischief after briefly thinking about it after they arrived at the baths. Glancing around, she thought that she saw just a quick glimpse of his back before he turned around to face her before she mentally shook her head then she too headed over to the changing areas and finding a towel, shyly wrapped herself up in it after leaving her tunic, trews and boots behind in the changing area. Sitting on the wall in front, she moved her bare feet back and forth in the water, acting just like a little girl about to go swimming, still wrapped up in the towel while waiting for Adian to appear. Maybe Bren and I should just remain as friends and put Adian in the running as a friend then work up from there. He seems more like the adventurous type..like me. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 28 2010, 05:28 PM Post #188 |
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Author: Lancelot Date: Sat Jun 21, 2008 7:23 pm Lancelot The knight sat on an empty stool, setting his 'new' leathers down at his feet. His swords he laid across his knees; he would be damned if he forgot them somewhere again. Arthur - damn it. One way or another - things will be settled between us. Even if it means never touch - He watched the redhead with brows that continued to rise as she answered before Dagonet could - probably a good thing, as the injured man did not look so well. Saoirse had a strange look about her; Lancelot had always felt he could open his large mouth and spew words to this one and never hear a crosswise comment from her - unless of course she felt he was in the wrong, and then she'd let him know in no uncertain terms. That was one of the things he liked about the Irish woman - that and her firey hair and temper. Dags was lucky to have this one.
Despite her strong words, Saoirse still glanced at Lancelot askance, her eyes not seeming to match the daring expression her face wore. He would have to figure it out later - right now was not the time for analysing, especially when he was so exhausted and not really caring about anything else but a bath and some food. ...and an injured commander, who is being stubborn yet again. He'd best have stayed in bed. Lancelot lowered his chin and gazed at Saoirse through narrowed eyes, a small smile decorating his angular and still dirty features. "My love, you cannot deny that he is my elder, can you? But ah well," he sighed overly dramatically, and winked at Dagonet. "And don't you worry about Arthur giving orders any time soon. If that 'eejit' tries to get out of his bed, he will be lashed to it quick as you can say 'bondage.'" His sarcasm tempered, and he met her eyes dead on. "No worries, lamb. Dagonet will stay here for as long he needs to. And speaking of - " Lancelot turned his head to gaze at said knight.
Lancelot twisted his mouth as he assesed his brother. "You'd best do whatever you need to to make sure that does happen, friend. I'd rather not have to tie you and Arthur down." He touched the other Sarmatian's arm gently, and met his gaze for a moment without speaking, trying to communicate his sense of loss for Dagonet's pain without speaking. Lancelot was a man of multiple words, but not when it came to serious subjects or matters of the heart. He figured it was best to let the person involved sort things out on their own. Besides, he knew Dags would ask if he needed something from Lancelot. Bors stirred on the bed next to Dagonet, and as the tall knight greeted the grumpy one, Lancelot looked to Saoirse again. "He will be cared for. I promise you." His dark gaze met her equally fierce one and held for a moment, and then he broke it, not willing to sustain anything that required that much emotion. Swinging 'round to look at the other two men, Lancelot mock pouted and made a tutting sound. "Ah, Bors. And here I'd thought I might have won our bet by default." He laughed, a bit too harshly, and stood. "Dags," he said. "I'm going to report to Arthur that you're functioning - but listen, old man," he emphasized the term with a smirk, "if I so much as hear a whisper of you out of this bed before the warden there," he nodded back toward where Lavinia had gone, "tells you you can, you'll have me to answer to. And I'm not as nice as Arthur." He smiled and turned to go, but hesitated as he picked up his leathers. He crouched next to Dag for a moment, and spoke to him alone. "I am sorry for your loss." And then Lancelot stood and made to leave again, eager to get the fuck out of the infirmary and away from the omnipresent sense of death. He had had enough of that to last him a lifetime. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 28 2010, 05:30 PM Post #189 |
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Author: linnet Date: Sat Jun 21, 2008 8:01 pm Juna
The sadness behind Merlin’s words made Juna regret her question. Not having been close to anyone since being taken by the Woads, death to her had remained faceless. But today, she found herself thinking of one particular fallen warrior, the young man whose name she had never bothered to remember. He had been so full of life, cocky and boastful, and devoted to his little sister. When Juna had patched up his wounds from many battles, his body, though scarred, had seemed strong enough to survive any damage. Now he was no more. For Merlin, she knew, every lost Woad was someone he knew and mourned. She was sorry for turning his thoughts in such a sobering direction. She had been thinking about the fact that the Woad retreat meant those like Eala’s brother, who died during the battle had to be left behind. And that had taken her thoughts to the next question she wanted to ask. But Merlin answered it without any further words from her.
She had lived among these people for many years, and knew almost nothing about their beliefs. She hadn’t been interested. She knew they worshipped more than one god. But other than the fact that they talked to Merlin and seemed keen on war, she didn’t know them. She had watched rituals celebrating the gods, as well as life passage rituals, but as a non-participating observer only. Were they stern and vengeful gods? Did they reside in some other world? Did they have personalities? What did they demand of their followers, and what did they offer in return? Juna’s thoughts about death had started as her normal practical search for factual information, but Merlin’s inescapable aura of spirituality as he answered, drew her mind in an unfamiliar direction. Did his gods promise an afterlife? And would they accept or reject those who could not be put to rest with the tribal funeral ceremony? Merlin’s few simple words gave her the answer, and a calming feeling brushed lightly over her like a soft warm breeze. Juna lifted her eyes from the ground in front of her to Merlin’s face. Both he and she were mortal humans, sharing time and space. But they experienced the world so differently. He inhabited a place of spirits, of mystery and faith. Such things were beyond Juna’s understanding. Still, for a moment she had felt something that might have come from a place not of reason. “It’s good that the gods keep them,” she said quietly, looking back downward as they walked. “Thank you,” she added, for his indulgence which she understood, and perhaps for the touch from another world which she did not understand. It may have had nothing to do with Merlin’s presence, but she would credit him. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 28 2010, 05:30 PM Post #190 |
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Author: lady ione Date: Sat Jun 21, 2008 8:31 pm Adian He did not bother standing behind anything to undress, and was about to undo his belt to his breeches when Tatiana spoke...
Her eyes glowed of mischief in the dim light of the gray day that snuck into the bathing area. Had she seen his back? Adian knew what price he had paid for those: killing of a deer on a nobleman's property so he and his parents could eat. The price had been one of humiliation and pain, and it was a lesson that Adian had never forgotten. His thoughts broke as he watched her slender figure move off to a private area. Shrugging, the young man dropped his pants and stepped out of them now standing totally naked in the light of the afternoon. Tatiana had not come out yet, so Adian made his way over to the edge of the pool like baths, and stepped down the steps into the warm water....moving in until his lower body was covered with water.... He stopped as she reappeared wrapped in a towel. Adian could not understand why Tatiana had wrapped her body in such a manner when she was going to take a bath. Nah....she can't be THAT shy.... He thought watching her take a place on the wall so that she could swing her dainty feet in the water. By heavens she was a temptress! Was she aware of what she was doing to him without trying? Adian moved forward and stood before Tatiana his eyes holding hers. He slowly reached out and unwrapped the towel from her body without breaking her gaze. Her body was lovely, and why she had wanted to hide it was beyong him. Reaching out for a bar of soap and a clean cloth, Adian placed them where he could reach them, then reached out and took Tatiana's hand, "Come into the water, so that I can bathe you first. I promise I will not take advantage of you....I only want to hold on to our deal..." |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 28 2010, 05:31 PM Post #191 |
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Author: linnet Date: Sat Jun 21, 2008 8:56 pm Mother Lavinia
“We won’t need your foots. Your fingers will do fine,” Lavinia assured her companion as she bent down to place the tiny foot back snugly in its slipper. That done, she straightened up and offered her hand for the bright eyed child to either ignore or take to get back on her feet.
“Inventory is just counting things to see if you have enough of them. It doesn’t hurt at all. Before we do the inventory, we have to stop in my office,” the nun said. She started in that direction, with Fleur hurrying to keep up, in constant peril of tripping again over her new green dress. Seeing the danger, Lavinia stopped. “Do this,” she said, grabbing a section of the skirt of her habit in each hand and lifting until a glimpse of her swollen old ankles appeared above her well-worn black shoes. “This is how rich ladies walk so their fancy dresses don’t get muddy.” The old woman led the way to her office like that, paying no heed to the puzzled looks from patients and staff as she and the little one passed by. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 28 2010, 05:34 PM Post #192 |
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Author: sabor ice Date: Sun Jun 22, 2008 12:14 am Mordred Mordred had fallen characteristically silent again. It was not that he had nothing to say - time and experience had simply taught him that actions spoke louder than words. His non-verbal senses were extraordinarily keen. His attention to detail was painstakingly considerate. Sharp hearing and a watchful eye had kept him alive more than once before. Observation prompted opportunities for advantage. In such dark times, a man could not afford to not be studious - his life may have depended on it. The knight looked on apathetically as Tristan investigated the seemingly deserted campsite, his posture perfectly statuesque in his saddle. Lucifer's reigns occupied one hand at his thigh, while the other rested on the hilt of his sword. Soulless eyes swiveled in the scout's direction as he beckoned for the Optio. Mordred took note of Amadeus' silent instruction to watch the prisoner. He did not openly acknowledge the task, save for his claw-like digits wrapping sinisterly about the butt of his blade. Oh, he would not kill the bitch if she stirred up trouble, as it was unfortunately not his place, but he had been given no restriction of immobilizing her if and however necessary. The trees swayed unnaturally in the wind, every bough crooked and tipped with a jagged pincer. They seemed to loom ominously, threatening to come alive and smite those unwelcome in its icy realm. The wood in winter was the playground of the Devil. How ironically fitting it was for its local sub-human inhabitants. Mordred cast a dull glance in Neeria's direction, before returning his attention to his surroundings. Watching. Waiting. If the Woad had indeed led them into an ambush, Mordred would be ready. Fleur
Place Fleur in front of a hardened soldier, and she'd kiss his nose. Cross her with a deranged mutt, and she'd insist on still trying to love it. Face the girl with a menacing bottle of medicine, and she'd run for the hills. The relief Fleur felt to hear no medicine would be involved had her instantly smiling again. Even if Lavinia had been lying, she would have reacted the same way. She hardly knew the woman, and yet she was naturally compelled to believe her. The healer had never wronged her, so the bond of eminent trust remained unbroken.
Fleur skipped along merrily after the woman, ignorant to the danger her slightly over-sized dress presented. Lavinia halted in mid-step and Fleur nearly bonked into her. The blonde peered up at the healer curiously, cocking her head to the side in consideration of Lavinia's advice. The woman demonstrated her meaning. Fleur hunkered forward, hands on her knees, as she watched the effect of the woman raising the hem of her dress. Fleur wrinkled her nose, momentarily distracted by the sight of the woman's swollen ankles. She giggled at how odd they looked in comparison to her own. The healer led the way to her office, and Fleur diligently tried to copy-cat her. She grabbed her green dress with both hands, yanking it up a ways, blissfully unaware of how awkward she appeared toddling after Lavinia with her hem hiked well above her knobby knees. To her, this all felt like a silly game rather than a lesson. "Them rich ladies walk funny then. I never saw a lady 'round here walkin' like this," Fleur giggled, watching her thin pale legs in motion as she walked. She was far from trying to be insolent. Inside Lavinia's office, Fleur dropped the edges of her dress and twisted her little hands comfortably around her back, teetering anxiously side-to-side as she waited. Her curious blue eyes darted all about the room. "Do you live here 'Vinia?" she wondered. Alina
Alina placed an elbow on the table, bringing up her palm to rest her forehead against. She sucked in and released a deep breath through her nostrils, glancing momentarily past her arm around the infirmary for anyone who might've seen her with Kolya. Well, several of those present had seen them, but not together - they had owned the baths at the time, or so she had thought. Her gaze briefly lingered on Drake's form; she shivered in recollection of him having walked into the storeroom while she and Kolya had been... She closed her eyes and shook away the thought. Drake would never have said anything to Galahad, this she knew for a fact. So how then did Galahad seem to know something? Perhaps her odd behavior the previous night had aroused suspicion in him, but why would he have asked her specifically about Kolya unless he was positive Kolya was the culprit? It didn't matter now. She leaned into the table, arms lightly crossed. For a long while Alina remained silent, reflective, gaze averted. She was still, but not terribly tense, despite the waves of agitation she felt accumulating from Galahad's side of the table. "Please believe it had nothing to do with you," Alina pleaded. The woman idly wondered if it might've made any difference to explain to Galahad how confused and torn and utterly messed up she had been at the time - how she still felt the same way even now - but her conscience wouldn't allow another excuse to surface. She would own up for her actions. She would take the blame. "I was with Kolya," she admitted quietly, her voice thick with emotion. Alina was hesitant to raise her brown gaze to meet Galahad's, but the anticipation was unbearable. From beneath glistening dark lashes, Alina watched him for his reaction. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 28 2010, 05:37 PM Post #193 |
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Author: Pinkie Date: Sun Jun 22, 2008 4:05 am Drake Drake made no reaction to Linnette agreeing with him. He continued to listen into the conversation, still feeling a little out of place. And he wasn't sure that his presence was much welcomed by Linnesse or Derfel. But he couldn't blame them really. In reality, who was he to be standing around involved in this conversation of such private matters as where to house one of their family members? He was just an old soldier with too much time on his hands, too many emotional scars from a time long past and too much of a responsibility complex to let go when the opportunity presented itself.
Linnesse's words made Drake's shoulders tense, his face turned to stone and he looked from the blonde to the top of her sister's auburn head. Share? Immediately Drake tried to pick holes in the idea - like the fact that such a young and 'active' couple like Linnesse and Derfel would need private time to themselves, like the fact that being in such close proximity to a happy, complete couple would remind Linnette of what she had lost, like the fact that Drake knew he would not be welcome in the co-joining rooms of Derfel and Linnesse - but in the overall scheme of things it did mean Linnette would not be alone, it would mean Linnette had somewhere to live and she was not sharing with someone she knew, and it would mean that when she did break down and cry someone would be there to pick her up again. Even if it wasn't to be himself. Resolutely Drake did not think of that last statement - about the baby. It did no good to consider all that was attached to the babe that grew within Linnette right now.
Drake stared hard at Derfel, wondering at the man's initial hesitation. He was prepared to lurch in awkwardly in defense of Linnette but it seemed there was no need. The Saxon quickly spat out what he had to say and left the Spaniard wondering what exactly was between Linnette and Derfel that he had seemed initially uncertain. And did that mean the blonde would make things awkward for Linnette whilst sharing the room? When Linnette looked up at him Drake just glanced down at her, his green eyes unfathomable. This decision was all hers - he had no say in it, and should not have a say in it. His eyes flickered up to catch the momentary flash of irritation in Linnesse's eyes. He did not react to it but he did make a note to himself to ensure, with Linnette, that his continued presence at her back was what she wanted. He was only there for her - should she wish him to leave her be then he would disappear. Disappear but remain close enough that he would hear her call him back. Linnesse's comment about it being a big job was all too true. Drake felt he had put himself to the fore a little too much with his earlier comment about the Optio, but he wanted to reassure Linnette that he would help her with her side of things and so he placed his large, rough hand on her shoulder, waited for her to turn her head and gave her a nod of his head. He had no official duties until this threat of woad attack had passed and his soldiers could be spared from their duties to do extra training. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 28 2010, 05:39 PM Post #194 |
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Author: Darya Date: Sun Jun 22, 2008 7:14 am Darya
Darya blinked at Gabriel’s words and just looked at him in silence as she let them sink in. They made her pretty away of how little she knew about children. Except for the few moments with one or two of Vanora’s kids, the Sarmatian had never had much to do with children…so far. And for obvious reasons. She had been trained to kill…surrounded by men mainly. There had been no place for and no time or reason to think of kids. Or having one. Until a few days ago. Pressing her lips into a pensive thin line, the dark-haired did not reply to Gabe’s words but just followed the man until they reached his old home…or so she thought. However, the strange stench that definitely had its origin inside the building they were standing in front of soon distracted her from her thoughts. It let a cool shiver run down her spine and she unconsciously made a small step backwards…just to be pretty startled by a male voice suddenly reaching her ears. Her dark gaze snapped up and fell onto a really old man with milky white eyes. Darya furrowed her brow…
The woman’s lips parted…but before she had the chance to say something, Gabriel already replied to the man. What followed was a brief but pretty informative conversation between the two men, to which Darya listened in silence while her eyes shifted from one man to the other as they spoke. The most interesting part for her was when the old man questioned Gabriel’s identity. It made the Sarmatian frown slightly. Why was he doubting who Gabriel said he was? But the dark-haired shoved those thoughts aside for now when she heard that apparently, Gabriel’s wife had died. Immediately, her gaze was on him…searching for a reaction to that news. But there was none; nothing obvious at least. Maybe he had not realized what the old man had said yet. Or what it meant for him… But for her, it explained the nasty stench, which still made her feel rather sick. Pulling her cloak a bit more about her body, Darya then watched the old man, Hans, slowly walk away when the conversation with Gabriel had ended. There were some strange persons living at Badon Hill…and she wondered just how many of them she would meet in the future…
With that, her attention was back on Gabriel…and Darya instinctively grimaced at the mentioning of the infirmary. Definitely her least favourite place at Badon…well, next to the dungeons. But then…Gabriel had only asked her to lead him to that place. No word about accompanying him inside. Good. The Sarmatian nodded and gestured into the direction she knew the infirmary was. “That way”, she said and made the first steps already. She really wanted to get away from the house and the stench of death. “I’m…I’m sorry…for your loss…”, Darya then added and glanced up sideways at Gabriel, “…and I hope the children are alright. What were their names again?” |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 28 2010, 05:41 PM Post #195 |
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Author: Pinkie Date: Sun Jun 22, 2008 8:39 am Saoirse Saoirse never liked it when Lancelot smiled at her. It usually meant he was up to something remembering something that he had been up to - and neither possibility was a good one. It was rare that Lancelot was up to something that he aught to be up to. In a sense he was rather like herself in that respect - always doing something that you shouldn't be doing. Running away from home, running away from the past...
Saoirse bristled at being called 'love', and positively blew a blood vessel at 'lamb'. Her nose twitched and her hand about Dagonet's tightened defensively, her blue eyes flaring up a cold storm towards Lancelot. She was, however, somewhat placated by the First Knight's promise not to drag Dagonet out on any mission by strapping Arthur to a bed. For a moment the red-head visually probed Lancelot and how he seemed to be quite ... tense, when speaking of Arthur and getting out of his bed. The Commander had been injured, she recalled something on that before but had dismissed it, rather caught up in her own worries to worry about Arthur. Such hardship for Arthur was borne quite defensively on Lancelot's shoulders.
Soon. The red head looked down at Dagonet, her hand on his cheek beginning to stroke again. Gentle sweeps of her thumb against his stubbled skin with the intention of soothing him. In truth it was soothing her, reminding her that he was alive, that he was going to be fine, that he was hers still. Despite everything, despite all she had done to make him turn her away he still loved her. Would Lancelot know a love like that? Saoirse glanced over at the First Knight and found him to be looking straight into her eyes. Dagonet was greeting Bors and there was nowhere else for her to look - so she met his dark eyes levelly. Penetrating. Did Lancelot know love like this between her and Dagonet? Did he understand the terror of recognising that love? Something in his gaze now told her that there was more, much more to him than what he ever let on. She had already known that, of course, but now she realised what these things were that no-one knew about him. It was his heart, his true feelings. He broke eye-contact and Saoirse frowned, irritated that he had looked away and broken that moment where she had been figuring things out.
Harumphing, Saoirse looked down at Dagonet again, sliding her foot up his shin and resting her knee across his, pouting. "No yer bloody not - an' yer manners are about as refined as a hangman's." she murmured, giving a small start when Lancelot crouched next to Dagonet momentarily. Saoirse withdrew her head, looking at the side of Lancelot's face, seeing his cheek move as he spoke but not hearing the words. He rose and started out of the infirmary with record speed leaving Saoirse gawping after him. What was that then? The red head looked down at Dagonet, over at the retreating back of Lancelot and then back to the tall knight with a disatisfied growl as she snuggled down next to him, her back to waking Bors, her face buried in against Dagonet's stiff neck where she breathed in the warm scent of him with a shaky breath. "If he was a colt y'd have sent him off fer meat by now." she muttered more to herself than to her lover. |
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