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| June 2008 | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Mar 23 2010, 07:18 PM (3,697 Views) | |
| golden_trillium | Mar 28 2010, 05:42 PM Post #196 |
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Author: golden_trillium Date: Sun Jun 22, 2008 8:58 am Merlin
"For what?" The spell broken, Merlin turned back to Juna with a shrug and a small, amused, but affectionate smile. What had he done that she should thank him for? Given reassurance, maybe...but he hadn't thought he was offering a great deal of it, truthfully. Though if it made her feel better, he could scarcely argue with that. He took a breath, intending to say something else, perhaps to elaborate on that topic, but the words died on his lips- one of the scouts detached himself from one of the tree limbs nearby, jumped to the ground, and ran up to the Woad leader, an urgent expression on his face. "Merlin..." he paused a moment, waiting to be acknowledged, his breath coming hard and fast. Merlin, his body tensing in sudden worry- were they being followed, then?- stepped once more out of the column to the side of the path so they woulnd't impede others, and nodded for the man to continue. "Speak," he ordered tersely, and the man anxiously began to deliver his report. "Merlin...four riders have left the fort. One of them we think is the slave scout, the other three we're not sure. We only saw them at a distance." The man paused for a moment, eying Merlin a bit hesitantly, and Merlin knew that this was not the most worrying part of the report. There was more coming, and it was something that made his scout very anxious indeed. "They..." the scout swallowed apprehensively, and Merlin gave another impatient nod, encouraging him to go on. He didn't need prevarication- he needed to know what was going on! The scout sensed Merlin's impatience and continued, his words now flowing out in a rush. "They have Neeria with them, sir. She rides with the scout. And they're headed towards the camp." The scout backed up a step, as the words fell like a rock sinking into deep water into Merlin's heart. So it was true- Mona had been right! Neeria must have betrayed them- she was leading them towards the camp, and it was only by the fortuitous designs of the Gods that Merlin and all his people had already left! Though...if the whole group had still been there, they could have taken care of four riders and one traitor relatively easily, but now...Merlin's stomach sickened when he remembered who was still left in the camp- the five warriors he had ordered to stay behind and support Guinevere, Ash, and their party. For that matter, any or all of the rescue party might or might not be in the area, too, either not gone into the fort yet, or already out after having rescued poor Eala. And five warriors, or even eight, one healer, and a possibly wounded girl, were no match for four horsemen if they were taken unawares. The whole situation was dangerous. Something had to be done- and fast. Merlin could only pray to the Gods that it was not already too late to help. "Thank you- go back to your post and keep watching. Let me know at once if anyone else rides from the fort. Nolan!" Merlin was already whirling into action, making small 'hurry up' gestures to some of the wounded walking past as he made his way over to the other side of the column and some ways back, to where his trusted lieutenant walked. "We may have a problem. Four riders, and Neeria with them, going towards the camp." He paused just a second, letting that- and the significance of the now-very-likely-traitoress- sink in, before continuing. "The majority of the people must keep going. They must try to hurry as much as possible." Merlin glanced uneasily at the marching column, the slowness of it, the many bloody bandages in evidence. Damn. "I want you to take twenty of the most able bodied. Backtrack along the trail and try to cover our tracks as far back as you can. Once you get within sight of the riders, wait to see what they do. If they want to talk, I will talk." Talk might clear up some things about Neeria's involvement, if it were possible- though Merlin did not hold out real hopes for her innocence now. "But if they offer you a fight- kill them. All of them." The words fell like a hammer blow on Neeria's fate, though Merlin did not mention her explicitly. Nolan would know what he meant. A traitor deserved no better than death, and often a whole lot worse. Though...it was so strange- she had never been anything but loyal to the cause before. "I'll follow you shortly with a few more warriors," Merlin concluded, glancing again uneasily over his shoulder at the painfully slow progress of the column. He would have to chivvy them along a little- put someone in charge- then he would set off after Nolan's group, and meet these four riders where the rest of his people would be safe. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 28 2010, 05:43 PM Post #197 |
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Author: Elessars Girl Date: Sun Jun 22, 2008 9:13 am Derfel Linnesse seemed quite pleased with Derfel’s response; however his focus remained on her sister. And while he awaited Linnette’s reaction with gut-twinging apprehension, Derfel had not noticed Drake’s gravelly and assessing stare. Once again, the younger man had overlooked the Spaniard’s presence as this ‘family’ matter was being discussed.
Derfel finally breathed again quite content that Linnette seemed to welcome the idea. And only then when the focus was not so much on his own concerns was it that the younger man noticed Drake again. And he saw the Spaniard’s hand touch Linnette’s shoulder presumably in platonic support. Just when had the two become ‘friends’? No matter…first things first and that was getting the three of them settled into new rooms…together. “No trouble at all,” Derfel echoed Linnesse’s words in a genuinely kind tone. He and Linnette had had their differences in the past, but he was willing to put all that aside now and do what was best for her and the baby. And Derfel thought Dagonet would be pleased about the arrangement as well. Derfel reached for his mug and took a rather large gulp of ale then and thanked the gods there had been no argument between the sisters. He wiped at the excess liquid on his lips with the back of his hand and glanced back over his shoulder to be sure Lucius was still about. If Derfel had to ‘move’ the sisters this afternoon, he’d need some help and it didn’t cross his mind to think of Drake. “What would needin’ to be done first? Do we have to speak to whatever Roman officer is in charge of the housing?” Derfel asked while setting his now empty mug back down on the bar and motioning a serving girl for another. Probably not too wise to drink so much ale so quickly on an empty stomach, but considering what the knight had just agreed to do….well, Derfel figured he could use it right now. Would Gedeon approve? Derfel prayed to Bel that he was doing what his best friend would want. And by the gods….a baby. Derfel’s eyebrows rose nearly up to his hairline as he briefly had a flash of what the summer months would bring; newly married and providing for not only his wife, but her sister and child. May the gods give me strength. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 28 2010, 05:46 PM Post #198 |
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Author: Unicorn Date: Sun Jun 22, 2008 10:48 am Dagonet
The slight sigh and wink from Lancelot almost made Dagonet smirk at him. Elder....!! What was the man trying to imput? Dagonet listened to the way Lancelot used the same word descibing Arthur and gave the man a little shake of his head. Both Lancelot and Saoirse had their tongues... hot tempered and always ready to say what they wanted to say. It was good to hear that none further orders are coming up soon. Dagonet really needed rest... Also he needed some more time to mend his broken heart, if it ever was possible. Pain of loosing Gedeon fresh and breathtaking. Dagonet felt Saoirse's hand thightening about his own and looked at her for a second before turning back to Lancelot... It was obvious the words spoken by Lancelot made her somehow uneasy or even slightly angry. He was not aware of Saoirse studying Lancelot closely, but something in the First Knight's expression caught Dagonet's attention. Plainly Lancelot was worried about something... His face weary, even if he tried to keep it inside him. Dagonet could see this.. but dared not to ask. As the tall knight spoke up about being good soon, Lancelot assesed him and Dagonet saw disbelief in his eyes. Well maybe he was not feeling good enought to stand by himself, but there was too much proud inside him to admitt it himself. He felt Saoirse thumb stroking his cheek and it brought some more comfort, but his eyes were upon Lancelot as he talked.
Gentle touch of a friend upon his arm and his words were the things he expected from Lancelot... But the intense look Lancelot gave him was unexpected and sudden. His dark eyes looked deep into his and told him more than any word could ever say. Compation and understanding... readiness to help in any way. Dagonet silently nodded his head with serious expression, understanding the silent message from his friend. Besides vision of being tied to the bed was the worst Dagonet could imagine. It would be foolish to leave the bed now, as he did not feel strong enough to do so.
As his attentions were upon Bors, Lancelot spoke up to Saoirse and Dagonet didn't catch the sense of the words. And only the sound the dark knights made turned Dagonet's eyes back to him. Lancelot laughed at his own words and stood up.
Old man... Lancelot was not pushing his limits... Dagonet was used to it by now. Bors was the eldest one here within the knights, but Dagonet was not much younger than him and add to this his sizes and the way he acted made the other Sarmatian see him as the old one. Strong and more expirenced than others maybe. Lancelot was acting sometimes like a child in Dagonet's eyes... but he was a good friend and a good knight. He had potential in him that not everybody could see in him... But Arthur did it many years ago. Once more Lancelot reminded the tall knight that he was doomed for this bed again... That he was helpless about the situation.
Dagonet shook his head at both Lancelot's and Saoirse's words, before looking deep into Lancelot's eyes and nodding his head. "You can't intimidate me, young one..." he warned Lancelot. He briefly looked into Lavinia's direction. "...but she certainly scares me off!" he attempted a little joke, even if he himself didn't smile. Then Lancelot crouched beside him... Dagonet observed him with stern look.
Words spoken to him silently... only for him. Dagonet's heart beated a little harder against his thight chest and he swallowed roughly as he watched Lancelot walking away. He felt that he could again. To surrender to the grieve once more... and forgett about the things he said. About going on without his son.. about trying to live a normal life... about his promise to get well.. and just let his heart break and die broken.
Dagonet felt Saoirse's warmth closer as she laid herself down closer to him, her head in the crack of his neck, felt her warm breath upon his neck and the way her hands held him gently. He closed his eyes in pain and gathered his strenghts to dismiss his dark thoughts. His arm went around Saoirse slender form and weakly held her clolser.. breathing in the scent of her hair. And he realised that all he needed was to feel her so close. That it will bring him comfort. Only this.. Nothing else and nobody else could mend his broken heart and soul. He did not even listen to her words. Mere presence of her was enough. He was silent... lost in a moment. Forgetting about even Bors next to him. HE wanted this moment to last forever. A lonely tear rolled down his cheek as Gedeon's face came to his mind and exhaustion with pain caught his whole body... He tensed a little and felt his heart beating hard. Gods, keep my son safe in your arms... keep my daughter safe, wherever she is... |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 28 2010, 05:47 PM Post #199 |
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Author: TwistOfShadows Date: Sun Jun 22, 2008 12:36 pm Eyla Oh, Eyla was not interested in war! She was merely interested in conversation, and perhaps gaining his trust. The Roman was clearly cautious of his masculinity around Eyla, and it amused her greatly. Most men would have submitted by now, and thrown caution to the winds. Where was the harm in achieving such peaks of pleasure? Apparently it damaged a Christian’s soul, but Eyla did not believe such nonsense. If their God truly existed, then he was a cruel and merciless creature with a talent for dishing out despairs. Why worship such a hideous deity? Eyla loved her life because she was not tied to loyalties or commitments; it was easier to love oneself and no-one else. It was more satisfying, and regained a sense of control. Eyla would never be a naïve woman who sought desperately for a husband and protection, because she did not want for it. The whore would live a sinful and gratifying life, and die surrounded by…pretty things. Bangles, coins….and perhaps a few books? The thought brought an amused gleam to her dark eyes, and her lips lilted into a smile. Did Artorius know that she read his scriptures and parchments whilst he was away? Did he know that her mind was ruled by curiosity? She was interested in his more…serious affairs, because it was a world she didn’t understand. And if she aimed to gain his trust and take advantage? Well…a little research could do little harm… Could Eyla prove to be his distraction? Truly yes. The woman was stunning, and she used vanity as a weapon. The woman’s dark hair curled with a passionate luster, kissing her skin as it draped down her arms and back. Her small and delicate cheekbones bestowed a strange grace to her features, and it was disarming to most. She could play innocent, she could play wicked. It was the game of seduction that excited her, and she yearned to discover every man’s wants and needs. It was a goal of sorts, and a shallow one…but why not? It was fairer than war, and positively harmless in her opinion. Her eyes sparkled in the firelight, and cast dancing shadows along her slim arms. Her bangles glittered vehemently, and she crossed her legs comfortably. Was she not wanted in here? She did not care.
Surely? Eyla laughed, and patted his hand affectionately. Oh, but it was the intricacies that appealed to her, that made the world seem less boring in apparel. The woman raised one hand into her hair, and pulled a dark curl out straight. She blinked lazily, her eyelashes brushing against her cheekbones. The Roman did not know her at all, and that suited her fine. Eyla was her own person…almost private in truth, but she liked to talk about anything. She had listened to grown men cry for their dead sons, she had kissed anger from violent lips. Eyla would adapt to any mood, any situation, but Artorius did not give her the chance. Yet. The woman knew he was troubled, and about what? In truth, she did not even consider Lancelot. The First Knight was…delicious, but to even consider the possibility of him and the Roman Commander? Eyla was not naïve, but she was ignorant to that truth…
The Roman smiled, and Eyla tilted her head flirtatiously. His words were amusing, and indeed, there were many answers to it. Why did she solicit payment for pleasure? The woman enjoyed it, and she craved the human body. She loved nothing more than witnessing the feral need and arousal in another’s eyes, and knowing that it was her they wanted. Oh, it was a sweet moment, and Eyla could almost taste it on her tongue. Payment was a bonus, but it was not always demanded for. She had not charged Lancelot for their last encounter, but then…he was quite adept at making it worthwhile. And others? Eyla was not easily satisfied, because she lived for the satisfaction of others…and so she demanded payment. It was simple. Husbands could not achieve such sensuous peaks with their wives, and soldiers could not find it in innocent festival maidens. Eyla was needed here, and that delighted her. She had found her….talent, and it served her well… …But from Artorius specifically? Eyla parted her lips to answer, but felt his strong fingers flex around her own. She glanced down to the touch, and then looked up through thick and sultry eyelashes. He was…humouring her attempts at seduction, and Eyla felt the excitement flow in her veins. She leant closer to him, and felt her breasts push harder and fuller against her tight bodice. “Do you really want to know…Artorius…?” She whispered, her voice dripping with honey and sweet promise. Her small fingers wrapped tighter around his hand, and she leant closer still, parting her lips wantonly. “…And what would you do if I told you? Hmm?” Eyla glanced down to the Roman’s groin, and lifted an eyebrow cheekily. She would not tell the Roman such secrets, because it made her…open to interpretation. And that would never do. She spoke again, her voice lower in tone. “Would you touch me for it? Would you give into my attempts at seduction? Would you…take me now?” She pressed one nail into the inside of him palm, gently and sensuously. She blinked lazily, and her lips parted more fully. She breathed a laboured sigh close to his face…before moving away. Eyla sat up straighter, and lifted one finger to him. She laughed, and it was a playful rebuke. “Come now, you know me better than that…but I adore your technique…” In truth, she was impressed. The woman’s eyebrow remained raised, and she pouted coltishly at him. Perhaps they were not so different? Ha! Indeed, they were very different, but the thought brought another laugh to her sweet lips. She could play with Artorius for hours on end, it made no difference to her…and in truth, he was more interesting than most… |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 28 2010, 05:48 PM Post #200 |
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Author: Pinkie Date: Sun Jun 22, 2008 12:53 pm Galahad Galahad managed to focus his blue eyes on her face intently - not allowing his gaze to waver in the slightest. He looked like he was examining her reactions, checking her expression for any hint of a lie but in truth he was just staring at her without thought. He was too wound up to focus on anything so specific as a facial expression!
The young Knight continued to stare at the young woman as if she had not spoken. His brow twitched, then smoothed. He tensed his jaw and lifted his hand to his beard, scratching three fingers down his chin before grasping his neck and rubbing as if intensely itchy. He breathed out a stunned, rasped laugh and slammed his two hands down on the table, knocking the tankard to the ground. His head wobbled on his neck as he looked down at the spilled ale on the ground. Sniffing, Galahad looked back at Alina, his head tilted to teh side, eyes narrowed to blood-shot slits. Inside his head he was trying to figure out what exactly Alina had meant. He knew what the words meant, but what did she mean by saying something like that? It made no sense... It made all the sense in the world, but not when she said it. Licking his lips, Galahad blew out another rasping laugh and shook his head. "With?" he asked in a hoarse voice, lifting his head, watery blue eyes, "With?" he changed the tone, making it match the way she had said it. Another, a third and final rasping laugh ripped from his lips and Galahad launched to his feet, a hand to his head as he staggered back a step, fell backwards over the bench he had been sitting on and clattered to the floor in an ungraceful heap. "I'm fine! I'm fine!" he shouted out, scrabbling to his hands and knees, looking down at the ground. He sat back on his heels and looked up at Alina pathetically. "How ... how can you tell me that this had nothing to do with me?!" he snapped, trying to scramble to his feet. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 28 2010, 05:49 PM Post #201 |
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Author: Starbelle Date: Sun Jun 22, 2008 1:19 pm Tatiana
Hearing and feeling the water move as he came over to her, she looked up into his heather grey eyes with her own emerald ones and was instantly hypnotized and mesmerized by them. "Alright, Adian. A deal is a deal, after all." Tatiana replied feeling her cheeks heat up slightly as a soft grin appeared on her lips too. Feeling the towel being gently removed by his large fingers, she now knew what a present felt like when it was happily unwrapped by a person. Slipping carefully with his hand holding onto her tiny one, into the water just enough to get her skin wet, she was surprised to feel how warm and relaxing the water actually was as opposed to the quick cold water ones that she usually took. "This feels nice and comfortable." She commented shyly. Tilting her head sideways, she added playfully "Ok, Adian..I'm all yours." Her long hair floated like a coppery lake in the water around her neck and the tops of her shoulders. I wonder if he's ticklish? When its my turn..I'll try to find out and toss in a back rub while I'm at it. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 28 2010, 05:51 PM Post #202 |
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Author: TwistOfShadows Date: Sun Jun 22, 2008 1:25 pm Nolan and Ceinwyn Nolan had no patience for the news to come. The military lieutenant was still seething from their retreat, and had remained silent for most of the track back to camp. His strong and bloodstained ankles were sodden with mud and scratched by brambles, and his green eyes stared intently ahead. His dark hair was matted thickly, and tangled with leaves and twigs, but he paid it no heed. He had no time for that either. His strong hands were curled around the bone of each of his two daggers, and his thumbs pressed relentlessly into the blades. He had drawn blood from his skin…and had not realized. It trickled down over his strong knuckles, the warm liquid cooling the tension from his bones. Where had they gone wrong? Indeed, it did not matter. The gods were on their side, and their vehement strength was not defeated. Not yet. The Woad army would regain their victory, because Briton was theirs. The trees, the crevices between rock and mud…it belonged to them, and let them destroy anyone who sought to steal it. Theirs was a sacred ground, blessed by the very Pagans who had tended to it. And the Romans? Fools. Nothing but precious metal armour…and little worth. They fought for nothing, merely a greed for territory and blood. Oh, they would see blood…and it would be their own… The Woad’s eyes flicked momentarily to the front of the columns, taking in the wounded and hopeless. His green gaze almost pierced, its intensity was stronger than ever. His eyes rested on the form of Ceinwyn, and his jaw tightened angrily. She did not walk with the others, not truly, she dawdled and pitied herself…pathetic…
Nolan’s head snapped upwards sharply, and he spun quickly on his heel. He saw and heard Merlin approach, and listened. Four riders? Four Romans or Sarmatians perhaps? And…Neeria? The treacherous bitch? Nolan’s lips tightened into a hard line, and he nodded succinctly. Nolan did not take the time to befriend his comrades. Theirs was a world of war and threat, and everything else seemed somewhat…pointless. They had lands to reclaim, and Neeria? She would be punished for her crimes…and harshly. She was leading them directly to camp? Nolan saw the severity in Merlin’s eyes, and knew what that meant. She was helping them hunt down Britons… The man’s fingers flexed around the hilt of his dagger, and he lifted his chin…almost aggressively…
Oh, Nolan knew. Merlin’s words were heavy with threat and intent, and the Woad nodded in obedience…and determination. Covering their tracks would be easy…but finding twenty able-bodied men? Many were injured, many were tired…and some minds were already breaking. The man’s eyes flashed, and he turned to survey the marching woads. He would find twenty, and they would serve Merlin well. They would confront the enemy….and Nolan hoped they wished to fight. He hoped they truly ruled by violence and anger…because they would die in the bloody hatred they had invoked. Nolan looked back to Merlin, and spoke through gritted teeth. “It is done.” Nolan did not speak anymore. He walked forwards into the ordered columns, parting them with his height and status among the clan. A brisk wind bit at his strong cheekbones, and he parted his lips against it, breathing the soul of Briton. He placed a firm hand upon the shoulders of his chosen group, and nodded his head to them, beckoning them to fall back from their people. They did as ordered, and Nolan looked to Merlin, for approval. The chosen were tired but strong enough to endure the mission ahead, and Nolan would lead them well. He did not suffer failure easily…Indeed, he had almost turned to address the Woads, when he heard a female voice behind him. A voice that made his blood boil. “I will come with you. A traitor knows a traitor…” Ceinwyn spoke boldly, having listening upon their conversation. This was her chance perhaps? To prove herself? The Woad woman stood alone, aside from the marching columns, her fingers twitching at her sides. But Nolan did not turn. He merely looked to Merlin, and then spoke gruffly. “Then you will learn for your mistakes.” It was a reluctant agreement. He awaited permission to leave. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 28 2010, 05:52 PM Post #203 |
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Author: sabor ice Date: Sun Jun 22, 2008 2:19 pm Alina
She gave a start when he slammed his palms onto the table, and his tankard tumbled to the ground. Even above the normal hum of the tavern, the noises had seemed menacingly piercing to her eardrums. Every time a raspy, disbelieving laugh escaped his lips, Alina winced. Her face dropped, her brow creased into a deep frown. Her shoulders slumped inward, high nearly to her ears. She looked utterly tiny in her seat, a pint-sized miscreant awaiting consequence for deeds gone awry. Her lips parted into a tiny 'o' and she snapped her head up when Galahad launched to his feet, tripped in his drunken stupor, and crumpled to the floor. She edged forward in her seat to peer over the table, but quickly sunk back when the knight declared he was fine and began struggling back to his feet. Had something like that happened any other day, she might've laughed at his unsteady antics, offered to help him, and then led him to bed to sleep it off. But, instead she stared blankly at him, and gave a burdened sigh. She rubbed a hand along the crease of her forehead and down her face, subtly flinching when her fingertips grazed the bruise on her jaw. Apologetic brown eyes swiveled back in the knight's direction. She gripped the end of the table with her hand and loomed over top, peering down at Galahad still working to his feet. "I didn't do it to hurt you, alright?" Alina said in a hushed voice, her tone sincere. She glanced around to gauge reactions at his raised voice. Her stomach flipped, her cheeks flushed pink in embarrassment, and she maneuvered around the table to stand nearer to Galahad. She offered him her hand, although a part of her had already accepted the fact that he probably wouldn't take it, even to help him rise. "Not here, Galahad. Please. People are staring." |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 28 2010, 05:55 PM Post #204 |
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Author: LadyCastus Date: Sun Jun 22, 2008 6:28 pm Titrus
Titrus smiled and lowered his head to touch her lips with his, kissing her softly. Gently, he applied more pressure and parted his lips rubbing his hands over her bottom again. He deepened their kiss by probing her tongue with his own. He pulled the woman closer to him, gently grinding his hips into her body’s vee. The lieutenant finally broke the kiss and stepped back from Catherine. His eyes roamed her lovely body as he began removing his belt, hauberk and heavy cowl until he stood bare-chested in front of her. All that remained were his leather trousers. Titrus’ eyes were narrow and his voice heavy with lust. “Unlace me, Catherine” he ordered her softly, his erection straining to be free. Malcus Barbattus and Neeria Neeria knew they had arrived. Her heart was thumping so hard in her chest, she was sure Tristan could hear it even over the crashing thundering sound of the horses charging onward. She prayed with all her might that Merlin and the others were gone. She was pretty sure they were. If Merlin still occupied the camp, Neeria seriously doubted they would have ever gotten this close to it without resistance. She tapped Tristan on his knee and pointed ahead, letting him know that they had arrived. Then she tried to keep her hands from shaking by grabbing onto the saddle pommel again with both hands. Malcus composed himself quickly after chuckling at the smug optio’s expense. That woad was a character, she was, and Malcus wondered just what game she was playing with them. Why on earth would an officer of Merlin’s lead them to Merlin? Why? That single question nagged at Malcus. It had to be a trick! Or maybe it wasn’t, he played devil’s advocate with himself. Maybe she’d just reacted to save her own hide after her pathetic assassination attempt and had backed herself into a corner. Malcus wondered. Suddenly, without warning, they were there. They had arrived at the camp and it was just where she said it would be. Only there was no one insight. The captain looked at Tristan who appeared to be completely in tune with his surroundings.
Tristan put his hand on Neeria’s shoulder and she nodded her head. Mostly out of obedience but also because there was no way she could have gotten down off the horse and made it into the woods before catching steel in her back and she knew it. The Sarmatian scout slid off the back of the horse effortlessly and Neeria was suddenly afraid again sitting on the horse all alone. The big horse stamped his big, heavy hooves seemingly in protest to Tristan leaving Neeria still perched upon his back. When Tristan slid off of his mount, so did Malcus, gently patting Falco on his neck and slipping the horse a piece of carrot. Adjusting his armor, Barbattus unsheathed his sword and fell into step a few paces behind Tristan. Malcus stole a glance at the optio who looked like a puffed up chicken. Barbattus doubted Amadeus would be of much good use to them if they actually got into a scrap. Malcus looked back over his shoulder at Neeria, daring her to move with his eyes, scanning her face for any sign of … anything! Neeria watched as Tristan moved about the camp, poking in the fire, studying the footprints and tracks. He moved quickly yet deadly quiet and Neeria couldn’t help but be amazed at his routine. The scout’s posture changed suddenly, as though he’d seen something. Neeria’s heart skipped a beat and she involuntarily gasped for air. She couldn’t see what Tristan was looking at and the woad craned her neck, straining to see. The other Roman, the one still on his horse, looked at her eerily, as though daring her to move. He was dark and evil looking. Malcus followed Tristan to one of the ragged huts and peered over the scout’s shoulder, shocked to see four male woads bound and gagged. “What the bloody fuck is this shit?” Malcus spat. “Who did this?” he spoke to himself.
Neeria strained to hear what they were saying but she could not quite make out their words. The pompous Roman – the one they called optio, a word Neeria did not know – got off his horse to see what Tristan and the other Roman were staring at. Damn the gods! Neeria cursed What is it?! What do they see? Malcus cringed as Scipio approached, notifying every living creature in the wood, with the noisy crunching of his boots. Malcus rolled his eyes and cursed under his breath. Mordred stayed mounted, observing both the goings-on and the prisoner, but poised to strike if necessary. Barbattus moved to Tristan’s side other side, still gripping his sword, as Amadeus entered the small room. The woads were obviously terrified of them but something just didn’t seem right. The small hut reeked of spirits – stale ale and mead – a smell Barbattus knew well. Were the man’s eyes bloodshot because of fear, lack of sleep or drunkenness? Barbattus wanted to ask Tristan his thoughts, but the captain didn’t want the optio clued in. The less that rat bastard knew, the better. He was obviously out of his depths anyway.
Malcus watched, still wondering, as Tristan cut the gag from the man Amadeus indicated. If this was a trick, it sure was a fucking elaborate one and the Merlin that Malcus knew would not go through such a display. Merlin simply would have charged from the wood by now in a full blown assault. It was not like Merlin’s past behavior to sacrifice any of his own people unless they were traitors. Someone else had done this and the obvious presence of spirits could have had something to do with it. Even though he was the enemy, Barbattus knew that Merlin was a brilliant military leader, much like himself and Arthur. Merlin did not tolerate disobedience, dishonor or lack of discipline. Did the woad woman know about this? How could she? Did she do this? Highly doubtful. Barbattus narrowed his eyebrows, absorbing all that he saw and reflecting on what he didn’t. He looked at Tristan, trying to catch his eye, to see if the scout could see through the obvious smoke and mirrors too. He wondered what story this group would come up with. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 28 2010, 05:56 PM Post #205 |
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Author: linnet Date: Sun Jun 22, 2008 8:05 pm Gawain
Gawain didn’t feel like much of a charmer, and he sure as hell didn’t feel like a handsome young knight. But he smiled almost shyly at both women, glad to accept their welcoming good spirits. He didn’t have a ready answer to Neeve’s question of how things were. The easy, sociable answer would be a vague ‘not bad’ or ‘could be better’. The truth was far more complicated and not appropriate to dredge up in this casual encounter. So he focused on Vanora’s more specific curiosity. “That would have been a fellow named Brendyn,” he said to the petite redhead. “His whole outfit was wiped out by the Saxons, and he was transferred here, but I forget where from. Nice kid.” He glanced down at his arm in its sling. “He did a good job with this, but the Woads pretty much undid it.” Then he turned his attention to Neeve, and smiling, caught her blue eyes with his. “I was hoping you’d be working when I drank enough courage to visit the infirmary last night to get it taken care of. But no, it was just me and Lavinia, and that woman hates me.” The blond knight remained standing beside Neeve. He took a drink and a quick look behind him to check on Galahad and Alina. Things seemed calm, so he set his tankard down on the counter and spoke to Vanora. “That reminds me. You might want to go to the infirmary to check on Bors, Vanora. I heard he was drinking and resting there.” He gave the pretty tavern owner a shrug, meaning it didn’t make any sense to him either. A loud crash, followed by a heavy thunk turned Gawain’s head once more in the direction of the table where he’d left Galahad. The blonde knight took a deep breath and ran his hand through his hair. His best friend was unceremoniously sprawled on the floor, and Alina was holding out her hand to help him up. Gawain shook his head slowly and looked at Neeve and Vanora, half apologetically, as if he was somehow responsible for Galahad’s behavior. It took all the willpower he had to not go gather the young knight up and help him out of the tavern, back to his bed where he could sleep it off. But Gawain believed that lovers’ discussions and quarrels were private, and as long as no one was in danger of being physically hurt (falling drunkenly out of your chair didn't qualify) , he wouldn’t interfere. But he really didn’t want to witness any more. He eyed the basket of food that Vanora had placed in front of Neeve. Picking up his ale and draining it with one swallow, he again sought Neeve’s eyes and ear. “Time for me to get out of here. Can I help you take that somewhere?” He indicated the basket with a nod and looked at her, sincere in wanting to help, but hoping for her company for a time even more so. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 28 2010, 05:57 PM Post #206 |
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Author: lady ione Date: Sun Jun 22, 2008 8:24 pm Adian What the hell was happening to him? Was it her eyes? Her voice? Or just the innocently oblivious way she was seducing him? He had heard of such women in legends his father told him as a boy. Adian's eyes had taken in her whole body as he slowly unwrapped it...her firm lean body, the way her copper colored hair seemed to shimmer in the late afternoon gray light. Graceful and delicate. The young man's eyes held hers not letting the gaze falter...how her hand fit so well into his. Carefully, he helped her a bit as Tatiana slid into the water, his hand still in hers...
...Tatiana seemed to be in a playful mood, or at least the look she had given him was. Releasing her hands, Adian reached for the soap and the cloth. Returning his eyes to hers, he soaked the cloth in the water and lifted it to run it in streams down her body. Letting the towel fall onto the step near them, Adian took the soap, lathered up his hands, and began to lather her body feeling the softness of her skin beneath his fingers. Adian stopped and gathered her long hair, twisted it gently and lay it over one shoulder so that he could get her neck, her jawline, then back down to her shoulders. As he washed her, in Adian's mind, he stored memory of what she looked like so that he could someday carve a bust of her in fine wood..... Satisfied that he had cleaned her well enough, the carpenter reached for a large pitcher, filled it with water, then slowly poured the water over her to rinse the soap away. One more pitcher full and Adian smiled at his work. "There, much better, Tatiana..." Setting the pitcher down, Adian turned to look at her. "Now I will hold to my end of the deal...I am yours." The area they were in was secluded from sight which he was greatful for. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 28 2010, 05:58 PM Post #207 |
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Author: Kayla Date: Sun Jun 22, 2008 8:57 pm Fiona The rest of the walk to the dungeons was not far, as she had already come a long way before Ash had stopped her and given her these directions, something she could not just say no to and didn't dare try, either. The slight sense of loyalty was still engrained in her - after all, with all of the years of training she had done for battle and Merlin's cause, and even though she wasn't fighting for them, there was still a sense of duty even when among the fort. Fiona hadn't given into the killing but helping out little Eala wouldn't hurt, right? After all, being stuck in a Roman fort when you truly were for the cause that her father had the woads believing in, it could be pure hell. At least, Fiona figured that that would be how she would feel, but she wasn't living in the prison, instead allowed to roam around with the other inhabitants. Brianna had been as well, before she had left and now the woad was the only one left in the fort - until now, that was. Helping Eala and Ash was her only concern, though, for the time being, as she didn't want to risk not completing the task and something happening because of it. It had been obvious that Ash meant what he'd said about exposing her, something that made her nervous and more apt to want to do this. How she would get it done, though, the young woad wasn't sure. She would just have to make it up as she went along, coming up with ideas as she went and she barely had enough time to think, what with the lights of the dungeon coming into her view. Pushing out a breath through her mouth, the dark-haired girl had a sudden thought, from what had happened a few nights ago when Aiden helped her from someone about to attack, which was what had set him free from the woad's capture. Taking in a deep breath now and keeping close to the shadows, away from the eyes of the two guards that were standing outside. Her eyebrow raised when she saw one of them leave, to do what, she wasn't sure but it was a lucky break on her part and she quickly formed a rough plan in her mind, unsure as to whether it would work or not but really, what choice did she have? The other disappeared into the prison with a plate of food in his hands and Fiona worked from the adrenaline still coursing through her, pulling her face into one of terror. She let out a scream and went bursting through the shadows and towards the prison, waiting until the guard appeared back up at the entrance, a look of confusion on his face. The woad stumbled slightly on her way to him, her body shaking and her eyes throwing glances behind her, as if someone was following her. She moved quickly up to the guard, her breathing loud and uneven as she pretended to have a hard time getting her words out. "Someone ... tried to attack me ... and my sister. I got away but you have to help her, please!" The hysteria rang out in her voice and the guard looked down at her and back at his post as if trying to decide whether it was alright to leave. Obviously one of the more compassionate of the Roman guards, he placed a hand on her shoulder, trying to calm her down. "We'll look when my partner gets back," he told her, looking towards the mouth of the dungeon. Fiona shook her head frantically, opening her mouth to speak again. "No, no! He still has my sister, please help her! He had a knife." Her eyes widened in a childish sort of manor, clutching her cloak to her and casting a stricken glance towards where she had come from and then back up to the guard, whose expression was wavering and them, taking in the terror that was on her face, he broke down. "Show me where they are," he responded, pulling out his sword as Fiona nodded and turned around, breaking out into a hasty run as the guard followed her away from the prison. She didn't know how soon the other guard would be back, but she hoped she had given Ash enough time to at least get Eala and get away safely. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 28 2010, 05:59 PM Post #208 |
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Author: LadyCastus Date: Sun Jun 22, 2008 9:07 pm Mona
Mona looked at Guinevere like Guinevere was crazy. Bury them in the dung? Before Mona could protest, Guinevere scurried off, faking a limp and tipping over an apple cart to cause a distraction. Springing into action, Mona rushed over to a bale of hay that was next to the pile of shiete and shoved the packs deep inside. She rose quickly, brushing her hands together, and ran toward the side gate where Guinevere was waiting. Fortunately, the guards were busying checking in a caravan of merchants when the women suddenly bolted at break-neck speed for the treeline. Mona sprinted as fast as she could, expecting to be cut down by an arrow at any moment. Miraculously, the women made it, apparently without notice. Once they were a comfortable distance inside the wood, Mona stopped running and fell to her knees, gasping for air. Her heart was racing and adrenaline was flooding her veins. She shuddered thinking about what they'd just done. Still trying to catch her breath, she looked over at Guinevere. How easy it would be for Mona to act out her plan now! Ash and Connell were behind them, Neeria in front of them. She could easily kill Guinevere now and make it look like an accident since there were no witnesses around. Mona smiled. Now that Neeria was obviously a traitor, getting rid of Guinevere would guarantee Mona's ability to get close to Merlin even quicker. Merlin. She purred softly and rolled her eyes to the heavens just thinking of him. Her nipples hardened. Shaking her head to clear her thoughts, Mona spoke up. "We have to hurry, Guinevere, before the rains come and clear their tracks," Mona rose to her feet and placed a hand on her hip, waiting for Guinevere. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 28 2010, 06:00 PM Post #209 |
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Author: linnet Date: Sun Jun 22, 2008 9:17 pm Juna
Juna thought, but did not say ‘for indulging me’. Merlin’s smile told her that he didn’t require an answer. She fondly returned the smile, and cocked her head attentively as it seemed he was about to say something more.
The scout was breathing hard, his voice and manner urgent. And once more Merlin was gone, off to the side with the messenger. Apprehension hit Juna so hard her heart raced and she froze in place. Every sign that she saw as Merlin and the scout spoke indicated trouble. She couldn’t hear their words but Merlin’s face reflected worry and determination. When the scout left, and Merlin called for Nolan, she knew it was serious trouble. Her eyes never left Merlin. As he walked back to reach Nolan, he gestured to the people he passed to hurry ahead. Juna wasn’t going anywhere. She stood where Merlin had left her, watching him, watching Nolan select warriors. She saw the faces of the men change from tired to fiercely grim, full of the same old blood-lust of two days ago. Juna felt sick and frightened and angry. Merlin had said they would stop fighting, at least until spring. Whatever was now destroying that hope, she hated it. She didn’t speculate on what the cause might be. It didn’t matter to her. It was unfairly evil, and to be hated. Merlin now was surrounded by warriors, as well as the young woman he had talked with a short time ago. Juna just continued to watch. Her face was etched with anxiety, and she unconsciously raised her hands to her mouth to nervously chew at the skin around her finger nails. She wouldn’t move from where she stood until Merlin either came back to tell her what was happening, or simply left without bothering. And what, she wondered would she do then? |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 28 2010, 06:02 PM Post #210 |
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Author: golden_trillium Date: Sun Jun 22, 2008 9:29 pm Linnette and Linnesse
“Well…Drake was the one who inquired about it,” Linnette answered, feeling again that peculiar feeling she had had yesterday when she said Drake’s name in front of Linnesse- the thought that somehow some inappropriate affection was showing in the way she said it. It made her say the name softer, somehow, almost a little embarrassed to be saying it- and the look on Linnesse’s face didn’t help either- the narrowness of her lips suggested confusion laced with the seeds of disapproval, though she said nothing. Linnette once more twisted away from her sister and her sister’s man, looking up at Drake appealingly. His hand was still on her shoulder, the warmth of it soaking into her- but unexpectedly, she rather wished he would remove it. It was embarrassing. “Perhaps you could go tell then we’ll take it? Then I suppose we’d better start packing.” She turned back around, meeting Linnesse’s eyes again and heaving a deep sigh at the depressing prospect of going through all her things, not to mention Gedeon’s things, and transporting them around. Especially Gedeon’s things- the very thought of them made her start to choke up. She gave a morose shrug of her shoulder, hoping to dislodge Drake’s hand- though she didn’t in truth know what she wanted. Her emotions had suddenly become a tangled jumble. Linnesse’s expression shifted into sympathy, and she seemed on the point of saying something, when a crash from across the room made both sisters jump and look around. The source of the noise proved to be Galahad, who had apparently stood from his table, tripped over the very bench he had been sitting on, and landed splat on the floor.
Galahad snapped the words out at Alina, with whom he had clearly been arguing, and she held out her hand to him and said something in a soothing, pleading tone, something that Linnette could not catch across the distance and the noise of talk- though quite a few people had fallen silent after the crash. Linnette felt an irrational surge of frustration, having noticed the spilled ale on the floor in its slowly spreading puddle. “Was he raised in a barn?” she muttered snappishly, miserably, looking over at the spreading ale and at Galahad and Alina at their spat. Was there no happiness in the world? None, since the knights had come home, or didn’t come? Everyone seemed to be tense, unhappy with either sadness or anger. Most of them had their reasons- Arthur, Lancelot, Dagonet, Saoirse, Amadeus, Bors, Vanora, she herself- but even Drake was always going around frowning and breaking his teeth for no discernable purpose. And now Galahad couldn’t even keep his damned ale in his cup or his bottom on a bench. Well, she didn’t want to stand around here and watch a couple she had always thought of as happy fight. Nor did she want to watch Linnesse and Derfel at their perpetual lovey-ness, which she could not grudge them but which she finally admitted to herself was painful to be around, either. Dodging around Linnesse and Derfel with no further preamble, without looking at anyone, she ducked around the doorway into the kitchen and returned carrying her cloak, which she had hung on a hook just inside. “I’m going to go pack. Someone come tell me when you find out where this room is.” She knew she was being unfairly snappish, striding past the other three with barely a glance as she swung her cloak around her shoulders, but she truly had no desire to stay here any longer. The fresher air outside the tavern called to her, promising to clear her head if she could get out in it and away from the crowds. “Take your time eating,” she managed to add, in a somewhat kinder tone, with a glance towards Linnesse- who really did need to eat to regain her strength. Linnette didn’t have to stand around watching her do it, though- she wanted to be away. As her sister nearly stomped out of the tavern, Linnesse turned to Derfel, her eyes wide with shock and her spoon once more in her hand, as she had been about to take another bite. She certainly hadn’t been expecting that outburst. Merlin
“Go, Nolan- go with the Gods and I will see you soon.” Merlin delivered the silently requested permission with the usual touch on the soldier that he sent all his captains and lieutenants off with- a sort of blessing, a wish for good fortune on the way. The touch was only brief, though, before Merlin turned to Ceinwyn with a frown. “Peace, Ceinwyn- a warrior who shows patience is the more likely to be chosen.” The Woad leader understood why the volatile woman had not been one of Nolan’s chosen twenty- but now that he considered it, he might as well take her with his group when they went out shortly. Depressed and difficult she might be, but she had the great advantage of being nearly unwounded, and that made her one of few right now. But Merlin wasn’t going to tell her that just yet- let her stew for a bit. Let her strive harder to prove herself. Striving and uncertainty were good- they bred toughness and resolve, and Ceinwyn was in need of those qualities now. Out of the corner of his eye Merlin spotted Juna, who was now standing stock still while the rest of the column flowed around her, her eyes on him. She needed to get to safety with the rest! Merlin felt a flash of worry about her that startled him with its intensity, almost rocked him a little on his feet- but he wouldn’t go to her until he had Ceinwyn’s acknowledgement of his words. |
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