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| June 2008 | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Mar 23 2010, 07:18 PM (3,708 Views) | |
| golden_trillium | Mar 24 2010, 08:15 PM Post #31 |
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Author: Darya Date: Wed Jun 04, 2008 11:19 am Darya Drake had noticed Linnette as well...even though it seemed just because she had been looking at him to see if he had. Darya’s attention left the stranger yet again when the Roman soldier moved towards Gedeon’s widow. She watched him taking care of the other woman and lifted her chin in silent acknowledgment when Drake signaled her that he had the situation under control and Linnette was alright…or sort of… …and then the tavern door was opened yet again. This time it was Galahad and Gawain entering. A faint smile crossed Darya’s lips when she looked at her fellow Sarmatians. Well, Galahad did not exactly look very happy…and Gawain…he seemed to be distracted somehow. The woman lowered her gaze as she let the remainder of her tea twirl in the mug…but did watch the two knights movie towards a table nearby from under her dark eyelashes… …until something – or rather someone – blocked her view…
Pet? The Sarmatian arched an eyebrow when the odd looking stranger suddenly stood more or less in front of her and addressed her in a rather intimate way. Of course he had no idea that she had been called that before…just in a less friendly way. Much less friendly…more in the literal meaning of the word instead. Blinking, Darya pushed those dark memories of another Roman Fortress aside and gave the black-white-haired man a wry smile. Perhaps caused by the smile he was giving her. Goodness, even Lancelot’s famous charming smile would have a hard time to compete with this one. Taking her time, the dark-haired granted herself yet another sip of tea before actually replying to the stranger’s words. “Gabriel…”, she repeated his name and gave him a slight nod, “…pleasure to meet you…” I guess at least. “You are…new to Badon, are you not?”, the Sarmatian inquired and gestured for the man to take a seat if he wished. No, she had not given him her name yet. She meant no disrespect…but it would be safer to know where he had come from first. And if he would not mention a certain Roman Commander’s name…or that certain Fortress for that matter…then she might tell him… One should be cautious enough with strangers these days... |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 24 2010, 08:16 PM Post #32 |
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Author: LadyCastus Date: Wed Jun 04, 2008 11:23 am Titrus The blond half-smiled at Titrus and twirled a strand of soft, angel-spun hair between her fingers, sweeping her green eyes over him. Titrus thought his heart would pound right of his chest just from looking at her. He could smell her from where she sat. She smelled beautiful, like a bouquet of flowers- so soft, so delicate, so fragile. She’s a whore, that inner voice screamed again. Titrus almost noticeably shook his head to shut the voice up and to clear the annoying conscious away. The lieutenant pushed the bowl of long-forgotten soup to the side and raised his blue eyes to meet her stare, trying hard not to glance at her beautiful breasts again.
Titrus turned crimson red again at the formality. Nobody but Deetra had ever called him “my lord” before and that had only been when had been role-playing ‘Kings and Queens’ during sex. “How can I eat in the presence of your beauty,” Titrus said shyly, lowering his head once again. “Er…” he said without looking at her, “My name is, uh, Titrus,” The erection in his pants strained against the fabric of his trousers, trying to burst free. Titrus wanted nothing more than drive his desire inside of this woman. The thought of her wetness was enough for him to come. To distract himself, Titrus looked around the tavern. People had slowly drifted in, including a couple of Arthur’s knights. Titrus nodded as they sat down across the room then looked back at the blond. Oh God! Did she just touch me with her foot?
“Oh no!” Titrus said a little more desperately than he wanted to. “I mean,” he said softly, “of course you can sit here. Please do. I’d like that.” He watched the woman in amazement as she continued to twirl her hair between her fingers. He wanted to talk to her and then later make love to her. Yes, make love to her. He was willing to pay to do that and that was fine. Titrus just wanted to do it properly and with respect. “What is your name?” he asked her, mesmerized. As she spoke, Titrus watched her – all of her. He memorized the movement of her lips, her tongue, teeth, cheekbones, eyebrows – everything about her face. Of course with an occasional glimpse of her bosom as well. He watched the crinkles around her eyes when she smiled and the way she batted her eyelashes. He basked in the huskiness of her voice which sounded like music to his lonely ears. It had been a long time since he’d heard a woman’s voice in casual conversation. All he’d been subjected to was the shrieking of 4 wild females in his home, all jabbering at the same time. Titrus sighed, waiting and hoping for an opportunity to touch her. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 24 2010, 08:18 PM Post #33 |
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Author: Pinkie Date: Wed Jun 04, 2008 11:54 am Mari Was her innocence and easily trusting nature a blessing or a curse? She watched Milan's face darken, his eyes become angry, and she felt wronged by his anger, unsure what she had done to deserve it. The young woman swallowed roughly and looked positively bereft when Milan's hand dropped away from her face. She flinched when he pulled the towel from her head and staggered back a step as it was shoved against her chest. Her hands instinctively lifted to hold it there but her mouth gaped in outraged surprise at this turn in his attitude. And over what?! Mari's bottom lip pouted outwards and she sniffed indignantly, adjusting the towel in her arms before hurrying off towards the baths as ordered by the jut of his thumb. She glanced over her shoulder at the formidable width of his shoulders as he folded his arms, biting her bottom lip and feeling... well... annoyed that he was annooyed. The young woman hurried to the bath and stripped quickly. She hunkered down on the first few steps into the pool and splashed the water up onto her body whilst glancing over her shoulder to see if Milan was coming. Mari continued washing in this hurried, awkward fashion and each splash of water seemed to wash away her anger and leave her feeling bad for having upset Milan. It was somethign she did, she knew that. Maybe she could make it up to him... but how? Mari used the towel to dry her body quickly. She wrapped the towel around her body and turned to hurry out to Milan, leaving her clothes behind a moment. This was not something that would wait. "Milan -- Milan, I'm sorry." she whispered, trotting up behind him, sliding a hand up his back to his shoulders as she came around to stand in front of him. Her bandaged hand was soaked but clean, holding the towel about her chest. She looked up at him with large, apologetic brown eyes and wished she could understand why he was angry. "I don't know what I did to upset you, but please don't be angry with me. I can't stand it. I hate it - please don't be angry. Was it that other man? You didn't think..." Mari found the idea of jealousy and Milan to be almost like chalk and cheese, and yet it seemed the most logical explanation, didn't it? "You don't think I... we .. were..." Mari stammered, shaking her head and looking up pleadingly at the young male, her cheeks flushing red with embarrasment. Galahad Oh given a reversal of the circumstances Galahad knew he would have been on the receiving end of a 'I'm-fine-gods-damn-it' from Gawain. His ire and irritation was only skin deep, his impatience and want to forget about the wound and who had bandaged it made him feel more irritable than normal. He didn't want to think about Alina right now. Even the suggestion of her name made his heart jump into his mouth - an undeniable and painful surge of emotions racing through his body. Had she really been kissing that guy?! The welcome warmth and familiarity of the tavern surrounded them both. Galahad blew out a breath, pushing his hood down as he shook his head to dispel the drops of water that had clung to his black hair. He nodded his head towards a table on one side of the tavern but was stopped by Gawain -strangely.
"Sure..." Galahad agreed readily, but his brow furrowed as he walked ahead of Gawain, sliding into a seat with his back to the wall, facing his blonde companion. He shrugged out of his cloak and tossed it onto the stool next to them then sat back on the bench, his arms spread out across the back of it, his long fingers curled downwards against the wood as he gave Gawain a curious look. His mouth opened and he made eye contact with a serving wench. He indicated 'two' with his fingers and she nodded, busying herself with preparing two mugs of ale for him and Gawain. Galahad then raised his eyebrows, looking back at the long-haired Sarmatian, waiting quietly. After a long while he broke the silence - "Well? What's going on then? You said you had something to tell me... is it about the blonde wench? Why so secretive...?" he gave a token grin of encouragement to Gawain but his heart was really not in it. He was too conflicted to truly encourage any scoundrel like activities in his brother. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 25 2010, 10:42 PM Post #34 |
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Author: Starbelle Date: Wed Jun 04, 2008 12:17 pm Tatiana Sorting through all of the advice that Lavina had given her back in the infirmary about her and Brendyn and guys in general, Tatiana, her mind in the middle of mentally filing and figuring things out didn't see Adian up ahead of her and accidently bumped into him in the process of figuring everything out as she wasn't paying attention to where she was going while she was mentally figuring things out. "Whoops, sorry Adian. I didn't mean to run into you. Are you ok?" She asked after coming out of her musings concerned that she may have accidently hurt him somehow. After crashing into him like she did and remembering how he acted in the tavern, Tatiana wasn't sure if he'd still be in the same frame of mind or different. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 25 2010, 10:43 PM Post #35 |
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Author: Pinkie Date: Wed Jun 04, 2008 1:07 pm Catherine Sometimes it was terribly easy to be breath-takingly beautiful. Catherine sat with bare a movement of her body but she knew she had this male within the palm of her hand. The flush of color to his cheeks was entirely unexpected and, not for the first time, Catherine knew that she had been perceived to be something entirely more elaborate than a mere whore. She was not going to believe that this man had never been with a woman, or a whore to be precise, but she did presume that it had been a while judging by his reactions.
Sweet. Very sweet. Catherine gave Titrus a pleasant smile at his compliment, her lips tugging outwards in a simpering smile as she tilted her head to the other side. She had his name now - Titrus. It was a familiar name and it took her a moment to recognise that he was Captain Barbattus' second. Of course Catherine had not had engagements with either man in the past but she had had engagements with their minions who had spoken of them whilst in her arms. Just as her foot brushed against his shin the door of the tavern opened and a gust of cool air whisked across her neck. The blonde didn't turn around but out of the corner of her eye she was certain she had seen blonde. And a familiar blonde at that. It was her turn to blush though she made it a pretty showing as she dipped her head at Titrus' kindness.
A need to be out of eyeshot of Gawain whilst doing her job, Catherine found her heart thundering in her chest, the blood pounding in the artery in her neck, sending heat about her body that was entirely unrelated to the kindness of Titrus' tone as he asked her her name. The blonde smiled, a genuine smile, always encouraged that a potential customer was interested in her enough to ask her name. "Catherine." it sounded foreign the way she whispered it. Loosing the strands of hair from her fingers, the whore reached across the table to touch her hand to Titrus' soldier's fist in greeting. "My name is Catherine." the woman smiled then withdrew her hand. She straightened up and blew out a breath from her perfectly plump lips, looking over one shoulder and then back at Titrus with a pretty flush to her cheeks. "Goodness - is it just me or has it suddenly become unbearably stuffy in here?" Catherine asked in a sing-song voice, her hazy green eyes twinkling as she cast a look towards the back door of the tavern and tilted her head in such a fashion that it may, or may not, have been a suggestion for them to leave together. Her intense green eyes asked silently if he understood her intentions, wordlessly asking him if he had a use of her and what she could do for a man. The hand that had earlier touched his in greeting slid across the table again, one fingernail touching the veins on the back of his hand. The smile on her lips was whimsical. "You know... there are other things that I am capable of doing that you may like too, Titrus, my lord." she insisted on the title with a wry grin, mischief lighting her pale features. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 25 2010, 10:44 PM Post #36 |
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Author: lady ione Date: Wed Jun 04, 2008 1:18 pm Adian The man was immersed in sorrow and felt that there was no comfort in sight for him...or perhaps it was all a judgement on he and Thorn for making love in the confessional when first they had met. Adian almost laughed at the memory, and how their first bout of lovemaking had been both passionate and spontanious. He had truly loved her...his free spirit. He hoped that they'd bury her under a tree that would flower every Spring, and there'd be flowers about it. DAMN IT ALL! If he hadn't gotten all shit faced with that uncaring woman in the infirmary, he'd have been here for Thorn to protect her. She'd still be alive.... Adian was so immersed in his thoughts that he had not seen Tatiana come out of nowhere and bump into him. Small world we live in... He sort of caught her arms with his hands to make sure she did not fall backwards into the mud....
Am I okay? Heather gray eyes looked into her green ones...eyes that were filled with sadness, but he gave her a smile none the less. He recognized her as the young lady from the tavern who had tried to comfort him. After the way he had yelled at her, Adian was surprised to see her speaking to him even. He had been a surly brute to her when all she had tried to do was help him out. Bowing slightly to the petite young woman, Adian said softly, 'Aye, I am fine, lass...tis hard to lose someone you love very much.' He paused for a moment, then said, "I am sorry I yelled at ye back in the tavern. Ye meant well...it was the shock of having the news so bluntly put forth.." The hunter/carpenter took a good look at her. She was naturally lovely with hair the color of brown autumn leaves and cheeks full of the blushing rose...eyes like a deep forest. Tatiana was someone he could easily love...that sparkle in her eyes that yelled out "mischief". 'If you are not doing anything, Tatiana. I would be glad of the company...I was going to walk over to the herb garden and pick some wild thymn to place on Thorn's grave...if I can find it...' He thought of Fiona, and hoping that she'd understand the need to find where Thorn was buried. If he did not find her grave, Adian felt he could easily carve her a statue out of oak out whatever wood was availible...then pick out a spot she would have loved, and place the statue there. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 25 2010, 10:45 PM Post #37 |
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Author: golden_trillium Date: Wed Jun 04, 2008 1:29 pm Linnette
"Mmhmh." Linnette made a soft affirmative noise and nodded, her eyes dubiously on the bowl of stew, which seemed to have taken on a personality of its own, sitting there looking back at her, as if wondering whether she was going to eat it or not. A shadow crossed her, on the other side from Drake, and she looked up to see the serving girl coming back, and took a breath, readying herself to reluctantly give some explanation- but on her other side, a dismissive glare from Drake seemed to convince the woman that further assistance was not needed. As she walked away, looking a little put out, Linnette let out the breath she had been holding, feeling some of the tension drain away with it. Relief- she wouldn't have to explain herself to even more people. Maybe she could eat. Cautiously, still keeping her eyes on the bowl as if its contents were some sort of living creature, Linnette edged her fingers toward the spoon that had come with the dish. Once her fingers were wrapped around the smooth wooden handle, she scooted the bowl closer with the other hand- and fought down momentary queasiness as the rising steam hit her nostrils. Still, something compelled her to go on, now, seeking food even though her body was still thinking about rebelling. "Maybe you're right," she confessed in an absent whisper to Drake, not looking at him, but dipping the spoon instead, her eyes fixed on the bowl. The first bite she nearly gagged on- the fatty richness of the meat overwhelming her and sickening her- but her throat clutched down and swallowed it anyway, and then hunger- real hunger- surged to the fore as that first bite settled in her stomach. Without any thought for appearance, without any thought at all, she suddenly found herself scooping and swallowing as fast as she could, burning her mouth and not caring, barely chewing the meat in her rush to fill her stomach. The more she ate, the better it tasted, and it was indeed with disappointment that she realized, a very short time later, that the bowl was completely empty. She ran the spoon eagerly around the edges again, scraping up the very last bits of flavor, and sucked it off with something approaching relish before looking up at Drake again, a small, sheepish smile turning up her lips. "You were right," she confessed abashedly. He had just seen her stuff herself like a pig- but oddly enough, she didn't mind too much. Some food had been what she needed after all- now that she thought about it, before that stew, she hadn't taken anything but a few sips of water since yesterday noon. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 25 2010, 10:46 PM Post #38 |
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Author: Pinkie Date: Wed Jun 04, 2008 1:49 pm Drake Protective wasn't quite the word one could use when describing Drake's attitude towards Linnette. Defensive would be better. He automatically assumed people approaching her would upset her in some fashion or other so he did not see himself as protecting her, but rather defending her from those who would, accidentally, upset her. She made an affirmative noise to his question and the Spaniard gave a curt nod of his head, already wondering what else it was that she had said she needed to do.
She was looking away from him which allowed Drake to watch her all the more closely. Her murmured admission was met with a stiff nod of confidence from Drake. He knew she was hungry. She was eating for two after all. And even if she wasn't hungry, he was not going to stand by and allow her to deny her body and baby what it so obviously needed. She was mourning, not dying. Drake relaxed on the third spoonful that was emptied into her mouth. His whole posture became one of mere amused observation than guard. He rested his elbow on the bar but kept his position by her side resolutely, not wanting anyone to either disturb her eating or ruin his amusement at just how hungry she raelly was once she got a taste for it. His wry smile was rewarded with a sheepish one from Linnette once she finished. He breathed a half-laugh, feeling gifted in seeing her smile having only just wondered if he would ever see such a thing again. "Learn to trust me." Without thought, Drake ruined it all. The casual easiness between them had made him drop a wall or two and his hand, his treacherous hand, lifted, palm placed softly on her cheek. His broad thumb swept upwards against her cheek and slowly his expression hardened once he realised that he had crossed a line. That was not his face to stroke. It was not his skin to caress. It was not his place nor entitlement to indiscriminately touch her with such affection. He did not whip his hand back though inside he could feel the lash of his emotions as he wrapped them back up inside. His hand fell to his side and he looked down at the ground, his posture stiffening once more. "Sorry." he murmured, his fingers curling into his palm, the left hurting as the bandage was pressed down into the wound. He cleared his throat and looked up at a point above Linnette's head - "Have some more. I will enquire about your new residence." Drake said with a hint of a question at the end, not wanting to take over completely but also feeling that the move was going to be painful enough for her without having to do the hunting for this new abode. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 25 2010, 10:47 PM Post #39 |
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Author: Starbelle Date: Wed Jun 04, 2008 2:17 pm Tatiana
"Its ok, Adian. Apology accepted, really, it is. When you feel ready and up to doing so, I'd love to hear all about your Thorn. She sounded like someone very special. I'd like to get to know her through you." Tatiana replied, mentally bracing herself for another one of his angry outbursts. Having him look at her like he was, brought another shy blush to her cheeks as she looked into Adian's deep heather grey eyes as she felt the warmth of her cheeks in response as he looked her over with his mesmerizing, hypnotizing heather grey eyes. Thankful for his steadying grip on her arms with his hands, she felt shy all over again, but in a different way with him than with Brendyn, she just couldn't figure out why and at the moment, Tatiana just didn't care, either.
"No, I'm not doing anything and I'd enjoy your company as well, Adian. I'd really like to get to know you a bit better, if I may and if you'll allow me, too, that is." The stable girl asked him as she tilted her head sideways to glance at him shyly under her lowered lashes. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 25 2010, 10:49 PM Post #40 |
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Author: golden_trillium Date: Wed Jun 04, 2008 7:21 pm Tristan
Ready indeed. Tristan pushed himself away from the partition behind him with a rather forced nonchalance, and narrowed his eyes up at the Woad woman, perched awkwardly on the mare. She had been rather more creative in finding a way to get up there than Tristan had thought she might- but he still had nothing but contempt for her. She was still an enemy, a barbarian, and just as he had predicted, she sat there like a meal sack. At least, she sat for now…but what would happen when they got moving? “You wanna tie her?” the scout, asked, shooting a questioning glance to Barbattus. Almost unconsciously, his hand crept towards his saddlebag, where he had, among other things, a coil of rope that might come in very handy in ensuring that the prisoner stayed on her mount- and out of trouble. Linnette
The meaning of his words had just barely registered with Linnette when suddenly his hand was on her cheek, cupping it softly, as gently as one might a baby’s. Her eyes flew further open, big and round, and she stiffened, looking at him in confusion and consternation as his thumb swept up her cheek in an unmistakable caressing motion. She could feel bandage cloth over his palm, hard callouses, and gentleness, almost unbearable gentleness. Gedeon come back to me, the absurd thought flashed into her head, before more rational thoughts bundled it up and sent it packing away. A touch just like that was not really characteristic of Gedeon- he would probably have run his hand over her hair and kissed her forehead in a similar position. It was different…different and she was not sure what to think of it. One thing it wasn’t, though, was pitying- and she was glad of that. She couldn’t detect any feeling of being sorry for her in Drake’s manner. It was just…well, she didn’t know what. It had caught her too much by surprise. And Drake seemed to be regretting it now, whatever that had been. His hand dropped, as did his gaze, and he seemed embarrassed, speaking much more formally now and not really looking at her.
So formal and precise, those words- completely at odds with their easiness with each other just a moment ago. It always went like this- easy, then awkward, then easy, then awkward. Never the same for long. And apparently, they were now on awkward again. But she didn’t want him to feel obligated to run more errands for her- he had devoted most of his day to helping her already, and surely he must have other things to do. “You…you don’t have to…I don’t want to keep you from…” she shrugged and trailed off, not wanting him to think she was ungrateful either. It would be a relief to know where she must move to, what was in store for her next- and she would be grateful for whatever Drake could manage to do. But she felt bad enough about monopolizing his time…surely it wasn’t right to accept even more of it. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 25 2010, 10:50 PM Post #41 |
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Author: lady ione Date: Wed Jun 04, 2008 8:24 pm Adian He pulled his cloak closer about him as he waited for Tatiana's answer. Looking about him, he saw the amount of carpentry work that needed to be done. Thankfully the barn was still standing...
Adian raised an eyebrow at her request....the same request she had made in the tavern when he blew at her. Would he feel comforted by speaking of Thorn to someone he hardly knew? He left out a heavy sigh, thankful that she was kind enough to accept his apology. 'Would ye now?' Adian's soft accent shone through the sadness of his voice. He was indeed glad for her company, and wondered if she was an angel as she had appeared seemingly out of no where. Looking at Tatiana, he replied, 'Aye, Thorn was special...very special." His gaze went to the heavens as he continued, 'Walk with me, and I will tell you of her.' Adian saw Tatiana blush...the way her eyes seemed to dig into his soul. The death of Thorn was still too close for him to immediately start in on a new relationship...friends for now.
The way Tatiana looked at him through the long lashes...now he knew why he loved flirting with women, though none had been as good at it as Tatiana, and the look she just gave him proved it. So a woman who likes to flirt, eh? Adian's gaze softened, but he winced a bit as he moved his still healing arm where the spear head had been removed. Do you really want to know me better? What is it about me that makes you want to know me? He smiled slightly, "Do ye now, Tatiana? Do ye really want to know me?" Adian took her arm in his calloused hand, and led her down a path toward the herb gardens. It was a nice garden and secluded. Not that he'd do anything to Tatiana, but he perhaps would feel better telling her of Thorn without others around. "So, perhaps you told me when we first met, but what do you do here at the fort?" Adian quaried.... |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 25 2010, 10:51 PM Post #42 |
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Author: linnet Date: Wed Jun 04, 2008 9:13 pm Gawain Gawain leaned his body forward, resting his elbow on the table, and rubbing his forehead with the upraised thumb and fingers. His hair dangled around his face and arm in wet clumps. He was angry at himself. He had no business being affected by Catherine’s presence. He hardly knew her, but the trouble was, how he preferred to know her was so far askew from what he’d see if he turned around to look. He was determined not to look, but the knowledge that she was there was like an insistent force at his back, prodding and distracting. His self-directed anger was fueled by the realization that he would be faced with this over and over again. The tavern was the most logical place for Catherine to pick up customers. And Gawain would be damned if he’d avoid the place because of her. Especially now that he planned to spend a lot of time here amassing money to pay for his impulsive weapon purchase. Something else had him troubled, and it took a few minutes to sort out what it was. He was realizing that Catherine would probably always be working when their paths crossed. If he wanted to talk to her, he’d only cut into the time she could be doing business. And being seen with her would only discourage potential liaisons. The thought that he wouldn’t be able to hear of her mysterious places and creatures, or see her bright curiosity again, hit him hard. It felt like a heavy door slamming shut. The blonde knight lifted his head from his hand when a serving girl deposited two brimming ales on the table. He quickly pulled out enough coins to cover both drinks, waving off Galahad from paying. He rewarded the girl with an extra coin and a smile, although there wasn’t much behind it. He picked up one of the ales and raised the tankard, toast-like, toward Galahad. Then he took a long, deep, and very welcome drink. He set the tankard down, then simultaneously let out a breath of satisfaction, and wiped the back of his hand across his mouth and moustache. He savored the taste and sense of relaxation of the ale, so preferable to the crappy wine he’d had last night.
Gawain sat back and took another, not quite so long, drink, before finally feeling ready to talk. “I’m not being secretive. Cowardly maybe, but not secretive,” he said with a self deprecating smile. “What’s going on is that Brianna’s gone. She just up and left while we were away. All she told Fiona was that she was going back to her people because she didn’t feel safe here, and because I wasn’t ready to commit to things.” He watched intently across the table for Galahad’s reaction. “She didn’t even wait to find out if I came back from that battle or not, you know? “ Pausing after another drink, Gawain shook his head slowly and sighed. “I thought……Hell, I don’t know what I thought. She can do what she wants with her life, but that’s our baby she’s going to have, not just hers….I guess I really fucked things up, getting myself into all this, and then not being able to make it work.” |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 25 2010, 10:54 PM Post #43 |
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Author: sabor ice Date: Thur Jun 05, 2008 12:25 am Mordred Mordred didn't look up when someone rapped on his door. He continued to admire the various pieces of spruced up armor sprawled across the table. Honoring his appearance was something the knight treated diligently. It was a token of certain class, further distinguishing him from the filth bred of Sarmatian whores he was forced to serve with. It wasn't just appearance, though, oh no - it was also about presentation. He strove to make his pristine. Just because he paraded around pretending to be like one of the inferior didn't justify cause to smell or look like one of them. "Enter," he passively obliged, his back still to the door as it flew open.
The sound of the Optio's voice should've been enough to call any man to direct attention before a superior officer, but Mordred did not even break contact with his task as Amadeus spoke. The knight listened with general interest, the smile that slowly spread across his face incorrigible. He was clearly pleased by this new opportunity to overshadow Arthur's apparent lack of capability to carry out this mission himself. He lifted his sword from the table, angling the blade vertically as he admired the sweet craftsmanship, turning to face Amadeus. "And how fairs our beloved Commander?" Mordred wondered, his tone palpably sarcastic. His eyes were dark with amusement, his smirk wicked as he sheathed his sword in its rightful place by his side. His hand momentarily rested on the hilt as he turned partially back to the table, producing the pieces of his armor and appropriately dressing them upon his person. "Resting comfortably while the Sarmatian dog's head lays in his lap, I presume?" he snorted, throwing a glance back at the Optio. Cáel
Goodness, he would never get used to masquerading behind the name of his former lover! It was admittedly silly to begin with, but the Goth wasn't fond of being precarious. Surely the children wouldn't know the difference, having been far too young upon their father's departure to remember his face, and if Gabriel's wife was as mentally unstable as he had claimed, she also would be no obstacle. However, the Goth had no way of knowing just how many other people at the fort might remember the real Gabriel. Cáel couldn't allow himself to be caught in this lie like a fly to a web so easily - it would've soured his efforts and caused him to abandon this whole shenanigan. And, defeat never sat well with him. Once people started asking too many questions, it would become much too risky. He had to strike while the iron was hot! He gave a gracious nod of his head and sat down across from Darya. "Actually, I've only returned - from Eburacum - on business," Cáel replied, and conspicuously nudged the saddle bag on the floor with his foot. "My wife and two daughters live here at the fortress. They aren't expecting me, see? I'm hoping to pleasantly surprise them." The man cocked his head to the side, a lop-sided grin playing across his face as he observed Darya. "Enjoying that, are you, love?" he mused, with a subtle jut of his chin toward the mug of tea in her hands. Of course Cáel hadn't missed that she hadn't yet answered his earlier question. He wondered if she had darted his inquiry out of reluctance, or if she had simply been more pre-occupied with sipping her beverage. Milan
Milan was torn between feeling angry and chagrin as Mari slipped by him without another word. His one hand cupped his elbow as he pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. He closed his eyes and blew out a deep sigh, listening to the frantic sloshing of water from the bath somewhere behind him. A small measure of relief washed through him to hear her speak - at least she was not ignoring him as he had expected her to do. His hand dropped away from his face when he felt her small hand on his back. He inclined his head toward her voice as she came beside him, but he did not yet turn to meet her gaze. Apart of him wanted to instinctively repent for upsetting her, while the other half of told him to stand his ground. Had he had the right to be angry with her? At first, he had thought so, but as the uneasy silence stretched, he started to doubt his motive. Mari was smart and she was a woman - surely she was able to make decisions for herself. She knew what was best for her, not him. If she had sensed no danger from the stranger out in the rain, then perhaps he was simply overreacting. Ignorance was bliss - thinking of the alternative was positively gut-wrenching.
Of course not! he thought, his blue gaze flashing to her face, realizing what she had been trying to get at. He shook his head fiercely. Jealousy hadn't even crossed his mind at the time. The only thing he could think about was protecting her from potential harm, protecting her from being hurt again! Milan's face dropped. He knew she wouldn't understand his plethora of emotions. What good was he? What actually made him think he was good enough to take care of her when he couldn't even verbally communicate with her?! His features softened as he shook his head sadly. He stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her lithe form, his head dipping into her shoulder where his lips rested against her bare skin there. His eyes closed and he sighed again, hoping she'd at least understand this silent apology. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 25 2010, 10:59 PM Post #44 |
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Author: Pinkie Date: Thu Jun 05, 2008 3:30 am Drake How bloody masochistic!! Drake knew that this way led to nothing but an ongoing misery for him, watching Linnette mourn for her husband, watching her stomach grow with the life of the child she carried, the life of her husband's child. He knew the unpredictable nature of his own emotions that would inevitably lead to him hurting her ... wouldn't it? Could he restrain himself enough for long enough so as not to hurt her? Could he have the patience it would take to see her through her grief and out the other side? Dare he? For on the other side of her grief she would see that it was he who had stood by her all that time, she would feel indebted to him because it was her nature to give and take - not just take. And was it the right thing to do, to lead her to that point? Was it deceptive? Drake had designs upon her and he hated himself for it... and yet he trusted no other person in the world to care for her, to protect her and ... and yes, indeed, to protect her unborn child. But was that the best thing for her?
Her stammering words took him out of his internal quandry, making him face the here and now instead of the distant future. His green eyes were hard, harder than normal, and his brow was creased with the conflict of his earlier thoughts. Drake shook his head at her suggestion that he had anything else to do. He did. But nothing was as important as ensuring she was taken care of right now. Work would beckon soon enough but only when the situation with the woads was sorted would the training begin again. As it was all the men that he spent his time training had been called in to stand guard on the walls and organise the movement to the fortress squad bay from the burned out barracks. "From nothing." he finished her sentence and shrugged, placing his hand flat on the table. He drummed his fingers, looking over his shoulder to make eye contact with the barmaid who was watching him warily. He nodded his head towards the bowl which was empty, indicating another to be brought out, then turned back to Linnette. "Stay. Eat. I will come back for you." he intoned seriously, not wanting to sound so informal after such a blundering indiscretion earlier. He curled his fingers into his palm, wanting to pat her hand in reassurance but knowing he should not. Drake pushed from the bar and instead, placed a hand on Linnette's shoulder as he walked by, a brief touch to let her know that he was ... going? gone? Hell, it was just to touch her for the sake of it. Galahad Galahad liked to think he was just the same as the other Knights. He vied to be like them. He struggled to act the way they acted. It was a curse of the youngest of the pack to try emulate the ways of the older. So he treated women the way he thought his brothers-in-arms did. He drank the way they drank, thought the way they thought and felt the way he presumed the others felt. What Galahad never realised was... it was all a front. Oh he knew his brothers inside and out, knew what would make them tick and what would make them explode, but he didn't really know the intricacies of them the way he thought he did. He took his brothers at face-value. For instance, he would never have thought that Gawain would be ... soft for a whore. And not because she was gorgeous - but because she was smart. Oblivious... The youngest Knight lifted his mug in a mirror-toast to the blonde Knight and took a long swig, revelling in the potential to forget his woes at the bottom of the tankard. To forget Alina and how her little body had been held so tightly by another man, how her lips had been ... GAH! Another long guzzle of ale followed the first leaving Galahad with less than half left. He wiped the back of his hand against his mouth, lifting his eyebrows as Gawain began to speak.
Galahad listened, his mouth dropped open and his eyes turned a steely blue, furious that Brianna had done this to his friend! "Gone? Just ... up and gone?" he murmured, shaking his head in astonishment. And with the baby?! Galahad didn't even want to think about that. He almost thought to tell Gawain that it was probably for the best in case it was a boy and the Romans conscripted him when he came of age! But he thought better of it, reading between the lines of what Gawain said. He was really, truly upset about this. Would calling her a bitch make things better? Probably not. Would telling Gawain he was raelly sorry make him feel better? Nah. Perhaps reminding Gawain that this now meant he could bed any woman he wanted again... ? Definitely not. Sympathise, empathise... The dark haired knight never let his eyes slip from Gawain's face but his own face had slumped into abject misery. "Alina is cheating on me." he blurted out then felt his cheeks flush with embarrassment. He frowned, looking down at the table, lifting the mug to his lips and took yet another long, hard gulp, swallowing it noisily. Was it selfish to turn the conversation to his own woes? No - that was not what Galahad wanted to do. He wanted to show Gawain that… "Women just aren't fucking worth it brother. It's nothing to do with you or me, Gawain. It's them. They're the ones with the problems. Not us." he pouted sulkily, his head cocking to one side. He couldn't look at Gawain having admitted what he just had, and so he busied himself pulling splinters of wood from teh edge of the table. Amadeus Amadeus did not take it as an affront that Mordred did not snap to attention. Once inside the room he cuold see the Knight was readying his armour, and an impressive arrangement it was indeed. The Optio made himself comfortable leaning against the chest by the wall, folding his arms over his chest and pinching his chin between his fingers. His brow was furrowed, his grey eyes distant in thought. How was he going to go about this. There was no way he was going to even attempt to treat with Merlin. He would warn the woad. He would threaten him, cow him into submission. He could show Merlin the true might of the Empire.
Scipio snorted in amusement at Mordred's phrasing, folding both arms over his broad chest now as he lifted his grey eyes from the sword to the man's face. "He is injured but I am unsure how badly. I would probably never have guessed if that healer had not been so bloody brazen in cutting in and ordering the Commander on what he should and should not do. Honestly... It is laughable." Amadeus rolled his grey eyes and pushed off from the dresser. He turned towards the door intent on leaving to get his things together, but as he did so he called out to Mordred. "Send a boy to ready your horse, Mordred, and arrive a few moments late. I want your presence to be a surprise to the others." the Optio ordered, nto wanting anyone to go running to Arthur and whining that Amadeus was bringing someone else along. Arthur had not told him not to bring anyone else so where was the problem? Right. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 25 2010, 11:00 PM Post #45 |
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Author: Elessars Girl Date: Thu Jun 05, 2008 6:46 am Arthur Arthur’s side throbbed as he inhaled a deep sigh and stretched out both of his long legs on the bed. He slid his hand up underneath his tunic. Thick fingers gently probed at the row of stitches beneath his dressing and found a tiny amount of dampness there. A soft groan vibrated in his throat. No doubt the physical measures Arthur had been forced to take earlier to prevent Lancelot from reaching Scipio had resulted in some damage to Neeve’s fine stitchery. Yet, the damage to Lancelot would have been far worse had Arthur not intervened. Punishment. What would truly be fitting for Lancelot’s crime? How could Arthur find it in his logical mind or in his heart to punish his lieutenant for his obvious actions in defense of his weakened and wounded commanding officer? Reward is loyalty with a flogging? No. Certainly the First Knight’s temper would be the end of him one day….but not this day. Arthur’s lip curled up into a wry grin as one thought came to him….Perhaps no ale for a week would do. “Lancelot, how you complicate my life and my command.” Arthur said aloud while slightly rolling his head from side to side. Not wanting to think on the matter any longer, Arthur sighed and retrieved the hand from underneath his tunic to scrub his fingers over his darkly stubbled face. His green eyes then shut against the glowing light of the fire in the hearth and he attempted to find solace in prayer. God would surely guide him, God would provide….. In the few quiet moments before Arthur drifted off into a light slumber he prayed for peace; he prayed for the safe return of the men he’d been forced to send on this urgent mission in his stead and he prayed for the Optio’s success in his negotiations with Merlin. And then Arthur prayed for a clear understanding of the bond between he and Lancelot and of the love between he and Darya – could Arthur at last find a sliver of peace in his heart? Arthur had felt the great weight of guilt again as it pressed down on his chest at the loss of yet another one of his knights. Gedeon had not deserved such an end. Arthur had seen the deep pains in Dagonet’s eyes at the loss of his son. He had seen the incredible heartbreak and sorrow that dominated Linnette’s gentle eyes. And Arthur knew he could never stomach being the cause of that same pain in Darya’s soulful eyes….nor in Lancelot’s fiery amber ones. Arthur’s life was forfeit. He was a soldier; Rome’s and God’s mighty warlord – defender of peace and order here at Badon Keep, along the great Wall. He was not a husband or a father. Arthur was only a dutiful son and solemn servant to his faith. His hand reached for his father’s cross where is lay pressed to his skin just below his throat. A rough fingertip slowly caressed the smooth metal surface of the symbol of his faith. Weakness, exhaustion and never ending pain – both physical and emotional – won out at last, no more thought, only darkness as Arthur slipped into sleep….never hearing the next interruption as yet another firm rap came at his door. |
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