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June 2008
Topic Started: Mar 23 2010, 07:18 PM (3,704 Views)
golden_trillium

Admin
Author: LadyCastus
Date: Mon Jun 09, 2008 12:52 pm
Malcus Barbattus


Malcus watched as Tristan finally got the woad woman over and
into his saddle. They started making their way toward barn
doors as Amadeus and Mordred mounted.

Amadeus
 
"There was another Woad. Where is she?"


Malcus looked at the optio, taking in his arrogance.

"She is in the dungeons where she belongs. Commander Castus
only ordered this one to go along with us. The one in the
prison is only a child yet someone beat her good," Barbattus
said, narrowing his eyes at Mordred. "There she is and there
she will stay until Arthur tells me otherwise."

Then the captain tapped his heels to Falco, leading his mount
out of the stables and into the cold, drizzling rain.
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: Lancelot
Date: Mon Jun 09, 2008 2:18 pm
Lancelot


The Sarmatian wanted to hit himself for stumbling over Arthur
- especially when Arthur noticed it. He tried to laugh it
off...but that didn't seem to sit too well with the injured
commander.

Arthur
 
“You need rest. I want you to swear to me…swear that you
will go to your bed now and rest. I want your word that
you will not do anything foolish. I need you here,
Lancelot, and I need you recovered. We will discuss the
Optio and his requests regarding you later tonight."


Lancelot's red and tired eyes tracked from Arthur's one handed
grip on his leathers to the other man's face. He cocked an
arched eyebrow haughtily - how dare he assume he knows what's
wrong with me anymore? - but as he listened to the Roman's
voice, Lancelot found himself relaxing his tight stance and
sighing with resignation. He knew, of course, he'd do no such
thing as rest; he'd see to his fellows and then after that,
perhaps a bath - and maybe a willing wench.

Or maybe just a lot of drink. He'd have to see. Especially
with the rain pissing down the way it was. And besides, he
hadn't been too friendly with any of the tavern girls recently
- he wasn't sure if any of them would have him. And he really
did need to make sure his weapons were cleaned and ready for
the next, inevitable fight. And what of Neeve - and Darya? He
coud find Arthur's lover for him and bring her here to watch
him.

And then I could disappear from his life forever, as if I were
the smoke and flame of the torches in the hall. Perhaps it
would hurt less that way.

His arm twinged, though a lot less vehemently than before, and
he pulled away slowly from Arthur's grasp. He sat on the edge
of the bed as before, and allowed himself a good, long look at
his old friend and onetime ... so much more.

"I will give my word that I will not do anything foolish...for
me," he said as he regarded Arthur impassively. Despite his
wanting to be serious and to get away with his blades so he
could have a proper think, Lancelot found a small smile was
stretching his mouth. "I will be as good as I can possibly be
without destroying the minds of the men who might see me
acting 'out of character,' as it were." The sides of his face
hurt from the action of his smile, but as he watched Arthur,
it did not go away - just yet. "I will be fine. I will heal,
the same as I continue to do each time, despite the gods'
amazingly awful sense of humor at keeping me alive."

He shook his head, the tiniest of laughs passing through his
throat and lips. "I will be here when you call, Arthur. I
always will be."

Wait.

Lancelot's brows drew together, and his eyes unfocused as he
examined that statement. I will be here when you call. I
always will be.

Could it be as simple as all that? Could Lancelot adjust to
the idea that ... he might be able to be at peace with himself
and he and Arthur's new version of a relationship? Or did he
wish to fight it and ignore happiness and the small amount of
contentment he might find by letting that part of his hold on
Arthur go?

"Jesus," he copied the swear that he'd heard some of the
Legionaries use in times of pure anger. "I will take care. I
promise it." I will not think on this now. Not now, when he is
so close and I am so out of control.

He stood, and licked his cracked lips as he stared down at
Arthur. Unbidden, his hand reached out and touched the lines
that were almost always present between Arthur's green eyes,
much as he had their last night of the campaign. "These are
too deep, now."

He drew the finger once down the middle of Arthur's forehead,
and to his horror he found he didn't mind. Jesus, indeed. What
was he thinking? Did he want to make things more confusing for
himself? Sighing, Lancelot turned from the bed and, after
throwing his borrowed leathers over his shoulder, took up his
blades in their sheath and shouldered them as well. He put his
hand on the latch - funny, wasn't I just at this point? - but
cocked his head enough to see Arthur. "Do you want for
anything? And tell me, please, otherwise I'll send Jols to you
with some warm water and wonderful, herby hot tea." He
smirked, but his heart wasn't in the gesture.
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: golden_trillium
Date: Mon Jun 09, 2008 2:50 pm
Linnette


Drake
 
"That the Optio is an ill-prepared cun..."


Linnette's eyes grew wide with surprise as she discerned what
word was coming next- but Drake didn't actually complete it.
He winced slightly, as if remembering she was there, and the
look he snuck her was clearly apologetic. Linnette gave a
soft, nervous laugh in response- she wasn't entirely
comfortable with an insult to Amadeus like that. Surely he
hadn't meant any harm, whatever the problem was- it must have
been an oversight. No one was perfectly prepared for
everything all the time. She swallowed and continued to watch
Drake, who was taking a bite of bread before he went on. It
was strangely gratifying to watch him eat the food she had
brought, and know he appreciated it- gratifying to know that
there was some thing she could do for him, however small.

Drake
 
"The room arrangements have not been thought out
thoroughly. They have one rather large quarters availabe
for you but...it has two rooms in it so you have to find
someone to bunk in with or...it's a mess."


"Bunk in with?" Linnette's forehead screwed up in
consternation as she sat a little back on her stood, looking
at Drake confusedly. "I don't think I know anyone I..." She
broke off, shaking her head. She didn't know of anyone to bunk
in with! Everyone either had families, or in the case of the
tavern girls, they were already paired up to share the rooms
above the kitchen two by two. Maybe Ione? She slept in the
weaving shop, and Linnette did not think she would want to
move- and she was not sure whether or not the weaving shop had
room for her to move there either...she could ask, but Drake
was right. It was a mess.

"Well, damn it," she remarked frustatedly, leaning an elbow on
the counter with a sigh...only to realize belatedly that she
had sworn. Blood rushed hot and mortifying to her cheeks, and
she turned her head and hid her face in her hand, stammering
out a barely audible "sorry" from behind it.
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: Elessars Girl
Date: Mon Jun 09, 2008 5:02 pm

Arthur


There was what appeared to be a flash of annoyance in
Lancelot’s eyes again, but Arthur ignored it. He would have
the other man’s promise or the Commander would not allow his
lieutenant out of his sight. The last thing Arthur needed
right now was Lancelot taking matters into his own hands and
riding out after Merlin….especially unbeknownst to Arthur. Did
Lancelot not understand that Arthur was only ordering the man
to do what was best for him? Yet, as Lancelot’s expression
softened and he slowly pulled away from Arthur’s grasp, the
Roman began to have real hope that the other man understood
what he was asking. Green eyes continued to follow Lancelot’s
every movement as the man sat down on the bed again. Was he in
pain? The lines in Arthur’s brow deepened in concern, but he
refrained from reaching for the other man again.

Lancelot
 
"I will give my word that I will not do anything
foolish...for me. I will be as good as I can possibly be
without destroying the minds of the men who might see me
acting 'out of character,' as it were…..I will be fine.
I will heal, the same as I continue to do each time,
despite the gods' amazingly awful sense of humor at
keeping me alive."


That was not exactly what Arthur had wanted to hear. Lancelot
had carefully – on purpose or not – sidestepped promising
anything specific. But considering how exhausted the knight
appeared to be, Arthur doubted Lancelot would do anything too
foolish….for now at any rate.

Lancelot
 
"I will be here when you call, Arthur. I always will
be."


Why had hearing Lancelot’s promise hurt so much? Was it
Arthur’s own guilt at not always being there for Lancelot
rearing its ugly head? He opened his mouth to speak, but
nothing came. His mouth snapped back shut and his fingers
flexed in the furs covering the bed. Offering his ‘gratitude’
for such a promise seemed a trifling and unnecessary gesture.

Lancelot
 
"Jesus………I will take care. I promise it."


Jesus? Arthur’s eyebrows rose for a brief moment at Lancelot’s
chosen expletive. But he made no comment in regards to it.

“I am glad of it, my friend,” Arthur quietly answered at last
and allowed a small nod in affirmation as Lancelot stood
again. The Roman’s head throbbed and he brought a hand up to
briefly rub two fingers at his temple. Rest…both men
desperately required it. And as if Lancelot had read Arthur’s
thoughts on the matter, he reached down to trace a finger over
the Roman’s creased brow. The contact was not unwanted and
although Arthur would never admit it, Lancelot’s touch was
familiar and soothing and actually seemed to ease the
throbbing in his head. But immediately the Roman’s brain
reminded Arthur of why he had shoved Lancelot away…..He cannot
love and I cannot give him what he needs.

Lancelot
 
"These are too deep, now."


Arthur’s eyelids languidly slid shut. At least until Lancelot
pulled away again….before Arthur would be forced to remove the
knight’s fingers from his skin to break the intimate contact.
But inside – in the very depths of his bewildered and broken
heart – Arthur knew that he could not do it again. Something
had changed. Was it peace? Had he and Lancelot finally reached
level ground between them again? Arthur prayed it to be true.
Arthur slowly released the breath he had not realized he’d
been holding as Lancelot turned away.

My mind is addled. I cannot think any longer. Rest. God help
me to rest now.

Lancelot
 
"Do you want for anything? And tell me, please,
otherwise I'll send Jols to you with some warm water and
wonderful, herby hot tea."


“No, I am fine, I assure you. And do NOT give Jols any
suggestions on my behalf. He does well enough on his own to
fuss over me,” Arthur answered with a small smile gracing his
weary expression. The small amount of humor between them was a
comfort. Normalcy. He also forced himself to take the offer at
face value and not over analyze Lancelot’s intentions in
asking. The honest answer: Arthur wanted peace…and truth…and
at the moment a few hours rest. Then he would sort out the
Optio’s request for satisfaction and any other matters
requiring his attention this day. And Arthur would pray for
the success of the Optio’s mission of peace to Merlin.

“Go on, my friend, we will speak again later tonight,” Arthur
said in parting. He slowly albeit stiffly slid back down and
fully stretched out on the bed again. But Arthur turned his
head to the side; his green eyes sought out Lancelot one last
time before the knight had exited the room.

“And perhaps after you have enjoyed a generous amount of ale,
you will then share with me what still troubles you, hm?”
Arthur added a gentle reminder that he was yet aware that
Lancelot had ‘something’ distressful on his mind. And although
the Roman would not push his friend for the moment, he had no
intention of letting it go completely. Later.

And without further hesitation, Arthur gently crossed his arms
over his abdomen and closed his weary eyes.
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: LadyCastus
Date: Mon Jun 09, 2008 5:14 pm
Titrus


Catherine
 
"This way – Just here…"


Titrus followed the blond down the long dark corridor. She was
slightly ahead of him, holding his hand. He let his eyes to
drift down her back to the soft mound of her bottom. He
watched her derriere move beneath the cloth of her dress and
his erection stiffened again, straining against the soft
leather of his trousers. When they arrived just outside what
appeared to be a small room, the woman turned around and cast
Titrus a playful yet seductive look, still twirling a wisp of
curl in her fingers. Titrus looked at her creamy bosom again
and smiled. Catherine opened the door to the room and Titrus
stepped inside, looking around with his hand on the hilt of
sword. Even in his lust, the Roman knew he should be careful
following a whore into a secret place. It could certainly be a
trap. Titrus walked over and opened the door to what he found
to be a closet. Confident that all was well, Titrus released
his grip on his sword, turned around and smiled again.
Catherine closed the door with a click, making sure it was
locked.

Catherine
 
"How come you have never taken me before, Titrus?"


Catherine closed the short distance between them and pressed
her womanhood against him. Titrus fought the urge to grind his
hips. The woman twisted her fingers around his with one hand
and touched his collarbone with the other. Titrus smiled at
her.

“I have seen you before,” he answered, “but I am just recently
widowed. My wife died just 3 seasons ago. It has been quite a
while since I’ve held the company of a woman. You will be my
first lover since her death.”

To show the woman that it was not sympathy he sought, Titrus
lowered his head to her neck, taking in her scent. She smelled
of spring flowers during a rain storm - God how he felt the
burning desire in his loins. Titrus grabbed a handful of the
woman’s hair causing her to tilt her neck, exposing her long
and beautiful neck. Titrus smiled again and slowly, oh so
slowly licked her pulse, running his tongue from just below
her earlobe down to her collarbone. With his other hand, he
removed the woman’s hand from his own chest and pinned it
behind her.

“I want to kiss you. Is that okay?” Titrus knew that
some…working women…preferred not to kiss. They considered the
action far too personal. But Titrus longed for the closeness
of a kiss. He may have been shy to confront the woman, but
Titrus knew he was a skilled lover and now that they were in
the privacy of the small room, he wanted to take control.
Titrus was a man who derived pleasure from pleasing a woman
almost more than receiving pleasure himself. Deeta had taught
him many things about pleasure and pleasing a woman was the
only way Titrus knew.

The lieutenant cupped Catherine’s breast and rubbed his thumb
over her nipple, slowly, until it strained to show itself
against the fabric of her dress. Releasing her hair, he
lowered his other hand and gently squeezed her bottom, pulling
her closer to what he had to offer.
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: Elessars Girl
Date: Mon Jun 09, 2008 5:19 pm
Derfel


Derfel looked on as Dagonet spoke softly to Saoirse when the
red head joined the tall Sarmatian on his bed. She still
looked a bit shaken up to Derfel, but surely Dagonet would
sort out whatever it was. But of course the younger knight was
willing to help out if Saoirse should need anything while
Dagonet was laid up here in the infirmary. And speaking
of…Linnette might need looking in on again. And as if Dagonet
had read Derfel’s thoughts….

Dagonet
 
"I don't want to keep you from your duty, Derfel... and
Lucius….Thank you..."


“You are most welcome, my friend. And the only duty you be
keeping me from is looking in on Linnesse and Linnette,”
Derfel answered with gentle blue eyes for his friend. No doubt
Dagonet still suffered greatly at the loss of Gedeon. Derfel
still carried the weight of that particular loss himself, not
to mention Aelle’s. He blew out a breath and then opened his
mouth to ask Saoirse something when a young girl fluttered
into the space between where he stood and the end of Dagonet’s
bed. Derfel could not suppress a wide smile at the child,
recalling seeing her in the tavern a few times before.

“M’lady Saoirse, anything you be needin’? I am on my way to
the tavern with Lucius here,” Derfel briefly gestured towards
the Roman soldier standing at his side. “So if there is
anything…I’d be glad to fetch it for ya,” He finished with a
warm smile for Dagonet’s lady.
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: LadyCastus
Date: Mon Jun 09, 2008 7:33 pm
Mona


Mona shifted her weight. She and Guinevere had been crouched
down for what seemed like an eternity since they’d heard
Neeria’s voice. Two men who were obviously Roman soldiers had
gone into the stables just a short while ago. Mona shifted
again and started thinking about her plan to get rid of
Guinevere. She would obviously have to make her move soon. If
they were actually successful in rescuing Neeria, Mona may
lose her opportunity. Out of the corner of her eye, she looked
at Guinevere with pure hatred.

Suddenly, the barn doors opened and several riders came out.
Instantly Mona recognized the men whom had just gone inside
the stable. But there was another man also who also appeared
to be a Roman soldier. Next to him was a rugged-looking man
carrying Neeria on his horse! Mona blinked just to make sure
she was seeing correctly. What was Neeria doing on a horse
with these men? What was going on and where were they going?

Mona looked at Guinevere in genuine surprise, confused by what
she was watching.

“What’s going on?” she whispered. “We have to follow them!”
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: golden_trillium
Date: Tue Jun 10, 2008 4:33 pm

Tristan


As the Optio questioned the Captain, Mordred sat his horse
nearby looking slightly studiously attentive and respectful,
and Neeria shifted uncomfortably in front of Tristan- though
not too far in any one direction, owing to the fact that he
kept a tight grip on her- the scout became aware of something
else in the courtyard- something that was not quite right. The
rain was beginning to let up, and people were starting to move
about the courtyard a bit more- but most of them drew neither
Tristan's attention nor his suspicion. What did was the deep
archway protecting a little-used entrance to the weapons
stores, just around the corner of the courtyard from where he
and the others stood.

Someone was in there. Two someones, in fact, and they were
taking care not to come out of the shadowed part of the
archway into the full exposure of the courtyard. From this
angle and in this relatively dim, cloudy light, Tristan could
not tell who they were- it could have been anyone, even just
kids playing around. But the rather furtive behavior was what
triggered the rise of hair on the back of his neck. Whoever in
there was acting as though they had some reason to hide, and
whether that reason was some sort of game, or whether it was
real, was anyone's guess. But considering the prisoner who
rode before Tristan on his saddle, the scout was not inclined
to shrug it off.

Making sure once again that his grip on Neeria was secure,
Tristan stole a glance at the Optio and the Captain. Talk- no
more than talk going on there as yet. No one else seemed to
have noticed what he had as yet.
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: LadyCastus
Date: Tue Jun 10, 2008 7:37 pm
Neeria


Neeria strained to reach for Tristan but in her terror, all
she did was make things more difficult. The pain in her side
was throbbing, which also didn’t help matters. Finally,
Tristan reached over and literally pulled the shrieking woman
onto his horse, situating her in front of him in the saddle.
Neeria squeezed her eyes shut and breathed heavily, almost
hyperventilating. She pressed back into Tristan’s chest,
trembling, still grabbing at his hands and rambling in her
native language.

Tristan
 
"Fuck's sake, sit still. You're not hurt,"


Tristan’s gruff voice reverberated in Neeria’s ear. She nodded
her head, trying to pull herself together. When Tristan
shifted, the woman panicked all over and once again dug her
fingers into the scout as he slowly guided his horse out of
the stable. Tristan’s grip around her middle was tight and his
forearm pressed hard into her wounded side. Neeria had trouble
breathing but didn’t dare protest. Tristan might’ve thrown her
from the horse. The woad peered down at the ground and gasped
at how high up they were. She wiped the tears from her eyes
and tried desperately to regain her composure. She had a
splitting headache and her whole body ached.

Neeria looked at the other men on horses - all Romans.
Surprisingly, she wasn’t frightened. She was more afraid of
the horse. Once again, Neeria pressed her head back into
Tristan to keep herself steady.

As the procession made its way to the courtyard, Neeria
wondered what had happened to Ash. Was he still behind the
Wall? Would he attempt a rescue? How many were with him? As
the questions flooded her mind, Neeria looked around. Two
shadows in an alleyway suddenly caught her eye. She fought the
urge to sit upright and she held back her gasp. Neeria
recognized the forms, both female, even in the shadows. After
all, they were her war sisters. Neeria knew without a doubt
that she was seeing Guinevere and Mona. They had come for her.
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golden_trillium

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Author: linnet
Date: Tue Jun 10, 2008 7:59 pm
Mother Lavinia


After successfully disposing of the slovenly knight and the
sullen knight, Lavinia made her way to where she had left
Dagonet and Bors resting. She saw that Jols had indeed snuck
by while she’d been distracted. But he was sitting beside the
big knight, and they were talking so quietly, not even waking
Bors, that she decided to let them be. She resumed her patrol
of the infirmary, making mental notes of who occupied the
cots, and what housekeeping needed to be done. The nun didn’t
stop to examine or tend to any of the patients. This was
strictly an administrative inspection. Instead she took stock
of which of her staff appeared to be doing their job with some
degree of proficiency. For those on staff who were nowhere to
be seen, a special list was compiled in the old woman’s brain.

Halfway through her tour, Lavinia’s attention was grabbed by a
ruckus taking place under the covers of a bed. Lumps of
various sizes moved up, down, and sideways. The nun watched
with a scowl. One could only imagine what was going on under
there, and it all seemed nasty. She was about to intervene by
pulling back the covers and chastising the offender publicly,
when a girl emerged. The child tossed a piece of clothing on
the floor, and sat looking pleased at the garment she now
wore. Lavinia knew the girl to be the older of the two sisters
who had been brought in a few days earlier with the fever.
Neither child seemed seriously ill now, and Lavinia remembered
that they had appeared to be up to something that morning when
the Woads were brought in. The thought of the Woads made
Lavinia want nothing more to do with any children for a while.
Still, it was troubling that these two girls seemed to have no
family or other adults in attendance. She looked around for
the younger one, but didn’t see her, and hoped that she was
only off somewhere within the infirmary.

Trying to rearrange her face to not-quite-so-crabby, Lavinia
approached the thin girl. The old woman had not treated her
fever personally, but she trusted that the youngster would
recognize that she was a healer. “How are you feeling, child?”
she asked, placing her hand on the girl’s forehead to check
for fever. “I believe you are well enough to leave soon. Will
someone be coming who can take you and your sister home?”
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: lady ione
Date: Tue Jun 10, 2008 8:13 pm
Adian


Tatiana
 
"You sound very skilled and talented, Adian." "When I
was a bit younger, I was quite the imp with the jokes
and pranks in my village. It was all done in fun and
just for laughs." "I don't do that kind of thing now,
but then.."


Adian normally liked his women to be more mysterious, and it
seemed to him that Tatiana was more than willing to give out
information on her background...or so it seemed. He only gave
her a smile, not wanting to divulge too much about his own
background. If she is full of pranks and such, bet she's a
real fun one in....He stopped his thoughts for it was too soon
for him to even think of that. Adian felt the soaking wet cat
huddle closer inside his cloak. Llawen was mewing and
sneezing...shivering. Obviously, the grey cat and Ione had
become separated as they were inseparable....

Tatiana
 
"How much ale should a horse get or be given? Is it
possible for a horse to get drunk on ale?" "Aww..poor
thing, he's soaked. Hi Llawen" "I think that we'd best
head inside out of this rain."


Adian agreed and followed her out of the gardens with the cat
wrapped in the cloak. He had met the smithy, and was glad that
Tatiana had thought to lead them there. Once inside, he waited
for Tatiana to enter before shutting the door. The smithy
looked up from his work and was surprised to see the three
enter. Putting down his hammer, the husky man approached them,
then his eyes fell to the cat who was purring comfortably and
contentedly. Petting the wet fur, he addressed the little
animal, 'Well champ, what'dya wanna go outside for...?' The
man was big built but took the cat from Adian and placed it on
a woolen blanket near a warm fire.

'He's been camping out here for a long time now....kills the
rats and mice, ' The man returned to Adian and Tatiana. 'I'll
take good care of him....good companion that one.'
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: sabor ice
Date: Wed Jun 11, 2008 12:06 am
Fleur


Fleur was not necessarily an eavesdropper - she was just
curious. People simply interested her. She liked to know about
people she wasn't familiar with; she liked to talk with them.
It never occurred to her that not everybody cared for
children, nor that some strangers would purposely seek to harm
her, and for no reason at all at times. In her eyes, everybody
was good, everybody was equal, and everybody was the hero.

The adults around her conversed amongst themselves, and Fleur
naturally tuned out most of the 'grown-up' talk. Selective
hearing was an inevitably impressionable childhood tool.

The little girl closed one eye and cupped her hands around her
open one, imitating the use of a telescope as she silently
observed. The bed-ridden man glanced in her direction, but he
did not smile at her. Instead he studied her with an
unfathomable expression, and it ultimately made Fleur frown
and quietly go 'hmm...' through locked lips. The woman with
her 'hair on fire' was solely focused on him. Fleur rotated
her abdomen and looked up through her 'hand-made' telescope at
the fair-haired man beside her. He smiled brightly down at
her, and it encouraged a small giggle to bubble up from
Fleur's throat. Past the fair-haired man was a dark-haired
one, and his face was astonishingly familiar to the little
blonde. Fleur pursed her lips in thought, narrowing her blue
eyes as she intently scrutinized the soldier. Finally her
features softened and then lit up in recognition. She pointed
a finger at Lucius.

"Hey, I know you!" Fleur squeaked delightedly.

She put on a playful pout and pounded her little fists onto
her hips.

"You wouldn't lemme see your sword that one time in the
'davern'," she chided matter-of-factly, bringing up a finger
to scratch an itch on the side of her nose in the meantime.
Fleur shrugged her shoulders up to her ears and smiled
innocently. "That's ok, but I was just lookin' y'know. I
wan'ed you to know that I was just...lookin'."









Cassidy

Mother Lavinia
 
“How are you feeling, child? I believe you are well
enough to leave soon. Will someone be coming who can
take you and your sister home?”


Child.

Cassidy scowled at that word, immediately forgetting the
slight sense of accomplishment she had felt managing to change
dresses without showing her secrets to the world. Her brow
frowned into a sharp 'v' and she jerked her head away
defiantly when the old healer with the pinched face tried to
place a palm there. Cassidy wasn't as intimidated of Lavinia
as she probably should've been, and that showed through on the
girl's soured features. She didn't like the way the woman
looked down on her, seemingly judging her more deeply than
just from a healer's perspective. The blonde defensively
crossed her arms over her chest.

"No," Cassidy replied, curtly. She lifted her chin, blue eyes
penetrating Lavinia's, essentially staring her down,
challenging her even. Her tone was flat as she added: "They're
all dead."

Well, perhaps that was not entirely true, but who was to know?
Her mother was dead, that Cassidy was positive about. As for
her father, she had been almost too young to recall the events
leading up to his departure - although she supposed it was
possible his departure had not included death. He had
simply...gone. Vanished. Abandoned his family. Her mouth ran
dry. Her father was no more...dead to her.

"I take care of my sister," she added, matter-of-factly.
Cassidy threw the covers off of her lap and swung her legs
over the bedside opposite where Lavinia was. She stood and
glanced pointedly back at the old healer. Her voice was tight,
her tone sounding final, dismissive: "We're fine. Thank you."
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: Kay
Date: Wed Jun 11, 2008 1:26 am
Guinevere


Guinevere watched as the group of riders came out into the
courtyard, instantly spying her friend.

Mona
 
“What’s going on? We have to follow them!”


The Woad princess made a mental note of the number of Romans
surrounding the horse on which Neeria was sitting. They could
not attempt to rescue her here; they were outnumbered. Even
if, by some miracle, they could kill the Romans and get close
to Neeria, she was being held in the clutches of one of the
Sarmatians. Guinevere knew the scout of old; the man was a
fearsome warrior and Neeria would be dead long before they got
near.

Guinevere had to admit that Mona was right; the only option
was follow the group and hope that a chance for rescue would
arise once outside the fortress. Neeria was looking around now
and Guinevere tensed, for she saw her friend glance in their
direction, saw the recognition on her face! Neeria had seen
them! At least now she knew that they had not abandoned her.
Guinevere retreated back further into the shadows, for if
Neeria could seen them, then it was possible that the sharp
eyed scout would spot them, too. She pulled Mona back with
her.

"Neeria has seen us" Guinevere whispered. "As soon as the
horses move, we will follow them"
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: Pinkie
Date: Wed Jun 11, 2008 12:20 pm
Amadeus


Amadeus was not concerned about the other woad. Not in the
normal decent way at least. He was just curious as to what
Arthur intended on doing with a bloody woad-child. He should
have had her killed by now as she served no purpose and would
only grow up to be a damn woad warrior and royal pain in the
arse at a later date. Was it just him that saw this problem?

Malcus
 
"She is in the dungeons where she belongs. Commander
Castus only ordered this one to go along with us. The
one in the prison is only a child yet someone beat her
good, There she is and there she will stay until Arthur
tells me otherwise."


The Optio listened with distant interest, his grey eyes
scanning Mordred and then he looked towards the woad wench
sitting on Tristan's saddle. He clicked his tongue and nodded
his head at Barbattus' answer, ignoring the man's suggestively
insolent tone. He did quirk an eyebrow however, giving a
mocking grin to the Captain -

"Sympathy for the enemy, Captain? A woad child will grow into
a woad adult. Do not forget it." he said tersely, then
gestured towards the woad on Tristan's saddle, speaking to
Barbattus for he would nto lower himself to speak to the
Sarmatian dog. "One wrong move from her and she is to be
bound." he added non-chalantly, kicking his horse forward and
heading towards the courtyard. Once he reached the threshold,
Amadeus kicked his horse to a faster pace. Outisde the rain
was finally easing off which the Roman saw as a good omen for
this mission. He turned the grey stallion he rode towards the
gates of Badon Hill, gesturing for them to be opened.
He galloped along the edge of the wall before striking out
across country, setting a relatively easy pace. Amadeus did
not bother to keep a look out around him - that is what
Barbattus and Tristan were for after all. He cast a cautionary
look towards Mordred however, nodding his head at the man in
silent communication that this was their time, their
opportunity.
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: TwistOfShadows
Date: Wed Jun 11, 2008 3:46 pm

Eyla


Burning, aching thighs…

Oh yes, that was the perfect way to end the day. It didn’t
matter that her knees were half useless beneath her skirts,
nor did it matter that her hair tumbled down over her rounded
bosom. It was all for show, and such a beautiful show she
made! Dark eyes peaked out from thick eyelashes, and they were
liquid black, satisfied. Her small lips were curled into a
satisfied smile, and her hips swayed to the perfect rhythm of
her seduction. Eyla loved life. She loved its rudeness, its
impatience, its lack of community…and most of all, she loved
its flirtations. Eyla was a whore; let no-one paint her
otherwise. Prostitute, wench, filthy little woman with a
talent for seduction. It mattered not, because she enjoyed it.
She lived for it. Her body hummed with the aftermath of
love-making, such job satisfaction! She wondered if the
barmaids felt the same after a shift? She doubted it, and
purred a low hum of satisfaction in her throat. She glanced
down at her tiny fingers, and felt the softness of the skin.
No calluses, no scratches. Eyla had the hands of a noble
woman…a woman who dwelt in silk and satin, not drunken men and
pitchers of ale…

“Eyla, you are perfect…” She spoke sweetly to herself, not
caring for her surroundings.

The fortress of Badon Hill was shadowed by a large sheet of
graying afternoon sky, and Eyla could smell rain in the air.
She glanced down at her slippered feet, and quickened her
pace. A drunken and rather smelly man lay slumped against the
wall of the tavern, and Eyla paused…almost tempted to take any
coin he might have. It was tempting. Drunken men were easy
prey, and she usually took pride in seducing them and charging
extra. Indeed, she had learnt that masculine wit and intellect
was rare. They were simply good at one thing, and Eyla reaped
the benefits. Oh yes, she did. She felt her pleasured nipples
rub against the inside of her bodice, and raked her fingers
back through her hair. No, she didn’t have time to seduce….she
had a duty.

Duty?

Eyla nearly laughed aloud at that word, and ducked into the
corridor leading to Artorius’ quarters. She was a maid to the
Roman Commander of Badon Hill, but only because she fancied a
quick session beneath his breeches. The whore fancied he’d
feel quite satisfactory beneath his tunic. She’d nearly had
him once, oh so nearly! She remembered that night well. It had
been one of the only sensual experiences worth remembering.
They’d lain together before the raging fire, the prostitute
and the Roman Commander. It was folly! Truly! Eyla did not
dream like other girls. She did not care for fanciful dreams
or aspirations…she knew her worth, and yet, Artorius was a
project. She found his company entertaining, and his
impatience with her mannerisms was delectable. But recently?
He had been away, and life had been quite dull at the
fortress. Eyla enjoyed her other patrons, but Artorius was a
challenge. He did not melt infront of her. He wasn’t…pathetic…

He wasn’t…easy. And damn him for it.

Stopping at Artorius’ quarters, she lifted a delicate hand to
knock. And then changed her mind. Well, he wasn’t here was he?
Politeness was amusing, and a novelty. Eyla didn’t deal in
kindness….well, maybe a little bit…

With a swish of skirts and a quiet squeak of door, Eyla
entered. She hummed quietly, a pleasant tune….until she
noticed the roaring fire. Eyla halted sharply, but rather than
gasping at her rude entrance…she laughed. It was a pretty
sound, falling from her lips in a celebration of femininity,
and she shoved the door loudly. When did he return? She hated
to admit it, but she was excited! Her pretty features
brightened visibly, and she almost ran into the room…
And then she saw him. Such a picture of…defeat? She was not
sure, and a small frown began to play upon the woman’s
forehead. Artorius was sleeping, but he did not look
comfortable. He lay atop his furs, and his face gleamed with
fevered sweat. His strong cheekbones were paled with fatigue
and…illness? Eyla took a step forwards, almost cautious of her
movements. The Roman Commander did not look well…not well at
all, and Eyla wondered whether she should be here at all?
Would she be caught, and accused of causing this…horrible
scene? Eyla glanced backwards to the door, firmly shut, and
bit her lip…but could she leave him? Indeed, she could not.
Artorius was not family, nor particularly friend either…but he
had attempted to save her soul by offering her an ‘honest’
position in the fortress…

Honest? It didn’t sit well with Eyla. Not at all.

Eyla approached the bed slowly, knowing she would regret it!
Damn Roman! Why could he not take care of himself? Was it that
difficult? She was a maid, not a bloody healer…and yet she
found herself considering something sinful. Sinful? Humph! It
would have been sinful…if she’d wanted to feel him between her
thighs right now. But no…

Breathing in deeply, her bosom rose in her bodice and she
leant over the Commander. Her small hands reached to the
bottom of his tunic, and she began to tug it upwards. Slowly,
hesitantly. Her only thought was to make him more
comfortable…but god, how would this appear?

She knew exactly how it would appear!

And for the first time in her life, she was innocent…
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