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| June 2008 | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Mar 23 2010, 07:18 PM (3,702 Views) | |
| golden_trillium | Mar 28 2010, 12:13 AM Post #121 |
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Author: linnet Date: Thu Jun 12, 2008 8:30 pm Mother Lavinia
Lavinia stood at her usual straight posture, hands folded comfortably at her waist. She had no idea who the girl was referring to as ‘him’. And she suspected that the defiant youngster would not be readily open with information about ‘him’, since he had apparently left the sisters alone. The heartless cad! Then again, if the girl had told him to go away, Lavinia had to consider the possibility that the man had been less than kind to the children. Such a sorry situation! What if he did come back for them before Lavinia’s plan could be carried out? The officious nun would want to observe him and question his trustworthiness before allowing him to take the girls. The longer she watched the slender child, so full of bravado, the stronger the nun’s sense of Christian duty grew. She couldn’t take the children under her wing and give them comfort and protection. Even the image of that in Lavinia’s mind was ludicrous. She couldn’t befriend them. But she could take the matter in hand and make arrangements. It would all be for the good of the girls, and it couldn’t hurt her own immortal soul to pick up a little credit for an act of kindness. “Until something better is available, you and Fleur should stay here. I’m sure you can take care of your sister, but you have food and shelter in this infirmary as long as you need it,” the old woman said more matter-of- factly than kindly. The child seemed set on ignoring her, and that was fine. Lavinia had work to do, and was about to leave without waiting for a response when her attention was flagged.
Lavinia rolled her eyes and walked briskly toward the voice. No one ever called ‘Hello?” in the infirmary, as though it was an empty building. There was always a bustle of healers and visitors, and patients wandering around. The nun’s eyes displayed a tiny smile when she spotted the source of the clueless call for assistance. Another knight – the jittery black leather one. Surprisingly, he did seem to have walked in when no one else was nearby. What triggered the smile was the familiar look of revulsion on the knight’s face. Lavinia had observed over the years that they all were like that, each and every knight. It was as if the infirmary was the most vile location on earth, to be avoided at all costs. They would walk in and almost turn green as if the sights and smells of the place sickened them. The spry nun placed herself in front of the knight. All signs of her smile were gone. “This parade of wet Sarmatians is getting tiresome,” she said. “State your business.” She knew darn well that he had come, like the others, to see Dagonet. But she hadn’t yet made up her mind whether it would be a good idea to let him do so. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 28 2010, 12:15 AM Post #122 |
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Author: sabor ice Date: Fri Jun 13, 2008 12:40 am Nadeem The inspection went flawlessly, as Nadeem had already anticipated. He had traveled a long and winding road during the course of his life, and while the world was ever-changing, things like the routine protocol of a fort was something constant, something that would never change no matter where he'd go, and on some profoundly odd level, Nadeem took comfort in such an incontestable constant. In silence he speculated as the soldiers finished up - noting the tangible wave of relief that seemed to string from one to another. Supplies must've been dangerously low at Badon. What he and his men had delivered was not much, but hopefully enough to see the patrons through the winter. The arrival of fresh goods would be a revival of sorts for the fort, but Nadeem sought no credit, no glory, for he was no savior nor do-gooder. He had done what he had been paid to do - it was as simple as that. Nadeem tugged away the black cloth serving as a scarf of sorts from his face and peered down at the red-headed soldier that approached the side of Jafar. "The barracks were damaged during the last Woad attack - most of the soldiers have had to move into spare rooms, so I'm afraid there might not be many left to bunk you and your men," the soldier that called himself Rufus explained. Nadeem was always prepared for such an occasion. He could be a very persuasive man when he wanted to be, and sometimes without even uttering more than a word or two. Bribery worked wonders. "Abaas," Nadeem called over his shoulder, his dark eyes never leaving sight of the soldier's face. Abaas strolled over from his mount and nodded in understanding toward the leader. "Captain Barbattus would have words with you when he returns," Rufus informed, his voice a tad anxious as he eyed Nadeem's messenger dubiously. "A word he shall have. Tell your master to find me later. I will be at the tavern," Nadeem answered. Abaas apathetically took the slightly bewildered-looking Rufus by the elbow, leading him to the side to talk business. Nadeem cast a glance toward the others - Rajah, Asi, Oded - who waited in perfect patience for further instruction nearby. He signaled for Asi to come forth as he dis-mounted Jafar, handing the steed's reigns over to the shorter man who accepted them willingly. Nadeem trusted his men with his life, but when it came to the well-being of his horse, there was no other besides himself he trusted more than Asi. The man had an undeniable gift with animals. "For the time being - eat and relax, my friends," Nadeem told them. "And celebrate the grace of Allah, for He has not forsaken us this day." Not all of Nadeem's men were intimately religious, but nonetheless it did not keep them from believing. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 28 2010, 12:16 AM Post #123 |
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Author: golden_trillium Date: Fri Jun 13, 2008 7:57 am Merlin
"I am glad to hear it," Merlin replied sincerely, dropping his eyes from her momentarily as he stepped over a fallen log that stood between them and the path. Now they were right up alongside the marching column, but Merlin did not join them yet. He turned again to Ceinwnyn, regarding her with some concern. There was still that air of defeat about her, a dullness to her eyes, one that could be contagious if it spread. She mustn't start disseminating melancholy among the group at large. With the goal of preventing that, Merlin smiled at her and gave her shoulder and encouraging squeeze. The smile, perhaps, did not quite reach his eyes- he was too thoughtful now for that- but it was a reasonable approximation, perhaps enough to put a little heart into her. "We all will see vengeance someday, child- the Romans are not destined to stay in this land. As for Neeria and Eala, pray to the Gods for them, and we will see what comes about." A shadow momentarily crossed his mind at that- there was still the possibility that Neeria really was a traitor. But it was unlikely, and in any case, he trusted his rescue party to do what was necessary if she was. "Now let's go on and get to the village- we're not far." The Woad leader took a step towards the marching line, beckoning Ceinwyn to fall in with him. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 28 2010, 12:20 AM Post #124 |
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Author: Elessars Girl Date: Fri Jun 13, 2008 12:03 pm Arthur Arthur seemed to startle Eyla when he had spoken her name and halted her questing fingers beneath his tunic. Startle her as if he’d caught her stealing sweets from the baker’s kitchen or fresh fruit from the farmer in the marketplace when his back was turned. Eyla’s expression appeared to be one of complete pleasure as she leaned in even closer to the weary Commander. Arthur was weak and vulnerable in his current state, however not receptive to her womanly wiles. But despite how poorly Arthur felt, he was still perceptive….green eyes easily picked up on Eyla’s attempt at seduction (game or otherwise)…the soft upward curve of her full mouth, the dazzling want in her dark eyes and the inviting way her long hair fell about her shoulders and bosom. Old habits surely die hard for a woman who had been forced into such a life as the Commander so innocently thought to have saved Eyla from recently. However, Arthur was not one of her ‘customers’ former or present. Nor was he willing to participate in any of their typical wordplay at the moment.
She half whispered his name as if she were a lover and not simply the Commander’s chamber maid. And then Arthur felt Eyla’s fingertip trace random shapes over the bare flesh of his abdomen. On impulse the muscles beneath his skin flexed underneath her touch. But it was not Eyla’s ‘touch’ that Arthur wanted for. And she was toying with him. The Roman had not allowed Lancelot to objectify him and thus he would surely not allow anyone else to do it. Yet Arthur did not readily remove Eyla’s hand from his belly. Why? Had Eyla ever touched Lancelot in this manner? Was this what Lancelot had wanted? Or Darya for that matter? Too much thinking.
“I see,” Arthur answered without bothering to conceal his skepticism at her explanation. “How thoughtful of you, my dear,” He added dryly while cutting his eyes up at Eyla. She was still bent intimately close to Arthur’s face and a loop of her hair rested alluringly on his chest. But her seductive tactics were of little effect on Arthur; especially in his current condition. He slightly grimaced and slid his free hand to cover over the line of stitches in his side which had annoyingly begun to throb again. Lucius Artorius Castus loathed being wounded, weak and vulnerable.
Arthur snorted a short laugh at that and shook his head. She was surely taking this ‘game’ too far as the Commander could not imagine why Eyla would even consider touching him, let alone tease him so. Arthur was not the sort of man women typically paid attention to. He had none of Lancelot’s charms with the opposite sex and the fact that Eyla was forcing him to think about intimate relationships at all made Arthur’s head throb again. And if only she knew what a hypocrite he’d been…and how deep his sins of the flesh had run in recent times. God, help me. God, forgive me. “Come now, Eyla, surely you have no shortage of palatable suitors,” Arthur quipped and finally pushed her hand away from his stomach. “If you truly ‘care’ for me, then you will help me best by handing me that mug of water there,” Arthur gestured towards the cup and pitcher sitting on the table at his bedside. His throat was dry and his stomach rumbled again with its hunger. But Arthur would wait for Neeve’s promised soup as far as nourishment. Arthur groaned as he attempted to push himself up into a sitting position while he awaited Eyla to do his bidding. Bed rest was not a favorite activity of the Roman’s either. Arthur lifted a hand to scrub over his darkly stubbled face and for a moment tightly shut his eyes. His whole body seemed to suddenly ache. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 28 2010, 12:21 AM Post #125 |
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Author: Darya Date: Fri Jun 13, 2008 1:15 pm Neeve What time was it? Blue eyes snapped open and the woman blinked at the window. Well, it just had to be rather late in the day already… Neeve groaned loathly and brushed a hand over her face. She had intended to just take a brief nap…but apparently, she had been so exhausted that she had actually slept…for a while. Puffing out a breath, the healer sat up and raked both hands through her raven-hair. She should check on the infirmary…especially on Dagonet. But as much as she loved the knights as friends…it was Arthur, their Commander, who was her major concern. She had promised him to bring some food…,right? By the Gods, she was certainly late for that now… Damn. Neeve stood from her bed, moved over to the wash basin and splashed some water into her face to refresh her senses. Changing clothes? Hm…could as well wait some more hours…just like the bath she desperately wanted – and needed – to take. The Briton grabbed her old bag and stuffed some fresh bandages, herbs and salves into it…somehow she had the feeling she might need some of them. She just knew Arthur Castus too well… Then the healer left her room…and a bit later the building that held the knights quarters…heading for the tavern… …which she reached rather soon. From the corner of her eyes, the healer noticed Darya and a rather strange looking man walking away from the building, but she did not pay any more attention to them. Once she had entered the tavern, the raven-haired woman scanned the room. There were a few familiar faces…and fortunately also that of Vanora. Willing a smile to her lips, Neeve approached the counter and sought Vanora’s gaze…hoping Bors' woman would notice her as well… |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 28 2010, 12:26 AM Post #126 |
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Author: Pinkie Date: Fri Jun 13, 2008 3:44 pm Galahad Was it that he put too much emphasis on being in a relationship based on fidelity? Perhaps that was a fatal flaw in this age of loose morals, easy deaths and careless words. Galahad wasn't able to analyse such things right now, however. His mind was somewhat addled by the increasing volume of alcohol in his blood. It was a pleasant feeling, the numbing of the pain. It was pleasant and most welcome. The young Knight took a sip of his ale, looking down into the rather misty colored yellow liquid, tilting the tankard this way and that, looking at his shimmering reflection as Gawain spoke.
The curly haired knight snorted at Gawain's comment about fucking being great. He gave an abashed nod of his head, sighing as he sat back, shoulders slumped and bottom lip pouting outwards gently. He still looked down with sad blue eyes at his drink however, feeling sorry for himself and also feeling a twinge of guilt for turning Gawain's confession about Brianna into a sob session for himself. Oh Galahad was human enough to realise that he had done that! "Crazy.." he murmured, uncomfortable to be talking about things related to the heart with Gawain. Or anyone for that matter. Weren't Knights meant to be grr adn tough all the time? Talking about heart and saying that love mattered more than sex just ... well, it is not a conversation one wuold have with Lancelot that is for certain. And Galahad, despite his claims, did look up to the dark knight quite a bit. Him and Gawain.
The young Sarmatian didn't bother reacting in body or mind to Gawain ordering food. He wasn't hungry. He didn't want food. He wanted more of what was taking away the pain and embarrassment. The blonde knight spoke again and Galahad glanced up at him pathetically from beneath a curl that hung down the centre of his forehead, his intense blue eyes and dark beard looking more contrasted against his pale skin. It was a surprise to hear Gawain admit he wasn't going to go after Brianna. Galahad gave a slight flinch and took another gulp of ale as the blonde continued about how often, or little rather, that he thought about Brianna whilst on the mission. The question took him off-guard. he hadn't been keeping count. "I ... I don't know. A couple of times? I was worried about her being on her own after Accolan... ya know..?" Galahad said in a slightly whiney voice before sitting forward and plopping his elbows onto the table, holding his cheeks in his hands and staring down at the table top. "Guess I didn't have to worry that much did I? She found someone bloody quickly enough. And do you know who it is?" he slurred indignantly in a high-pitched voice, the volume rising and his eyebrows twitching together in the middle of his furrowed brow. "It's that that that that ... " his hand waved and he knocked over his tankard, catching it before anything spilled. He was looking at Gawain but wasn't really 'seeing' him as such, "It's that rough n' ready oul fella! Kolya or whatever his name is. You know the grizzly guy that was in here a few times? " Galahad asked, shoulders sinking. "What's he got that I don't huh? Besides his fucking freedom. Fuck Rome." he murmured, downing the rest of his ale and signalling, yet again, for two more tankards just as the two bowls of stew arrived. Mari Mari didn't want to be hurt again like she was at the hands of Mordred. A little part of her mind knew that being with a man did not have to hurt the way it had with that particular male, a part of her mind knew that Milan's touch would burn her but for all the right reasons - but an even bigger part of her mind did not want to consider the fact that it was entirely possible that two men could hurt her the way Mordred had done. That it was not just that one male who was capable of such things. The first, feather light touch of his hand on her shoulder made Mari shiver. She trembled beneath the heavier touch and she held her breath. There was no harm in Milan's touch, Mari sensed no intent to hurt at all. Had she thought the same about Mordred when he had taken her elbow and led her into the darkness? Had there been malice in his touch? The young woman kept her breathing slow, shallow, waiting, pensive as Milan came closer. The warmth of his body seemed to swell around her, touching her though his physical body stayed a distance away. His face came down to shoulder height. Mari shut her dark eyes and turned her head towards his face, nudging her nose against his temple softly.
The softest laugh bubbled from her lips. Mari parted her lips, letting out the pent breath and gently nodded her head. Her eyes opened and she looked at Milan so close to her, peering into the blue of his eyes, lifting one hand up to touch his hand upon her shoudler. She wasn't sure what exactly Milan meant by that but she knew that, if anyone in this world was to 'keep' her, she wanted it to be Milan. Mari turned, tucking her hands in under Milan's arms and laying her head against his chest a moment, listening to his heart. "I don't think you need to ask, Milan. Sometime between one week ago and now I became yours. And I don't have any desire to change that." she told him, resting her chin in the centre of his chest, looking up at him. Sniffling back the sadness that had been lurking a moment before, Mari felt her heart flutter, coming back to a normal beat now that she was no longer afraid and she smiled up at Milan. His pale face was so close. His hard body so reassuring crushed against hers. Mari stood on tippy toes and kissed his lips gently. She withdrew and smiled at him - then kissed him again, deeper this time, her fingers tightening around the towel at her chest, holding it tight as she tried to get closer to Milan. Saoirse
His large hand slid about her waist. Saoirse felt reassured by his touch but a surge of guilt almost weakened her knees to liquid when he spoke. Her blue eyes looked down into his grey-green ones and she nodded her head, giving him a soft smile of apology until he looked away. Her face dropped and her stomach flipped, remaining in a painful flipped position as the guilt bullied it's way through her system, leaving bruises in it's wake, all along her insides. He hadn't meant it to make her feel guilty, oh she knew that! But knowing that he, he who had so much more on his mind than her whereabouts, had been caused more worry because she had been too bloody weak to be there for him ... !
Saoirse bit the insides of her cheeks as she looked towards Derfel. He looked at her with concerned eyes and she shook her head at his offer, her lips parting. She wnted to speak but there was emotions caught up in her throat and she ended up just whispering a thank you to him before dipping her head embarrassed. she cleared her throat, frowning as she looked down at Dagonet's hand on her hip. What she wouldn't give to be in the privacy of their own room right now! Just so she could let herself be more like herself, so she could just ... just ... "No, no need nothin' Derfel, thanks though. G'wan on an' get yerselves somethin' t'eat before it gets old." she told the two men in a voice that was a little husky with emotions but she plastered a smile to her face and lifted her pale visage to meet the eyes of the two men. A little blonde girl appeared on the scene which made Saoirse's stomach churn. The sight of such a small child reminded her all too well fo what she had taken away from Dagonet. Drake Drake didn't make it his habit to verbally abuse his superiors. He respected authority and he respected money too, people with money and status. Not because he reverred money, oh far from it, he respected people with money because they got that money for some reason or other - be that family ties or shrewd of mind, and that was not the kind of thing a mere soldier like Drake would want to tackle. What he could not abide, however, was stupidity. He couldn't abide by those in charge not thinking things through. And quite frankly, Drake didn't like anyone screwing Linnette over. The Optio had surely realised that he was kicking her out into an uncertain abode and he had done nothing to prepare her for it. The man was a failure.
It took a moment for Drake to realise why Linnette apologised. He had felt his heart give a heavy, dull, black thud at the look of utter bewilderment at how she was to find someone to bunk in with. It was on the tip of his tongue to offer to be that person but immediately the Spaniard bit his tongue, turned his head down to frown at his stew which he was stirring with his spoon. He scooped up a mouthful and swallowed it before replying to the woman. "Nothing to be damn sorry about." he told her gruffly, cocking his head to the side to peer at her before shrugging his large shoulders adn heaving out a breath. "Look - don't worry too much about it right now. I'm not going to let them kick you out of anywhere until something has been arranged." Drake informed the auburn haired woman in a tone that he hoped was impartial and lacking in any real emotion other than sincerity. And with that the soldier lifted his bowl and tipped the remaining contents of it into his mouth, chewing the one bit of meat hthat he had gotten in it, his expression pensive but strong. "Ok?" he asked in a gentler tone of voice, tilting his head to the side again to look at her. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 28 2010, 12:27 AM Post #127 |
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Author: lady ione Date: Fri Jun 13, 2008 4:16 pm Adian "Thank you, my friend," Adian said to the smithy. He watched Llawen curl up by the fire and fall asleep obviously contented. Adian was feeling less than contented as he realized that he had not had a really good bath since he could not recall when...he couldn't see how Tatiana could stand the smell of him. Women liked clean men, so a bath was definitly in order.... Turning to Tatiana who was seated nearby on a bench, Adian approached her. "Well, I think I'll be needing a bath now. It'd be refreshing and I need one anyway...." His gray eyes sparkled black in the dim light of the smithy's shop as he looked down at her. Taking off his cloak, he placed it around her shoulders so she could stay warm. Yes, she already had a cloak on, but an extra would keep her warmer. "What'dya say, Tatiana? Come with me to the baths?" |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 28 2010, 12:28 AM Post #128 |
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Author: Lancelot Date: Fri Jun 13, 2008 5:44 pm Lancelot Lancelot's eyebrows rose and he twisted his mouth at the sight of the Christian nun - one of Arthur's imports, no doubt. Otherwise, why would she be here, at Badon? There weren't many of Arthur's faith here - especially women. Well, check that; there were some, but they were Christian only in word. The fucking legions were a prime example of that hypocritical behavior.
Lancelot smiled. This one had spunk! He liked that in his annoying Christian women. "My sweet lady," he pursed his lips and turned on the charm - despite looking like a drowned rat and feeling like so much ass, he ever enjoyed a game of verbal sparring. Perhaps it would help get Arthur out of his damn mind. "My lady, I am not just a wet Sarmatian. I am the wet Sarmatian. I am Lancelot, and I must see to my brother in arms, Dagonet. I would be sore remiss in shirking my responsibilities in that regard, would I not?" He smiled, although it did not reach his eyes - they remained black and dangerous. He shook his jacket and squeezed his hair again with one hand. It seemed to be mostly just damp. Fucking Britain. Fucking weather. Fucking Arthur and his fucking feelings and fucking Lancelot and his own confusion. His smile faded somewhat, and throwing the spare leathers over his shoulder, he held out the hand that wasn't holding his blades in their sheath palm up. "Peace, sister. I come from Commander Castus, and I must see to my friend, no matter whom else has come to him." He craned his neck to see past the nun, and thought he recognized Derfel and the redhead - Saoirse, that was her name. Fucking Derfel. Lovely. "Let me pass, woman." |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 28 2010, 12:29 AM Post #129 |
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Author: Starbelle Date: Fri Jun 13, 2008 7:31 pm Tatiana As Llawen curled up with his tail covering his nose and fell asleep, slightly purring in contentment of his warm surroundings, she watched the grey cat sleep in comfort as opposed to before when the poor thing was soaked due to the rain. Yes, entering the smithy was definetly a good idea I had. Feeling another cloak being placed on top of the one that she already wore, Tatiana looked up to see Adian standing next to her bench without his cloak on, his heather grey eyes almost a coal black in color sparkling from either the fire in the smithy or mischief, she wasn't sure but really didn't care at that moment.
Tilting her head to the side, she looked up at him through her lowered lashes, shyly hiding her emerald green eyes when she heard his invitation. "Sure, sounds like a plan to me, Adian. Yes, definetly a good idea, maybe I'll do your back, if you'd like?" She replied nodding, a smile appearing on her face in agreement with his suggestion as she stood up from the bench and tieing the laces of his cloak around her throat to keep it secure. While she was with Adian, her heart and thoughts brought Brendyn and their time together to mind, causing her emerald eyes to take on a thoughtful faraway look as she did so. I wonder what Bren's doing now? I hope that he's okay wherever he's at. I can't wait to see him again, soon, I hope. Maybe Adian and I should just be and remain friends and not take it any further than that as I've already got someone that I care about and Adian's still getting over the loss of his Thorn. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 28 2010, 12:31 AM Post #130 |
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Author: golden_trillium Date: Fri Jun 13, 2008 8:55 pm Linnette and Linnesse
Through her embarrassment, Linnette recognized the studied, but casual use of the same word she had just used. Her eyes widened in surprise, but her hand came down, away from her face, and she looked over at Drake out of the corners of her eyes. Their eyes met like that, sideways, for a second, and she giggled helplessly. The situation wasn't really funny, but it struck her that way somehow- and it put her at ease. He didn't care. He wasn't even surprised. Linnette had surprised herself- but apparently not surprised him. She forced her face out of that silly, embarrassed laugh and composed it, but in a somewhat better frame of mind, as Drake continued.
"Ok." Linnette agreed with him, nodding, as their gazes locked again. Something in his look- the very kindness of it, maybe- made Linnette feel choked up again, once more on the verge of tears, but she didn't look away- she had no wish to. She nodded again and made a soft affirmative sound, a lump forming in her throat. She believed what he said- completely. She trusted him implicitly. She wouldn't be turned out with no place to stay- he wouldn't let it happen. That was certain. Harder to explain was why the knowledge of that, the gentle, trustworthy strength that radiated from him, made her want to cry. Perhaps it just reminded her of things past and gone. She took a breath, one that caught in her throat as a tear threatened to spill over her eyelashes, and lifted her hand from her lap. It was the bandaged one, but it was the one closer to the side where Drake was sitting. It slid across the countertop towards his hand, moving instinctively towards contact and comfort, while all the while she never took her sad eyes off him- but it never got there. A voice reached her ears instead. "Linnette!" Linnette pulled her hand back and twisted on the stool at the sound of the familiar voice. It was Linnesse, coming across the tavern towards them, wrapped in a cloak and looking windblown and still rather pale, but otherwise, all right. Better, in fact, than she had looked this morning. Linnette's mouth began to turn up into a smile of greeting, but by then Linnesse was close enough to see the tears sparkling in her eyes, and to know that she must have come at a sad moment. "Oh, Linnette," Linnesse murmurred, and stepping forward, embraced her sister without another word. Linnette, her chin resting on her sister's shoulder, sobbed once, but already the tension across her chest and throat was starting to drain away with the warmth of contact and affection. Linnette blinked her eyes open again- she must have closed them for a moment- and smiled at Drake over Linnesse's shoulder. It was a brave, tender smile, with sadness still lingering around the corners of her mouth- but mostly it was appreciative and encouraging, or intended to be. She was glad to have him here- glad from the bottom of her heart. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 28 2010, 12:32 AM Post #131 |
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Author: linnet Date: Fri Jun 13, 2008 9:20 pm Gawain
It was pathetic to watch. Not only was Galahad wallowing in self pity, but he was becoming rip-roaring drunk on only two rounds of ale. He’d be teased mercilessly by the other knights if they saw such a rookie-like inability to hold his alcohol. Gawain lurched forward to grab the upended tankard, but Galahad’s reflexes were still quick enough, barely, to stop it from spilling first. The blonde knight frowned when his friend identified his rival. The impression he’d gotten of Kolya from a few observations was of a miserable aimless man, bitter and used up. Gawain now had second thoughts about his advice for Galahad to confront the man and forcibly give him notice to stay away from Alina. Not that Galahad couldn’t take care of himself. But a showdown between one hardened Sarmatian survivor with nothing to lose, and one hot-headed Sarmatian knight with everything to prove, could turn out very badly.
Gawain shook his head in mild frustration. Rome didn’t have anything to do with Galahad’s current problem. But for the youngest of them, everything wrong always came down to being Rome’s fault. There was no use arguing the point now. In fact, there was no use trying to make Galahad feel better, or to give him any more advice, which he wouldn’t remember anyway, and which would probably only be the wrong advice. So Gawain just settled back to let Galahad vent. The food was served, two steaming bowls of stew with bread. As Gawain was handing his coins to the serving girl, Galahad ordered another round of ale. Gawain raised his eyebrows and almost told the girl not to bring the drinks. But his own second one was almost gone, and another to wash down the food would be good. Damned if he’d pay for this round though. “Eat,” he commanded Galahad, as the older knight dug readily into his own bowl of food. He hadn’t realized just how hungry he was for something warm and substantial. “Listen,” Gawain said, looking up from his bowl, taking a short breather between mouthfuls. He tried to make contact with his friend’s glazed, unfocused eyes. “Whatever you decide to do about Alina, make sure you’re sober when you do it.” That was it. End of advice – maybe. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 28 2010, 12:34 AM Post #132 |
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Author: lady ione Date: Fri Jun 13, 2008 9:40 pm Vanora She had been so busy, first with the whole deal with Adian, Tatiana and Mirtha, then poor Linnette, and now she was back to pouring Ales at the counter. She really didn't mind as it gave her time to think.... Think of how fortunate she was that the children and Bors were always safe from harm...except for an occasional battle wound he'd come home with. Well, to her there had been a lot of customers in the tavern, and some she had never seen before...like the fellow walking out of the tavern with Darya. Never seen the man before, and was her normal routine, Vanora would welcome any of visitor to the fort. Now, the lunch rush was dying out and it was almost mid afternoon there abouts. Turning to pour 4 mugs of ale, Vanora turned again to hand the filled mugs to the waiting wench when she saw Neeve. Hadn't seen Neeve in a while, and Vanora had wondered if the woman had been alright. Brown eyes watched as the blue eyed woman approached the counter, and Vanora greeted her with a tired but warm smile, "Neeve, what can I get you today? Haven't seen you in a while...." |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 28 2010, 12:37 AM Post #133 |
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Author: sabor ice Date: Fri Jun 13, 2008 11:58 pm Mordred He looked on apathetically, arching a fine brow only as he observed the absurd scene before him. The Woad flailed around in an ungainly manner atop Tristan's horse. The scout seemed to lack the capability of controlling the wench, and he and the commander bantered back and forth like an old married couple trying to figure out how to handle the situation. Had the Woad been Mordred's responsibility, he'd have hog-tied, gagged, and slapped her over his saddle in an unflattering manner. No savage such as she should've ever been granted the luxury of riding civilly in the saddle - even if she was their guide. He snorted appreciatively at the Optio's order to tie up the bitch should she cause anymore trouble, twisting Lucifer's reigns about his gloved fist and imperiously pivoting his steed, directing him toward the courtyards. Once they were clear of the main gate, Mordred harshly drove Lucifer onward, easily falling into pace with Amadeus. The rain had tampered off, but the wind continued to whip viciously. The hood of his cloak flew back, his dark hair disheveling into a soppy mess, as the scenery flashed by him. The knight understood the look Amadeus had given him, and he could not suppress a smug grin, his dark eyes eager. Yes, this was their time.
Mordred jerked his head suggestively behind him where the others rode, giving the Optio a meaningful look before hanging back, falling into stride along Tristan's beast - Malcus on the other side of the scout. The transition had appeared natural, not conspicuously suspicious. Mordred had good reason to pretend to play both sides of the fence. If Arthur's men found him completely untrustworthy, then how would he ever hope to get closer to his brother? If the Optio perished on this mission because certain loyalists to Arthur had decided to cause him an 'accident,' then how would Mordred aspire to use the man for his influence and power? These were risks the dark knight was not willing to take lightly. Mordred gave an auspicious grin toward his Tristan, his 'brother-in-arms,' but his reply was directed toward Malcus' inquiry. "Toward impending doom, my friend. Is that not always the case when these sub-human creatures are involved? They speak in riddles, as you've heard," Mordred shouted over the speed and wind. He chuckled darkly, briefly watching the inferior wretch in Tristan's saddle from the corner of his eye. He added nonchalantly: "Perhaps she simply needs to be persuaded into telling the truth, hm?" Alina It was an odd thing to admit, especially during such dark times, but Alina had lived a far too sheltered life. In the past, she had always had someone to turn to, someone to tell her the answers to life's mysteries. She had relied on Tobias for his strength, Quinlan for his wisdom, and Accolan for his emotional support. Without them she was so lost, a piece of thread flailing in the wind. Growing up, nobody told her that fairy tales never lasted. Nobody told her that everybody dies, even fathers and brothers and cousins. She wanted to blame them, to hate them for never letting her taste brutal reality, for keeping her suffocatingly protected from the harsh truths and lies in life. If she had known how to stand on her own two feet from the very beginning, then perhaps she would now know what to do. She'd be in control. Wouldn't she? Hopeless. Useless. The attempt at spite only fueled regret. Her cheeks burned in shame. Her family had loved her, that was all. None of this was their fault, only hers. She had to deal with it. Just her. Alina sucked in a deep breath as she pushed open the door to the tavern, releasing it slowly, as she entered and her brown gaze scanned the place. Galahad was at a table with another man - she could only see his backside, but she was sure it was Gawain. There was a certain element of sudden hesitancy behind her eyes, and she habitually chewed at the inside of her cheek. A lump formed in her throat; for a few moments she just watched her lover - one of her lovers? - from afar. Finally, after rousing up some courage, Alina weaved through the tavern. She came to stand beside Gawain and Galahad's table, managing a tiny acknowledging smile toward the older knight, but inevitably her attention was drawn toward Galahad. She was too distracted to yet notice the poorly state he was in. "Hi there," she said, managing another small smile. Milan
His destiny had been prophesied long ago, and fear and wild superstitions had solidified his obedience to the cause. To challenge the cause meant to challenge the brotherhood - his people - and in retrospect, the demon God himself. Milan had never meant to forsake the teachings like an old book - for they were all he had ever known - but Milan simply was no killer. Somewhere along the way of knowing Mari, Milan had made a decision. He would not go through with his mission. He would not harm an innocent human being. He'd rather die first - and regrettably, he truly believed death to be the only other option for his betrayal. Something changed, and he was rushed back to attention. Mari turned to face him, and as he peered down into her pretty face. She was his? He scrambled to recall what he had just said to her, the slight confusion evident in his blue eyes. He watched her curiously as she pressed her chin into his chest and peered up at him. Somewhere deep down inside, Milan understood what this meant, where they stood, and involuntarily he shivered in enticement. There was something about the way she looked at him with her vibrant brown eyes that made his heart lump up into his throat. His air supply had sudden been denied, but in a good way. He rested his forehead against hers a moment. His eyes unconsciously dropped to the sweet curve of her lips, but she beat him to the punch, gently pressing her mouth to his. The kiss ended abruptly and she withdrew, smiling. A crooked smile began to creep onto his face, when suddenly she crushed herself against him again, pleasantly smothering it with her deep kiss. This kiss was different than other ones - Milan found himself lost in the momentum. His arms snaked around her waist, plastering her to him and lifting her off the floor. He only began to come aware of the sudden insatiable wantonness between them when he was forced to withdraw to catch his breath. His blue eyes were wide and searching, even a tad apprehensive - as if he knew he had possibly crossed a line. Slowly Milan placed Mari back onto the flats of her feet, his hands dropping to steady her at her waist. After a moment, Milan took a step backward and chuckled unabashedly, his arms falling to his sides. He dipped his head shyly as he felt a sudden burn in his cheeks. He subtly watched Mari from underneath dark eyelashes, though, strangely eager to gauge her reaction. |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 28 2010, 12:52 AM Post #134 |
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Author: Darya Date: Sat Jun 14, 2008 2:21 am Neeve While waiting for Vanora to notice her, Neeve heard the door to the tavern being opened again. She glanced over her shoulder and saw Linnesse entering…and a moment later, Alina… And while Alina approached Galahad and Gawain – if strangely hesitant it seemed – Linnesse headed for…her sister and the nameless soldier, who wasn’t that nameless anymore. Drake it was, as she knew by now… Then Vanora’s familiar voice reached her ears and Neeve’s head whipped around as the redhead stood before her…
What can I get you today…? Now that was tempting. The healer couldn’t remember the last time she had eaten properly. But should she do so right now? She was late for checking on Arthur already… But then…maybe something small…just until the soup was ready. The soup she had promised the Commander. Sighing, the Briton propped her forearms onto the counter and leaned slightly on them. “Well, what have you got?”, she then asked with a wry smile and glanced questioningly at Vanora, “…considering that I’m a bit late for an appointment…” Neeve shook her head slightly and breathed a laugh. “The Woad attacks have the infirmary pretty busy, you know…”, she added and shrugged her shoulders. The raven-haired paused. “But maybe I can grant myself a morsel or two…while waiting for something else to get ready. You see, I’m basically here to fetch a good soup and some bread for someone else…”, she then stated and tilted her head a little, “so what can you recommend?” |
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| golden_trillium | Mar 28 2010, 12:53 AM Post #135 |
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Author: lady ione Date: Sat Jun 14, 2008 9:09 am Vanora The red head had addressed Neeve who had been watching others enter the tavern, and Vanora followed the young woman's gaze. She was glad to see Linnesse enter as well as Alina and others, but for now her attention was on the healer who she had not seen in quite a spell. As Neeve leaned on her folded arms that she had propped on the counter, Vanora smiled and waited for her to reply...
Vanora looked at Neeve thoughtfully while mentally going through the foods she had to offer. Food was not very plentiful right now, but she had enough to feed everyone comfortably. Soups and stews stretched quite a bit and bread as well. Adian had not been hunting in quite a while, and Vanora wondered when the young man would ever get back into hunting....it helped out immensely. "Well, cook made some stew and some fresh grain bread...got some cheese as well. Food got a bit tight after the first woad attack destroyed some of the storage bins of grain..." Vanora paused. She wondered if Adian's kindness should still remaina secret, but then the young man had been so helpful that his kindness had to be told. "Adian, young carpenter that works here, well cook caught him sneaking in some fresh kill into the kitchen as though he did not want others to know what he had done....he told me that he felt he had to because of the shortage so that Women and children could eat." She wiped her hands in her apron when she heard of the infirmary, and it brought back memories of Thorn's death...something she, Mirtha and Ione had witnessed. "Too bad about the infirmary, dear...hope things will get back together soon. Adian's wife to be, Thorn, died trying to save a very young boy from dying at a woad's hand during that attack... aww poop, I just seem to be babbling on when you have patients to see to. I think all we have is a good hearty soup and some grain bread and some cheese...." Vanora felt bad about talking so much, but she hoped that Neeve would know where they had taken Thorn so she could tell Adian where his beloved's body had been taken to.... |
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