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July 2008
Topic Started: Apr 3 2010, 09:33 PM (2,356 Views)
golden_trillium

Admin
Author: lady ione
Date: Mon Jul 28, 2008 8:40 pm
Adian


What the hell am I doing anyway? I have just proposed to a
woman I hardly know, and have almost promised her the
world....as though Thorn had never existed. How could I do
that to her? Adian's mind became Fogged with
thoughts...notions rather...a feeling that he was leading
Tatiana on which was unfair to her. He had done the same to
Fiona. Was it because he had loved Thorn so completely, and so
faithfully that he wanted to find another to take her place?
Under Tatiana's touches and kiss, Adian felt himself
shiver....A betrayal of the heart he had promised to his love.

He moaned Tatiana's name, and he heard her respond...

Tatiana
 
"Yes, Adian?"


...felt her shiver in response as he feasted on her skin. The
way her head tipped back to allow him more. He took more
greedily as her eyes closed. Tatiana shifted her body to get
closer, softly gasping. Damn it all! What kind of jerk am I?!
I'd rather kill myself then take advantage of her though she
is willing... Adian completed his kiss, and stepped back from
her. She was too sweet to just take advantage of which was
exactly what he was doing. With soft dark heather gray eyes,
Adian placed his hands on her shoulders, pushed back a few
strands of copper colored hair, then looked down and sadly
turned away. The young man's arms went around his lean
athletic body, and refused to look at her. With a heavy sigh,
Adian raised his head as if searching for answers on the
ceiling of the room, "I am such a heel, Tatiana....I..." He
turned to her, "I want to marry you, but...this was moving too
fast and I am sorry...Thorn is barely gone and here I am
promising my heart to another...." Looking over at the sword
near the wall, Adian tried to think of a way to make Tatiana
understand what he was feeling right now.

"I want to marry you, but first I have to do a period of
grieving for my lost love...Thorn meant the world to me, and I
feel that I owe her some time of respect..." His eyes went
back to hers. "I want to wait until I know you better....I
just...I would not have felt right taking advantage of you,"
An honest light shone in his eyes which sorrow had clouded
over again. He could feel Thorn's presence in the room, and it
gave him comfort. Okay so he was babbling, and there were
other things to get done before night fell...

First was to find a make shift grave site, someplace Thorn
would have loved and set up a monument to her....

Her sword. He had noticed other swords in the field: men who
had died in battle, so why should she not be honored like that
as well?
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: Kay
Date: Tue Jul 29, 2008 1:52 am
Guinevere


The crazed girl was now making bizarre movements with her hand
and then she grabbed Juna by the ankle.

Mona
 
"You brought them to kill me! You crone, you brought
these creatures. You did this to keep me from Merlin.
But it won't work!"


Guinevere moved around a little so that Mona was hidden from
the view of the others by the princess' body.

"We have to do something to shut her up" Guinevere said to
Juna. "If our enemies see her madness, it will look bad for my
father. Do you have a sleeping draught to knock her out?"
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: Pinkie
Date: Tue Jul 29, 2008 1:15 pm
Amadeus


Merlin
 
“I think all of us may stand down, as it were, There
seems no need for us to talk until you decide who is
empowered to do so. And since that may take a while… in
the meantime, you will remove yourselves from our land.”


Malcus
 
"Very well, optio, Merlin, of course the optio is in
charge. But clearly we are outnumbered and I would be
remiss not ensure the optio's safety while here in the
hut. The optio is far too modest about his importance to
this mission."


Merlin
 
"There is no need to worry about safety so long as you
go. Now. I permit you safe passage back to your stone
walls- though if you linger, you will find it otherwise.
I have nothing further to say to either of you."


Amadeus knew that it was a lost cause once Merlin spoke the
first time. He glowered bitterly as Barbattus flogged a dying
horse by stepping forward after the magician, thinking he
might be able to back track pathetically now. The damage,
however, Amadeus knew, had been done. He knew that if the
roles were reversed he would have done precisely that which
Merlin had just done now. He would not treat with an
incompetent imbecile which is precisely what Barbattus had
made them all appear to be. His grey eyes were flinty as he
looked at Merlin, taking in that sliver of a smile and knowing
the threat that lurked behind it.

Tensing his angular jaw, the Optio stalked forward around
Barbattus, willing to leave the man there, more than happy to
leave him there. He did not speak a word as he walked right in
front of Merlin, grey eyes fixed on his horse. He clicked his
tongue and threw himself into the saddle with a hiss of pain
as the old scar on his thigh gave a protesting twinge. Amadeus
grabbed the reins and turned his horse abruptly, clicking his
tongue as he urged his horse onwards, not ordering his men to
follow simply because he would be more than happy for the
woads to put a hole in them all.
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: TwistOfShadows
Date: Tue Jul 29, 2008 2:39 pm
Ceinwyn and Nolan


Merlin
 
”I think all of us may stand down, as it were, There
seems no need for us to talk until you decide who is
empowered to do so. And since that may take a while… in
the meantime, you will remove yourselves from our land.”


Malcus
 
"Very well, optio, Merlin, of course the optio is in
charge. But clearly we are outnumbered and I would be
remiss not ensure the optio's safety while here in the
hut. The optio is far too modest about his importance to
this mission.”


Merlin
 
"There is no need to worry about safety so long as you
go. Now. I permit you safe passage back to your stone
walls- though if you linger, you will find it otherwise.
I have nothing further to say to either of you.”


Nolan watched the patience ebb from Merlin. The Woads had
allowed the Optio and his minions a moment’s peace to talk,
negotiate, and what had they achieved? Nothing. They could
barely negotiate amongst themselves, and that made them weak.
Where was the famous rigidity of the Roman hierarchy? Nolan
sneered as the Optio and Barbattus threw insults at each
other, and raised his eyebrows in mock surprise. In truth, he
had expected them to be clever, to be sly and attempt
manipulation. The military leader had witnessed Artorius in
battle, and that commander was not lightly underestimated.
Arthur commanded with mere presence, and this coward Optio had
much to learn. There was a deep set respect for Arthur. His
mother was a Briton, he had British blood in his veins and it
made him strong. But this Optio? He had hidden within the hut
like a limp and frightened dog. Nolan could not respect
cowardice. He killed cowards, and Rome was cowardice. As they
left the hut, Nolan glanced momentarily at Merlin. He
recognized the power of that thin smile, an age old mockery
that did not die…

The Optio jumped onto his horse. He did not attempt argument,
and Nolan was not surprised. They appeared fools, all of them,
and now they were held at arrow point. The Roman did not even
order his men to follow. Ah, injured pride perhaps? Arthur
would surely not send this fool again to do his bidding…

Turning slowly to Merlin, Nolan’s jaw was hard. His green eyes
looked distant, unaffected, and he spoke roughly. “Rome grows
more pathetic every day. The gods must surely laugh at
their…talents for negotiation…” The Woad looked to the
remaining Romans around them, to Tristan, and drummed his
fingers against the leather of his dagger hilt.

“…And yet the slaves still obey them.” Ceinwyn’s voice was
cold from the side, and her green eyes focused upon Tristan,
the scout. She did not care if he paid her heed, she did not
care for his reaction. Not truly. She spoke harshly, and her
tongue spat each syllable with vehemence. The red-haired Woad
growled. She had not heard their conversation within the hut,
but her hatred for Sarmatians had never weakened. Her fingers
trembled at her side, and she turned to walk closer to Nolan,
standing beside him.









Eyla

Eyla did not like the infirmary. It had a rotten smell about
it, with an unsubtle hint of herb and tonic. The harlot was
born lowly, but she had very high standards. The room was not
pretty enough. How could injured men be cured and comforted
here? It seemed absolute folly. Indeed, she came to acquire
herbs to halt her seasoning, but she did not like the task.
The nuns and healers knew her career, and they did not agree
that a woman should be taking the power of God into her own
hands. But she did. Eyla did not fancy pregnancy, nor growing
fat. She had money to earn, a reputation to uphold. Bearing
children would rudely interrupt both tasks, and so the woman
brazenly entered the infirmary. Her soft skirts whispered
around her ankles, and her golden skin was shadowed by the
dull light inside. The woman looked ahead, confidently and
almost challenging anyone to send her away. Eyla had endured
awkward conversations with the healers on numerous occasions,
and indeed, she must argue her case. Most ardently. Would she
be expected to appear humble to God’s word and will? The woman
pouted coltishly. God should reward her for making his sons
happy…not condemn the perfect swell of her feminine bosom.

Lancelot
 
”Eyla,”


Oh, she knew that voice. She recognized the masculine drawl.
Rough…with a generous helping of charm. Eyla looked up ahead,
and was not disappointed. The famous First Knight, and
reputable lover of all the virgins in the fortress…Lancelot.
Eyla smiled when she saw him, and it was a pretty smile. Her
dark eyes glittered up at him…and then she noticed it. He had
one eye. Gods, but the other was sealed shut with a hideous
and black bruise. Eyla did not hide her surprise; she halted
sharply in her steps and wrinkled her nose at him. Lancelot
had such a pretty face, why must he mark it so? The harlot was
bemused by the clumsiness…and carelessness…of men.

Lancelot
 
"My love, what brings you in here? Surely not retrieving
something for our injured commander?"


Gawain
 
“I’ll find Lavinia,”


Eyla stared blankly at the bruise on Lancelot’s face, barely
registering the shy smile that Gawain offered her. Eyla had
bedded Lancelot, many times, but Gawain? He could have been a
new challenge, he could be pursued. The woman glanced quickly
to Gawain, and she beamed a flirtatious smile at him. Her eyes
wondered down his tall and handsome figure…before turning back
to Lancelot. To the bruise. It was bloody horrible, and she
wrinkled her nose again, before shaking her head in dismay.
The woman stood small before him, and she…dragged her eyes
away from the injury. She blinked lazily up at him, her long
eyelashes brushing her cheekbones suggestively. Reaching one
hand into her hair, she curled a long tendril around one
finger…and pulled it taut over her exposed bosom. ’Something
for our injured commander?’ It was the first time Eyla had
ever heard consideration in Lancelot’s voice, concern for
another…and it was amusing. Eyla laughed sweetly, and then
pouted her lips.

“My darling Lancelot, I do believe you are prying into
another’s business. How very naughty of you…” Eyla spun the
words like honey, and a teasing smile played upon her mouth.
She smirked up at him, and twisted her hair around her finger.
Toying, playing. She spoke again. “Come now, you know my
nature. Everything will always cost you, information included,
and your currency is always so sweet…” The woman suggested,
she flirted. Would he take the bait? She reached a hand
forward, and laid it gently against his chest. Her small
fingers curled into the tunic, but it was not demanding. Not
truly…
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: linnet
Date: Tue Jul 29, 2008 5:13 pm

Juna


Mona
 
"You brought them to kill me! You crone, you brought
these creatures. You did this to keep me from Merlin.
But it won't work! You....you...,"


Juna was stopped in her tracks, literally, as she began to
walk toward the hut where Merlin, Nolan, and the men from the
fort were doing who knew what. The lunatic woman, who she had
just finished trying to keep alive, grabbed the healer’s ankle
and held it firmly. Juna’s forward momentum was stopped in
mid-step, and she staggered awkwardly to keep from falling
forward.

She gave a look of annoyance to Guinevere who had moved to
prevent others from seeing the scene being caused by the
lunatic. Juna set her jaw and narrowed her eyes, as she
reached down to pry Mona’s fingers from her ankle. “Let go,
damn it,” she cursed angrily, addressing the hand itself. The
crazed woman’s grip yielded only when Juna dug her fingernails
deep into each clenched finger and peeled the hand away. She
stood looking scornfully downward at the harpy. There was no
sense responding to the woman’s ranting words. Juna believed
Mona was far beyond comprehending. Although it was difficult
to hold back after being called a crone, and being
‘challenged?’ for Merlin. A hard slap would have been Juna’s
response of choice, were the woman in her right mind.

Guinevere
 
"We have to do something to shut her up. If our enemies
see her madness, it will look bad for my father. Do you
have a sleeping draught to knock her out?"


No, Juna shook her head at Guinevere’s words. The healer was
done with this case. “Knock her out however you like,” she
answered disgustedly. She moved farther away from the berserk
Woad, reached in her bag, and took out a small jar of liquid.
“This numbs the body and the mind. Give her however much you
want. It will either make her unconscious or kill her.” She
handed the potion to Guinevere and moved even farther away.

Juna couldn’t be bothered right now with a dying zombie.
Merlin was coming out of the hut, looking more regal and
imperious than ever, wearing a grin like a fox fresh out of
the henhouse. The Woad warriors responded as one to his signal
to aim at the Roman delegation. And the Roman leader was
mounting his horse. This was exciting, and she smiled slightly
in appreciation of the dramatic and Woad favoring scene. She
also cast a look toward Neeria to see how the traitor was
reacting to the turn of events.
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: Lancelot
Date: Tue Jul 29, 2008 7:07 pm
Lancelot


As Lancelot's one eye gazed admiringly at Eyla - oh yes, he'd
been there before - he heard Gawain grump past him.

Gawain
 
“I’ll find Lavinia,”


"Yes, you will," Lancelot murmured in reply, although not loud
enough for the knight to hear him. His attention was now on
Eyla - and aside from the pleasant view her countenance
provided, she might have some information Lancelot was
interested in.

He also noticed the harlot's up and down flirtatious look at
Gawain. Perhaps she'd never had the other man. Ah well, there
was time enough for that later. Lancelot was the one here now,
and he needed information that the very easily distracting
woman in front of him must have. After all, she was supposed
to be caring for Arthur's quarters - surely she'd seen the
man? Gawain could find the nun; Lancelot would get back over
to his little group just as soon as he'd finished here.

Eyla
 
“My darling Lancelot, I do believe you are prying into
another’s business. How very naughty of you…”


The first knight smiled elegantly, his teeth flashing in the
grime of his face. He shoved his hair back again, the curls
whorling around his head now that they were drying, and his
eyes...er, eye, followed the motion of Eyla's hand as she
toyed with a piece of hair against her bosom. He noted the
slight look of distaste on her pretty face as she stared at
his injury. The shiner was going to be spectular. Fucking
Galahad.

Eyla
 
“Come now, you know my nature. Everything will always
cost you, information included, and your currency is
always so sweet…”


Lancelot laughed, a deep rumble that echoed through his chest
when the woman grasped lightly at his tunic. He reached out
his own hand and took the curl that she'd been twirling into
his fingers, and pulled at it. Just a bit hard. Hard enough to
promise something that might come later. "I am the first
knight, and his second, no matter what that Optio might
believe. Surely you think I have a right to any information
you might have...dear?" He dropped the hair and traced a light
fingernail over the edge of her collarbone, and twisted his
mouth in a wry grin. "Come come, sweeting, let's have some
true gossip."

She knows something - and I'll be damned if I let this one
charm me out of information. Especially when I am her equal.

He dropped his hand and cocked a hip, looking at her as best
he could with the swollen eye not wanting to cooperate. He
knew he looked a mess, what with his leathers too big and the
rest of his clothing probably torn and dirty - fucking
Galahad! - but he still carried big swords and he was gods
damned Lancelot. And he'd had this one already. More than
once. And goodness, but she smelled....

like incense. Or lavender. Things that reminded Lancelot of
Arthur's quarters. He frowned without meaning to. "I haven't
seen you about in a while, lovely one. Whatever have you been
doing with yourself - surely caring for Arthur can't be that
exciting, especially now, him being so pitiably injured and
abed."

Tell me, Eyla. I may have a good reward planned for you if you
comply.

....maybe.

Lancelot licked his suddenly dry lips. There was no doubt the
harlot was gorgeous and he had certainly spent plenty of
pleasurable nights between her plump thighs. But...something
about his normal desire for her seemed...off. What in the
bloody fuck did that mean? Perhaps it was the injuries.
Perhaps he was just too tired.

Lancelot let a pathetic laugh escape, and rubbed his hand over
his face, hissing as he pressed on his bruised eye.
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: Elessars Girl
Date: Tue Jul 29, 2008 9:08 pm

Arthur


Silence filled the small space between them for a moment and
Darya shifted Arthur’s hand to rest his palm just above the
bodice line of her dress. Her skin felt as soft as fine
Persian silk as Arthur’s fingers slightly feathered over
Darya’s exposed flesh; that coupled with her familiar musky
earthen scent which readily permeated his nostrils nearly had
Arthur forgetting….

Darya
 
“There were way more Woads inside the Fortress this
time…Guinevere and Merlin were two of them… The old Woad
told me that the Gods have told him to break the truce
when I stood face to face with him…he stopped Guinevere
and me from doing more than just arguing when I
confronted her…however, I just have a small scratch on
my arm as direct reminder of the attack, no worries…”


….Arthur’s fingers flexed over his wound and on Darya’s skin
as he listened to her words; his troubled eyes briefly ticked
to her arm at the mention of a scratch there…..the ease the
Roman had allowed himself to feel had been fleeting…..Arthur
set his jaw….the bone nearly cracked under the pressure as
anger instantly replaced his earlier contentment.

Merlin and Guinevere were here inside the fortress walls? How
could Scipio have allowed such a breach in their defenses?
Annoyance flared in Arthur’s brilliant green eyes, but not at
Darya….anger and disappointment in the officers he’d left in
charge while away on the mission. And he would damn well have
a word with the Optio about this matter the moment the man
returned tonight…..whether peace was reached anew or not.

Merlin could have taken one more precious thing away from
Arthur….the Woad leader could have seriously injured Darya or
even taken her life….and Arthur had not been here to protect
her. Again. Anger twisted over to guilt and Arthur’s fervent
gaze softened again allowing Darya to continue….there was
more?

Arthur was far too focused on Darya’s mouth, and what other
revelations she was now poised to reveal, to realize that
she’d shifted his hand down to cover her abdomen.

Darya
 
“But the attack is not what is troubling me…not only…you
remember that I was not so well lately, don’t you? I
spoke to Isolde about that…and…”


Please God, I beg you…. All that Arthur could imagine was that
Darya was about to share with him that she suffered from
disease or some other complication that would take her from
him. That God could only be punishing Arthur Castus for his
sins against His teachings….punishing him by taking Darya from
this world. Arthur suddenly felt a flood of nausea rise up
inside of him and was forced to swallow roughly to keep the
bile at bay. His mind was churning with what must be done…send
for the best medicus in the Roman Empire….pray for God’s
forgiveness….pray…..Take me, not her….I beg you.

Darya
 
“…and…she came to the conclusion that…right now…there’s
three persons…souls…here in this bed…”


What? Arthur’s pulse was suddenly rumbling in his ears. And
for a brief moment, his gaze broke from Darya to scour their
surroundings expecting to find Isolde in the room with them on
the corner of this very bed. His hand moved from where it
covered his wound and threaded in his own thick hair…..and his
fingers knotted at the roots as Arthur began to ‘comprehend’
Darya’s cryptic words…....we....need you…. I was not so well
lately….

Three souls meant three……he silently calculated……stomach
instantly twisting and churning…..head throbbing and heart
pounding….

…..his hand dropped back down to cover his wound despite the
fact that Arthur could no longer feel anything but…..pure
shock.

Arthur then stared at Darya, wide-eyed and
uncharacteristically tongue-tied. Fortunately for him….or
perhaps her…the Sarmatian’s gaze had fallen to their joined
hands over her stomach and thus Darya did not see the shock
and distress that had flashed through Arthur’s green eyes at
the realization…..she was with child. His child??

His mouth opened; nothing came out; mouth snapped shut again.
Is it my child??

No, this could not be happening….not now, not while Arthur was
likely to die on a battlefield any given day. He was not ready
for a family. He did not deserve his own family as he had
taken too many lives and destroyed too many other families.
And he had not even given thought to marriage at this point in
his life…Hell…Arthur had purposely hidden the intimate nature
of his relationship with Darya from nearly everyone in order
to protect her. And now he was faced with the need to shield
his lover and ‘child’ from harm. Arthur did the only thing he
could in response; he gently squeezed at Darya’s fingers and
briefly shut his eyes in silent prayer for God’s mercy,
guidance and for strength.

“Are you certain?” Arthur whispered at last, surprise quite
evident in his voice and green eyes filled with concern as he
looked to her pale expression. Perhaps it is only an
illness….he would have Neeve or a Roman medicus examine Darya
to be sure of her condition. Yes, that would be the best
course….and deal with….ohGodhelpme…the possibility of becoming
a parent once it had been confirmed.

Arthur’s hand then gently cupped at Darya’s abdomen…as if he
might feel whether a child grew in her womb or not. He knew
that he should show only joy at this news…for Darya’s sake.
But certainly this had to be the troublesome matter that had
been nagging at the Roman’s subconscious for days now. And
somehow all that Arthur could see was Lancelot’s face….wearing
a broad smirk at the news to cover much darker thoughts….and
accusations.

I am blessed and I am cursed.
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: sabor ice
Date: Wed Jul 30, 2008 2:22 am
Mordred & Ash


Merlin & Malcus
 
“I think all of us may stand down, as it were, There seems no need for us to talk until you decide who is empowered to do so. And since that may take a while… in the meantime, you will remove yourselves from our land.”

"Very well, optio, Merlin, of course the optio is in charge. But clearly we are outnumbered and I would be remiss not ensure the optio's safety while here in the hut. The optio is far too modest about his importance to this mission."


Mordred gave an indignant snort at Barbattus' imbecilic
bravado. The Captain had an unruly tenaciousness that even the
Gods would not favor him for. His talent for mindless
underminment and loose verbatim was intellectually obscure, a
pompous idiocy that insulted one's intelligence. Barbattus was
damaging to their reputation, to their image - Rome's image -
and the fact that his obvious taste for being an unsavory
liability had still earned him a place on this mission was
incredibly irritating. He had successfully made them all
appear as inferior, bumbling simpletons before Merlin and his
people. Even the Sarmatian slave seemed to retain better
sense. How now must the enemy view Rome? Despite the knight's
bemusement toward Merlin's unwillingness to participate any
longer, he found he could not fault the magician, for he
would've done the same. The cause was lost. The chance to make
any kind of progress between themselves and the Woads had been
sullied beyond redemption. There was nothing left to be done -
for now.

Merlin
 
"There is no need to worry about safety so long as you
go. Now. I permit you safe passage back to your stone
walls- though if you linger, you will find it otherwise.
I have nothing further to say to either of you."


The dark knight listened no longer. Without a word he made a
beeline for Lucifer, hoisting himself up into the saddle with
one fluid movement, before directing the black steed to follow
after Amadeus toward Badon.

Ash gave a quiet snort of disgust, his nearly flint black eyes
following the movements of the Romans as each of them fled the
scene. What cowards and fools made up Rome's finest. The Woad
found it astonishing they managed to dress themselves let
alone orchestrate any will or deed. Ash did not quite
understand Merlin's decision to let them leave, but he was
certain the leader must have had an agenda, and so it was not
questioned.

The Woad glanced down at Eala from the corner of his eye, a
wry smile touching his features at the savage determination on
the young girl's face, her hand still wrapped about the hilt
of her tiny knife. She was assertive and waiting for any
chance to prove herself. Her spirit was more impressive than
most half her age, himself included.

His hand dropped from its place at the back of Eala's neck and
wrapped around his front - palm against his bleeding side - as
he turned and paced away a few steps. Mona was still moaning
like an animal dying, pathetically scrambling to reach out and
keep hold onto Juna. The healer appeared annoyed and nearly
expired over the entire ordeal as she managed to slip away and
join Guinevere nearby. Ash side-glanced Mona with a bored
look, unceremoniously hooking the side of his foot up under
her ribcage, using minimal effort to shove her trembling form
aside. She was a traitor after all, so why should he care how
she was treated? He passed by the blonde train-wreck and
weaved between some others, disappearing behind the crowd to
find a place to sit and rest until his wounds could be looked
after. He wasn't feeling well at all.
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: Darya
Date: Wed Jul 30, 2008 12:17 pm
Darya


Silence. There was nothing but silence in the room all for
sudden and Darya could have sworn that not even their
breathing could be heard. The female Sarmatian did not dare to
look at Arthur. Her dark gaze focused on the Roman’s and her
hand resting on her stomach… She had been so afraid of this
moment, had imagined all kinds of possible reactions coming
from her lover…even this total silence. But now that it was
there…the moment of truth as well as the silence, the
dark-haired tensed and was at a total loss about whether or
not she should do or say something. She could sense Arthur’s
tension, which only added to her own, and blinked a few times,
not even daring to brush a tiny strand of hair out of her
face, which had fallen across her cheek and was tickling her
skin. Normally, she would most likely have not paid any
attention to this…but right now, she was ever so aware of this
little detail. And all that because her senses were at high
alert…attempting to replace her eyes in catching an additional
reaction from Arthur…something other than this…silence…

Arthur
 
“Are you certain?”


Finally the silence was broken and Darya closed her eyes, a
corner of her mouth twitching slightly…rather sadly…as she did
so. She recalled the night Isolde and her had discussed the
possible reasons for her ailment… Gods, and she definitely
recalled how she had felt the panic embrace her body when the
Irish healer had come to the final conclusion. And that
strange chill threatened to crawl down her spine yet again.
The dark-haired took a deep breath and let her hand cover
Arthur’s, which was cupping her abdomen. His voice was loaded
with surprise, understandably of course…as the news had been a
surprise for her as well back then. And yet Darya tried to
scrutinize those three words Arthur had spoken and the way he
had spoken them for more… Was he annoyed? Or feeling as lost
as she was? The woman swallowed roughly, preparing herself to
do her part in breaking the silence…

“Isolde and I went through all symptoms…and I pestered her for
hours to make sure that this…was the only logic and possible
answer…”, the Sarmatian replied quietly, still not daring to
meet her lover’s emerald gaze, “…and she was so very certain
in the end…so certain that I…that I am…that…” The woman’s
voice trailed off and she let her head loll back, leaning it
heavily against Arthur’s shoulders. “Gods, I cannot even say
it…I cannot even say it…”, Darya hawed and bit her lower lip
painfully to silence and calm herself for a moment. And only
then did she finally meet the Roman’s gaze with her dark one.
Forgotten was the Woad problem…and even her injured or dead
countrymen for now. All that counted for her in this very
moment was how she – how they – could deal with this new
situation. New to her at least…for the Sarmatian had no idea
if Arthur had ever been confronted with this before. Deep
inside, she doubted it for some reasons…yet she could not be
sure, could she?

Then the dark-haired attempted a smile to ease things…but she
failed miserably. She should be happy about this, should she
not? It was the natural way of life, right? No matter how
complicated things sometimes were between the man and the
woman. Yet Darya would not even be able to describe how she
was feeling if asked. She was lost, she was afraid…and more,
which she simply could not put a finger on.

Brushing her free hand over her pale face, the dark Sarmatian
sighed quietly and turned her head at bit to be even closer to
Arthur. “I am so not prepared for this, Arthur…”, she
whispered and pressed her lips into a thin line as she tried
to draw strength from her lover’s eyes and his nearness.
Strength she knew she would need so dearly…no matter what the
Roman would do or say now. Arthur of all people certainly knew
that a child was something that had never been a topic or
possibility in her strange life…

…until now.
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golden_trillium

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Author: golden_trillium
Date: Wed Jul 30, 2008 7:10 pm
Merlin and Tristan


Nolan
 
“Rome grows more pathetic every day. The Gods must
surely laugh at their…talents for negotiation…”


Ceinwyn
 
“…And yet the slaves still obey them.”


“Ridiculous, is it not?” Though the rhetorical question was in
response to Nolan and Ceinwyn’s words, Merlin aimed his barbed
answer at the Sarmatian slave who was now warily and
scowlingly urging his horse into motion in Scipio’s wake. The
scout’s eyes met Merlin’s only briefly, but lingered on
Ceinwyn’s for a second longer- and then, just as he passed
her, he spat contemptuously on the ground. Ahhh…his pride
rebelled against that jibe. Good. Perhaps one day, if the Gods
willed it, he and his countrymen would rebel against the
Romans all together and do some of the Woads work for them. Or
failing that, maybe Merlin’s warriors would have the
satisfaction of spilling all of their blood someday. Foolish,
brave, slaves of the empire.

Merlin turned his head as he spotted a movement out of the
corner of his eye and gave Juna, who had just returned to the
main group, a small, almost cocky half-smile of satisfaction
with the way things were going. The Romans were leaving,
defeated without even a scuffle- and now the Woads could make
their final disappearance, into the woods and back to their
village. No one else would be sent from the fort so late in
the day, and by tomorrow, the Woads would be virtually
undetectable again. Mission rather neatly accomplished.

“Give them a warning shot to hurry them- at his feet.” Merlin
spoke to one of the warriors that stood nearest him, on the
other side of him from Nolan, nodding towards Barbattus, the
one who had seemed least eager to leave…
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golden_trillium

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Author: sabor ice
Date: Thu Jul 31, 2008 1:00 am
Alina


Kolya
 
"Alina! And who would I say a word to this about, hm?
You forget who it is you're talking to sweetheart."


His audacity was ebbing at her defenses. She could feel her
walls - walls she never realized she had - starting to crumble
all around her. The more Alina felt exposed, the more she
pulled away. The more she felt vulnerable, the further she
ventured into a state of denial. Kolya seemed to see that, and
so he continued to push her. He continued to push her, and she
didn't want to give in. She didn't want to let him inside
because she still loved Galahad. For someone who had always
been level-headed, who had always been realistic, it just
seemed implausible to her to love two men at once. Her heart
was a battleground.

He situated himself on the step behind her and placed a hand
at the nape of her neck, a simple gesture, but relatively
intimate at that. A familiar touch, but unwelcome under the
circumstances. She shrugged his hand away. She felt no
comfort, only uncertainty, over their closeness, but she was
powerless to escape. Divine intervention had seen to her
prompt immobilization when she twisted her ankle. The woman
snorted quietly and hunkered forward, joining her hands
beneath her legs and resting the side of her face against her
lap.

"It's funny...I always thought it'd be different somehow..."
she remarked wryly. "...life."

Nothing is what it seems, nothing is as it should be...

Kolya
 
"And you never did answer my question either..."


Alina lifted her head and threw an incredulous glance back at
the former knight. Again with the pushing. She slowly shook
her head to herself and looked away again, shrugging her
shoulders up to her ears a moment.

"What do you want me to say, Kolya? Do you want me to say I
want you around? That I need you? That I love you? Tell me
what you want me to say, and I'll say it," she said quietly,
brow creased sadly. "It won't change anything. Whatever you
want Kolya, I can't give you."
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golden_trillium

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Author: Pinkie
Date: Thu Jul 31, 2008 4:38 am
Mari


Mari didn't understand the worry and darkness in Milan's life.
She would never understand it until it presented itself in
whatever form it was bound to do. How could she understand it?
Even when bad things happened in her own life her very unique
disposition enabled Mari to put a gentler spin on things. And
if she cuold not put a gentler spin on something then she
promptly pushed it to the back of her mind, she refused to
think about it and in time she would explain it away in her
own gentle manner.

Milan's soft lips touched hers and Mari nodded her head,
signalling that she had seen him agree to tell her what it was
that terrified him before it was too late. She didn't know
what it might be too late for but she was certain that
something from his past was not quite passed and that someday
someone would come looking for him. As the young man embraced
her, Mari let her head loll forward and she smiled, letting
time slide by at an easy pace, without worry and without
consideration, just for a little while. Milan kissed her neck.
She slid her hands up his shoulders and idly brushed her
fingers up against the hair at the nape of his neck, her eyes
shut. A soft murmur of a song whispered from her pursed lips
after a while until finally Mari sat back on her heels and
looked up at Milan, her expression bright and all vestige of
bleakness disappeared as if it had never been there.

"Come on - if we start now we might have our own little place
in a few days." the innocent suggested, gesturing to the
debris from the house that would need to be cleared. They
wuold have to get someone in to fix the roof - it was
something that neither of them had experience with, but
Mordred's foul deed had left Mari financially capable of
affording this and if it meant that she and Milan could have a
quiet life, a peaceful existence together then it was money
well spent.
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golden_trillium

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Author: LadyCastus
Date: Thu Jul 31, 2008 9:14 am
Neeria and Malcus Barbattus


Neeria strained to hear what was going on inside the hut but
she was unable to make out what was being said. She scanned
the throng of people, her people. Some looked bruised and
weary, others looked fierce and angry. Neeria felt all of that
and more. The reality of the loss of her husband, Mikel, was
falling down on her like a dark cloud, weighting her with a
heavy sorrow. She felt weary and tired. Neeria looked over at
the clump on the ground that was once her friend, Mona.
Clearly, she’d gone mad and was now laying there, discarded
and shunned by her own people, like a stray dog. Then there
was Ceinwyn, another victim to what appeared to be insanity.
What had happened to her? What demons tormented her? What kind
of life, of existence was that?

Again, Neeria looked around at the faces and wondered – who
exactly is the enemy here? The blue people were so ready to
blindly kill her, their own, without knowing facts? What had
they become? Savages, like the Romans called them? She watched
the blank expressions of the assassins as they strained their
bows, waiting for the order to cut down the Romans. And
Tristan. Her gaze slid over back to the hut but she could not
see the Sarmatian in the darkness of the small structure.
Neeria looked back on her people. Some of them were so young.
Neeria had fought with most of them and for most of them all
of her life, yet they were ready to kill her without even
giving her a chance to speak? They were easily convinced that
her loyalties were that frivolous? Already they had been
proven wrong by Guinevere! But turning on her and taking the
word of a Roman over her own? They disgusted her. All of them.
Anger flashed in her dark eyes. It was she that could not
trust them! Maybe they were animals, creatures of the wood,
simply living for the kill. The warrior sighed heavily when
suddenly, she heard Merlin’s voice. Neeria watched as Merlin
came from the hut, the one they called ‘optio’, behind him.

Merlin
 
"I permit you safe passage back to your stone walls-
though if you linger, you will find it otherwise. I have
nothing further to say to either of you."


The grey eyed Roman exited the hut, as did the ‘other’ dark
knight. The optio mounted his horse without a word and
sinister-looking knight followed suit as they both led their
horses from the clearing. Neeria’s eyes were on Merlin. Her
leader. She would soon be united with him again so that they
may talk and sort things out. She was hopeful about that.

Malcus watched as Scipio walked out of the hut like a mutt
with his tail between his legs. Giving up! Defeated without
even an effort to talk with Merlin, with his lacky, Mordred,
in tow. How the optio had risen to his level of command
baffled Malcus. How Rome would have rewarded such a defeatist
was beyond Malcus’ realm of comprehension. Arthur would hear
of Scipio’s cowardice and Mordred’s slacky.

Nolan
 
“Rome grows more pathetic every day. The Gods must
surely laugh at their…talents for negotiation…”


Ceinwyn
 
“…And yet the slaves still obey them.”


Malcus finally left the hut, catching another whiff of fertile
earth which was Merlin, and walked over to Falco. As Tristan
urged his mount, the scout suddenly spat on the ground at the
feet of a feral, rabid-looking woad woman. Good for him,
Malcus thought. That must have angered Merlin because before
Barbattus could raise his foot to the stirrup, Merlin gave the
order that the captain did not want to hear.

Merlin
 
“Give them a warning shot to hurry them- at his feet.”


Almost instantaneously, before Merlin seemed to even get the
last syllable out his mouth, Barbattus heard the shattering
snap of bow that had been stretched to near breaking point,
followed by the screaming hiss of an airborne arrow. Malcus
barely had time to curse when the arrow impaled the ground
just beside his right foot. The captain was vaguely aware that
he was actually impressed by the efficiency of the command and
action.

Barbattus realized that there was nothing to prevent Merlin
from striking both Malcus and Tristan down, shooting them both
right in the back. Especially since Scipio and the knight had
deserted them. They were on their own. Acting instinctively,
Malcus grabbed Neeria around the waist and literally threw the
small woman over his saddle, climbing up right behind her.
Pinning the startled woman against him, he yelled at the
magician.

“We’ll just take back what we offered until you’re ready to
talk.”

Neeria never saw it coming. Suddenly, she was swept off her
feet and violently slung back onto a horse, the impact
crushing her side. Without having to look, she knew her wound
had reopened. The pain was blinding.

“NO!!!!” she screamed, panicking. “NO!!!!!”

Hot tears burned her eyes as the ripped wound scorched her
through to her soul. Her breathing became labored as Neeria
began to kick her legs and flail her arms, trying desperately
to break free. Falco reared but the Roman held fast to both
the woad and the reigns of the frightened horse. Neeria tried
to bite and scratch, but the man held her tightly against his
breast as the mount finally gathered his legs under him and
sped through the trees. Neeria lolled her head to the side and
wretched.
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golden_trillium

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Author: Kay
Date: Thu Jul 31, 2008 10:22 am
Guinevere


Juna
 
“Knock her out however you like. This numbs the body and
the mind. Give her however much you want. It will either
make her unconscious or kill her.”


Juna handed Guinevere a small jar, filled with liquid. The
princess took the potion, and then watched as Juna moved away.
Turning her gaze back to the pathetic, bleeding woman who had
once been a proud Woad warrior, Guinevere advanced toward Mona
and forced the potion down her throat. That done, the princess
stood back and waited for the infusion to take effect.
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golden_trillium

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Author: linnet
Date: Thu Jul 31, 2008 8:50 pm

Gawain and Mother Lavinia


The blond knight’s eyes rested on Eyla just long enough to
register the once over appraisal and suggestive smile she gave
him. He was long past being naïve enough to read anything into
it other than a business calling card. Still, there was no
denying that such a look from a beautiful woman kicked a man’s
self-image up a notch. And it was doubly satisfying because
Gawain considered Eyla to be a whore out of his league; a
confection reserved for the powerful and influential. Her
quickly re-focused attention on Lancelot confirmed that he was
right about the woman’s priorities. He reciprocated with his
own evaluating gaze over Eyla’s fine assets, with just the
hint of a smile curving one side of his mouth. Then he walked
off to fetch Lavinia.

His thoughts were pulled to Catherine. How many men had she
pleased so far today with a smile much like Eyla’s? How many
coins and exotic stories had she received in exchange for
everything her smile promised? He tried to shake her from his
mind. He’d talked with her exactly twice. She was a
prostitute. He was crazy to dwell on her, and he wouldn’t.
Then he pictured her happily drawing a map with her finger,
and smiling sincerely as she told him about elephants and
leopards.

The door to what Gawain believed was Lavinia’s office was
closed. He knocked.

“Go away. I’m busy,” the preoccupied nun demanded.

The knight opened the door and intruded only a couple of
steps. Lavinia was seated at her desk, with her face nearly
buried in the pages of a book lying open in front of her.
Gawain attempted to remind the nun that she was needed
elsewhere. “Galahad …,” he began.

“Oh, it’s you,” Lavinia interrupted sharply, looking up. “Come
here and tell me what this says.” She picked up the book and
held it as far from her face as her arms would allow, then
brought it back right up to her nose, trying to find a point
that would bring things into focus. “The devil's small print!”

“I can’t read,” the blond knight said apologetically. What was
the crazy old healer doing reading a book when Galahad was
bleeding and in pain? Gawain decided he’d have to find some
other healer in a hurry, since despite all her talk about
being the best, Lavinia had apparently lost it.

“Of course, you can’t read,” the nun said matter of factly.
“Can you count?” Gawain nodded yes. “Good,” Lavinia said.
“Tell me how many straight up and down lines this measurement
symbol has.” She pointed her gnarled finger at some marks on
the page.

“Two,” Gawain told her. The old woman’s eyesight must be
awful, he thought, since two lines were easy for him to see.

The nun closed the book, filled a small spoon twice with some
mixture that she deposited onto a piece of cloth, then folded
the cloth into a compact square. This she added to her large
pockets, already filled with the supplies she needed to take
care of Galahad. “Let’s go,” she said, nearly pushing Gawain
out the door in front of her. “You should be ashamed of
yourself, corrupting such a young girl. Have you no morals at
all?”

The knight was pondering an answer to her accusations about
Fiona when Lavinia caught sight of Lancelot and the fallen
woman, Eyla. “Mother Mary and Joseph!” she cried. “Now my
infirmary is being turned into a brothel.” Marching resolutely
to confront the offending pair with no hesitation at
interrupting them, Lavinia took the folded cloth and plastered
it against Lancelot’s battered eye. “Hold that compress to
your eye. It will help,” she ordered. Turning to Eyla, the nun
just shook her head. “I’m in no mood to lecture you today,
madam. I already have someone else waiting to be chastised.
You’ll receive what you came for when I finish with the
Sarmatians. Try to stay away from my patients while you wait."
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