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| July 2008 | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Apr 3 2010, 09:33 PM (2,364 Views) | |
| golden_trillium | Apr 5 2010, 02:01 PM Post #31 |
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Author: Darya Date: Sat Jul 05, 2008 3:20 am Darya
“That’s not possible…”, was the quiet and dry reply, yet Darya could not help but smile wryly at the harlot’s words, clearly remembering that she actually had wanted Arthur to stay at Badon…to not ride out into the battle against the Saxons. By the Gods, she had even asked him to stay and send his Optio instead. It had been a foolish thing to ask, the Sarmatian knew that of course…the warrior-part of her knew it. But that question had been asked by Darya, the loving woman…not by the warrior. She was pretty sure that Arthur had known that… And yet both had been and still were very aware of the fact that duty came before all else. Sad as this was. It was part of Rome’s book. Thus Eyla’s words were nothing more but wishful thinking…wishful thinking so naively voiced by a woman who – and of that Darya was certain – had never been on a battlefield or killed someone in a fight. The Sarmatian was not sure if she should envy the other woman for that…or pity her. But Eyla’s words also made Darya glance down at Arthur once more…studying his handsome features closely for a moment and she felt the almost overwhelming urge to brush some dark curls out of the Roman’s face… The urge, to just lay down next to him and to hold him…to feel him close…to warm him and to be warmed in return. To kiss him and to remain by his side until he had rested enough…to assure him things would be alright… The picture her thoughts and feelings formed in the female Sarmatian’s mind let a faint yet warm smile spread on her lips for a moment and her delicate fingers flexed slightly on Arthur’s thigh…
…and with that, the sweet image in her head popped like a bleb and the woman’s dark gaze snapped up to meet Eyla’s again. No, she did not really regret her first and so far only encounter with the other woman…yet the Sarmatian preferred some things in her life to remain unspoken. Like some of the things that had happened at Alavana…like the circumstances under which Jarek had died before her eyes and how much this had affected her and Tristan way back then at home, like who she really was…like how strangely and shockingly easy it had been to give in to a woman’s touch… However, Darya pulled herself together and decided to ignore Eyla’s allusion to what had transpired between the two of them a while ago…yet knowing that – if Arthur was still sort of awake – she would probably have to deal with it later anyway. Not very helpful considering what else she had to tell her lover. Gods, why had life to be so dam complicated? “How could I sleep with the Woads still so close and probably preparing yet another attack?”, the dark-haired replied and tilted her head a little, biting her tongue to not mention that there actually were some Woads inside the Fortress of that for she doubted that Arthur would want everyone to know about that. And then she realized how awkwardly close this situation was to a déjà-vu…for she had been troubled, exhausted and restless before and during her last encounter with Eyla as well…just like she was now. Even though it had been for different reasons back then. “Those who have just returned from battle need to rest…”, Darya then added almost pensively and briefly looked at Commander again. And if you had not sent the healer and me away this morning, I would have watched over you all day…, she thought and sighed silently before focusing on Eyla once more. “The men who have fought so bravely need to rest…”, she continued, deliberately not mentioning that she had been involved in the fights herself…something the light sting at her left arm kept reminding her of. As did the quite satisfying knowledge that she had 'marked' Merlin himself…by wounding him at least slightly. “Do you ever rest, Eyla?” |
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| golden_trillium | Apr 5 2010, 02:02 PM Post #32 |
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Author: LadyCastus Date: Sat Jul 05, 2008 9:08 am Mona Mona clutched her arm as the hot sticky blood oozed between her fingers. Her face was a bloody mess as well. She looked up at Guinevere and glared at her, completely out of her mind. "You're not worthy to call yourself 'princess'" she said. "I've hated you and that other bitch for years." Mona tried to strike out at Guinevere with her well arm but it was futile. She lacked the strength to barely lift her arm. The fallen woad slid across the forest floor toward Guinevere, using the very little strength she had left to try and fight. She looked pathetic. She couldn't even stand, let alone fight. Reality was in the background of her delusion and for a quick moment, she felt sorrow for she had done. But before she could fully grasp the feeling, it was gone and blind hatred came back to her. Mona pushed herself to her knees, then slowly, grimacing and groaning, stood up. She curled her lips back, baring her teeth at Guinevere and took a step forward, her hands balled into bloody fists. But her body failed her and she fell again, into a heap, onto the muddy ground. |
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| golden_trillium | Apr 5 2010, 02:03 PM Post #33 |
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Author: Starbelle Date: Sat Jul 05, 2008 2:14 pm Tatiana
"Well, if you can't be comfortable at home, where else can you be?" Tatiana asked him in a curious tone of voice, not feeling ready or comfortable enough to bring up Thorn's name in her conversations with him just yet since she didn't know her well enough to do so, and she also took Adian's feelings about Thorn into consideration as well. Physically feeling his eyes on her while she glanced around his quarters then hearing the door close behind her, and feeling him remove her cloak and place it on the wooden pegs hanging there. Watching Adian as he got everything all set out for a meal in front of the fire, she was intregued as she watched him move a set of stones off of a hidden door where he pulled out some wine and fruit then after replacing the stones once the door had been closed again, she was very impressed at his ingenuity for keeping foodstuffs cold.
"That, I can definetly do, Adian, easily." Tatiana replied with a grin as she comfortably curled her legs up underneath her like a fawn, she sat in her indicated spot, removed her ankle-high boots and after accepting her glass of wine from him, began to daintily eat at the food that sat inbetween them. "This is quite nice, Adian." She commented to the carpenter, warmly as she enjoyed everything including his company during their meal. "You're just full of surprises, aren't you, love?" Tati teased, a playful tone entering her voice causing her eyes to sparkle in the firelight. |
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| golden_trillium | Apr 5 2010, 02:05 PM Post #34 |
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Author: LadyCastus Date: Sat Jul 05, 2008 5:53 pm Neeria Neeria didn't flinch when Merlin directed his gaze toward her.
"I am misunderstood, Merlin," she began. Defiantly, she took a step closer to the woad leader. "I left our camp seeking the head of Arthur Castus. When I got to the road, I spotted that one," she said, pointing a finger at Tristan. She locked eyes with the scout momentarily, then turned back to Merlin. "He alerted Arthur and his caravan, including the knights, that we were on the road. We lost our advantage and the element of surprise," she continued, almost sorrowful at that moment. "The knights were able to mobilize and prepare for an attack. We fought hard, Mona was by my side. Many fell and others were wounded. I saw an opportunity to get to Castus and I took it. I mounted his horse and put a knife to his throat. But I failed," she said, never taking her eyes from Merlin's. "I was wounded also," she raised the tunic and showed Merlin the bandages underneath, " which made it easier for Arthur who was stronger and he gained control. My followers were being slaughtered and Castus was about to kill me. I saw Mona's face and decided to act to save them. I begged Castus to call off the assault, to save my people," she paused for the briefest of moments, then continued, "if I promised to lead him to you. He agreed to do so and I ordered my followers to return to you." Neeria shifted her weight as she continued her story. "Arthur took me back to the wall and threw me in the dungeons. I saw Eala there. He brought me a blanket," she said, pointing at Tristan again "and that one, " she said, pointing at Malcus, "ordered another one to take us to the healer, give us food and clothes," she said, pulling on the sleeve her tunic. "I don't know why Arthur did not come," she said, looking around at the other Romans. "And this camps is how we found it. These men were bound when we arrived," "I knew you would not stay here at the camp, Merlin. I knew you would be gone. I have never betrayed you. I led them here - away from the village, to sacrifice myself. I swear it to the gods." Neeria stepped back. Her shoulders slumped and she breathed heavily. She knew her fate rested with Merlin. In some ways, she was dead already. |
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| golden_trillium | Apr 6 2010, 05:52 PM Post #35 |
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Author: golden_trillium Date: Sun Jul 06, 2008 8:00 am Merlin
"I see." Merlin nodded knowingly at Neeria's words, studying her face, alert and searching for any sign of deception. He did not find it, and he was truthfully not sure whether that surprised him or not. It was true that days ago, he would never have thought Neeria a traitor- but also true that since Mona's declaration that she was, that impression of her had stuck in the hearts and minds of his people, and Merlin was not immune to such things. The general impression among the Woads was that Neeria had sold them out- and it was hard to shake, even though her story seemed reasonable. With a soft "hmmph" of reflection, the Woad leader turned back to Scipio, tilting his head slightly to the side as he addressed a somewhat easier topic. "Is it true what she says? That my men were bound when you arrived? What of the one who is dead?" Merlin gestured towards the decapitated body on the ground to the side of the hut, then to the living prisoners visible through its doorway. |
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| golden_trillium | Apr 6 2010, 05:53 PM Post #36 |
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Author: lady ione Date: Sun Jul 06, 2008 12:16 pm Brendyn How damned frustrating was this? Looking for the tiny woad was like looking for a needle in a haystack. Brendyn was beginning to feel grimy, smellier than before, hungry and the wound was a bit achy as well, but the prisoner had to be found. So far, he had gotten nasty looks from the vendors as he searched their homes and kiosks. His thoughts went to thinking perhaps she was hungry, and might have headed toward the food stands...but that she was injured should have made it easier to find her as injuries had a way of slowing people down. "Ach! Ye smell like horse dung! Now out of my shop!" The shopkeeper yelled. "I don't want my food soiled!" Brendyn looked incredulously at the old man, "But sir, I am looking for an escaped prisoner! You must let me search!" The old man folded his arms over his chest, "On who's authority do you have to taint my food! Now go!" Casting one more glance at the disgruntled gent, Brendyn knew the man was right. He moved off without another word and headed to the last two places he new of the search: The top of the wall that had a great vantage point, and the servant's gates.... |
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| golden_trillium | Apr 6 2010, 05:59 PM Post #37 |
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Author: Pinkie Date: Sun Jul 06, 2008 2:39 pm Eala Eala quite liked horses. She did not trust horse prints in the woods like this though. It meant Romans when it was like this. Woads would not leave such a noticeable track because they were hunted. Why would they make it easy to be found? And so the little blonde hunkered down by the prints, frowning off one side to the other. Ash came to sit by her and she looked over at him, watching as he peered down at the tracks and then did the same as she, looked side to side. Eala's head tilted, watching his eyes all the time. He placed a hand to the earth - Eala did too. He placed a finger against his chin in thought... Eala did too, she was even frowning in almost identical fashion as Ash. Suddenly his lips moved. Eala did not catch what he said but he spat off to the side and stood up, squaring his broad shoulders. The ten-year old looked down at the prints, missing something... she looked back up at Ash who was now looking down at her.
His eyes were dark and sinister which made the hackles on the back of her neck rise. Eala's top lip pulled back a little without knowing why and she stared at his lips, trying to understand what he was saying. She understood 'revenge' and 'today' but couldn't figure out how that was so. When he made a gesture for her to follow, the blonde did so without hesitation. She fell into an easy lope behind Ash, dashing through the trees, the damp earth squealching beneath her bare feet which were hard, resilient to the elements after ten years of walking the forest floor in such a fashion. Eala found it relatively easy to keep up with Ash. Normally she would have felt pride and superiority in doing so, but now she was a little wiser to teh world. She glanced at the back of his head, her lips parted, hair whipped back against her pale cheeks, her black eyes piercing. She knew he was injured and that was what slowed him to a speed she could easily keep up with. Any other time and he would have left her in his dust. The little blonde felt an uncomfortable churning in her stomach --- worry. The two followed the tracks silently. Voices could be haerd by ears that could listen - but Eala was not aware that they were coming upon people until they left the clearing and there stood a good number of Woads... a few Romans, one on a horse, and Merlin. The little blonde pushed her way through the gathering of woads until she came to the clearing between Merlin and Scopio. Eala's black eyes brightened as she panted from the run, a dewy sweat on her pale skin despite the cold. She couldn't help the lopsided, proud smile that curled her lips as she looked up at Ash and back over at her leader. Black eyes glittered as she looked towards her people, Neeria, Merlin, alighting on Juna with a hiccup of relief. Eala waggled her finger at Juna, reaching back to clasp Ash's hand, wanting him to get his stomach wound looked at. When she looked back, however, she saw the man on horseback a bit closer and recognised him as the one who had put her on the horse and hurt her shoulder. Eala snarled, turning like a scalded cat, ready to pounce... Amadeus Foul creatures. Sub human. They were almost as bad as the Sarmatians. Except Amadeus was beginning to see the value of this particular Sarmatian he had with him. Tristan was quiet. He did his duty with efficient, unemotional strikes. Admirable - but he was still a dog. Just a good dog, an obediant dog. The Woads, however, showed no such signs of coming to heel. They stood defiant and dirty, impure... an insult to the might of Rome, to the sanctity of the church!
And he the worst!
Amadeus' eyes twitched into slits at Merlin - his attention momentarily distracted by the noise coming from a short distance away. He glanced over at Neeria as she was addressed. He did not feel the need to tell Merlin that whether Neeria helped them or not, she was still a woad, she was still the enemy. Nothing would change such a thing in his eyes. Maybe in Arthur's, but Amadeus Scipio was not as weak as Castus.. not as merciful. These woads would come to know that when he took over Badon Hill -- oh Merlin would rue the day he thought Scipio anything less than a God! The little bitch was addressed - Amadeus was marginally interested in hearing how she would plead her case, and indeed she did not disappoint, easily changing her story to suit the situation at hand. Now she had been about sacrificing herself. The Optio thought it the most ludicrous, see-through excuse he had ever heard. A part of him hoped that Merlin would see through it also and end Neeria's pitiful existance here and now so that he might witness such a kindness to Britain.
Those unfathomable eyes were turned back on him. Amadeus glanced over at the newest intrusion, a little blonde girl and a male, before looking back at Merlin. He took his time, sighing deeply as he considered how he would declare this. "The only truth that I know is that she swore to lead us to you, Merlin, in exchange for her life. As for these - " he gestured flippantly to the hut, "That one was dead when we arrived. The other..." Amadeus knew that this would not sound good, but there was nothing for it. This was nto a time of peace, this was war. And Merlin had made it so by attacking Badon Hill last night. "Well, casualties during war are to be expected." the Optio intoned coldly, looking back into the eerily attentive eyes of Merlin. Tensing his jaw, the Optio stepped forward and pulled back his shoulders. He sniffed, his narrow nose remaining twitched to the side arrogantly as he glanced sideways, one eyebrow raiesd, non-chalant. "Now - we will speak about your attack on our fortress last night. An unprovoked attack made whilst under treaty... Explain your actions." Amadeus demanded, his tone full of authority but his words sounding too strained to be natural. Catherine No, Catherine was not subtle in her approach to her work. She knew that she was beautiful to men, she knew that when she took good care of herself that she stood out from the crowd. She knew that that was why she was one of the most popular whores in Badon Hill. All that she possessed was on display, open to any man to adore or purchase. The one thing Catherine kept to herself was within her mind... her loves and wishes. Foreign lands, different languages, rivers that stretched for miles across, bridges that spanned those rivers, a place where a whole country was divided by a great wall, waterfalls miles high! Mountains covered in snow and struck so far up in the sky that the tops could not be seen! Golden beaches, huge beasts with curled tusks, cats bigger than dogs and fish bigger than a houses. They were all out there, she knew that - all she wanted in life was to see them. She had to make sure that men pined for her, longed for her body so that she could discover more of the world, a man's world, where women dare not tread.
And this man had surely seen much of the world. His look and accent were so foreign, the unusual swish and curl of the black tattoos on his face kept drawing her hazy green gaze but she did not try to hide it, allowing her beautiful eyes to rove over his wry smile as he replied to her question. Catherine gave a whisper of flirtatious, forgiving laughter at his words, nodding her head as she swayed a few steps closer to him, her eyes dropping to the men at the table as his did. The scrape of a chair made her raise her eyebrows and she looked at the back of the man who had deliberately turned away from her. The whore did not like that reaction, she felt it to be a ratehr hostile reaction and she paused in her movements forward, pausing, twirling a strand of golden hair about her slender finger, looking towards the man who had spoken first to see if he was interested in continuing to get to know her.
She was won over. The blonde's smile was slight but it was magnificent because it was genuine, it lit up her pretty eyes. She looked back at the table and then at the glinting dark eyes of the man who had spoken to her as she slowly shook her head, biting her bottom lip before prodding it gently with the stiff tip of her tongue. "No.. but it sounds interesting. Four Kings? Surely there can only be one King. Is it a game of risk or strategy? With four kings at the start and they must fight each other until only one is left? Hmmm..." she purred, bravely walking towards the broad back of the man that had abruptly turned away from him. She gave a sultry smile to one of the men who looked up but turned her attention back to their leader, well, the one she assumed was their leader. "Speak that word again.." she asked, close upon demanding, but her tone so suggestive, so soft and breathy that it sounded lewd! "Chaturaji..." Drake It was not possible to dislike someone that you did not know - but Drake was beginning to consider it. Derfel was not exactly unkind, but there was no doubting there was a tension between them. Try as he might, Drake was just not able to ignore it - when they exchanged words it was short, to the point and there was always an awkward silence afterwards. Soon enough they just didn't bother with small talk. Their work was done almost silently, orders and suggestions issued by mere grunts and swift gestures and no eye-contact. Linnette was busy with Linnesse, sorting through clothes, organising bedding and the general demolition of the two rooms. Each time they passed by his bedroom Drake flinched, his mind unable to come to terms with the fact that Linnette would be sleeping right next door to him. The torture of it. Would he hear her cry? Would she realise when she was brought there that it was the same room he had brought her to earlier to fix up her sore hands? With almost everything in the new rooms, Derfel was setting up the beds and Drake decided he would go get the last of whatever the women needed brought to the room. Anything to not just stand around with Derfel in that stupidly tense atmosphere. The Spaniard rounded the corner first and lifted his eyebrows, looking down at Linnette as she stood in front of him looking equally startled. There was a healthy flush to her cheeks from the work, a smattering of dust on her cheek which he wanted to brush away but resisted. His green eyes looked above her head to Linnesse.
Well, that was it then. Nothing for it. Drake cleared his throat and stepped in smoothly to one side, gesturing for the women to step on ahead of him. He looked at both their faces as they walked past him, his expression unreadable. As Linnette passed him, Drake reached his hand out to take the bag from her shoulder, his eyes questionning whether she wanted him to take it or not - "This way." he said huskily, pointing down the corridor. They walked quietly for a short while and Drake harumphed, indicating that they were to turn, his broad palm gesturing out to the appropriate side - and they walked a little further. When they came to his door his frown and gloare should have set something alight. His jaw made an audible click and he came to an abrupt halt, allowing the women to walk on a few more steps before clearing his throat and gesturing to the half-open door. "Here." he grunted, looking down at the ground as he used the tips of his finger to push the door open more, standing with his back against teh wall next to the door, unintrusive but directive. Galahad
Galahad gave a sigh at being called 'pup'. He wanted to defend himself against the derogative nickname but couldn't find the sense of self-worth inside of his brain to actually vocalise a complaint. So instead he let his head hang even lower and was led along, carried pratctically, by Gawain and Lancelot. He thought about Alina, thought about whether she would hate him for attacking Kolya. And if she did hate him, why would she hate him? For attacking him because she had feelings for him, or because he had risked his own safety by attacking someone who was admittedly... older, larger and stronger than he was.
The youngest Sarmatian didn't answer. He pouted. Severely. His blue eyes were filled with tears and his throat felt choked up. He wasn't even putting up a fight against 'pup' for a second time, just sniffling and giving a non-committed shrug of his shoulder. He didn't want to tell Lancelot that Alina had cheated on him, he didn't want to put up with his infuriating cracks about how he wasn't able to satisfy one woman when Lancelot, the great cock Lancelot, could satisfy a dozen and still win in a fight against a man who was bigger, stronger and older than he was!
"B.." Galahad began, his lips cracking painfully as he parted them to speak which made him slap them shut, his brow furrowing deeply. He was about to argue further when he realised what Gawain was doing. The lump in his throat made Galahad choke a little and he tipped forward, not going far as the other two held onto him. He sniffed loudly and kept his eyes down on the ground, not saying anything, but his hand tightened on Gawain's side in silent thanks for covering his ass like that.
Hearing it said again made Galahad feel like he was takign advantage of Gawain's good nature, that he was going to get his brother in trouble because he had been such a fucking idiot to attack Kolya! "Gawain.." he began, about to tell the blonde knight that he didn't have to do this, that he didn't have to take the flak for his stupid actions, but feet appeared in front of his bloodshot eyes and he lifted his too-heavy head to look at someone he really did not want to see. A woad.
No, Galahad was not in the mood for Woads. "Piss off." he grumbled. |
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| golden_trillium | Apr 6 2010, 06:01 PM Post #38 |
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Author: Lancelot Date: Sun Jul 06, 2008 5:32 pm Lancelot Lancelot tightened his grip on Galahad; his own damnable trousers felt loose still and threatened to slide down his hips. Thank the gods for the spare leathers .... he looked at the barrel where he'd layed them as they passed, and smiled at the thought of not having to pay for yet something else he couldn't afford ... until he noticed the barrel was just a barrel and not a pants holder. Someone had stolen his leathers. The leathers he'd stolen off a dead Sarmatian. "FUCK!" Gritting his teeth, Lancelot snarled a few curse words and ugly things in their native tongue as he hurried his pace. Galahad needed to be seen to and Lancelot himself was now so angry he could easily take the pup apart with rage if he didn't watch it. Not that Galahad was making him angry - but anyone who happened to get in his way....woe betide them. He felt his jaw crack and ignored the hair that was dripping into his sore face as it flopped over his eyes.
Lancelot stared at Gawain for a moment, and then shrugged, which was difficult to do with their burden. "As you say," he commented blankly, anger and exhaustion still fighting for dominance in his brain. "Your choice to be a fool," although I'd do the exact same thing. He broke their gaze only after he twisted his mouth wryly. "I'll think of something - perhaps Arthur won't have to know the truth of this at all. Don't fret, Galahad." He spoke directly to the younger Sarmatian, all traces of sarcasm and mood gone from his tone. He meant it. Lancelot might seem a shit, a cocky, self serving bastard whom the others thought might only have his own interests at heart - and yes, he perpetuated that idea - but that wasn't what lived inside him. What lived there was secret to almost all, save one. And that other one didn't know everything about Lancelot. And if the first knight had anything to say about, then that might not change. It might be less painful that way. Closeness was death. Trust was dangerous, and love was ....
Lancelot smiled over the pup's head; it was nice to have a brother, he thought - and would die before he'd admit that. Galahad was lucky to have the broad blonde to back him up. Lancelot wondered again about the closeness some of his fellows seemed to share - and then dismissed the idea with a shake of his head. That way lay madness. They were close to the infirmary; Lancelot's step increased, and his hold on the young knight in his and Gawain's grip grew more snug as they almost attained their goal. Then -
Lancelot couldn't help a smile, and his laugh was dark and low. "My love, I couldn't have said it better myself. He's a dangerous and fiesty one, and you'd best have a care around this particular Sarmatian. You see this shiner? Where else would it have come from?" He guided the other two around the girl and to the door of the infirmary. "If you wish, help us. Otherwise, leave off with the questions, yes?" Lancelot didn't owe any answers to anyone, least of all a Woad girl. Well, there was Arthur, but...that lie would come in time. Lancelot was a lying expert. He bit his lip and wondered if he could look into Arthur's heavily lashed green eyes and fabricate a story - now, after everything they'd been through and had said. "Come on, pup," he said wearily. "Let's get this fixed." |
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| golden_trillium | Apr 6 2010, 06:04 PM Post #39 |
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Author: golden_trillium Date: Sun Jul 06, 2008 6:10 pm Merlin and Tristan
Merlin arched a skeptical eyebrow, as he peered once again through the doorway of the hut, confused at first by the reference to "the other". The slave, having percieved the Woad leader's intentions, moved to the side just a fraction his eyes still eerily watchful and emotionless- but the slight movement and a shift from the living captives inside allowed Merlin to see the unmoving feet and legs of what looked like another fallen warrior. Casualties of war? If they had found these men tied, they had killed him defenseless, like a dog! Was there no honor in these Roman scum? Merlin's cheek twitched and his eyes hardened, but that was the only outward sign of his anger as Scipio, sickeningly smug, continued.
Merlin shook his head defiantly, his jaw set, all resistance and solidity. "I will say nothing more until my men are freed," he stated, with a nod towards the living captives. Two out of the five lost...and those had been good men! "If you found them bound, then you can have no quarrel with them. They haven't harmed you." As he finished speaking, a sudden flash of movement, low down and blonde-colored, caught the Woad leader's eye, and he turned his head quickly to see Eala- of all people! A surge of mingled relief and annoyance surged through Merlin's frame- dash from the group of warriors at his back and dart into the open space between the hut and the remaining Roman horseback. Quick as a flash, Merlin's hand shot out and made a grab for the girl's shoulder strap, making to haul her back from whatever mischief she was about to get into. At least she appeared unharmed, though- and that accounted for both of the captives, freed, though not the rescue party. And Nolan still hadn't returned. Merlin shot Neeria a quick, sharp, questioning glance, inviting her to explain if she knew more, while he pulled Eala backwards in one motion towards the rest of the Woads- Neeria, Ceinwyn, and Juna. Hopefully someone would keep her out of trouble. Linnette and Linnesse
Without even looking directly at Drake, Linnette half-saw- or really more like felt- his offer to take the bag and turned her head to give him a half-smile of thanks and a brief shake of her head. She had it from here- he had already fetched and carried for her far more than he had to, and Linnesse's medicine bag was no burden. Her eyes met his in an easy and appreciative refusal, though, causing Linnesse- unseen by her sister- to once again knit her eyebrows together in confusion. What in the world made Drake so solicitious of Linnette, anyway? Why had he worked all afternoon moving not only Linnette's own things, but Linnesse's and Derfel's as well? What was he hoping to get out of this? There must be something! Linnesse held her tongue for now, though, and the trio made their way down the corridor in silence. At first, Linnette thought nothing of the way there were going, though she had traversed it before today, but as they got closer, it began to nag at the back of her mind, and by the time they were five doors away, the conclusion was unmistakeable. This was the end of a corridor- there was nowhere left to go, and the second door from the end was Drake's new room, where he had patched up her hand earlier that morning. She remembered it well- and now here was Drake, opening the door at the very end of the corridor and holding it for them, ushering them in with a grunted "here"- to the apartment right next to his. Linnette felt a squirm of something like apprehension in her belly, for reasons she could not even explain, and shot Drake a glance of sudden, worried realization as she approached the doorway- and Linnesse picked up on her sudden tension and stopped in her track, looking questioningly at Linnette. "What is it? Is something wrong?" Linnette, feeling very on-the-spot now- for so what if Drake's room was next door, what reason was that to worry?- ducked her head and flushed a little, shaking her head. "Nothing," she muttered- but Linnesse had seen her sister's eyes flick uneasily to the room next to theirs, whose door was cracked, and Linnesse, feeling a sudden surge of protectiveness not unlike that which had possessed her the time she had kicked that Woad who was tussling with Balin during that first attack on the fort- and gotten broken toes in the bargain!- suddenly broke ranks with her sister and marched forward, pushing open the door of the room that Linnette had eyed so warily. It was bare, nearly. No one was inside- in fact, it scarcely looked to be inhabited. But there was a water pitcher, and a mattress on the bed, and on the floor, sitting haphazaradly in the center of the room, was a pair of bulging saddlebags that looked very suspiciously like the ones Drake had been carrying that morning, when he had brought Linnette in from the wall. Like? They were exactly the same! "Was this on purpose?" Linnesse suddenly demanded, whirling from the doorway of Drake's room and facing the soldier, hands on her hips, head cocked to look up at him. He was an intimidating man, with a stone-hard face, and Linnesse felt her heart flutter in her chest at his forbidding look, but she carried on, determined to defend her sister, who needed her- and Derfel was only a shout away. She could hear the tap of tools from inside the new quarters. "What do you want from her?" she continued, oblivious to the pained look on Linnette's face, the shake of her sister's head that begged her to desist that line of questioning. |
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| golden_trillium | Apr 6 2010, 06:05 PM Post #40 |
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Author: LadyCastus Date: Sun Jul 06, 2008 7:45 pm Neeria Neeria waited with baited breath waiting for Merlin's response. She tugged at the too-big trousers she was wearing and pulled up the sleeves of the tunic. She stamped the ground with the toe of her boot. Her face was clear and she showed no emotion, she held her chest out and waited her fate.
Neeria turned and looked at the optio. How she hated him.
Neeria craned her neck to see past the optio, inside the hut. As Tristan moved to the side, Neeria saw feet on the ground. Her eyes widened with surprise and she jerked back around, looking at Merlin, her mouth open. She had no idea there was another dead man in the hut.
Just then, sudden movement erupted in the trees and...Eala ran out! Neeria gasped when she saw the woad child. She had made it! She made it out of the dungeons! Ash had done it! He had rescued her! Neeria sighed with relief and even produced a half-smile at the girl as Merlin pulled her back behind him. Then Merlin looked directly at Neeria with a unspoken question in his eyes. Merlin was a like a father to her and Neeria knew him well. She knew exactly what he wanted to know. "She was not alone," Neeria said guardedly, "I was with her, Merlin, as well as the spirit of our people. That spirit lives and breathes. I have seen it." She knew Merlin would understand her meaning. Neeria knew he would understand that she had seen the rescue party. She didn't dare mention names and let the Romans know who was involved and how. If they knew the rescue party had penetrated the wall, there would be serious trouble and Neeria knew her people had already suffered many casualties. They needed time to regroup. She locked eyes with Merlin and nodded slightly, hoping he would understand. |
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| golden_trillium | Apr 6 2010, 06:07 PM Post #41 |
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Author: Elessars Girl Date: Sun Jul 06, 2008 8:12 pm Arthur Darya seemed unaffected by Arthur’s rather sardonic confirmation that he was aware that the two women knew each other….or had the small smile on her lips that had slipped away as the Sarmatian moved around the bed to sit opposite Eyla been only coincidence? No matter as Arthur was confident they had met…..and undoubtedly the encounter had been more than platonic in nature. A fitting reward for allowing him to…..
The Sarmatian’s clear affection for him and anxious tone allowed Arthur to set aside – if only briefly – the image in his mind of just how ‘intimately’ the two had known one another. “No, not yet,” Arthur answered rather quietly as he returned his gaze to Darya’s concerned expression…if only momentarily. Eyla’s sultry voice disrupted what should have been a private exchange between….lovers. Arthur cleared his throat and allowed his gaze to fall to the hand Darya had gently placed on his thigh. Something from her felt….off. But what was it? Had Darya been with Eyla again while the Commander had been away on the mission? Had his lover found solace in the arms of the ‘harlot’ yet again? Or had it been simply the need for a constant source of pleasure as it appeared to be for him?
’Beauty?’ Arthur opened his mouth to protest, but was quickly silenced by the continued interaction between the two women. The wound in his side twinged again which forced the Commander to visibly wince and give added pressure over his sutures. However despite his discomfort, Arthur inwardly rolled his eyes at the thinly veiled possessive tone in both of their voices. Why was it that anyone the Roman allowed into his bed then felt compelled to ‘claim’ him? That notion immediately grated on Arthur’s pride and dignity. A small sigh of frustration accompanied the now mildly annoyed expression that dominated the Roman’s unshaven features.
A flare of anger lit up the golden flakes in Arthur’s emerald eyes as his gaze snapped to Eyla’s rather mischievous expression. Sweet encounter? Arthur’s jaw tensed to the point of cracking as the confirmation he’d so vehemently sought that night was finally given from Eyla’s ruby red lips. His head throbbed and the muscles in his thigh constricted beneath Darya’s touch. A touch from his ‘lover’ that Arthur was now certain he’d shared with Eyla….and most likely Lancelot as well. God has damned me for my own previous sins with yet another lover who cannot be faithful in return. How appropriate.
Arthur had had enough of the pointless and flippant banter between the two ‘ladies’ on either side of him. “I fully intend to rest now,” Arthur said before either woman could speak again; his voice clipped with anger as his brilliant emerald eyes focused on the fire in the hearth pointedly ignoring both their dark eyes in the process. He angrily sighed and continued…. “Unless both of you have any brilliant ideas on how all of us can be quiet and rest, I'd ask - most politely - for some peace…Ladies." Arthur finished with a tight-lipped smile without turning to look at either of them and then slid a little further down on the bed and shut his eyes before he was forced to meet either of their expressions. Truly Arthur wanted nothing more than sleep right now; certainly no more ‘thinking’ or ‘feeling’. And if using a curt tone with both Eyla and Darya would finally allow Arthur some of that much needed rest…then so be it. He obstinately crossed his strong arms over his broad chest and exhaled through his nose completely unwilling to hear a word in reproach from either. |
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| golden_trillium | Apr 6 2010, 06:09 PM Post #42 |
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Author: sabor ice Date: Mon Jul 07, 2008 3:18 am Mordred & Ash The situation was becoming more tedious by the second, and Mordred grew restless and irritated by the lack of progress being made between Merlin and Amadeus. Requests were being laid out left and right but neither were complying with the demands of the other, each desperately seeking the higher ground. There could be no compromise here, only a battle for dominance, for control. Surely the Optio had foreseen this! Cooperation was unlikely - on either side. Merlin could not be reasoned with. They had offered a temporary truce with the Woad leader, and he had deceived them unprovoked! Mordred bit his tongue 'til he tasted blood, forbidding himself to utter a word. His interference would have achieved nothing, if not made matters worse. Merlin clearly had the upper hand - he could've ordered their executions at any moment. As of the moment, the Woad leader owned their lives. It was up to the Optio to convince him to spare them. Mordred was relatively faithless, though. He was not the type to put too much stock in the capabilities of others, especially when his life was laid out on the line. He believed in sheer brute force, in his sword - that was power, not persuasion! Wordy negotiation was futile when the enemy was both intelligent and also untrustworthy. A flash of blonde hair caught the knight's attention, and dark eyes momentarily swiveled from the two leaders to fall upon the defiant little spitfire just feet away. Oh, he recognized her alright - the little Woad bitch he had had tossed into the dungeons. Mordred scoffed in utter disbelief that the inept soldiers at the fort had allowed her to seemingly escape so easily. However the irony to be faced with his former prisoner at such a time as this was enough to bring a touch of dark amusement to his soulless eyes. It was tempting for him to spit out something provoking toward Eala, but the knight valued his own life, and so he kept silent. His gaze spoke what words did not, though, as he watched Merlin thrust the girl back into the protective bosom of his followers. The male that had appeared with the girl stood near her, bringing a hand up to rest on Eala's shoulder, staying her movements. His penetrating dark eyes met Mordred's, and suddenly the knight completely understood the challenge behind the older Woad's defensiveness - the girl was his. Mordred ran his tongue across the front of his teeth and gave a dull, lop-sided smirk. Milan
That was an odd sort of question. But, that was the way Mari was. She kept him guessing. It was fascinating to listen to her. The way her mind worked seemed so different than anyone he had ever met. She was vibrant, thoughtful, hopeful, seemingly unhindered by the evils threatening to plague her. She thought things he would never even consider. Her world seemed beautiful, a far cry from the damaged one Milan lived in. Just when he thought he may have figured her out even a little bit, she'd ask him a question out of the blue, one that to some might've been as simple to answer as opening a door, but for Milan it brought on a whole new level of critical thinking. His lips formed a pensive line, his blue eyes looking over the top of her head as he considered her inquiry a few moments. "Small..." he finally said. He frowned, looking back at her, wondering if she would be displeased with his answer. It was the truth - when he was younger, he had been smaller. He didn't know what else to say. His memories were not so rich. There were holes. So many things about his youth he had tried to forget, all painful. He remembered them vividly in dreams, which was why he never slept peacefully. Milan sighed, adjusting his arms around Mari's slight form, his embrace looser than before as he peered again down his nose at her. "S..scared..." he admitted quietly, bowing his head. Yes, he had been scared when he was younger, and he was even moreso now. Somehow he believed it was something to be ashamed of. |
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| golden_trillium | Apr 6 2010, 06:10 PM Post #43 |
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Author: Kayla Date: Mon Jul 07, 2008 3:56 am Fiona Fiona kept her eyes trained on Gawain for most of the few moments that she stood there, her gaze flickering to Galahad every once in a while. She cocked her head to the side and looked at him, a frown on her face at the raggedness of the group. Obviously, she had missed out on something; what it was, she didn't know. And of course, her curiousity didn't stop the question from tumbling out of her mouth and for a moment, she had to wonder who would answer it or if it would be answered at all. She half-expected Gawain to speak up, since the two knew each other but it was Galahad that answered her first.
The woad's frown deepened, her brows knitting together on her forehead and her mouth hanging open slightly for just a moment. She hadn't expected that kind of reaction from him. He had at least seemed not to mind when she was around and she truthfully had nothing against him, although she did remember when they had fought during the battle - it was the reason she'd spent some time in the dungeon. Fiona stood there for a moment, not quite sure whether that was her answer and if she should just go, until the First Knight spoke, emitting a low laugh first. The girl's blue eyes turned up towards his, and she blew a breath out of her mouth, scattering the stray pieces of hair in different directions as she recieved her answer. She thought. The woad simply nodded her head when he spoke of her helping them - not asking her, but leaving it open for her to decide. She didn't mind helping, after all, maybe it would get her mind off of Ash and Eala and the hope that they had gotten out. She might have been living in the fort but it didn't mean that some of her loyalties didn't lie with her people. And especially not when a child, one only a few years younger than herself, was involved. But telling her to leave the questions alone was near impossible for her. Sure, she could leave them alone for a while but they'd be lucky if she didn't start bombarding them with questions about various things, not to be annoying but simply to feed her mind and her thoughts about things. The trio started moving towards the door of the infirmary and Fiona simply followed, listening and waiting until she knew if she was truly needed or not. |
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| golden_trillium | Apr 6 2010, 06:11 PM Post #44 |
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Author: Pinkie Date: Mon Jul 07, 2008 5:12 am Drake Drake didn't say a word of protest against Linnette holding the bag herself. Had he been her lover, her husband or anything close to it he might have put up an argument, or more likely, he would have just taken the bag. But to Linnette Drake was nothing. He was someone who was there when she turned around, someone she could depend on to pick her up if she fell. But he had no rights upon her, no entitlements. He had no entitlements to feel anything for her either, and yet he did. But such things he could keep severely wrapped up in his hard heart. When Linnette looked at him Drake could slowly feel his grip on the situation sliding. He tensed his jaw and looked into Linnette's apprehensive eyes. It seemed like the rest of the corridor spiralled inwards towards her pretty hazel eyes and Drake didn't look away until she did. Linnesse had noticed. There was a sense of bubbling water reaching boiling point...
Drake took a step away from the wall he had been standing against and looked on as Linnesse threw open the door to his room. She looked around and the Spaniard did not try halt her, he just remained stiff, watching as she stormed out and gave him a look that would singe the hairs on the tail of a dog. It did nothing to Drake. He already felt bloody wrong about all this to begin with, nothing Linnesse could say would change that... except something did. At first the Spaniard just looked at her with a blank, almost dismissively bored look to his green eyes. His lips were not tight, but nor did they look animated. They did not look capable of parting to speak at all - and they did not. Drake blinked slowly. Her accusation was nothing compared to her demanding question. That did make Drake react. As soon as the words had left her lips his eyes had turned almost black with anger and they snapped down to her face. He looked down at her silently for a long moment and flexed his fingers, the joints cracking noisily. What did he want from her? What did he want from Linnette? Drake had thought he wanted nothing from her but the emotions, feelings and thoughts that her demand conjured made him reconsider his own mind. He did want something from Linnette - but it was not something he could, or ever would, vocalise. He wanted her to be happy. He wanted her to be safe because he had not been able to make Cecile happy or safe. He wanted her baby to be healthy and secure, happy because he had so badly failed his own children. He was not assuming any role in her life, he was unable to do that emotionally and so he did not presume it physically, so he did what he could. He helped where he could. Furious, emerald eyes lifted to stare at a point above Linnesse's head, lips set in a wicked line of contained anger. Drake looked like a soldier rebuked, he looked like a man being read the riot act and knowing he did not deserve it - and yet he took it with relatively good grace, not answering back, not throwing insults or punches. He took the abuse that he knew he did not deserve but what the other person thought he did. |
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| golden_trillium | Apr 6 2010, 06:13 PM Post #45 |
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Author: Kay Date: Mon Jul 07, 2008 6:45 am Guinevere Guinevere strained her ears, but the noise she had heard before seemd to have stopped. Maybe she was mistaken and no one had heard the fight.
Guinevere's attention was drawn back to the crazed girl, who even now was trying to strike out at her and was sliding across the leaf litter in an effort to reach the princess. Amazingly, Mona managed to drag herself upright and lurched forward, but she was too weak and fell to the ground once more. The princess glared down at the sad heap on the ground and shook her head. So much hate and bitterness, Guinevere thought. How long had this been boiling away inside the girl? "I thought we were sisters in arms" Guinevere said, sadly. "All these years we have trained together, fought together; Neeria, you and I. It's all come to this!" The princess bent down and grasped Mona's clothing; she met no resistance. "My father will deal with you now" she said, firmly, and began to drag the hapless girl through the forest. As they approached the site of the encampment, Guinevere was aware of voices, growing ever louder as she moved closer. So this is where Neeria was leading them thought the princess. She let go of Mona, leaving the girl in bloodied heap and crept toward the clearing. Peering through the leaves of a nearby bush, she was shocked to see so many people; Woads, soldiers; Neeria was there, as she had suspected. But so was Ash! And Eala! And..her father! Sensing that hostilities had been suspended here, Guinevere drew herself up to her full height and stepped out into the clearing. "Father" she said. Grace Grace leaned forward against her stall, propping her elbows on the edge of the wood. It was quiet this afternoon. She glanced over toward the infirmary, idly wondering if the gruff, messy man with the headache, had found what he was looking for.Suddenly, she saw three figures; three bloodied and battered figures, making their way toward the infirmary, followed by a woman. Grace drew in a sharp breath as she recognised the very brute who had snapped at her earlier in the day. He had been in a fight from the looks of him! That beast of a man seemed to be everywhere in this awful place. She shook her head. They have surely been drinking, she thought; her mind going back to the tavern brawl that had robbed her of her fiance. Men are such savages! She shuddered and turned her face away, wishing she were safe at home with her lotions and potions. And yet, for some unknown reason, she shot another quick glance at the blond haired man, before scolding herself for being foolish and hastily moving her chair around so she could no longer see the infirmary door. |
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