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| July 2008 | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Apr 3 2010, 09:33 PM (2,363 Views) | |
| golden_trillium | Apr 6 2010, 06:14 PM Post #46 |
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Author: TwistOfShadows Date: Mon Jul 07, 2008 7:33 am Eyla Relationships? Loyalty? Affection? Commitment? Eyla saw all of these flicker across Darya’s soft expression, and she pitied the woman. The harlot had learnt many lessons in her young lifetime, and she knew men were not worth growing weak for. Relationships dried up after a season, and the men were left wanting more…exquisite things. She had also bedded enough married men to know that their wives remained unsatisfied and lonely…who would want that? Every kind of man visited Eyla, because men were weak for sex and pleasure…and desperate. Eyla knew how to manipulate; she knew how to toy with smiles and flirtatious glances. She knew how to inspire need in her patrons. Was Darya blessed with such a skill? Eyla doubted it, but she had the potential to be. She was pretty enough. The harlot watched the woman through her silken dark curls, and blinked lazily, pensively. Her delicate hands rested against her skirts, fingering the soft material between her fingertips. She parted her lips for amusement, and watched the happy couple, fascinated. Oh she was not jealous! Not at all. Eyla knew she was not pure or honest enough to enter into a commitment of the heart, nor was she weak enough…
Oh, he was awake! A smug and satisfied smile slipped across the harlot’s lips. He had truly heard everything and she was pleased. She looked intensely at Darya, and then turned slowly to Arthur. He sounded angry, completely unimpressed, and Eyla knew why. It was not her fault, not truly, but it was always amusing to sow the seed of doubt. And why not? Darya would learn from it and become a better lover. The harlot released her skirts, and got obediently to her feet. The smile remained upon her full and red lips, and her eyes glittered mischievously. The woman inclined her head, allowing her hair to fall beautifully around her slender shoulders and bosom. She curtseyed, low and formally…knowing that Arthur did not like such shows of subservience. “As you wish, Artorius,” she spoke sweetly, spinning honey from her lips. She looked up at them through thick eyelashes, and her lips lilted into a wider smile. The Roman looked defensive, annoyed, impatient, and Eyla was happy to depart. For now. She would not stay, but neither would Darya. Gods, the Sarmatian must hate her! The situation was perfect. She spoke again, lifting her chin prettily. “I am…as always…your most humble and obedient servant. You know where to send if you need me.” Eyla’s words were feigned and mocking. She knew this was a formal way to greet someone of a higher status, but it did not suit her. She spoke too playfully, too suggestively, and she lifted her brows at Darya, clipping the comment with ill intent. “I’m sure we will meet again, Beauty.” Eyla turned on her heel, with a swish of skirts and curly hair…but she did not leave yet. She looked over her naked shoulder flirtatiously, at both of them… |
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| golden_trillium | Apr 6 2010, 06:17 PM Post #47 |
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Author: golden_trillium Date: Mon Jul 07, 2008 10:21 am Merlin
Ah...Merlin grasped Neeria's meaning, understood her significant look. She referred to the rescuers, of course- they were alive, and she had seen them. All of them? That question nagged at his mind as he lifted his chin and gave Neeria a barely perceptible nod of acknowledgement, but it was not one he could voice right now. A second later, though, part of that question was answered- Ash stepped out from the group of Woads at Merlin's back and took charge of Eala, laying his hand on the girl's shoulder and giving the Romans in the clearing a defiant look. Particularly the knight on the horse, Merlin noted- there seemed to be something personal there. He would ask about that, later, too. For now, though, he turned back to Scipio, intending to press the point of the release of his still-bound men- when another sound in the brush at the edge of the clearing caught his attention, and another of the "spirits" showed itself.
"Daughter." Merlin felt a start of surprise at Guinevere's appearance- and alone, too!- but he restrained it, not wishing to give away anything of the apparently successful rescue plans to the Romans. And Nolan and his small group hadn't reappeared either, and he was beginning to worry about that- but instead of showing any of that on his face, he schooled himself to remain impassive as he beckoned his daughter forward, to stand at his side if she wished. "We were just discussing the release of my men...well, Scipio?" Merlin arched an eyebrow and indicated the bound Woads again. Once the men were freed, they could tell who had bound them so (and Merlin was privately thinking that it had indeed been the Romans, for who else could it have been?), and then perhaps they could proceed with whatever message the Roman was so keen to deliver. Linnesse and Linnette Drake said nothing. He did not answer her question, did not even open his mouth, but Linnesse could see the anger rise in his face, till his eyes blazed with it, boring into her, and she was frozen with it, unable to move or speak anymore, merely staring at him with wide, alarmed eyes. She felt like she had when Darya had drawn that knife on her- or like she had so often when R...there was a sudden, sinister cracking noise, and Linnesse, suddenly unfrozen, jumped back with an audible squeak, fully expecting to be struck- but it was Linnette who touched her, Linnette who appeared at her side, tucking an arm around her sister's shoulders. Linnesse, the release of tension washing over her like a wave, turned towards Linnette and dropped her eyes from Drake, taking a deep breath and trying to push the fear away- she shouldn't leave Linnette to deal with this man herself! But Linnette didn't seem afraid- only annoyed. She rubbed Linnesse's shoulder lightly and soothingly with her hand, but Linnesse could sense exasperation in her manner- and hear it in her voice. "Linnesse...he doesn't want anything. I offered to pay him for his trouble and he refused." The little white lie rolled swiftly and easily off Linnette's tongue, seized upon as something that might help defuse the situation. In reality, she had made no such offer- but neither had it seemed called for, and she was sure that if such an offer was made, Drake would have refused. That wasn't...that wasn't the nature of their relationship, if it could be called that. "And Drake..." Linnette raised her eyes to Drake now, meeting his gaze unflinchingly. His anger wasn't directed at her, and it didn't scare her- it just made her bad-tempered. There was no reason for him to be angry at Linnesse- couldn't Drake see that she was as harmless as a mouse? "Don't scare her like that. She's very sensitive." "Linnette!" Linnesse's head popped up, exclaiming indignantly and drawing herself up to argue the point- but Linnette pointed a stern finger at her sister. "You are. And you…” Linnette’s head and pointing finger snapped back to Drake again. “You really are going to break your teeth someday.” Her hand, no longer pointing, began to reach towards Drake, tempted to grab his lower jaw and shake it loose- but it only got halfway there before she dropped it again. That was silly, and he wouldn’t appreciate it at all. “Linnette, I really don’t think…” Linnesse began indignantly- and carefully not looking at Drake- but Linnette shushed her with a firm shake of her head. The last thing she wanted was to listen to more arguments now. “Let’s go unpack,” she stated firmly, almost in a growl, and, brooking no more resistance, steered them through the doorway of their new home- turning a curt nod of thanks toward Drake as she did so. |
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| golden_trillium | Apr 6 2010, 06:19 PM Post #48 |
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Author: Darya Date: Mon Jul 07, 2008 11:37 am Darya
Right, now that did not make anything better. Where was the healer? Or would it be Jols who would bring something to eat? Gods, if she had known this, she could have brought something from the tavern herself. The woman’s full lips pressed into a thin line at Arthur’s reply. He would never recover if he would not get something to eat soon, something to help his body to regain strength. The dark-haired sighed and stiffly licked her lips… …before Eyla demanded a good part of her attention. And even though Darya usually tended to consider the other woman’s company a pleasant distraction from all the dark things that mostly occupied the life at Badon Hill, right now, Eyla’s presence only ruined everything the Sarmatian had so carefully formed in her mind…about what how to best phrase something that might make things even more difficult. And just when Darya parted her lips to something, the Commander suddenly spoke…
Oh, Darya knew that tone in Arthur’s voice…and it was not her favourite one. And she had felt him tense under her touch earlier of that. Not good. This was all so wrong…again. And when Eyla stood and started her show, the dark Sarmatian fought hard to not roll her eyes…but for the first time briefly glared at the other woman. Yes, she was upset…upset because the harlot had made everything even more complicated than it already was. And what made it even worse was that Eyla obviously enjoyed all this… However, all the female Sarmatian did was removing her hand from Arthur’s thigh…but she did not stand or move otherwise. She had absolutely no intention to leave. She finally wanted a few moments alone with Arthur. With no healer, no knights, no Optios and certainly no harlots around. She needed some time alone with the Commander…and if to merely watch him resting only. That would at least give her time to find the right words for all the other things that had yet to be said…somehow. Darya straightened her back a little and lifted her chin slightly. “Rest…”, she addressed her lover in an unusually firm voice that left little room for discussion…at least for her, “…but I will stay. At least until Neeve returns…with or without food. You need to eat…” A pause… “You will have to order me to go if that is what you truly want…”, Darya then added quietly, for Arthur’s ears only and her dark gaze lingered intently on him for a long moment. Only at Eyla’s very last words to her, the Sarmatian shot a brief , rather dark glance at the harlot…but decided to remain silent. No matter what she would have said, it most certainly would have been either rude…or too easy to misinterpret. No, it was the safest thing to not say anything at all right now… |
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| golden_trillium | Apr 6 2010, 06:21 PM Post #49 |
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Author: Elessars Girl Date: Mon Jul 07, 2008 2:39 pm Arthur Arthur felt a slight movement on the bed but did not bother to re-open his eyes to discover the source of it. However, at hearing the soft swishing sound of Eyla’s linen skirt as she moved Arthur concluded that the harlot had been the one to retreat. He also felt Darya’s tiny hand lift away from his thigh…no doubt in reaction to the Roman’s angry tone at demanding a little ‘quiet’. But who could blame him? Arthur was hardly up to further games with Eyla and certainly not patient enough to deal with the ‘relationship’ between the two women present. Not now. However, once Arthur had recovered enough for a serious discussion with Darya on the matter….these indiscretions would end one way or another. After all, Arthur had severed the part of his relationship with Lancelot that had mattered most…for Darya (or so he told himself). She was either going to do the same or there would no longer be a place in Arthur’s heart for her either. No more infidelities and pain…no more. Love was risk enough in this volatile life. Love had made Arthur vulnerable…and far too exposed.
There it was again…’Beauty”….the endearment and the honeyed tone of Eyla’s voice as she addressed Darya made Arthur’s gut churn and his head throb again. He heard nothing else the harlot had spoken….and prayed she would no longer address Darya with such familiarity in his presence. Arthur’s fingers formed fists beneath his arms and he had to work hard to keep his expression unreadable as the anger threatened to overpower his physical discomfort.
Darya’s uncompromising tone had no effect on Arthur, and neither had Eyla’s obvious baiting words moments ago. If either of them thought him foolish and blind to what was between them…or what they each wanted of him…. God, grand me patience and strength. I am in such need of your mercy now. “I will order the both of you to leave if that is the only way I may find a little rest,” Arthur answered flatly and loud enough for Eyla to hear his words of warning as well. The Commander’s eyes had remained shut but he’d not heard the door, thus he assumed his ‘chamber maid’ had not actually left. Perhaps Darya had not deserved Arthur’s harsh tone either….but if the Commander was going to recover he needed rest now.….even at the expense of sending his lover away yet again today. Something seemed to nag at Arthur’s subconscious…something beyond the irritants brought on by Darya and Eyla’s ‘relationship’ or even the way Lancelot had uncharacteristically coddled him earlier. The Commander had not been able to determine exactly ‘what’ troubled him….but he half expected a frantic knock at the door at any moment with yet another urgent matter brought to his attention and requiring his focus. Had the Optio found success with Merlin? Or had it been a devastating mistake to send Scipio in Arthur’s place? “Wake me should Neeve return…or should word come of an urgent matter, hm?” Arthur said to Darya in a softer tone as he exhaled again and attempted to relax; his eyes remained closed and arms remained firmly crossed over his chest. If either woman were to continue to go against his wishes, Arthur was resolved to dismiss them both. Darya’s presence while he slept was welcome as the Roman did find it comforting. But Eyla…..the harlot’s presence was something else entirely…and Arthur had not the physical strength to deal with her promiscuous games today. |
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| golden_trillium | Apr 6 2010, 06:22 PM Post #50 |
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Author: lady ione Date: Mon Jul 07, 2008 4:29 pm Brendyn He approached the wall of the fort. Somehow, if she was to escape at all, she could have done so through a busy servant's gate posing as a child to any of the servants passing through. This was his deduction as he began to move along the ground level of the wall. All of the gates were well guarded normally, and this was true of Aesica...no gate had ever been left unattended. Moving a bit further from the courtyard and toward a smaller gate used by civilians, but should have been guarded still. He stopped short when he found the small gate had been left open. Brendyn looked down at where his boots stood on the pavement inside the fort, and left his deep blue eyes travel toward the outside of the fort at the dirt and gravel. Brendyn's eyes rested on a certain set of prints in the mud...Odd... And they were odd looking, but he could not be certain that they were from the wounded woad, or woads. Stepping closer, Brendyn remembered the training he had gotten where situations like this were concerned. All of the gates should be shut at all times, and people coming and going from any fort within the wall should be checked by a guard....he saw no guards. Odder yet. Checking to see if there had been a malfunction of the lock, jimmying the lock to open it, or it was just left ajar. Brendyn looked about for a superior officer to report his findings to for he felt that if he left, someone else would disrupt the scene that he felt was significant in his findings.... |
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| golden_trillium | Apr 6 2010, 06:23 PM Post #51 |
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Author: LadyCastus Date: Mon Jul 07, 2008 7:04 pm Mona Mona was barely conscious when Guinevere dragged her threw the forest. The girl's deranged mind made her believe that she was on a cloud floating through sky. She even giggled. Somewhere in the back of her mind, where only a glimmer of sanity remained, she mourned the person she once was. But it was only a glimmer. The savage hatred took control of her thoughts again and all she could hope for was Guinevere's and Neeria's deaths. Unfortunately however, her body would not yield to her commands to get up and fight. Instead, her body felt heavy, tired and in pain. A sudden jolt made her realize that she wasn't floating on the cloud, but instead, she was being dragged over rocks, tree stumps, broken nuts. Just as she was about to protest, the dragging stopped. The only audible sound was the rush of the wind. Where was she? She couldn't remember. Mona lay on her back, looking up at the treetops swaying in the cold wind and she began to laugh. And laugh. And laugh. Finally, when she stopped laughing, she began to cry. The sobs came in such ferocious waves, they shook her whole body. Mona rolled over into a fetal position and cried. She didn't know why she was crying, but she relished the emotional release. She went to wipe her eyes, only to find her hands still covered in her own blood. Why was she bleeding? Guinevere! She suddenly remembered. Mona raised her head only to see that Guinevere had left her. She was all alone! Suddenly desperate and afraid, Mona rolled onto her stomach and began to slither and slide across the ground. She perked her ears and listened. She heard voices! Moving, crawling, sliding closer to the sound, Mona finally broke through the trees. Her crazy eyes widened at the sight. There was a celebration going on and everyone was there! Mona suddenly became very excited. The war must be over. They had been victorious! Of course! There was Merlin, standing tall and proud waiting for her! There he was and only, she counted. One..two..three..., three Romans left standing and a slave! Merlin had done it! "Merlin!" she said, full of emotion. The insane woman pulled herself to her feet and pushed past the gathered woads, past Guinevere, trying to make her way to Merlin. As she grew closer to him, her face twisted into maniacal grin as the blood from her wounds flowed freely. |
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| golden_trillium | Apr 6 2010, 06:25 PM Post #52 |
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Author: golden_trillium Date: Mon Jul 07, 2008 7:54 pm Quintus They hadn’t found her. It was damnably frustrating, and more so every second. Quintus had heard reports from men who had searched all over the fortress, had gone through most of two buildings himself with a small group- but they hadn’t found her. One tiny slip of a biting devil girl, gone. Disappeared, almost into thin air. A patrol sent out to cover the road in front of the fort had found nothing either- and they couldn’t proceed very far into the woods for fear of jeopardizing the Optio’s negotiation mission. Though, really, Quintus didn’t see how the girl could have gotten out of the fort at all in the first place. She had to be here somewhere, only she wasn’t! Quintus was practically grinding his teeth with frustration as, with four men at his back, he approached the end of one of the streets, just under the wall, intending to turn into the next and continue the fruitless hunt. His attention was arrested, though, by the sight of the new soldier, Brendyn, still filthy from whatever he had been doing before starting the search, standing a bit uncertainly at the end of the street, as though looking for something…and next to him, the small wicket gate that the Woads had come through during the last attack, which had been damaged and then hastily repaired- but apparently not well enough. With a terrible, sinking feeling gripping his guts, the Centurion advanced on the hapless Brendyn, growling out a demand for an explanation. “What’s this? Report, Soldier!” |
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| golden_trillium | Apr 6 2010, 06:25 PM Post #53 |
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Author: lady ione Date: Mon Jul 07, 2008 8:54 pm Brendyn He dared not touch anything on the already ruined gate until someone else had a chance to look over the site as well. Damn it all anyway! Thus a small impish woad makes fools of us all... Brendyn thought wryly. He had not been at the fort when the attack had begun, but the gate looked as though it had been hastily repaired and not in the best of shapes. The young soldier knew little of architect, though he had seen builders at work....Perhaps this gate could use a professional touch when things calmed down...
....Brendyn came about to face the Centurion, and gave him a salute before reporting what he had found. "Sir, I came upon this gate just as you see it. I think the woads escaped by this route as it would have been chancy for them to go through a guarded gate....with all of the chaos, it is possible that no one saw them leave this way." He stated. Pointing to two certain sets of foot prints in the wet dirt, Brendyn brought his eyes to meet Quintus's. "I cannot be certain, but there are some footprints in the mud just past here. They could be anyones, but I wought they should be pointed out...." Standing at attention in his grimy state, Brendyn looked at the ground as if in thought, then looked up into Quintus's eyes, "Sir, neither of us were here when the fort was attacked. This gate was not repaired well, though even so, would there have been guards posted here?" It was presumputous for him to even say so, and it'd possibly get him into trouble for saying so, but in every fort he had ever served in, all of the gates had guards. Gods above! Something had to go right for him to make up for any blunder he had made since arriving at he fort... He waited for Quintus to check over what he had reported. |
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| golden_trillium | Apr 6 2010, 06:29 PM Post #54 |
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Author: linnet Date: Mon Jul 07, 2008 9:26 pm Gawain
Gawain looked around and then gave Lancelot a questioning glance, not sure what the sudden angry outburst was for. It wasn’t unusual for the First Knight to act like he was pissed off at the whole world, venting his pent up emotion for no reason apparent to anyone else. But the man’s mood shifted with his next words. He actually sounded sympathetic toward Galahad. The long-haired knight tried to meet Lancelot’s eyes to show his thanks, knowing that the show of concern could pass in an instant. Lancelot’s words also satisfied Gawain that the Dark Knight would not place the fight’s blame on Galahad when Arthur probed for information. Lancelot might consider it foolish, but Gawain knew that in truth, the fault rested with him. He had suggested going to the tavern. He had begun the talk of women acting badly. He had bought the drinks. He had told Galahad to fight for Alina if he thought her worth it. He had left his friend drunk and depressed with her. He had gotten things smoldering. All it took was the spark of Kolya’s intrusion to set off the fire.
The blonde knight felt Galahad’s hand press harder against his side when he told Lancelot that he was responsible for the brawl. There would be no arguing the point now. Gawain was ready to tell his friend that they could discuss it later, but as weak and downcast as Galahad was, and with the arrival of Fiona, there was no need. The younger knight drooped further forward with each step, and Gawain had to tighten his grip to keep Galahad more or less upright as they neared the infirmary entrance.
Fiona looked a little taken aback, especially by Galahad’s rude dismissal. Gawain turned and gave her a weary smile, as she hung behind a bit, seeming uncertain of what to do. “Sorry, Fiona,” he said. “None of us are feeling too good right now.” They had arrived at the doorway, and he took a deep breath, knowing that nothing pleasant would be waiting on the other side. Gawain looked at Lancelot, wincing at seeing how painful his eye looked. “Thanks,” he said, since he didn’t know if Arthur’s first would stick around long enough to get a chance to thank once they fell victim to the infirmary denizens. Then he waited for Fiona or Lancelot to open the door. With one arm around Galahad and the other out of commission, he couldn’t do it himself. Mother Lavinia Finally, Lavinia had written the letter. It hadn’t been easy. Fleur had gotten to the old nun, and sending the endearing little girl and her sister away meant that Lavinia’s life would be a little darker and emptier. But this was the proper, Christian thing to do. The poor orphans couldn’t just live in the infirmary. What kind of childhood would that be? And with no family to care for them, and no one else stepping forward to take them in, the orphanage was the place they needed to be. The letter was written to the mother-superior of the orphanage in Londinium. Lavinia knew the woman from long ago, a dedicated, albeit strict sister. The girls would be well cared for, and with proper guidance might well be groomed to serve God as nuns. Lavinia had written of the sister’s situation, and requested that someone from the orphanage be sent to pick them up. She knew that her old acquaintance would take them in on her recommendation. She was just sealing the letter when one of her staff knocked at her closed office door. The healer was sorry to interrupt, but thought Lavinia should know that word was spreading of a prisoner escaped from the dungeons. Apparently every building and room in the fort were being searched. The nun sighed in irritation – of the interruption, and of the possibility of a search in her infirmary. Well, if they were to try, she’d best be prepared. There would be no search without her supervision. So she left her office and made her way toward the entrance, ready to intercept any nosy soldiers. |
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| golden_trillium | Apr 6 2010, 06:31 PM Post #55 |
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Author: TwistOfShadows Date: Tue Jul 08, 2008 10:27 am Eyla Eyla was enjoying herself. Too much, She looked at the happy lovers from beneath thick eyelashes, and smiled sweetly, coyly. A mockery! Oh, it was time to leave, and Eyla could hear Arthur’s patience growing thin. He had never been harsh with her, nor rude or disregarding, but he had status…and Eyla did not forget. She enjoyed flirtation, but she did not fancy losing his favour. Her curtsy had been a dramatic thing, and Eyla watched Darya’s gaze turn fiery hot. The Sarmatian was growing angry too, perhaps quicker than Arthur, but Eyla was not intimidated by her. The Sarmatian had allowed Eyla into her bed, and that was weakness enough. Eyla could not admire Darya’s strength, but she could continue to be fascinated. Why did the woman fall prey to emotion, to love? It was such a silly thing, she should know better. Love was like inviting Pain and Despair to your bed, it was vulnerability and naivety. And Eyla did not favour either… It was better to be alone, hmm? Eyla could not disappoint herself, because she loved her life. She was happy, content.
Eyla arched an eyebrow. Darya did not leave when dismissed, and it amused Eyla. The Sarmatian was attempting to be firm, but it was stupidity. Indeed, the harlot did not understand the affection between the lovers. She did not know the betrayal, the infidelities, nor the complicated nature of the Roman’s emotion. And Eyla did not care. It was not her place to know other people’s business. She only eavesdropped when it benefited her, and this conversation was growing dull. Shrugging her shoulders dramatically, Eyla did not argue. She smiled pitifully in Darya’s direction, before glancing over to Arthur. She schooled her expression to perfection…smugness. It was enough to prove a point. With a delicate swish of skirts and slippered feet, Eyla walked towards the door… “The both of you need rest. Irritability is so depressing…” She paused, reaching out to the doorhandle. Her small fingers found the bronze knob, and she opened the door. Looking back at the pair, she smiled. It was not so smug, but rather a farewell to two people she considered her patrons. “Rest well, both of you. And cheer up.” Eyla departed. The heavy door closed upon her heels, and she sauntered off along the corridor. She flicked her hair dramatically over her shoulders, and her hips seemed to dance with each step. Where to now? She did not fancy retiring to her room just yet… Ceinwyn Ceinwyn watched the events played out before her. She was highly amused by the arrogant Roman’s sudden demands, and his courage that had been reared quickly from cowardice. A Wad lay dead a few feet away, and these men had guilt etched into their every feature. Her green eyes alighted vehemently upon the Roman leader, flashing emerald fire in his direction. Romans. Pah! She was tempted to spit upon the floor in disgust. Merlin’s presence was a blessing. His sacred existence created a heavier and more intense atmosphere, and the Romans were helpless against his wisdom. She had never seen him outsmarted, never. Ceinwyn listened to Neeria’s demands, and her top lip curled in distaste. Whatever the Woad woman claimed, Ceinwyn was half maddened and Nolan had convinced her of certain things. Neeria was a traitor, and her pleas were sickly. And then it got worse. There was a sound of a skirmish, the scrape of wood against flesh, the uumph! of someone falling hard, and Ceinwyn turned. She saw Guinevere, she saw Mona, and…by god, they were all destined to fall into confusion. There was too much happening in that clearing, and Ceinwyn did not trust that it would remain under control. There were distractions at every corner. Their control would not take much to destroy… She rested a hand defensively over her dagger hilt, and lifted her chin defiantly, a pretence of strength.
Ceinwyn did not turn, not until she heard the desperate plea of Mona. The redhead saw blood, coating the other woman, and she wrinkled her nose in disgust. Indeed, Ceinwyn did not care for her wellbeing. Injuries were injuries, people died in war. Such was life. But…there was something in Mona’s voice, desperation. Ceinwyn took a step backwards...when she heard another sound behind her. Turning quickly, Nolan and his party emerged from the trees. The tall male warrior appeared angered, confusion and impatient…and he parted his lips to report back...but then his eyes alighted upon Mona. Ceinwyn looked at Merlin, then back to Mona…and lifted her eyebrows. Mona was clearly mad. Ceinwyn should know…madness and insanity had been her constant friend since last season. Although Ceinwyn did not smile. She merely gazed angrily and aggressively at anyone who dared look in her direction. And then…something else occurred. Perhaps the gods had sent Mona is this maddened state to warn them off attack? Ceinwyn’s expression darkened, and she turned to Nolan. His jaw was set hard, and she watched the man reach for his dagger. Mona was mad. Surely she should be killed…? “She is mad.” Ceinwyn spoke, her voice devoid of any emotion and feeling. “Someone had better slit her throat…” A gust of wind whipped Ceinwyn’s hair from her face… |
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| golden_trillium | Apr 6 2010, 06:33 PM Post #56 |
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Author: Darya Date: Tue Jul 08, 2008 11:27 am Darya
The dark Sarmatian chewed the inside of her cheeks and suddenly indeed considered to leave the room as well…yet she dismissed that thought almost immediately again. To back down now would perhaps put Arthur into a better mood…but also certainly only brighten the smug smile on Eyla’s face. And right now, Darya was not sure how she would react to that. She still managed to maintain a rather neutral expression herself…but that did not fit what she was feeling. Not in the least.
Those words helped at least a bit. Or was it the softer, more familiar tone they had been spoken in? Darya was not sure…but she did not have the nerve to ponder that now anyway. “Of course…”, she murmured softly and once more watched the man on the bed, who kept his eyes shut…and a small part of the Sarmatian was almost glad about this for those emerald deep eyes of her lover would probably express more emotions than she could bare right now if he would look at her. She loved those eyes…and all else about the man they belonged to…but all the pain, sorrow, weariness and concern she saw reflected in them so often… Darya sighed and blinked a few times to not let those thoughts weaken her neutral face expression, knowing that her eyes were probably already giving her away enough… Then she heard feet moving and glanced at the third person in the room once more from under her long dark eyelashes…
And finally, the female Sarmatian could only agree with Eyla’s words. A corner of her mouth twitched slightly and she even met the harlot’s gaze again before the other woman left the room and door clicked shut behind her. Darya brushed a hand over her face and took a deep breath before slightly shaking her head. She had seen all this…this visiting Arthur to make sure he was okay…very different in her mind. Very different. The dark-haired shifted on the bed and turned a little as if to stand. She let one leg dangle over the edge and stared at the dancing flames in the hearth. Darya suddenly felt a loss of words. She had no idea what to say…if she should say something at all. Hesitantly and for a moment only, the Sarmatian brought her hand back to the Commander’s leg and touched it slightly before finally standing from the bed and moving to the table nearby, on which she had spotted a pitcher with water and an empty mug, and pensively poured herself some of the cool clear fluid… |
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| golden_trillium | Apr 6 2010, 06:36 PM Post #57 |
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Author: golden_trillium Date: Tue Jul 08, 2008 5:50 pm Merlin
And before they got any further down the path of freedom for his men, another member of the rescue party made her appearance in the clearing- this one much more alarmingly than the other two. Unlike Ash or Guinevere, who had both simply and relatively quietly appeared, Mona staggered into the clearing, barely staying on her feet and bleeding from what looked like several wounds. She didn't seem to be thinking straight, either- Merlin got the impression that the young woman was not even sure where she was or what was going on. He reached out and caught at her arms as she staggered towards him- and heard a cutting remark from Ceinwyn to his right.
"Peace, Ceinwyn!" Merlin snapped, noticing with some relief as he turned his head that way that Nolan and his group were indeed back, had rejoined the cluster of Woads surrounding the Romans. Most of his attention, though, was for Mona, who was barely keeping her balance, not to mention bleeding all over his arms. "Juna," Merlin added curtly and more quietly, nodding over his shoulder towards the healer and making to "pass" Mona back to her. She had been very right, it seemed- taking her along had been an excellent idea. If she could just see to Mona, ascertain in a preliminary way what ailed her while Merlin dealt with the Romans, he could hear the full report from the rescue party later, when there were no enemy ears to hear. It certainly looked like they had had an interesting time. "My men," the Woad leader snapped back at Scipio as Mona's hands left off contact with his. His patience for this confrontation was rapidly wearing thin- especially as he intended to accept no terms from Scipio at all, if it could be helped. The truce they had made last time had not pleased the Gods. Quintus
"Ehhhh." Quintus gave an inarticulate growl-grunt of disgusted acknowledgement as he stepped forward to peer past Brendyn out the small gate, which stood unlocked and just slightly ajar. Hadrian's Balls! There were footprints in the mud outside the gate, very clear ones, the mud having been churned up during the fighting two days ago and then rained on all day today. Footprints- and unless he missed his guess, some of them were distinctly bigger than others, which indicated that the Woad devil-girl had indeed, as he had been suspecting deep in his heart, had help. This other girl, maybe, the mysterious one who had called the guards away from their post... "Ah, fuck," Quintus exclaimed, venting his anger somewhat by slamming the little gate as he ducked back inside the fort. The girl was gone, then- there was no sign of anyone outside the fort at all. She- they- were well gone into the woods. "You did well, Brendyn," he growled, the statement sounding grudging even though he didn't really mean it to be- he was just beyond pissed off at this whole situation. If only the prison entrance guards hadn't gone gallivanting off after some girl telling tales! And who the hell was that girl, anyway? "You" -the Centurion pointed to four of the men who had accompanied him- "Guard this gate. No one goes in or out, and you do not budge from this spot. Understood? You" -he pointed to the fifth man- "go find Lieutenant Titrus, or any other officer. Tell them the girl got out of the fort- and we found the way she bloody well did it. Get going." Quintus saw the fifth man dashing on his way, his arms crossed grumpily over his chest. "You can go wash," he added as an afterthought to Brendyn, who truth be told, stank worse than a Saxon whore. |
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| golden_trillium | Apr 6 2010, 06:37 PM Post #58 |
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Author: linnet Date: Tue Jul 08, 2008 8:51 pm Juna In Juna’s eyes, the clear advantage that Merlin and the Woads held, was rather quickly unraveling. Control of the situation appeared to be slipping away as one after another unexpected interruption occurred. She judged each one as a threat to Merlin’s focus, and a sign to the Romans of disorganization among the Woads. She grew increasingly nervous, and watchful of the Romans. Neeria’s story of undying loyalty to Merlin held no merit with Juna. If the woman had intended to lead the enemy away from the Woads, they wouldn’t be here at the camp. They’d be lost somewhere far away. And really it was all just beside the point. The point was, the bargain had been spoken. The emergence of Eala and Ash, although one of the worrisome distractions, was very welcome to the healer. But Ash didn’t look well, and Eala’s anxiety for him was evident. So when Merlin guided the girl back toward his followers, and Ash joined her, Juna moved close to them. She would not speak now, as she didn’t want to become another distraction. Instead she tried to silently signal through a concerned look to Ash that she would take care of him as soon as the Romans were gone. And with a nod and tilt of her head toward Ash, she tried to signal Eala that he would be helped. After that, things became more bizarre. Nolan and a handful of others moved off into the woods. Guinevere strolled out of the woods, and greeted her father. Another dead Woad was found to be inside the hut. Merlin and the Roman leader were getting nowhere in trying to communicate. Although Juna did give the Roman credit for getting right to the point – why had the Woads broken the truce with an unprovoked attack. She almost smiled in admiration of Merlin’s quick deflection, allowing him to avoid answering. Nolan and the other men returned from the woods. And then a bloody human form crawled out from among the trees, managed to get to its feet, and moved eerily toward Merlin, calling to him in a voice that was almost ecstatic. Juna tensed and looked quickly at Ash in confusion. Then as the hideously wounded creature reached Merlin, Juna saw that it was a woman – the Woad that had gone with Guinevere and Connell to rescue Neeria. Juna never had learned her name. She looked deranged, her eyes and expression not at all right. With relief, Juna noted that the woman didn’t seem to have a weapon.
With that, he moved the bloody mess of a thing back in Juna’s direction. Juna frowned, thinking that this person was indeed mad, and could be dangerous. But the healer put her arm around the woman, and guided her to sit leaning against a tree, a short distance from the others. A quick study of the numerous slashes and stab wounds, and the blood being lost, convinced Juna that the woman was dying. Juna stood and shook the blood from her hands before wiping the rest on her skirt. She waited. If Merlin or Guinevere wanted to know the woman’s condition, they would have to ask. If they wanted Juna to try to save her, she would try, hopeless as it seemed. She looked toward Guinivere who was supposed to have been with this battered person, and wondered what had happened. And, she wondered how all this appeared to the watching Romans. |
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| golden_trillium | Apr 6 2010, 06:38 PM Post #59 |
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Author: lady ione Date: Tue Jul 08, 2008 9:25 pm Adian
Adian finally sat on the other side of the food, and watched her as she sat by the food as well. There was something that made him uneasy about her, and he tried his damdest to try to figure out what it was exactly: There was something almost too perfect about her...the way she sat, spoke, too well mannered to be a peasant status for sure. The way Taitana's green eyes seemed to never leave him...there was an innocence there. Women who were too perfect, he had found out, could be big trouble...were up to something. He had liked Thorn as she was far from perfect and was tough, but when it came to love...well she was all woman. Adian smiled at Tati, "Well, I suppose one could be comfortable in more than one place. So far, I have it the way I like it...I want to keep Thorn's things about me." He reached for a piece of cheese and munched on it thoughtfully before taking a small sip of wine. "And you...Where do you set your quarters?" Dark heather gray eyes studied her. She was so pure she could have been a saint.... His mother had told him of heavenly beings though....
Love? Well, not quite yet... Adian looked at his lunch companion. In his mind, he could think of 100 other surprises...if she only knew. It did feel good though having company once again, though his mind drifted to Fiona. He had left her here thinking she would be safe and sleep, but she had gone. This worried him. Adian wondered just how many besides Vanora, Ione, Thorn, Javier, and a few others who knew Fiona was a woad. What is one of them left the truth out in the open? Indeed, all of the gods in Christendom could not save her if that were true! Looking back at Tatiana, Adian took a sip of wine noticing that odd look in her eyes again. Playful? He had hoped for a nice romantic meal.... |
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| golden_trillium | Apr 6 2010, 06:44 PM Post #60 |
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Author: Pinkie Date: Wed Jul 09, 2008 4:38 am Amadeus
Oh he didn't like that now. He didn't like that Merlin was issuing the terms of their negotiations and he didn't like the expectant tone the man used... nor did he like the feeling that he had little choice but to do as he was bid. They were surrounded - the demon woads were not renowned for their abilities in politics and such civilised things and so it left Amadeus with a feeling of using skills that would not be recognised. His mannerisms, his educated references to history would be dismissed as useless, pointless dribble amongst these barbarians. He was wasting his time. Or was he? Whilst pondering these things with a sneer upon his lips, Amadeus was treated to a new look at the woads, one that he was certain Merlin would not like for him to see. One of his number started babbling about trees and spirits as if they were real things in this backwards glen of foolishness. Another woman appeared and addressed Merlin as her father. Merlin acted as relaxed as a man could be with no signs that his daughter had been anywhere but at his beck and call the whole time. Amadeus gave the woad woman a strict, stern look, assessing her. She was a pretty thing. Wild, feral and diseased no doubt, but quite beautiful in her own way. His grey eyes swivelled back to Merlin --
Amadeus' eyebrows were raised as he was able to see the bloodied mess coming through the trees behind Merlin. He did not answer the question but watched, in rising amusement, as Merlin lost grips with what was going on around him. So he would not speak til his men were freed? Was that so? Well his people were making a liar of their leader in the way they ran around the place with no thought to their betters being indisposed to deal with their problems right now. One of his number advised death, immediate death, for the rejoicing wretch that approached Merlin and it was about as much as Amadeus could take. His lips pulled up in a knowing smirk, a devious grin of condescension.
He remained silent a bit longer, looking left and right expectantly before raising his hands, feeling brave having seen what it was he had seen these past few minutes. The woad society encroaching upon itself, endangering itself. "Hmm -- perhaps we could slit all their throats and do you a favour hmm?" he asked rhetorically, his grey eyes slashing across the dreary landscape to the woman who had suggested such a fate for one of their number already. He shook his head, looking back at Merlin, daring to take a step forward - but only one. "You have one of my men - " he gestured with a gloved hand towards Mordred who was surrounded - "And I have three of yours who were bound, gagged and left here by someone who was not us so we can only presume .. it was your own. What's say you dismiss your numbers, release my men, I shall release yours and we can move somewhere private to speak upon important matters without ..." his smile was tight, unamused but condescending as he peered around at the woads facing him, "... all these interruptions? That way we both get what we want." the Optio advised in a quiet voice, certain it would not carry throughout the clearing and intending it to be so. Galahad
That Galahad accepted Gawain taking the blame for what happened didn't mean he was pleased about it. He appreciated it in a way that he could not vocalise right now. His addled brain took it all in though, and when the time came Galahad would do the same for Gawain. It wasn't deceiving Arthur - they all knew that. Arthur would know the truth of it despite what they said, but Arthur would understand that it was Sarmatian business, that it was his men keeping their pride, keeping their heads above the water-line for one more year, one more fight closer to freedom. The youngest Sarmatian gave a non-committed nod of his head in gratitude to Lancelot, staring blindly at the ground before him, wishing that he had had a bit more to drink so that he might have fallen into oblivion about now... wishing Linnesse and Neeve had not drenched them and brought him back to reality quite so soon.
Galahad pouted wearily, ignoring Fiona as best he could when she stood in front of them. He let his legs be guided by Gawain and Lancelot's movements, his jelly-knees barely keeping him upright of his own accord. When Lancelot referred to him as pup again the young Sarmatian whined... albeit, like a pup, and shut his blue eyes in frustration. "Stop calling me that...!" he whinged quietly while Gawain did hsi best to soften the blow of his 'piss off' and Lancelot's polite 'piss off' to Fiona. They ambled on cloesr to the infirmary and once they got to the front door, Galahad gave a heavy sigh, sagging more of his meagre weight onto his two brothers beside him. He looked wearily at the inside of the infirmary and pouted, his bloodied lip looking comically red and what looked like a black smudge on his cheekbone beginning to look more like the bruise it was rather than just dirt. He saw Lavinia -- "Oh nooooooooooo.." he groaned, turning his head away from the old nun in consternation and trying to take a step back. He had not the wherewithal to actually take the step back so just got his arms tangled in Gawain and Lancelot so that their arms were now across his chest and his own arms hung down over the bridge of their arms which had been keeping him standing. And he was looking at Fiona. "Piss off" he snapped at her and turned his head, looking at the side of Lancelot's face and then Gawain's pleadingly - "Anyone but her guys, please.." he complained, gesturing weakly behind him towards Lavinia. Eala Eala had no idea that she was intruding. Like the crazed Mona she presumed that they had the upper hand in this, that they had somehow become victorious though on a small scale, in capturing the Romans who had come to hunt them down. That was the only reason she could think of to have Romans in the clearing of old village like this. How else would these Romans know how to find the clearing? That would make no sense at all. Unless they were led to the clearing and no woad would do that. No woad could have done that because ... A realisation dawned on the ten-year-old as she made to attack the man on horseback, her black eyes becoming vacant as she processed this information. Merlin pulled her away from the Roman and shoved her in the direction of her people. Eala dipped her head in apology and staggered to gain her balance, turning around to look up at Ash, trying to convey something to him. But when she looked up at him he was not lookign at her, but glaring off towards the Roman on horseback, his hand placed on her shoulder. Eala felt owned. She felt sheltered under that hand though she knew the man was injured. Her black eyes swivelled towards Juna who was giving her a comforting nod of her head, always looking so stern Juna.. but Eala found that familiarity to be as comforting as Merlin's authoritive presence. The little blonde, however, now had questions about one of their number. She tugged at Ash's tunic to get his attention and pointed towards Neeria frantically, gesturing with her hands that she didn't know how the woman got there then pointing wildly to the horses, indicating that that was how she must have got here. Traitor. Unconfirmed but truth in Eala's mind, she now knew Neeria had brought the Romans here. Gasping a harsh breath, Eala turned to glare at Neeria accusingly, her fingers flexing down towards her thigh where both knew she had that knife that they had taken from the Roman healing rooms. Eala's chin dipped but her eyes remained intent on Neeria murderously. She didn't hear the other commotions until someone moved and then her head snapped up, she saw Guinevere. And Mona. In a show to impress Guinevere, Eala pulled the little Roman knife from the binding on her upper leg and held it in her tiny hand assuredly, looking from Neeria, to the Roman on horseback, ready to do what she was told, her other hand tight about the end of Ash's tunic still. He had told her 'revenge' and 'today' -- this would be it. Mari
Initially Mari laughed, thinking Milan was making a joke. Of course he was smaller! She hadn't meant that. Her playful brown eyes danced with merriment and happiness as she looked up at him. He was looking down at her and slowly his expression was changing. He was becoming a bit more serious now, honest. Mari's smile ebbed but it lingered a little about the edges of her mouth, her blinks slow, patient, waiting for Milan to speak his mind. And when he did it altered the young woman's expression entirely. Her eyebrows rose slowly and her lips parted ever so slightly. It wasn't pity that was shown there, it was sympathy, regret that he had been afraid at all. Her hands moved down his chest to his stomach where her fingers splayed out, covering as much of his hard abdomen as she could with her small appendages. "Why were you scared?" she whispered, not wanting to break the atmosphere of honest openess that had allowed him to admit he had been scared to begin with. "Was it people were you scared of? Your family? I used to be scared of thunder until Kolya told me it was the gods shouting." she gave a wry smile, knowing her father had told her that in irritation at her constant whinging in terror durin the night, but when she said it the way she had it made it sound an affectionate thing, it made it sound considerate on her father's behalf. Drake Drake hadn't intended to frighten Linnesse. And not because of good morals either - he didn't want to frighten her beacuse she was Linnette's sister. He stood stoic and unmoving, unwavering, glaring at an invisible point above the blonde's head, wishing she had not stoked his emotions and conscience into such an overdrive. The woman had no idea of his intentions! She had no idea what he had seen throughout his life, what he had done and what he knew not to do. He had no designs on Linnette. He had feelings for her, feelings that had happened without his say-so, feelings that had grown over a length of time without him truly realising it until it was too late - but he had no intention on acting on those feelings. And certainly not when the woman was at her most vulnerable. All he did now was make sure she was well, that someone was looking out for her, that she did not feel like a burden on anyone. The woman had her pride and he ... he ... loved that about her. He wanted to preserve that for the benefit of the next man that she would love. It could never be him, that Drake knew, but it didn't mean he had to deny such a beautiful woman with such admirable traits to the rest of mankind.
Drake did not even flinch at the lie on Linnette's tongue. He grit his teeth harder and stared fixedly at nothing. He could remain there for hours, hours upon hours, without moving a muscle. Linnette's addressing of him did not even make him move, he continued staring above Linnesse's head. Linnesse protested being spoken about in such a fashion which almost made Drake want to smile but he knew that that would be childish. Her hand moved towards his face and her comment about breaking his teeth finally made an impact. His eyebrow quirked and he looked down at her in disbelief, her hand dropping back to her side as she coaxed Linnesse inside to unpack. Had she just told him he wuold break his teeth someday? Drake's jaw relaxed and he felt a pain, a physical pain, around his neck and jaw from clenching his teeth so hard. A wry smile quirked his lips, softening his very severe features and he turned his head, watching Linnette walk inside with Linnesse. When she turned a curt nod of thanks to him, Drake was still grinning, looking more relaxed and amused than he ever had before. He blew out a breath of laughter and lifted a hand to rub his jaw, the noise of his calloused fingertips against his beard quite loud as he nodded his head in agreement to her, and started to walk towards his own room. |
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