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| July 2008 | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Apr 3 2010, 09:33 PM (2,361 Views) | |
| golden_trillium | Apr 6 2010, 07:12 PM Post #76 |
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Author: Elessars Girl Date: Mon Jul 14, 2008 1:25 pm Arthur Darya turned to meet Arthur’s gaze after he’d softly beckoned to her, yet she did not immediately return to his side. The lines that had formed across Arthur’s brow from exhaustion and concern deepened slightly as he watched her. What was it? Emerald eyes never left her seemingly troubled expression as Arthur watched his lover set her mug down on the table and finally return to the bed beside him. She accepted his outstretched hand and pressed his thick sword calloused fingers between her softer slender ones; the tender gesture some indication that Arthur still held Darya’s heart…but the Roman sensed something had changed since he’d last been with his beautiful Sarmatian lover….. …had she changed her heart? Was there now someone else? What?
Arthur attempted to meet Darya’s fragile smile with one of his own, but the gesture did not quite reach his eyes. The Commander was certainly in need of rest and the only way Arthur would find it was to purge all tension from his mind and tired body. Considering he carried the weight of the world on his broad shoulders….a near impossible task. But there was one small and simple thing that Darya could do to distract Arthur from heavier thoughts….including her previous encounters with Eyla - ‘Previous’ being the hopefully key word. “At this moment, I would be grateful for a kiss,” Arthur finally answered as his mouth formed a little more of an affectionate smile for his lover. His brilliant green eyes softened with the tone of his voice; his lips remained slightly parted waiting for the comfort of hers and the sweet taste Arthur had only just now realized he’d missed so much. Had he made the right choice? Or had Arthur’s heart remained in the possession of another? Not wanting to face the dark and pain filled crevices of his troubled heart right now, the Roman gently squeezed at Darya’s tiny fingers and prayed she’d have mercy on him and fulfill his simple request. |
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| golden_trillium | Apr 6 2010, 07:16 PM Post #77 |
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Author: Pinkie Date: Mon Jul 14, 2008 4:03 pm Amadeus
There was something portentuous about the way Merlin smiled. Amadeus would not admit it, but that smile was the stuff of nightmares. It was the kind of smile that accompanied a knife in the groin, the kind of smile that a man wore when covered from head to foot in someone else's blood. It was the smile of an unstable man - except everything else about Merlin spoke of mental stability... as much as Amadeus would hate to admit it. He was poised. He had dismissed the strife amongst his people with ease and was now looking expectantly at him as if they had been waiting for him all along. The Optio cleared his throat and glanced over at Mordred and then over his shoulder at Tristan. He tensed his jaw and shut his eyes, inclining his head to indicate the Scout to release the first prisoner. He looked back over to Mordred and gestured with a long-fingered gloved hand for him to come forward. His grey eyes then swivelled back to Merlin and he smiled. It was a chilly smile - one that he hoped was as bone-shattering as the one Merlin had given him but somehow he knew he had fallen short. "Well isn't this nice. We're all friends now hmm?" he replied sarcastically, watching as the first prisoner scurried away. He glanced over his shoulder to watch Tristan unleash a second man before looking back to Merlin - "Whenever you're ready..." he said with mock civility, stepping back and making a broad sweep of his hand towards the hut where Tristan was still lingering. His grey eyes flickered to Barbattus and twitched into a narrowed squint, warning the man to keep a close eye on things whilst he was in the hut. Galahad
Galahad was not likely to believe that all too quickly. For whilst Lancelot was a good soldier to have at his back, there was little else about the First Knight that endeared him to the others. Dependable, Sarmatian to the core - he was the kind of man that you loved to hate and yet despite that Galahad was pretty certain each and every one of them would lay down their lives for Lancelot. Without question or hesitation. It went with being a Sarmatian in Britain.
No?! Just 'no'?! What about his eyes?! They weren't fucking soft! They were intense eyes - the eyes of a warrior, the eyes of a killer! Soft -- for the love of the gods! Galahad almost turned and petulantly reemed off a description of every man he had ever killed just to prove a point - he was not a puppy! He was not a child - he was as fierce a warrior as Lance-bloody-lot was! His big, pitiful brown eyes turned to Gawain looking for support as he got tangled in the two men's arms, his own hanging miserably down behind the two Sarmatians.
Galahad flinched when the woman pinched his chin between her thumb and fingers, bony fingers. Bony cold fingers! The young Sarmatian pouted when he realised he had not the bravery or ability to pull his head away completely but his eyes did widen and he looked pleadingly at Gawain, Lancelot and then Fiona when he was accused of telling her to 'piss off'. He blubbed a bit, lips bubbling as she continued to speak over his pathetic attempts to tell her that he had been telling Fiona to piss off, not the nun. However, he had little say in it and was led away towards a cot, backwards, his head drooping as he sighed. Lavinia was bantering at Fiona now and Galahad looked at Gawain, pleading with his big soft puppy-dog eyes. "Please Gawain... Lancelot... don't leave me with her. You heard what she said.. I'd rather... I'd rather... I'd rather face Alina's wrath right now than have her bony fingers poking at me. She called me a filthy, uncivilised heathen!!" the young man said in a groan as he was sat down on the bed. His hand lashed out and gripped at Lancelot's arm, trying to hold at least one of them - his other hand was wrapped about his middle to hold his innards inside. |
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| golden_trillium | Apr 6 2010, 07:17 PM Post #78 |
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Author: golden_trillium Date: Mon Jul 14, 2008 6:45 pm Merlin and Tristan
Merlin said nothing to that…but the look he gave Scipio was enough to drop a man in his tracks. His eyebrows raised in something like surprise, but his mouth set itself into an ugly sneer, one of utter contempt and disgust, which made it clear that he thought of the Romans as nothing but the maggots and filth they were. The comment might have been made sarcastically- but Merlin was not amused, not in the slightest. Well, not by that. He was rather amused at the way Scipio was obviously trying to intimate by his pretentious glares hat he was the one in charge here- and next to Merlin himself, failing miserably. The Woad leader could almost taste the other man’s fear- and it was sweet to him, something delectable to savor after yesterday’s bitter defeat. Merlin’s face settled into a predatory half-smile as Scipio gestured toward the hut, his nervousness showing despite his bravado.
Merlin gave a mock-gracious smile, as heavy on the sarcasm as the Roman’s own words, but more confident, as he took a step forward, advancing towards his now-freed men. The three of them walked slowly over to join the others, rubbing circulation back into recently-bound wrists and hobbling a little as blood flowed back into their legs. About halfway to the hut, Merlin stopped them with a tiny gesture and arched an eyebrow in silent question- Who did this to you? He was fully expecting them to indicate the Romans, despite Scipio’s statement that they had found the men already bound- and it was with a jolt of surprise that Merlin saw the men, with quite a few nervous glances, make motions toward Guinevere, of all people- and then join the group as far away from her as possible. Guinevere? But that didn’t make any sense at all. Perhaps they didn’t really mean her, but meant to indicate something else by that- that a woman had done it, or…what? Merlin couldn’t for the life of him think what it could mean. But he threw Guinevere a preemptive stern glance anyway, before continuing on his way to the hut. He would get to the bottom of this later, as well as Mona’s injuries, and everything else. Clearly, he had a lot to catch up on. The slave was still in the hut as Merlin approached closer, dragging out the body of the man who had been killed inside the hut. Eying the Woad leader with warily smoldering eyes- that man could have had more presence than Scipio did in his little finger, though Merlin knew from previous encounters that the scout seemed to prefer not to, to stay in the background of things- Tristan laid the body of the second dead Woad alongside the first, then slid his eyes over towards Scipio for some indication of what he was to do next. He seemed uneasy with the whole situation- as well he might. Magnanimously, affecting a friendly smile, Merlin gestured for the scout to stay, not to back away from the hut after all. “By all means, Optio, keep your man with you if you’d like. I will take one of mine, too…” Merlin turned and beckoned to Nolan, then spread his hands, almost disarmingly charming, now. “And then we shall both feel more comfortable, hmm?” There was a veiled barb under the words that suggested that Scipio was the one who needed to be made more comfortable- but in truth Merlin thought bringing Nolan with him was a sensible precaution. Just in case. He advanced the rest of the way to the hut doorway, not missing the way the slave’s hands clenched into fists at his sides- but he was well-trained as a lap dog, and would not stray from his master’s orders, Merlin was fairly sure of that. |
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| golden_trillium | Apr 6 2010, 07:19 PM Post #79 |
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Author: Lancelot Date: Mon Jul 14, 2008 7:36 pm Lancelot
Lancelot grunted again, but he'd seen Gawain's smile, even if he didn't answer it with one of his own. His face was too sore, and even when he was in a rare good mood, Lancelot didn't grace many people with a smile. Not a real one. Only one person saw that, and that person was likely busy with his other lov-
That was worth a smirk. Lancelot cocked a dirty eyebrow at Gawain, and flashed dangerous white teeth at him. "You're on, my friend."
Lancelot tried to not smile further, but he couldn't help it as the nun worked her best to chap Galahad's hide - and Gawain's and his own, and the little Woad girl's. He did notice, however, that she wasn't quite as tetchy with him as her tone had been with the others. "Five, you say?" he mouthed to Gawain, and then winked his non-swollen eye. He and the other knight manhandled the younger one to the cot Lavinia indicated, and when Galahad was seated, Lancelot opened his mouth to begin his work on the nun.
Lancelot tilted his head and stared down at Galahad, his angular face pulling into an all too frequently seen expression of annoyance. He didn't pull his arm out of Galahad's grip, but slid a few fingers between his flesh and the pup's hand to loosen the hold. "Ow," he said. "That is my arrow-wounded arm. And besides, my little brother, you are at this moment an uncivilised heathen. Just like the rest of us!" He laughed, although the sound did not reach his eyes - or rather eye, as the one that had taken Galahad's elbow was swollen shut. Turning to the nun, he finally removed Galahad's vice like hold on him, and tried to give her convincing and contrite. "Lady, I shouldn't expect you take the time to sing. After all, you run a busy valetudinarium here, and I'm sure we...heathens...take up an inordinate amount of your time. However, I'm sure Galahad would be eternally grateful if you would go gently with him...I know I would be very happy if you could help him without making him squeal," he turned and gave Galahad a horrid, dark, one-eyed glare. "He is young, and somewhat untried." The last sentence came with a resounding sigh. He lifted his uninjured eye, and gazed - rather beguilingly, he thought - at the old nun, his lashes long and thick and giving his gaze a slightly liquid look. "For Arthur, my lady," he said finally, and touched her arm gently, with the utmost of patience and respect. By the gods, but he loved this. |
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| golden_trillium | Apr 6 2010, 07:21 PM Post #80 |
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Author: Pinkie Date: Tue Jul 15, 2008 6:53 am Saoirse It had only been her intention to keep her eyes closed long enough that she wouldn't have to look at the accusing eyes of Bors, but after a short time with her eyes shut, the draining emotionally charged last few hours caught up with her, and in no time the red head was fast asleep. She didn't even hear Vanora's approach or departure. One of her arms was crossed over Dagonet's stomach and her face was tilted down to the base of his neck, her chin tight against his shoulder. Thankfully her slumber was dreamless - she floated in nothingness and was not subjected to a terrible recounting of her last conversation with Dagonet's dead son. She was not tortured with nightmares of Dagonet not returning. It was nothingness, blissful, unintrusive nothingness and she delighted in it. When she did stir to the waking world it was slowly and with a gentle groan...
Oh his voice had been quiet, gentle and as intrusive as her slumber, but the rumble of his voice was enough to wake her. Blue eyes were squinted as Saoirse came to - lifting her head adn giving a protesting groan at the pain in her neck from the awkward way she had slept. She moved the hand from Dagonet's stomach and rubbed the back of her neck irritably, her grouchy face screwed up for a short time while she woke. And when she finally came to the waking world in full force, her eyes widened and she looked down at Dagonet in surprise - "Wha'? Are ye alrigh'?" she murmured, placing a hand on the top of his chest, her fingers feeling the warmth of his skin at his collarbones whilst her eyes roved over his face for any signs of pain or discomfort. Seeing nothing there that had not been there before, Saoirse slowly sat up, a hand flat against the bed beside Dagonet's shoulder. Her eyes were drawn to a stickiness between their bodies and she saw that the wound on her thigh had bled out during her rest and had left a dark stain on her dress and a similar patch on Dagonet's breeches. "Ooops -- " the Irish woman whispered, biting the side of her lip as she used the edge of the sheet to dab at the man's trousers, glancing up at him guiltily - "Didn' think it was so bad as t'bleed like tha'..." she admitted sheepishly. |
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| golden_trillium | Apr 6 2010, 07:22 PM Post #81 |
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Author: Darya Date: Tue Jul 15, 2008 8:55 am Darya It actually took the dark Sarmatian a while to realize that she was finally alone with Arthur. And now, as she was kneeling next to him, holding his hand, Darya felt incredibly emotional...and she was not sure if that was caused by the pregnancy...or the situation in general...or by all that had happened in the last days without her lover by her side...or all together. Her hands gently squeezed the Roman's while her dark gaze lingered on his face.
Those words...this simple wish went straight into the centre of Darya's heart. If Arthur knew that she would have done anything for him in this moment? There was not much that she would not do for the Commander in general...but in this moment, even those last restrictions were gone. She just looked at Arthur for another rather long moment but the expression in her eyes changed from troubled to loving and caring...and she lifted his hand a bit more until she could press her lips to its warm skin. Only then did she release her lover's hand and pushed herself up onto her hands and knees...inching a bit forward as she did so...until she was so close to him that she could feel his breath against her own skin. ...and then - just as her lover had requested - she kissed him. Briefly...carefully, even a bit hesitant at first...afraid of hurting him if she would lose her balance and fall or stumble forward, yet affectionately. Then the dark-haired pulled away a bit to just look at the Roman again, searching his handsome face for the tiniest hint of extra-pain that she perhaps had caused with her movements. Only then did she dare to shift most of her wait onto one hand so that she could lift the other to gently cup Arthur's cheek...and with a warm small smile she leaned in to him once more to claim his lips again. Longer...more passionate and less hesitant, yet still carefully. It felt so incredibly good to taste her lover again...to feel his lips against hers... A nearness that helped the Sarmatian to ease a bit more...and to push the surprise of running into Eyla in this very room aside for now. And with that, the memories she connected with the harlot. Right now, there was only Arthur and her... At some point, Darya broke the kiss again but remained where she was, pressing her forehead against Arthur's as she did so. "I love you, Arthur...", the woman whispered, "...and I am so incredibly glad to have you back alive..." The female Sarmatian paused and silently vowed to thank the Gods for sending Arthur back in one piece as soon as possible. Then she kissed him again as if to underline her words with it. "Do you know how much I need you...we....need you?", she added barely audible with her lips still against his before shifting again and allowing herself to lay down next to the Commander, resting on her side to be able to look at him properly while falling silent. She had given a subtle hint. The first step was made...even though Darya was aware of the different meaning this 'we' could have in this case. However, she was just not sure how else to gently approach the topic. Merciful Gods, please help us... |
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| golden_trillium | Apr 6 2010, 07:25 PM Post #82 |
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Author: lady ione Date: Tue Jul 15, 2008 9:11 am Adian As he sat in front of the fire with Tatiana eating their meal, Adian had a lot to think about. He was moving a bit too fast, possibly from the untimely death of someone he felt he would never find another like. Thorn had been his everything. His reason for living....and the child had sealed that secret vow they had shared. A child he'd never see. Adian took a sip of wine, watching Tatiana loosen the braid he had done...slowly and seductivly. But was he really honestly really to place his heart out there again? Really ready to give Tatiana that sacred love that he had shared with Thorn? Thorn would have wanted him to move on, but he could not allow his heart to do so... Ione had been the only other one he had loved, had protected, had given his heart to. They had grown up together, and had shared a taste of love only twice. Those huge dark chocolate eyes, the long auburn hair the color of rusty autumn leaves in sunlight. He had come to the fort looking for her....
He watched her as she looked about the room until her eyes met his, and he shifted a bit. Watching her was making his pants a bit uncomfortable...especially the image of her naked body in the water. Damn it all! He should have just made love to her then. Controlling the feelings he fought to suppress for fear he'd hurt Tatiana..."take" her without her permission, Adian gestured toward the empty bed that had been Thorn's, "You are welcome to stay here. These are servant's quarters after all. Better than sleeping in a stables." And when I leave the fort...if I do....this can be yours...if you marry me in the Spring... He wanted to make her feel comfortable, not afraid, and so he'd control himself around her until the time was right. Until she was willing, and he had released his heart.
"Wogan and Llawen are it as far as pets," Adian said. Tatiana's whole features were enveloping him deeper in his feelings. Looking down at the furs, then back at Tatiana, Adian finally told her the truth which she deserve, "I like you Tatiana, and I want you to marry me..." He swallowed hard. The most he expected was for her to slap him. "The way you looked in the light of the baths...the way your eyes looked into mine...your kiss...you are so lovely." Getting up from where he sat, he moved to the window and looked out at the afternoon as if grasping for the right words, "I know this is all very fast, and we can wait until Spring, but I wanted to ask you now....I know it is very soon from when Thorn died, but the way I am feeling, if I don't cast my heart out soon, then I fear that I never will be able to....I need you in my life, before my love turns cold and I have nothing left to give." In his heart, Adian knew it was VERY soon after Thorn's death, but he could already feel himself beginning to close up to love. He needed to love again, and to have hope....Tatiana was a mixture of Thorn and Ione together, but she was totally herself none the less... |
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| golden_trillium | Apr 6 2010, 07:27 PM Post #83 |
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Author: Starbelle Date: Tue Jul 15, 2008 2:32 pm Tatiana Sitting in the comfortable silence listening to the fire crackle and pop in the fireplace , Tatiana glanced at him over the rim of her glass, waiting for him to break the quietness that had desended in the room.
"Thank you, Adian. I appreciate that very much." She replied gratefully, glancing over at the bed that he'd just indicated to her.
After hearing him speak and hearing his declaration of marriage towards her, at first Tatiana felt like she was in a wonderful dream, one that she didn't want to wake up from, but after glancing deeply into his eyes, and seeing his feelings for her in them, she knew that there was only one answer that she could and would give him in reply. "Yes, Adian. Yes, I would be honored to marry you and intertwine our lives together." Tatiana replied to him, feeling a blush heat her cheeks, warming them and changing her eyes to a darker green with the emotion that she was feeling. Getting up from the furs herself, Tatiana walked over to where he stood and reaching over, placed one tiny hand on his arm, the other one one his shoulder and glancing up at him from under her eyelids, balanced herself on tip-toes to softly kiss his cheek. "I like you too, Adian, you're a very special person. I'm so very glad that our paths crossed in the tavern that day..its almost...as if...Thorn herself placed us together. There's a uniqueness to you, Adian, one that doesn't appear very often. I'm glad that we got this chance to be together. I'm looking forward to the Spring." Looks like I didn't mess anything up and I got a safer place to sleep at night. |
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| golden_trillium | Apr 6 2010, 07:29 PM Post #84 |
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Author: linnet Date: Tue Jul 15, 2008 7:48 pm Gawain
Lancelot gave Gawain a look exactly like a sleek cat would wear the moment before it pounced on an unsuspecting mouse. The blond knight merely nodded and tried to keep his own sure smile from being too apparent. Better to let the First Knight think he actually had a chance to win. He could try every trick in the Lancelot Book of Charm, and still Gawain felt certain that Lavinia just did not smile – ever. And if by some fluke she did, it sure as hell wouldn’t be at one of the Sarmatians she treated like week-old garbage. The old woman was even now lashing into poor Fiona who was only standing around, not even in the way. Gawain had all he could do to keep Galahad upright, but he turned his head and tried to catch Fioana’s attention. He gave the girl a quick smile and a deliberate wink. If she wanted to hang around and watch the show, he didn’t mind if she told Lavinia she was with him. He wasn’t factoring in the ‘little talk’ that Fiona would face later, or he’d have realized he was doing the young Woad no favor. Galahad acted as if he were being dragged to the gallows, as Gawain and Lancelot had to lift and pull him to the bed where Lavinia waited. The youngest knight’s eyes were pleading for a reprieve. When he was deposited onto the bed, he clung desperately to Lancelot’s arm – the arm that had been wounded. Gawain scowled at his best friend, who was beginning to seem like an out of control hazard to anyone in his reach. The blond knight’s eyes, however, revealed concern rather than anger.
‘No,” Gawain said with more patience than he thought he had left. “I’m the one she called a filthy, uncivilized heathen. Alina isn’t here, and you can’t wait to get patched up. You don’t have a choice. So just settle down, suck it up, and let Lavinia do her job. I’ll be right here. I’m not leaving you alone.” He stood in front of Galahad, resting his hand on the younger knight’s shoulder. It was as much to make a quick grab in case of an attempted escape, as for brotherly reassurance. Meanwhile, Lancelot was chatting up the cantankerous nun.
Gawain kept one eye on Lavinia’s face. He wasn’t about to let Lancelot claim that he coaxed a smile from her when the shaggy knight wasn’t looking. Oh, Arthur's First was smooth, and had a whole bagful of tricks. But Gawain just gave him an exaggerated look of sympathy, and surreptitiously but pointedly held up his hand for Lancelot to see, with all five fingers extended. |
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| golden_trillium | Apr 6 2010, 07:29 PM Post #85 |
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Author: lady ione Date: Tue Jul 15, 2008 10:24 pm Brendyn The young soldier had been so tired that he had totally gotten lost in a sort of restless sleep, and when he stirred, he was submersed in the bath up to his shoulders. There had been a gentle slope out of the pool, and he had leaned back on it and had dozed off. Dark blue eyes slowly opened and looked about at the sky. It was almost dusk and he had a lot more of his duty to carry out before he slept. Stretching slowly so as not to pull the stitches Evana had patched his wound up with, Brendyn made his way out of the bath feeling and smelling way cleaner than he had for a long time. His lean well toned form made it's way over to his...his.... ...uniform? He had forgotten his uniform. Damn it all to hell! Can't anything go right? All he had were the soiled breeches he had worn earlier, and he had ditched his tunic somewhere between the gate and the baths. Perhaps there was a short cut to the Roman quarters, because after a wonderful bath, he was determined not to put back on the dirty smelly pants. Not far off, Brendyn spotted a servant, and inquired about getting his Roman uniform. The servant nodded, and went off to fetch Brendyn's uniform. He waited, drying himself off with one of the soft towels. A relaxed sigh escaped his lips. Brendyn hoped for guard duty at the wall, but perhaps they did not have him scheduled for anything just now. It would give him time for evening prayer, and pay respects to his fellow soldiers and his ex Commander... The servant returned with the uniform in neat condition, and Brendyn thanked the man before donning the outfit, and placing the boots on. With another stretch, Brendyn proudly placed the cloak over his shoulders, and made his way to the roster to check on duties for the night... |
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| golden_trillium | Apr 6 2010, 07:30 PM Post #86 |
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Author: sabor ice Date: Wed Jul 16, 2008 1:22 am Milan
Milan bowed his head, a stray chuckle escaping his lips at her confession. He didn't laugh because she had claimed to be once frightened of thunder - he laughed because he thought her brave, and it was difficult for him to imagine her cowering from a part of nature. The wry laughter quickly diminished, but the smile momentarily remained, his unfocused blue eyes staring at her hands against the flat of his torso. He raised a hand to hers, his fingers idly tracing her smaller appendages one by one. He frowned deeply then, his brow slowly forming a pensive line as he thought how to best answer her, without putting the fear of the Devil in her, and without bringing forth all of the painful memories he so fervently dreamed of forgetting. But, his attempt at resistance was futile. His vivid memories plagued his every waking moment with brutal intensity, and then terrorized his very soul to the core in sleep. The demons he carried within him were things nightmares were created from. Impenetrable darkness. The epitome of evil. "I...I ccan't..." he moaned out hoarsely, shaking his head, chewing on his quivering bottom lip. He couldn't talk about it. He hissed in a sharp breath, releasing an involuntary shudder as he turned away from her. Absentmindedly he brought his hand to his marked wrist, palm scrubbing furiously at the inked skin. His shoulders hunched up to his ears, every tendon in his back visibly tensed even through his tunic, as his heavy, sluggish movements finally led him to the edge of the bed. He reached out and felt for the mattress, his trembling form nearly collapsing onto it. He hunkered forward, his rocking subtle and rhythmless. He tried to hide his tortured expression with one hand, and he turned his free palm outward toward Mari. "Please...don' look...at mme..." Milan pleaded, deep sobs rapidly welling up from within his chest without his permission. He didn't want to face her like this. "Don'...ll..ook at me...Mari..." |
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| golden_trillium | Apr 6 2010, 07:32 PM Post #87 |
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Author: Kayla Date: Wed Jul 16, 2008 7:30 am Fiona The bantering between the knights, Fiona had to admit, was amusing. Galahad was clearly the target of most of what Lancelot was saying and the nickname 'puppy' engrained itself in the young woad's mind. Of course, it seemed that the young Sarmatian didn't particularly enjoy the teasing, and the young woman shared almost the same sentiment. She had been the youngest of her siblings and more like a tag along most of the time than actually part of something, although Brianna had always done her best to include her sister.
Fiona watched as the nun came towards Galahad and her bright blue eyes studied the woman for a moment, instantly realizing as she opened her mouth to speak to the knights what they had been talking about moments earlier. She didn't miss the look that he gave to the three of them, looking like he was about to be sent to his death and she felt a flash of pity for him in that moment, despite his earlier remarks towards her. The woman hadn't realized that he had been telling the woad to piss off, not the nun and it was obviously sealing his fate, as she had told him.
The woad was a bit surprised when, after finishing with her bantering at the Sarmatians, Lavinia turned her attention towards the young woman. This surprise showed on her face for a moment and she resisted the urge to turn around and run. Lavinia was intimidating and even though she had faced battles and men with swords, the nun was a whole different thing. She couldn't escape this or even really do anything except for answer the question. "Um ..." Fiona trailed off as she caught sight of Gawain turn towards her while dragging Galahad off to a free cot and his smile and wink made her feel a bit more brave. She flashed him a quick smile before looking up at the woman again. "I'm, um, with Gawain and I came to help," she told Lavinia, gesturing her hand towards the trio ahead. She still didn't know if she would even be able to help now, but at least she had told the woman the truth. The woad had never been much good at lying around people that intimidated her (probably the only reason that she had been able to do so well when it came to distracting the guards, since she'd had intimidation from Ash to do so), her father included. Even the threat of a 'little talk' that she would probably have to face didn't make the woad fabricate something to tell her. |
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| golden_trillium | Apr 6 2010, 07:33 PM Post #88 |
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Author: linnet Date: Wed Jul 16, 2008 8:54 pm Mother Lavinia For all her bluster and confrontation, Lavinia didn’t hate the Sarmatians. In fact, she was not hateful by nature, and not prejudiced in her opinions toward any race or ethnic group. Every adult, with the possible exception of Arthur Castus, who passed through her infirmary, was treated to her sharp tongue and scornful manner. For countless years she had borne the heavy responsibility of running a complex and essential medical facility. Her persona had developed as a way to maintain control of the chaos. It also enabled her to constantly let off steam. And it worked for her. She almost never felt overwhelmed. She was the force that kept the life-saving infirmary going. That being said, however, there really was something especially irritating about these Sarmatian knights. One had only to look at them for one thing, or at least some of them. Untrimmed beards, ratty uncut hair, clothing that looked like something out of an ancient saga. They drank too much, swore like sailors, chased after women, fathered bastards. They lived as if they didn’t plan to see tomorrow. These three were all nursing battle wounds, and what did they do but get into some kind of serious brawl. But worst of all, to Lavinia, was how they all seemed to consider her infirmary to be a dreaded punishment. Taking advantage of the help she worked so hard to make available, was the last resort in their minds.
A grunt of disapproval and a slight shudder were Lavinia’s reaction to the young girl’s answer. She looked from the girl to the mess of a blonde knight and just shook her head. “Come along then, whatever your name is,” she said to the girl. “Now you and I really need to have that talk later.” A good moral lecture was always something to look forward to for the nun, and this one would be a doozy.
The possibility that there was a connection between the young Sarmatian’s desperate fear, and Lavinia’s cranky attitude entered the nun’s mind. But she was incapable of softening herself in order to calm him down.
Lavinia shot Gawain a quick, non-committal look of surprise. Apparently he was relatively sober for a change, and actually sounded like he had a few working brain areas under all that hair. So she refrained for now from reminding him that she’d told him to keep quiet.
The old nun screwed up her face in a bewildered scowl. She would do her job as she always did. She certainly didn’t need The Sarmatian’s verbose advice and groveling obsequious tone. Then he touched her as if she were some sainted relic, and appealed for Arthur’s sake for what she didn’t even know. Lavinia brushed his hand away. “I do believe, Sarmatian, that you have defeated more enemies by talking them to death than by your sword,” she said to Lancelot with a perfectly straight face, before turning her full attention to the most seriously injured man. Hovering above the seated, cowering Galahad, Lavinia naturally appeared her sternest most imposing self. “Stop simpering,” she commanded the soft-eyed young man. “If my bony fingers don’t suit you, I can walk away and leave you to one of these other so-called healers.” She gestured toward the growing knot of staffers who were gathering at the perimeter, curious onlookers to what the fuss involving knights was about. “Pick out one with soft young fingers, or one with a pretty face, or one with a sweet and gentle disposition. I guarantee that the treatment you get will hurt more and be of poorer quality than what I will do. The choice is yours, Galahad. But I advise you to make up your mind quickly because you are bleeding heavily.” |
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| golden_trillium | Apr 9 2010, 10:23 PM Post #89 |
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Author: Unicorn Date: Thu Jul 17, 2008 6:21 am Dagonet She stirred and Dagonet watched her in silence... moved his hand from her a little for her to have more room as she was slowly waking up. A silent grunt left her and Dagonet watched still in silence as she rubbed her neck... and then he realised how much really he missed her. How much he missed those casual moments between them. How much he would like to be with her alone... not in the infirmary right now. His face expression was sad as he watched her... straight, but there was some longing in his features. Longing of the times he was so happy with his life. Having his son back, waiting for his child to be born... watching Saoirse's belly growing. Right then, he was happy. He was the most happy man on earth. Right now it would seem that the world turned around him... Everything he hoped to have disappeeared into the mists and earth seemed to swallow his good emotion only to give him sadness... Nothing more.
Sarmatian only stared into her eyes. He knew she will see the answer in his look. She was worrying about him... She constantly was. Like he about her. He was alright... There was numbness in his side and dryness in his mouth and hurt inside his soul, but other than that he felt better than few days ago. He knew it would take more than fe days to recover. It would take weeks... if not months... And he hated that thought. When she moved and sat up Dagonet was still watching her face and that is why he had not seen what Saoirse did. There was something wrong though as he could see it plainly on her face.
Only when she touched him somewhere below and said those words, Dagonet looked down... and his heart stopped instantly at the look of a blood. His eyes went wider and he frowned in fear. There was much blood upon her dress and his breeches which she tried to cover up. Gods!! It was her blood!! But... But from where? What happened? Immediately his hands went to her, to the place upon her dress coloured in red. He touched it only gently not to cause her any pain, but slowly and carefully he tucked up the material of her dress. "Gods... Saoirse!" he exclaimed in shock and worry. "Why didn't... you say anything?" He put a hand upon her wound gently and looked araound for anybody to help him with this. As for his luck there was no nurse around and he looked back with deep worry in his eyes... He would help her himself, but his hands weren't so sure as they were before, they were trembling right now. He knew that the wound probably was not so serious and probably he was overreacting to it... but it was his woman bleeding out! Gods! He tried to sit up himself to help her, but found his body too weak still to do so without any help. He grunted in frustration... He was not even able to help her in anyway. Once more he looked around for anybody to help Saoirse. "What happened?" he asked with fear in his voice. Mirtha
Mirtha was smiling upon her gentle face. He liked her... he liked her very much.. He cared for her and her feelings really. But was she feeling the same way? He had to laugh at her words. "Well, actually... You did!" he said with a mirth in his eyes. "But I liked it very much..." He was uneasy.. He was not with a woman so close for a long time. In fact nobody was close to him, ever. He always seemed to be alone with himself only to bare. He had to take care only of himself... and of his horse, ofcourse! But horse was not like a woman.. Now he found him somehow lost to the situation. He did not know how to take care of a woman. This was so strange for him to be here and hold a woman in his arms. Felt like his heart beated faster.
HE bowed his head with one uneasy smile, while she went to the door and handed him his cloak. He took it without even looking at her. So this was it... She told him that he in fact did not hurt her in anyway while he was drunk. But still he felt ashemed of his act and the thought that if she would not come willingly he would rape her instead. How could he even think of having a woman close to him, while he could get drunk anytime and hurt her? What right does he have to have anybody for himself? Men like him should be always alone for not to hurt anybody. The moment her hand touched his arm, Mirtha's thoughts broke and he looked at her with surprise, like he was seeing her for the first time today.
Her words surprised him even more! Stay with her? Here? Live here? Why was she asking him of that? He frowned in disbilieve and surprise. "I...I..." he started mumble before he actually looked into her eyes and his head went bowed once more. "I don't..." He could not say to her that he was afraid of hurting her in anyway, while being drunk.. and probably he will be drunk today again. "I will think of it, Ione." He lied.. He should not... He would not be the perfect man to be close to a gentle woman like herself.
He noticed how she touched her stomach and the expression on her face told him that not everything was alright with. "Ione? Is something wrong?" he asked directly frowning in worry. |
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| golden_trillium | Apr 9 2010, 10:25 PM Post #90 |
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Author: LadyCastus Date: Thu Jul 17, 2008 8:11 am Malcus Barbattus Malcus met Scipio's beady-eyed stare, understanding perfectly well what the man meant. Amadeus wanted Malcus to baby-sit the woad party while the optio spoke with Merlin alone. Nothing going. Arthur had sent Malcus on this mission with the purpose of keeping an eye on the fragile negotiations and Malcus would be damned if the optio would keep him out of the hut. Arthur wouldn't be happy. Malcus, with a deep, dark scowl on his face, rolled his eyes at Scipio. The captain had had enough. As Merlin approaced the door of the hut, Malcus stepped aside and allowed the magician to pass as he and Amadeus went inside. As Merlin passed, Barbattus caught a whiff of the woad leader and cringed. He, Merlin that is, smelled of the earth and years of...existence. It wasn't a smell that Malcus could quite place. Surprisingly, it wasn't a foul odor at all. It was more like a smell of nature, dirt, life. It was so real. While only mildly impressed though, Malcus could understand the awe of this man. Under different circumstances, Malcus couldn't help wonder what it would like to sit down and have an ale with the man. But that was ridiculous. Right now, Barbattus just wanted this shit to be over with...and to live to talk about it. Malcus didn't say a word, he just followed them inside the hut and placed his body sideways in the threshold. Just enough so that he had one eye on those two and one eye on the croud that had grown outside. The captain looked at Tristan and smirked, his hand poised on the hilt of a dagger hidden under his tunic. A look of just a bit longer and this will be over, in his eyes. The captain lowered his eyes and saw Tristan's clenched fists, knowing the scout wanted to rip somebody apart. But Barbattus couldn't tell if it was Merlin or Amadeus that angered the Sarmatian more. Barbattus gave a knowing nod and then he focused his attention on the conversation. |
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