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July 2008
Topic Started: Apr 3 2010, 09:33 PM (2,360 Views)
golden_trillium

Admin
Author: lady ione
Date: Thu Jul 17, 2008 10:02 pm
Adian


His mind wondered over the memories of a recent past. A past
in which he had shared love, given love and had been taught
how to live and love life. Thorn was the free spirit and she
had opened his heart to a myriad of feelings he never had
known he had. She had loved him without question...though
after he had seen her with another, he felt she had never
quite given herself fully to him. That her free spirit would
not let her settle for just one love.

Then there was the child she carried. Adian's eyes closed
blocking out the view on the other side of the window...trying
to picture the son or daughter they would have raised. Even
now that he had asked Tatiana to become engaged to him, Adian
wondered if he could ever fully let Thorn go. It felt like he
had been through so much in the past few weeks: the capture by
the woads, Juna whom he never forgot, his freedom...the
battle...his injury....Fiona. He had not forgotten their
kiss...their friendship.

Where had Fiona gone? Was she alright? She was a woad, and
gods help her if any Roman found out...tonight he'd go out to
find her, and take care of some unfinished business.

His life was a blur.

The young man's mind came back to the present, and he had
glanced over his shoulder briefly to see Tatiana looking at
him over the rim of her mug. Aye. He could find it in his
heart to love her just as he had Thorn, but it'd take time.
How long, he didn't know, but eventually, he'd love Tatiana.
For now he liked her and wanted time to get to know her
better. There was enough time before Spring to do just that...

Tatiana
 
"Thank you, Adian. I appreciate that very much."


"You are welcome, Tatiana," His voice was soft as he looked at
the young woman near the fire. "You are welcome to all that I
have, except for Thorn's clothing and belongings. Those are
hers..." He left out a heavy sigh. He'd store them in a chest
at the foot of the bed, he decided...her sword included. After
he asked Tatiana to marry him, he saw the look of happiness in
her eyes, and hoped that he could find the power to keep her
happy...

Tatiana
 
"Yes, Adian. Yes, I would be honored to marry you and
intertwine our lives together."


Still a bit too polite and perhaps a bit too prim and proper
for a stable hand....a lot of high breeding in this one...Well
she hangs around me enough, she'll loosen up... He liked
Tatiana, but well bred women...even ones that acted like it,
made him nervous a tad. He liked them romantic, but slightly
naughty. Well, Adian decided that Tatiana had the Romance part
down pat, but what if he went back to secretly hunting meat
for the tavern, and anonymously doing good for others? He
hoped he could keep it from her. He had been in trouble a long
time ago for doing good, and he was afraid of getting in
trouble again for hunting meat for the tavern and doing good
for others anonymously...

Adian thought he saw her blush, and he almost laughed, but
instead turned back toward the scene outside. So much to think
about and sort out...

He jumped as he felt a tiny hand on his arm, and the other on
his shoulder. Turning his head, Adian looked down at Tatiana,
smiling slightly, watching her move closer to kiss his cheek.

Tatiana
 
"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."


An eyebrow raised at her statement. She really saw that in
him? He had yelled at her. A large calloused hand went to her
face and cupped her cheek letting his thumb run over the soft
skin, "I have never met anyone like you, Tatiana. I can't even
begin to describe you....you suddenly just popped into my life
when things were at their worst. You seem to have that knack
for looking at life like some sort of dream...a way of
blocking out bad things..." He stumbled over the words as if
confused. Adian shivered at something Tatiana said...that it
was as if Thorn had brought them together.

Could she be right?









Ione

Mirtha
 
"Well, actually... You did!" "But I liked it very
much..."


"I liked the time as well, Mirtha..."

She had to laugh with him, but somewhere in that laugh of his
was an uneasiness she could not place. Perhaps they were both
moving too fast. The fact scared her that she really did not
know Mirtha that well, and that perhaps she was looking for
someone to take Javier's place. Inwardly she shook her head:
There'd be no one like Javier. Ever. He had been the first man
to love her completely, not caring about her status at the
fort. Inside, Ione felt a twinge of guilt as she recalled how
she had vowed to love Javier...she still wore the ring he had
placed there, and she swore she'd never remove it. Not even
for Mirtha. Ione was not quite sure that she could love Mirtha
the way she had loved Javier, but just having him close made
her feel safe...

Mirtha's hand brushed hers as he took his cloak from her. The
young weaver felt conflicted where Mirtha was concerned: She
had been raped twice in her life...if Mirtha got drunk enough,
would he be the same as they had been? So far, he had not hurt
her....Ione had to go and see a healer and talk over various
methods and herbs for stopping Mirtha from drinking to
access....

Neeve? I wonder if she'd help me with this?

As Ione reached out to touch his arm, a look of surprise had
come over his face as if this had been the first time she had
touched him, and she backed away a bit not knowing what to
make of the look....the look that changed into a frown...

Mirtha
 
"I...I..." "I don't..." "I will think of it, Ione."


After the woad attacked her, Ione realized just how dangerous
things were getting with woads and other enemies about. With
Javier gone, she felt unsecure...alone and afraid. She could
only nod at Mirtha's response. Somehow, Ione felt that she was
destined to spend life alone. She could see it in the way he
looked down, and had mumbled his answer. Smiling, Ione said,
"You don't have to if you don't want to. I cannot force you to
do something you are uncomfortable with...." She understood
that perhaps he just needed time. She also knew that this was
not a time for being naive: She had grown stronger, and more
determined, and she'd stay that way.

At the thought of Javier, Ione began to rub her stomach which
had been a bit queasy. Perhaps it was because she had not
eaten, but that she had not had a cycle either and she was
sick in the mornings. Ione saw Mirtha's concerned look on his
face, and his question made meet his gaze...

Mirtha
 
"Ione? Is something wrong?"


Ione looked down at her stomach, then back at Mirtha, "I-I
missed my cycle, and my stomach has been a bit jumpy
lately....I have been getting sick in the mornings...." Ione
turned from Mirtha and looked into the newly stoked fire, her
hands still rubbing her stomach. "I am so afraid,
Mirtha...I've never been...I mean...I think I am pregnant with
Javier's child..." There! It was out! Ione wondered how Mirtha
would take the news, and placed her arms about her waiting for
him to hit her for not telling him, or just stomping out of
the shop. In any case, there were few men at the fort who
wanted a woman with a child...

...Bowing her head, Ione's body shook with sobs....
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: Pinkie
Date: Fri Jul 18, 2008 1:21 pm
Amadeus


It was hardly bravery or bravado that kept Amadeus meeting
Merlin's eyes after the man gave him that look. It was a
tenacity that only a true Roman might understand. Amadeus
would die than admit fear in the face of a heathen like Merlin
in front of all these people. That was not bravery because
Amadeus was afraid of Merlin. And rightly so. But he would not
admit it - oh no!

He did not recognise nor realise that there was silent
communications going on between Merlin and the just released
men. He glanced up at Mordred giving the man a stiff nod of
his head, indicating for him to come forward. He only looked
back at Merlin when the woad spoke regarding Tristan.

Merlin
 
“By all means, Optio, keep your man with you if you’d
like. I will take one of mine, too… And then we shall
both feel more comfortable, hmm?”


Perfect.

The Optio gave another nod of his head granting this 'comfort'
to Merlin. However, when the woad leader went towards the hut
door, Scipio looked above his head and lifted his gloved hand
ordering Tristan from the hut. Just as he did that Barbattus
came forward. Amadeus frowned at the man and followed him
inside coming up alongside Malcus. He looked down his narrow
nose at the man with a non-chalant expression.

"I ordered you outside for a reason Captain. Mordred will
accompany me - " he said briskly, beckoning blindly with a
movement of his fingers for Mordred to come forward, not
taking his eyes off of Malcus except to cast a wary look at
Merlin. Amadeus was displeased that Malcus seemed intent on
acting against orders, presuming to be in charge despite
Arthur so clearly placing his Optio in charge. Of course it
would not go unmentioned to Arthur! Oh no - it would be a
scathing report that Amadeus would deliver to Arthur with
regards his less than exemplary Captain.









Galahad

Galahad didn't mean to hurt Lancelot all over again. He had
gripped onto his arm as a means to secure to himself one
person that might defend him against Lavinia. It wasn't that
she was an especially horrid woman - she was just ... just...
prickly. And she always lectured! And she had bony bloody
fingers! Gawain and Lancelot knew that - surely they wouldn't
leave him alone with Lavinia - not that.

Gawain
 
‘No, 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.”


It was a comfort - but a scant one indeed. Galahad looked up
at Gawain and not for the first time he thanked the gods for
gifting the fair Knight with copious amounts of patience. It
was not a trait that people might associate with Gawain, but
where Galahad was concerned the young knight knew he tried and
tried and bit and kicked at Gawain's patience all the time and
yet he never seemed to lose it. He never seemed to throw his
hands up in the air and abandon him. Even when, and Galahad
knew this was one of those times, he knew he deserved to be
abandonned.

Lancelot
 
"Ow, 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! 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 is young, and somewhat untried. For
Arthur, my lady,"


The youngest knight looked up at Lancelot with his mouth
hanging open, a drop of blood teetering on the edge of his
bottom lip and wavering there though he did not move - just
sat staring up at the First Knight in mild disbelief as he
turned on the charm... the charm on Lavinia! Was the man
cracked? Galahad's hand just recently pried from Lancelot's
arm fell limply to his lap and he looked from the Knight to
Lavinia then up at Gawain to see if he could shed any light on
this.

However, when Lancelot started to mock him again the blue-eyed
knight gave a defeated snarl and shifted away frmo Lancelot,
his head bowed and his brow deeply furrowed. As if things were
not shit enough in his life with his girlfriend cheating on
him, losing in a fight that he started, getting injured badly
enough to be brought to the infirmary and draw the wrath of
Lavinia onto his shoulders, he was now having to listen to
Lancelot rip the piss out of him.

"Prick." he mumbled desolately.

Mother Lavinia
 
“I do believe, Sarmatian, that you have defeated more
enemies by talking them to death than by your sword,”


Lavinia was coming.

And Fiona tagging along too.

Galahad kept his head bowed, pouting childishly as he looked
at the palm of his hand on his thigh. He only looked up when
he heard Lavinia talk and when he heard what she said it
brought about a smile to the young Knight's face. He tried to
hold back a snicker but he couldn't - it bubbled from his
moist lips and he glanced up at Gawain to see if he found it
funny too. It was nice to hear someone giving Lancelot a bit
of stick for once!

But Galahad's good humour was only to last a short time and
Lavinia then turned towards him, fusing him to the bed with
the full force of her Christian 'goodness'.

Mother Lavinia
 
“Stop simpering,”


Galahad's intake of breath was almost a gasp. His head snapped
up and he parted his lips to defend himself, but the old bat
just kept on talking over him -

"I'm not... !"

Mother Lavinia
 
“If my bony fingers don’t suit you, I can walk away and
leave you to one of these other so-called healers. 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.”


But she put up a good argument.

The dark-haired knight didn't look at her at all, instead he
looked off to one side in stark disgruntlement over being
accused of simpering. His eyes were stony, his fingers about
his stomach oozing blood from the wound which did pain awfully
- but for some reason Galahad couldn't concentrate on that. He
just wanted to throw his hands up in the air and tell the all
to leave him alone... Alina would have had it sorted by now.
Alina was probably canoodling Kolya right now. Was she going
to tend to the old Sarmatian's wounds?

Feeling terribly sorry for himself Galahad lowered his head
and shrugged his shoulders.

"Whatever - I don't care." he muttered and looked up edgeways
at Gawain, purposely ignoring Lancelot for his earlier comment
about him squealing - "You don't have to stay Gawain. Get back
to Neeve." he said quietly and not out of bravery... he just
wanted to be on his own now. The harsh facts that Lavinia was
the best person to stitch him up, the realisation that Alina
was probably going to help Kolya instead of him, the
realisation that he had made a gods-damned fool of himself was
feeling pretty raw now that the madness was dying down.
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: Kay
Date: Fri Jul 18, 2008 2:26 pm
Guinevere


The Woad princess shifted uneasily from one foot to the other.
She felt uncomfortable standing here with the enemy so close.
Her instincts were screaming at her to fight; or to flee;
whatever was most prudent. Instead she moved back to stand
beside Juna.

Mona was still on the ground and Guinvevere glanced at the
crazed girl briefly, before addressing Juna.

"She still bleeds" Guinevere observed. "She attacked me; it
was totally without provacation. I believe she has lost all
reason"
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: Pinkie
Date: Fri Jul 18, 2008 5:10 pm
Mari


Tentative.. Mari didn't really know what that word meant but
something about their closeness now was tentative. She could
feel something changing and her heart raced. She didn't know
what it was and didn't know how to stop it's impending
darkness until it had swollen between them creating a wedge.
The young woman looked at Milan's hand against hers and then
up to his face, worry obviously etched there as she tried to
understand why he had been so scared when he was younger.

Milan
 
"I...I ccan't... Please...don' look...at mme...
Don'...ll..ook at me...Mari..."


The movements he made were all wrong.

Milan moved away from her with a sobbing cough. Mari's eyes
widened and her mouth dropped open. He stepped away from her
and her hand remained in mid-air, her fingers twitching
inwards to empty space where his chest had been. His stuttered
words were heartbreaking - Mari watched him with wide brown
eyes as he turned away from her. He moved frantically, rubbing
at his arm and she had no idea what it was. At first.
She cotninued to watch and something triggered in her mind,
something remembered from a long time ago. His wrist - a mark
upon his wrist. What had that got to do with now?

Mari took a step after Milan, hitching a breath to ask him
what was wrong when he slumped down on the bed and turned his
palm out towards her, warding her off. The young woman was
startled by his reaction and when he ordered her not to look
she whirled around, turning her back to him. Mari lifted a
hand to her mouth and looked wide-eyed at the broken
door-frame, her lips moving but no words uttered from her lips
as she tried to gather herself.

"I'm... I'm sorry, " she mumbled, shaking herh ead looking
down at the ground. It took a moment for her to gather her
senses and she whirled just as quickly to look at Milan,
tottering the few steps forward to the bed and fell to her
knees before him, hands clasped on her thighs and her pleading
eyes uplifted to his. Seeing him hiding behind his face was a
torture and she reached forward and resolutely clasped his
wrist, pulling his hand away from his face.

"Look at me - look.. please, Milan look at me." Mari
whispered. Mari was not the most world-wise person in Badon
Hill, but she always moved and acted from the heart. When it
came to Milan it was a very pure and wholesome reaction as she
skooched forward, trying to reveal his face to her beseeching
eyes. "Don't hide from me, you don't have to. I won't... I
can't... please tell me why this happens Milan. Whenever we
talk about your past you you you... do this, you turn away
from me and won't let me know anything about it. Don't you
trust me?" the young woman was whispering ever so quietly, her
fingers twitching as she hesitated to touch Milan again,
worried that he was going to lash out, that he would run off
the other direction instead.









Saoirse

Saoirse hadn't really thought out her idea that no one should
know she had been hurt during teh battle. It wasn't really a
masochistic thing, not that she was aware of. There had just
been so much else going onthat she hadn't seen the right
moment to actually stick her hand up and say 'ouch'. So it had
festered, lingered and now after a night the wound on her
thigh had become a rather nasty looking thing. It was about
the size of her little finger and only deep really in the
middle - but it was bleeding a hell of alot, and looking at
Dagonet's terrified green-grey eyes when he saw the blood made
Saoirse realise her mistake.

She made to apologise as he hastily hitched up her skirt to
view the damage. The Irish woman flinched, not in pain, but
embarrassment and a disastrous need not to have him fuss over
this. Her cheeks had colored red and she had her hands over
her lovers, trying to cover the wound but it was too late.

Dagonet
 
"Gods... Saoirse! Why didn't... you say anything? What
happened?"


Dagonet placed a hand over the wound.

And it hurt.

Saoirse hissed in pain and her fingers clamped down around
Dagonet's hand upon her wound, nails digging into the side of
his hand as she lifted her blues eyes sharply to the
Sarmatians face. She skooched backwards, attempting to move
herself away from him, not wanting him to worry but he was
already doing it, trying to rise up onto his elbows which he
couldn't do. The red head moved back towards him again,
instinctively reaching out to help him sit up a little even
though doing that would mean he would get a better look at
what she was trying to hide.

His pleading words struck a chord in her heart and she could
not look at him, instead looking down at his too-big hands
that seemed to be shaking.

"It was the battle - tha's all. Some eejit fell wi' a dagger
in his hand an' I was stupidly in his way. It's not as bad as
it looks Dagonet. You know how wounds are. It's just not
wrapped which is why it's bleedin' s'much. Really, honestly -
it's fine, don't worry bout it." the woman said flippantly,
ignoring the voice in the back of her head accusing her of
being a lying fool, knowing that had she gotten the blasted
thing looked at yesterday it would not have had a chance to
become swollen and infected the way it was now.

"I got him back fer it though." she tried humour, giving the
knight a wry smile though there were still lines of worry
about her eyes, "He came out of it alot worse than I did..."
Saoirse said sliding her hand along Dagonet's hand to his
wrist, wrapping her fingers about the limb and trying to
soothe his concerns.









Kolya

Not exactly how he had seen spending his day... Kolya walked
off from the brawl the victor, undeniably, but he didn't feel
like the victor. He walked off alone after all - it was
Galahad who had his brothers around him, who had someone
looking over his clumsy, arrogant shoulder to make sure he was
ok. No one looked over Kolya's shoulder, no-one cared what
happened to him now did they? He was beyond his best. If he
was a horse they would have put him out of his misery by now.

As the old Sarmatian walked away from the tavern he hobbled a
little, favouring one side with an arm slung across his
middle. He was sore where he had been punched in the jaw and
one of his fists was grazed and bloody from hitting someone -
perhaps Galahad? And he had scratched his back off somethign
when Galahad had bowled into them all and sent them flying. On
top of that he was fucking saturated from the two women
thinking it their business to interfere in men's stuff.

Lifting his haggard face to the cloudy skies Kolya let out a
deep and rasping breath. He lifted his free hand and rubbed
his fingertips against his bearded chin, turned a corner and
saw Alina. She was standing up on the wall as everyone did
when upset, staring out over the plains and pondering on
life's cruelties no doubt.

Kolya stopped in mid-step and looked back over his shoulder,
considering turning away and just leaving her be. She didn't
need him in her life - he'd fucked her up enough as it was,
why stick around longer and make her life more of a misery?
The Sarmatian cleared his throat and flexed his fingers, his
hand falling away from his stomach. But all the good
intentions in the world could not stop him - they never had
before, why would tehy now?

Knowing it would be best to turn and leave her be, Kolya put
his boot on the first step and went most of the way to the
top, stopping about three steps down. He heaved a sigh and
turned, leaning his back against the wall and slid down to sit
on the step. He looked down at the palm of his hand, his arm
resting on his hard kneecap , fingers spread, expression
pensive.

"It's not what I would have wanted ya know... What happened
down there?" he hazarded, not sure if she was in a violent
tantrum mood or if she was just zapped of all life altogether.
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: Lancelot
Date: Fri Jul 18, 2008 7:04 pm
Lancelot


Galahad's expression and his downtrodden face said worlds to
Lancelot, but he kept on with the nun, knowing if he didn't
hold the momentum of his conversation with Lavinia, any chance
he had of getting her to smile and winning the bet was gone.
He knew Galahad was probably thinking he was off his rocker
for talking to the old woman as he was, but noting Gawain's
amused look, he at least figured the other knight got it.

Galahad
 
"Prick."


Mother Lavinia
 
“I do believe, Sarmatian, that you have defeated more
enemies by talking them to death than by your sword,”


Lancelot turned on Galahad. "I heard that, you little shit.
I'm doing this for your benefit, so play nice, otherwise Uncle
Lancelot is going to get out his pointy pieces of steel," he
said in a harsh whisper between clenched teeth. Then he
whipped his head around to face the nun again. "I see you know
me, my lady." He laughed, only a bit forced, but as before,
the sound did not reflect in the eye that wasn't swollen
painfully shut.

He looked around the area, thinking perhaps he should at least
wipe the now caking and dried blood out of it, when Lavinia
got down to it.

Mother Lavinia
 
The choice is yours, Galahad. But I advise you to make up your mind quickly because you are bleeding heavily.”


Galahad
 
"Whatever - I don't care. You don't have to stay Gawain.
Get back to Neeve."


Lancelot shot an impatient snort out of his nose. "Gawain -
have you ever heard anything more ridiculous in your life? Let
the woman help you, pup, otherwise your insides will soon be
your outsides and I for one am not having Arthur come down
here while he's wounded himself and chastise you as you
deserve. I'm sure he'd be very happy to leave you to this
good, Christian lady's care, hm?" He rocked back and forth a
bit on his heels, and gave Lavinia a concerned face, doing his
best to seem innocent and only worried for Galahad. "I'm sure
you're the best around," he added confidently, and then winced
as his arm and eye twinged at the same moment.

"Fucker," he breathed in their own tongue, shooting Galahad an
annoyed glance, then switched back to Briton. "Let the nun do
as she will, brother. You need the care, and as much as you'd
like her to be here, your woman is gone."

He sighed heavily and scrubbed at his face, the drying blood
itching and his general exhaustion making itself known again.
Lancelot, his truth always lurking somewhere behind the mask
of annoying bastard he wore all too easily, met Galahad's eyes
again. "We need you well," he finished, his tone matching his
deadpan face - and he meant it. For once. Actually, as he
always did - he just didn't show that side to many.

As if I'd tell Arthur the real side of this. You'd have to
flog me first.

What could I say to him now, at any rate? What can I say to
him -

He grumbled to himself and stiffly jerked a small stool over
to where he could lower his sore body onto it. "You've got me,
pup, as much as you don't want me. Do what you need to,
Gawain. I'm not leaving."

I truly have lost my mind.
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: golden_trillium
Date: Fri Jul 18, 2008 7:46 pm
Tristan and Merlin


Amadeus
 
”I ordered you outside for a reason, Captain. Mordred
will accompany me.”


Safely out of the Optio’s direct sight- he was standing behind
his back, outside the hut’s doorway, as Scipio clearly did not
desire his presence within- Tristan allowed himself a small,
discreet roll of his eyes as the Optio attempted to arrange
things to his liking. Whether Scipio had Mordred in there, or
Barbattus, it wouldn’t make much difference, in the scout’s
opinion. Merlin was not about to concede anything, and anyone
who thought otherwise was a fool. Even now he seemed a bit
detached, alert, yes, but just slightly bored with the
proceedings necessary to sort out who was to be in the hut, as
if the arrangements made no difference to him, either. And
they didn’t. He would send his fanatical devil people wherever
he damn well wanted them, no matter what he said. The Woads
never did otherwise- as the recent attacks proved.

“Bloody…” he mouthed as he caught Barbattus’s eyes from the
other side of the hut doorway, shaking his head, though he did
not finish the curse. This tense standoff was taking its toll
on even the scout’s very steady nerves- he could feel it
wearing on him, the way that being by himself in the
wilderness didn’t. This was talking, at which the scout was no
good. Either some action, or they got the hell out of here-
that was what Tristan much preferred, but neither seemed
likely at the moment. That didn’t keep him from watching,
always watching everything, though- he even noted it when
Guinevere went over to the Woad healer to confer on the
condition of the injured woman, keeping part of an eye on them
to see what commenced.
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golden_trillium

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Author: linnet
Date: Fri Jul 18, 2008 8:13 pm

Juna


Merlin
 
“By all means, Optio, keep your man with you if you’d
like. I will take one of mine, too…And then we shall
both feel more comfortable, hmm?”


Juna didn’t like it at all that Merlin was going into the hut
to do more talking with the Roman In-Charge. She suspected
trickery, but had no way of knowing who was tricking who. She
didn’t like that she wouldn’t be able to see if ‘anyone’ got
hurt. And she didn’t like that more Romans than Woads seemed
to be entering the hut. The dark haired healer cast an angry
glance toward Neeria, who had brought Merlin’s enemies here,
and created this anxiety filled situation. The traitor wore an
expression of proud contempt. She showed no anxiety, nor
regret for what she’d done, only defiance. Juna’s jaw clenched
in loathing, a long forgotten feeling she’d experienced years
ago whenever she looked at her first ‘husband’.

She watched the hut warily, and tried to listen for any
alarming sounds from within. Guinevere’s approach broke into
Juna’s focus, but it was actually a welcome distraction from
her growing nervousness.

Guinevere
 
"She still bleeds. She attacked me; it was totally
without provacation. I believe she has lost all reason"


Ah, so that explained why Merlin’s daughter had signaled for
Juna to let the bloodied woman be. But it left a lot more
unexplained. The healer looked questioningly at Guinevere, and
moved to kneel beside the wounded Woad. “I think it’s too late
to save her, even if I try. She can be left to bleed to
death,” Juna said looking up at the royal daughter. “Or she
can be killed quickly and spared the agony. Or I can do what
little I might to keep her alive.” In the absence of Merlin,
Juna would do as Guinevere wished. She had no feelings for
this dying crazed woman, and she wasn’t the type of healer who
felt compelled to save every hopeless looking patient she
encountered.
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golden_trillium

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Author: LadyCastus
Date: Fri Jul 18, 2008 9:01 pm
Mona


Mona laid in the dirt with her ear pressed firmly on the
ground. She thought she heard voices coming from beneath the
soil and it fascinated her. The injured woman's breathing was
labored and she coughed to clear her full lungs. She turned
her head slightly and spit out the blood in her mouth into a
beautiful, bright spray. She laughed at the sight of the spew
and then put her ear back down to the ground, intent on making
out what "they" were saying. Mona was totally oblivious to
what was going on around her.

With one hand, Mona repeatedly pulled at strands of her long
and matted blonde hair, removing them straight from the root.
Tiny bits of her scalp clung to the ends of each piece as she
happily plucked the tresses from her fingers.

Guinevere
 
"She still bleeds. She attacked me; it was totally
without provacation. I believe she has lost all reason"


Somewhere in the bowels of her sanity, Mona recognized
Guinevere's voice behind her and injured, crazed woman
suddenly gnashed her teeth and spat out more blood.

Juna
 
“I think it’s too late to save her, even if I try. She
can be left to bleed to death. Or she can be killed
quickly and spared the agony. Or I can do what little I
might to keep her alive.”


Hearing a second voice, Mona rolled and twisted her body,
causing pain to flood her body again. The woman wailed loudly
like a wounded animal and the intensity of her injuries washed
over her, once again threatening her conscienceness. Somehow,
she rolled onto her back so that she could see the other two
women. When she saw them, Mona gasped and then choked,
throwing herself into a coughing fit.

The two women had horns growing from their heads.

Mona's mouth dropped open as she watched Juna's antlers sprout
from the top of her head. Guinevere's single horn petruded
directly from the middle of her forehead, right between her
eyes.

"What do you want from me?" Mona whispered, wide-eyed and
frightened. Suddenly, the injured woman began frantically
digging into the earth. She raked her hands across the hard
ground, jamming dirt into her nailbeds as she tried to dig a
hole. She was going to hide in it. Maybe the voices could help
her.

"Don't hurt me," she whimpered to the women watching her. Then
she continued to dig.
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golden_trillium

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Author: sabor ice
Date: Sat Jul 19, 2008 2:25 am
Mordred & Ash


Amadeus
 
"I ordered you outside for a reason Captain. Mordred
will accompany me - "


Mordred did not presume Merlin to be a man easily intimidated,
but he also believed the man to be no fool. The Woad leader
had tasted but a sample of what Rome was capable of. With
everything to lose and nothing to gain, why did he continue to
lead this foolish resistance? Was his following of deranged
flea-infested sins against nature storming half-naked and
barefoot across Briton lands truly his idea of a magnum opus?
Dark eyes swiveled toward a group of Woads not far away,
briefly scanning the feral faces of the little blonde mute and
her guardian, the wilting form of an injured Woad girl and
what he suspected to be a healer trying to tend to her. His
soulless gaze hesitated a moment on Juna. Was there nothing in
this world the so-called Magician held sacred? Was he so eager
and willing to sacrifice all those who had pledged their
loyalty to him? Not that Mordred objected to mass genocide,
but every man still had his limits, even a self-righteous
animosity like Merlin. What was Merlin's weakness? What would
it take to break him?

Mordred registered Amadeus' silent instruction to advance even
before the Optio had called for his company inside of the hut.
He stepped past Tristan and Malcus - a mocking and sardonic
light to his eyes as he momentarily met the Commander's gaze -
before entering after the Optio and coming to stand partially
behind him. His hand remained atop the hilt of the re-assuring
cool steel at his side, cold and penetrating eyes silently
assessing Merlin's man, and then the so-called Magician
himself. Waiting.

Outside Ash remained alongside his brethren. Mona's theatrics
had managed to successfully distract him for a time. He cocked
an eyebrow at the bloody mess, not a trace of sympathy for the
traitor's safety nor seemingly sudden lack of sanity evident
in his dark eyes. As far as he was concerned, Juna was wasting
her time. Neeria, the other traitor, lingered nearby, stewing
in a stupor of false confusion and innocence. Ash wondered if
she'd be foolish enough to try and plead insanity for her
conspiratorial involvements with the Romans.

The Woad turned his attention back to the Romans in time to
see two of them enter the hut - one of them being the dark
knight who had taken Eala. Eala still held a fistful of his tunic down at his side, and he raised a hand to rest at the back of her neck, giving her a re-assuring nod then that Merlin would be fine. Ash counted on the Romans' stupidity, but did not doubt Nolan's pre-emptive skill. Merlin was well looked after.
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Author: LadyCastus
Date: Sat Jul 19, 2008 12:22 pm
Malcus Barbattus


Malcus didn't move as Mordred slid past him and stepped inside
the hut. The captain's jaw clenched as he felt his blood boil.
Up until that moment, he still had no real reason to dislike
or to distrust Mordred but the smug look in the knight's eyes
as he passed made Malcus angry. What the bloody fuck was going
on here? Suddenly, Amadeus' voice flooded the small hut.

Amadeus
 
"I ordered you outside for a reason Captain. Mordred
will accompany me - "


Malcus bit the inside of his cheek with such intensity, he
tasted his own blood instantly. Unable to contain himself any
longer, Malcus squeezed the hilt of the dagger so tightly, his
knuckles turned white. Barbattus looked at Tristan once again
with the dark storm still brewing on his face, before he
approached Amadeus in two full strides. The captain pressed
his armor breast plate into Scipio's back and leaned into him
so that Malcus' mouth was right at the optio's ear. Barbattus
fought for control as his voice quivered.

"I don't give two wenches' tits what you ordered. I'm going to
remind you sir," he said through gritted teeth, with
particular emphasis on the "sir", "that I am on this mission
under the direct order of Artorius Castus, Commander of Badon
Keep and by his authority, and his alone," Barbattus spat, "I
will stand my ground during these negotiations."

Then Barbattus pushed his chest just a little farther into
Scipio and said, with his hot breath on the other man's skin,
just above a whisper, "now get the bloody fuck on with it!"

The captain stepped back from the optio, boring his dark eyes
into the other man's gray irises and moved back to his
position in the threshold of the hut door, his hand trembling.
Malcus looked over at Tristan and grunted while they waited to
see what the optio would do next.
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Author: Unicorn
Date: Sat Jul 19, 2008 1:06 pm
Dagonet


It was obvious that Saoirse wanted to cover her wound and
didn't want get her lover worried. But it was already too
late. Dagonet was terrified with mere sight of blood, and
seeing the blood made his heart beat a little faster.
Gods! How could he not know that she was injured?

It hurted her...

When he touched the wound Saoirse's hand squeezed his large
one with such force that Dagonet looked up quickly at her face
in horror. He should be more careful about this! He rapidly
moved his hands away from the wound and allowed her to help
him sit up a little. His side burnt him in sharp pain with
those motion and he winced slightly to it, but kept his eyes
upon Saoirse's face. His hands were trembling and he felt
panic creeping into him fast.

Saoirse
 
"It was the battle - tha's all. Some eejit fell wi' a
dagger in his hand an' I was stupidly in his way. It's
not as bad as it looks Dagonet. You know how wounds are.
It's just not wrapped which is why it's bleedin' s'much.
Really, honestly - it's fine, don't worry bout it."


Her gaze left him as he asked the question, and he instantly
looked back at the wound. It was red, swollen and bleeding...
It looked badly. Normally he would just take the needed items
and take care of them himself, right now he found himself not
ready to decide anything about it. He looked back into her
eyes and shook his head.

Saoirse
 
"I got him back fer it though. He came out of it alot
worse than I did..."


Her hand grasped his wrist to assure him, everything was
alright. But he knew it was not. He took his sheet and pressed
around the wound to clear the blood away...

"Saoirse.... This is besides the point!" he said while shaking
his head, frustration and rebuke evident in his voice. "Why
the hell, you left it like this?? You know how dangerous it
is!"

He was able finally to calm himself a little, his hands
stopped shaking so hard as he gently cleaned the area around
the cut itself. It was not deep, but left like this was
serious. He firmly pressed his hand to the wound to stop
bleeding. He could not take care of this himself...

"Any help here?" he asked loudly knowing that some healers
should hear him.
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Author: linnet
Date: Sat Jul 19, 2008 3:33 pm

Gawain and Mother Lavinia


Gawain grew a little nervous when his advice to Galahad
elicited a look of less than normal disdain from Lavinia. That
would be all he needed, if she was to smile at something he
did or said. Lancelot would undoubtedly claim the credit and
Gawain’s finances would be set seriously back.

Galahad
 
"Prick.”


Lancelot
 
"I heard that, you little shit. I'm doing this for your
benefit, so play nice, otherwise Uncle Lancelot is going
to get out his pointy pieces of steel……I see you know
me, my lady."


Galahad
 
“ Whatever - I don't care."


Lanclelot
 
“Fucker.”


Actually, the blonde knight thought things were going pretty
well at the moment. Galahad had resigned himself to letting
the nun fix him up, and that was Gawain’s first priority. An
added bonus was that the name-calling and bickering between
his friend and Lancelot meant that the Suave Knight wasn’t
using the time to soften up Lavinia. And so far, her crabby
old face was still hard as granite; wrinkly, saggy granite,
but rock solid mean.

Galahad
 
"You don't have to stay Gawain. Get back to Neeve."


Gawain kept his hand on Galahad’s shoulder and looked into his
sad hopeless eyes. He just shook his head slowly, not to say
no, but out of realization that Galahad was as miserable as
he’d ever seen him. Gawain’s instinct was to find Alina and
drag her here to look at what she’d caused. Or to knock Kolya
unconscious the way he’d had to do with Galahad, but not
holding back this time. “I’ll just stick around until
Lavinia’s taken care of you,” he said, trying to sound
offhand, rather than mothering. “Then if you want to be alone,
I’ll go.”

Lancelot
 
"Gawain - have you ever heard anything more ridiculous
in your life? Let the woman help you, pup, otherwise
your insides will soon be your outsides and I for one am
not having Arthur come down here while he's wounded
himself and chastise you as you deserve. I'm sure he'd
be very happy to leave you to this good, Christian
lady's care, hm? I'm sure you're the best around. You've
got me, pup, as much as you don't want me. Do what you
need to, Gawain. I'm not leaving."


“No one is going anywhere yet,” Lavinia answered sternly. She
looked from Lancelot to Gawain. “Both of you need to be
checked out and worked on before you leave. So make yourselves
comfortable while your reluctant friend is mended.” Then she
impatiently shooed away the gaggle of nosy onlookers, with a
threatening, “Back to your duties, you dolts.”

“Now,” the nun said, turning to the quiet girl who was ‘with’
Gawain. “If you still want to help, young lady, please assist
Galahad out of his tunic, and start cleaning the blood from
around his wound – very carefully.” She nodded toward a large
basin of water and a stack of cloths on a table near the bed.
“I have to get a couple of things I’ll need, and will be right
back.” With that Lavinia hurried off to her supply room,
relieved to temporarily escape the avalanche of random words
that occurred every time the Edgy One opened his mouth.
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golden_trillium

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Author: sabor ice
Date: Sun Jul 20, 2008 1:47 am
Alina


Kolya
 
"It's not what I would have wanted ya know... What
happened down there?"


Alina stared out over the wall for what seemed like a
lifetime, pondering life and its vindictiveness, searching for
answers to questions she should've already knew. Her mind was
blind, and she was incapable of finding her way through the
tricking darkness. It lied to her, provoking thoughts and
emotions to sway one way for the other, swirling them around
until she found herself nearly ill with dizziness. Resigned,
she closed her eyes with a deep sigh then, taking in what
comfort she could from the surrounding silence. She did
nothing, thought nothing, just attempted to breathe easy.
Solitude provided her with a much needed quantum of solace.

It was short lived. A voice broke her concentration. His
voice.

She sighed again as she drew herself up a bit straighter,
tightening the folds of her mucked up cloak around her slender
form with one hand, while the other clenched at her side. Her
face felt sticky and marred by the dirt and grime drying
against her fair skin, but a bath was currently the least of
her concerns. Hazy brown eyes stared ahead into the distance.
After everything that had just happened, of all times for him
to seek her out, he had chosen to do so now. But, that was
Kolya for you. Had the woman retained even a single humorous
bone in her body, she might've laughed at his foolish
audacity. Her former self might've flustered with irritation,
gotten angry even. But where decisive emotion should've been,
there was nothing. A void had interrupted her myriad of
feelings.

"Then, why are you here?" she finally asked, her tone
reserved. He claimed to have not meant for the fight with
Galahad to happen, so why then was he furthermore endangering
himself, as well as Galahad, by approaching her? She pivoted
and stood near the edge, half-hooded eyes peering down at him
on the steps. "I think we've all had quite enough for one day,
don't you?"
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Author: Elessars Girl
Date: Sun Jul 20, 2008 8:31 am

Arthur


Arthur’s smile broadened as Darya briefly pressed her soft
lips to the top of his knuckles. The corners of his eyes
crinkled with genuine affection as Darya shifted closer on the
bed and he brought that hand (upon her releasing it) to rest
on her hip while accepting her tender kiss. Unfortunately,
Arthur’s other hand had to remain pressed over his stitches as
the wound continued to ache. But Arthur would not allow his
poor physical condition to dominate his expression as he
wished to avoid further worrying Darya. Gentle green eyes met
brown and remained open even as Darya kissed Arthur
again….this time with a hint of passion and perhaps even
possession in her touch. Arthur reacted with a flash of darker
thoughts again, but quickly shoved them aside as he willingly
returned the kiss. He allowed Darya her way simply because her
kiss was the intimate touch that Arthur had requested and
needed right now. Oh Eyla would have given the Roman any
physical ministration that he’d requested of her, for a price
of course. But that was not Arthur’s way and Darya was his
lover, his…and in his own way, he did love her as well.

Darya
 
"I love you, Arthur......and I am so incredibly glad to
have you back alive..."


I love you, Arthur. And THAT simple little phrase meant
‘everything’ to Arthur. And Darya gave it to him willingly…yet
the one who…No, that wound must be allowed to heal over. I
cannot keep bleeding for him nor can I allow myself to be that
vulnerable ever again. Darya then proceeded to help Arthur
forget those heavier thoughts with yet another tender kiss;
and thankfully less possessively this time.

Darya
 
"Do you know how much I need you...we....need you?"


Surely it was his exhaustion mixed with the discomforts he
still suffered from his wounded side that kept the Roman from
hearing the subtle hint in Darya’s words; as it did not occur
to Arthur that his lover was or ever could be with child when
she’d said ‘we’. Also, Arthur was the appointed Roman
Commander of this fortress and thus accustomed – and born with
the inherent drive –to protecting those in his charge. His
body certainly bore the scars in testament to Arthur’s
devotion to those under his command….or truly anyone in need
of rescue from harm.

“I pray that you need me at least as much as I need you,
Angel,” Arthur answered reassuringly in hopes of lessening her
obviously serious concerns while he lifted his hand to
carefully brush aside a long strand of hair from Darya’s face.

For a few moments, Arthur allowed himself to set aside his own
concerns over the mission of peace he’d sent Scipio and
Barbattus on to Merlin in his stead. He allowed himself to
forego brooding over the duty and responsibilities he was
bound to in the eyes of God and Rome…..for a few quiet moments
alone with the one who loved him. But Arthur’s overwhelming
need to fulfill his role as ‘Commander’ and ‘Protector’ would
not be silenced for long. I must recover and quickly….Oh
merciful God, heal the wounds to my body so that I may show
only strength in the face of adversity. And Arthur was certain
that he would have a need to be strong again rather
quickly….his gut ached with an unnamed
apprehension….’something’ worked against peace and against the
safe-keeping of the fortress and its inhabitants…Arthur felt
dread around him despite not knowing what evil was at work
here. And then as Darya lay down beside him, a more personal
concern had the lines in his brow thickening….

“Tell me what troubles you….were you injured in the attack?
How did you fare?” Arthur asked with concern laced in his
quiet tone. Perhaps that was what troubled Darya…she was
concealing an injury or perhaps some other distasteful thing
from him. Arthur’s green eyes studied his lover’s delicate
features with renewed scrutiny…searching for some indication
of what she might be hiding behind those dark eyes; his index
finger lightly trailed along her jaw and finally halted as the
tip brushed over her bottom lip.
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golden_trillium

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Author: Kay
Date: Sun Jul 20, 2008 9:17 am
Guinevere


Juna
 
“I think it’s too late to save her, even if I try. She
can be left to bleed to death. Or she can be killed
quickly and spared the agony. Or I can do what little I
might to keep her alive.”


Guinevere glanced at Mona again. She had her ear pressed
against the ground; she turned and spat out some blood before
resuming her stance. The princess shook her head; the girl was
clearly insane; she even laughed at the sight of her own
blood. And now she was ripping out strands of her own hair and
gnashing her teeth.

Mona turned to look at the two women and began wailing and
whimpering.

Mona
 
"What do you want from me. Don't hurt me,"


The girl was actually digging in the dirt with her bare hands.
Guinevere's intincts told her to kill the girl now, to end her
misery, for she seemed beyond help, but the princess wanted
her father to see the girl for himself, so that he would know
why his daughter had been forced to attack her long time
comrade.

Shuddering, Guinevere turned away from the pitiful sight and
spoke quietly to Juna.

"Patch her up; if she will let you" she said. "I want my
father to see what the girl has become"
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