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July 2008
Topic Started: Apr 3 2010, 09:33 PM (2,359 Views)
golden_trillium

Admin
Author: Starbelle
Date: Sun Jul 20, 2008 11:56 am
Tatiana


Seeing the reaction on Adian's face that her words evoked in
him and watching as he moved one large hand to encompass her
face as his thumb stroked her cheek. She leaned her head into
his soft touch and closed her eyes half-way as if she was
starved for affection.

Adian
 
"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..."


Hearing him reply to her words, as well as the almost confused
tone of voice that he used, she looked up into his heather
gray eyes with her soft green ones. "A wisewoman once told me
that things happen for a reason. However, as far as trying to
describe me, Adian, its not quite exactly that easy to do."
Tatiana replied a mischievious grin softly curling the corners
of her lips briefly upward before she moved her tiny hand from
its place on his shoulder up into the hair on his neck softly
curling her fingers there, and stretching her lithe form,
placed a soft kiss on his lips with her own as if sealing a
promise.

I'll take good care of him for you, Lady Thorn. I promise
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: TwistOfShadows
Date: Sun Jul 20, 2008 3:30 pm
Ceinwyn and Nolan


Amadeus
 
"Hmm -- perhaps we could slit all their throats and do
you a favour hmm?"


Ceinwyn was not truly maddened, she was borderline. Her green
eyes burnt fervently, and wore the shadows and intensity of
the past. The Woad woman had seen numerous battles, and she
had witnessed her mother’s death and rape at Roman hands. Her
experience at the hands of Lancelot was merely another reason
to question reality and push her mind into torment. She had no
patience anymore, she had no rational mind…she merely watched
the Romans and Woads dance around each other with pretty
semantics. The Optio was arrogant, but he was a coward.
Ceinwyn turned to him when he addressed her, but her gaze was
lazy and completely uncaring. Perhaps they should cut his
throat and allow the Sarmatian to lead in politics alongside
bravery? Ceinwyn looked at Nolan, and she saw the stoic
expression that turned his face to stone. The Woad military
leader was losing patience also, but he stood strong alongside
Merlin, awaiting order and responsibility.

Amadeus
 
"You have one of my men - And I have three of yours who
were bound, gagged and left here by someone who was not
us so we can only presume .. it was your own. What's say
you dismiss your numbers, release my men, I shall
release yours and we can move somewhere private to speak
upon important matters without ... all these
interruptions? That way we both get what we want."


Merlin
 
"You can have him as soon as you release my men, then.
And once that hut is cleared out, we can use it for this
privacy you so desire, hmm? “By all means, Optio, keep
your man with you if you’d like. I will take one of
mine, too…”"


Nolan was beckoned over, and he moved without hesitation. The
Woad watched Tristan lay out the bodies, and his gaze lingered
on the Scout. There was something strange about the slave,
something enigmatic, but he was a slave. The Woad looked to
the Optio, and he stepped in closer to Merlin’s side. The
Roman was sarcasm and arrogance personified, but he had no
fibre to his words. Almost everyone in the clearing had
witnessed his cowardice, his willingness to send a Sarmatian
into the crossfire. Honour? He did not know the meaning of the
word, and so Nolan did not fear him. The Woad’s eyes glanced
down the Roman’s slim form, and he wrinkled his nose in
distaste. This man would be cut down easily. He would prove no
challenge should be decide against peace today. As they
entered the hut, Nolan kept close to Merlin’s side. He was
aware of the other presences, but let them try anything…

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


Malcus
 
"I don't give two wenches' tits what you ordered. I'm
going to remind you 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,I will
stand my ground during these negotiations."


Nolan turned slowly to Barbattus and raised his eyebrows.
These men were squabbling like children, and it looked
ridiculous. How could they stand strong, stand bravely, when
their own loyalties were battered and bruised? These men were
not comrades, they were not even friends, and Nolan was bored
of their pettiness. He looked to Merlin, and then to the
outside of the hut. Ceinwyn had come closer to the hut, but
not close enough to hear anything. She stood strong, and for a
moment, Nolan was grateful that her loyalty seemed unwavering.
She was mad, and yet made these petty Romans seem ridiculous.
The Woad slipped a hand to the hilt of his dagger, and
breathed a ragged breath from his lips. The ‘Captain’ was
arguing for the sake of arguing, and the Optio clearly lacked
control over his men. The situation was stupid. Pathetic.
With a sudden and rude movement, Nolan spat on the floor, and
spoke to Merlin. In their own tongue.

“They squabble like children. They cannot even negotiate
between themselves.”
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: linnet
Date: Sun Jul 20, 2008 8:52 pm

Juna


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


Juna looked with raised eyebrows at Guinevere, as though to
say ‘if you’re sure’. She continued to kneel next to the
injured woman, who was acting and looking more like a rabid
dying animal than a human. The healer grabbed the creature’s
wrists to stop her from tearing clumps of hair out by the
roots and scalp. Spots of blood oozed from the woman’s head,
streaking her blond hair with dark red. A sudden spray of
blood erupted from the lunatic’s mouth, and Juna barely
managed to move quickly enough to avoid being splattered.

Why Merlin should have to witness this madness wasn’t apparent
to Juna. But she would do as Guinevere wanted. Killing the
woman seemed like the better choice to the healer. She had
witnessed countless deaths, but had never killed anyone. She
knew she was probably the only person in the Woad community
over the age of seven who hadn’t. And she wouldn’t have been
able to kill this demented woman either. Someone else’s hand
would have to wield the knife. Juna believed in her mind that
it would be right to end the dying Woad’s agony. But when she
tried to envision standing by and watching as someone slit her
throat, the healer’s stomach lurched.

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


The Woad turned her body and started digging into the earth.
Juna pulled the burrowing madwoman over onto her back. “Help
hold her still,” she said to Guinevere. “What is her name?”
Then she spoke to the crazed female, though with little faith
in being comprehended. “I want you to be calm and quiet so I
can help you. Do you understand?” Juna took some concoctions
and dressings from her bag and did what she could to stem the
bleeding from the deepest wounds. She also tried forcing a
mildly calming potion down the woman’s throat. Anything to
stop the bizarre behavior.

Juna’s attention to the injured Woad was far from total. As
she worked on the wounds, she kept glancing back at the hut.
Seeing the Roman who had been on horseback follow the others
inside had her near panic. Merlin’s enemies now had him and
his second in command, Nolan, outnumbered, out armed, and out
of sight of the Woad warriors. What better way for the Romans
to end the Woad resistance than to eliminate the leaders?
Juna’s imagination was creating a deadly scenario, and right
now there was no evidence to prove her wrong. She finished
with the injured Woad and stood, looking nervously toward the
hut. She took a few steps toward it, then turned to look at
Guinevere. “I’m worried for your father,” she said anxiously.
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: lady ione
Date: Sun Jul 20, 2008 9:26 pm
Brendyn


The young soldier found the roster noting that he had been
placed on guard duty at the wall. Surely this was some mistake
as he had not fully finished his punishment, or perhaps it was
a reward for finding the gate where the woads had escaped. He
wondered if Quintus had filled Titrus in on what they had
found...what he had found. He moved to his quarters and over
to where he had placed his Spatha, and his spear. Placing the
sword in the scabbard at his side, he took the spear and
headed toward the chapel.

Perhaps it'd be a good time to pray before moving to guard the
wall on night duty. Finding the chapel, Brendyn stepped inside
closing the door behind him. Before approaching the alter, the
soldier removed his helmet, tucked it under his arm before
moving forward. Carefully and quietly, he sat the helmet and
spear down on the seat next to him, then stood back up as if
at attention. Brendyn took both sides of his red cloak, and
pulled them in front of his body, his eyes studying the cross
on the alter. Brendyn whispered into the dim light of the
chapel, his softly accented voice echoing in the quiet:

" Ro, a Dhew, dha Wyth,
Hag yn Gwyth, Nerth,
Hag yn Nerth, Skyans,
Hag yn Skyans, Gothvos,
Hag yn Gothvos, Gothvos an Ewn,
Hag yn Gothvos an Ewn, y Gara,
Hag a Gara, Cara pup Bewnans,
Hag yn pup Bewnans Cara Dew:
Dew ha pup-oll Dader." *

His friends came to his mind. The whole legion and
Antonius....lost. Brendyn missed them all. A prayer of thanks
the god for having found Arthur and the knights after the
battle. He did not waver from his thoughts and prayers as he
went to one knee and bowed his head. He prayed for his new
Commander, Arthur, and the new friends he had made in the
knights: Gawain, Galahad...Dagonet...

The silence enveloped him, and washed over ever inch of his
body. Brendyn prayed for wisdom do do his duty well...and for
safety...for Tatiana.




*=Grant, O God Your Protection,
And in Protection, Power,
And in Power, Wisdom,
And in Wisdom, Knowledge,
And Knowledge, Knowledge of what is Just,
And in Knowledge of what is Just, the Love of it,
And from Loving, to Love all Existence,
And in all Existence to Love God,
God and all Goodness. Amen
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: sabor ice
Date: Mon Jul 21, 2008 12:02 am
Nadeem


Catherine
 
"No.. but it sounds interesting. Four Kings? Surely
there can only be one King. Is it a game of risk or
strategy? With four kings at the start and they must
fight each other until only one is left? Hmmm...Speak
that word again..Chaturaji..."


For a whore, Catherine was willfully refined. She seemed to
take great care in moving with a certain element of dignity,
and speaking in a tone alluring, but also elegant. At first
glance, one might not even register what her trade was, as it
was obvious she was a woman who took care of herself. Not all
wenches or whores went out of their way to look beautiful for
prospective customers. Some were interested only in the
payment they'd receive for spreading their legs, but Catherine
was different. She reminded him of a courtesan, an appetizing
beauty of the highest class of prostitutes, the queen of all
mistresses and a man's greatest fantasy, should he be able to
afford her services, that was. Courtesans were lovers not for
the faint of heart, nor for those unwilling to pay a hefty
price for such exotic company. Nadeem was not a rich man, but
he was a generous lover.

He chuckled at her request, the purr from her inviting lips
perfectly exquisite. It had been weeks since the leader had
last shared a bed with a woman. And, the last woman certainly
had not been anywhere near as lovely as Catherine.

"Chaturaji is a game of chance. As you might've anticipated,
it requires four players to be official, but I do not much
care for this particular game. Luck is obsolete," Nadeem told
her.

One of the other men, Oded, rolled two dice just then, hooting
mockingly in his native tongue toward another as his piece
claimed its opponent's. Asi bantered something back, his face
screwed up in annoyance, but the others just laughed. Nadeem
slammed his emptied mug down onto the table, his features
uplifting as he offered Catherine a sardonic grin at his men's
tomfoolery. He slid a few coins onto the table as payment for
his meal, gesturing with his hand for the blonde whore to walk
with him as he joined her.

"Let us find peace elsewhere, hm?" Nadeem suggested, and led
her toward the exit.
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: lady ione
Date: Mon Jul 21, 2008 2:20 pm
Vanora and Bors


Shifting her weight to bear Bors a bit more comfortably,
Vanora helped the man to steady himself as they left the
infirmary. Thankfully, their home was not far off...just
across the courtyard, and a bit down from the tavern. They
talked as they slowly made their way across the muddy
courtyard. Bors groaned a bit, so Vanora stopped, and waited
for the man to nod for her to move on.

Vanora wryly felt that she might have to place Bors on a diet
as he was a tad on the hefty side. Making it to their small
home, Vanora opened the door with her free hand, and after
helping Bors inside, closed the door behind them. It was just
them. "Come one Bors, over here, love," She said as she moved
him to sit on the edge of the bed. Bors gratfully lie down on
the furs with a groan, then looked at her....He was lucky to
have her. Vanora lay a hand on his face then bent down to kiss
him.

"I love you, you big lummox..." In the dim light her eyes
showed a bit of mischief in them....
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: LadyCastus
Date: Mon Jul 21, 2008 5:15 pm
Mona


Mona was only mildly aware of Juna's attempts at tending to
her wounds. The woman was too concentrated on the colorful
butterflies flying around the healer's head.

"Purple, orange, blue, red..." she said as she smiled at the
imaginary creatures.

Mona's mind didn't allow the pain that wracked through her
body to distract her from her counting the butterflies as they
suddenly turned into....the wounded woman gasped as the
butterflies turned into something horrible. Their wings seemed
to spread, becoming weblike as tiny feet suddenly appeared
underneath their rodent-like bodies. They all turned an ashy
gray color as fangs sprout from their small mouths and their
ears became pointy. Mona imagined the bats to be everywhere.
As Juna stepped away from her, Mona became terrified and
grabbed Juna's ankle, swatting furiously with her free hand.

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

Mona turned and looked at Guinevere whose, in her deranged
mind, eyes were glowing and had fangs dripping with blood.

"You....you...," but the insane woman couldn't complete her
thought. Mona held onto the healer's ankle with all the
strength she had left.
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: Kayla
Date: Mon Jul 21, 2008 9:27 pm

Fiona


What Fiona was getting herself into, she was only beginning to
realize and think about. She was a generally helpful person,
always the one that would be willing to help with anything but
almost always ended up under the person's feet instead of
actually being able to contribute. Maybe it was her age or
that it had usually been around Guinevere or Brianna, who had
been older than her and generally didn't want a child messing
around in whatever they were getting into, although Bri had
been all-around more open to her sister. Or maybe it was just
the fact that the people she was willing to help didn't always
want what she offered. Almost like now, for instance, although
she had sort of pushed her way in anyway.

Mother Lavinia
 
“Come along then, whatever your name is. Now you and I
really need to have that talk later."


Fiona saw the woman look from the woad to Gawain and didn't
miss the grunt that she gave from her throat. She simply
nodded when Lavinia told her to come along, trying to imagine
what all the 'talk' that was being threatened would include.
It wasn't a very pretty image, considering she had just walked
in with a bunch of rowdy looking knights and the fact that she
had said that she was 'with' Gawain didn't seem to be much of
a help at all.

Lancelot
 
"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."


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


The knights were talking to each other as the woad and Lavinia
stepped closer to the cot that Galahad had been placed on and
she shot a look at Lancelot as he tried to work his charm on
the nun, who apparently didn't take too kindly to it.

Mother Lavinia
 
“Now, 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. I have to
get a couple of things I’ll need, and will be right
back.”


The woad's blue eyes met up with the nun's as she turned her
attention towards the girl, giving her directions on what she
could do to help. Fiona gave a quiet 'alright' and stepped in
the direction of the knight to help him with his tunic first,
with almost hesitant steps, as if she didn't know how he would
react - he hadn't seemed too thrilled when she had shown up.
She cleared her throat and raised her hands a bit, gesturing
to his tunic and her eyes lifted to his face, one of her
eyebrows quirked a bit. "If you don't mind," she said softly,
not wanting to start yanking his shirt off if he didn't want
her near him.
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: sabor ice
Date: Tue Jul 22, 2008 1:08 am
Milan


Mari
 
"I'm... I'm sorry…Look at me - look.. please, Milan look
at me. 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?"


He continued to fidget, not as violently as only moments ago,
but the awkward uncomfortable twitching remained apparent. He
was reluctant to allow her to take his hand away at first, as
if the appendage of mere skin and bone was the only thing
keeping him safe and hidden from the outside world. Her gentle
hold of his wrist coaxed him to eventually comply, but he
twisted his face from her pleading brown eyes. Vibrant blue
eyes, deep like the sea following rain, turned askew, and his
brow formed a hard line, dipping sadly in the middle.

She drowned him with her beseeching words, but he could not
find it in himself to face her. His misery lied not with the
fact that he trusted her, but that she trusted him. He thought
he had abandoned his mission, thwarted his dark past into the
light, but what he was doing now was exactly what he was meant
to be doing from the beginning. Getting close to someone.
Meriting their trust. Forging a relationship masked in
ultimate deception. Everything, to his horror, was going along
swimmingly to plan. Mari had involuntarily become involved in
his deadly dance, oblivious to his intentions, willingly
succumbing to his deceitful desire. Milan had to warn her, but
how? How could he and risk losing her? He was nothing without
her.

His tear-stricken face lifted, eyes staring blindly toward the
hole in the ceiling, his features an indescribable mix of pain
and sorrow. His body heaved in uncontrollable sobs, yet no
sound came out. His lips moved to form incomprehensible words
in his native tongue, the uncanny repetition of two syllables,
"Not her." The chanting was at first teary, but then was
filled with an undeniable firmness, as if he was now telling
instead of asking.

A few shaky breaths escaped his lips as he tried to console
himself back to reason. Finally, he seemed calmer. He dropped
his chin and met his gaze with Mari's. He couldn't read her
expression, but he reached out a hand to touch her cheek, and
then the other, sliding off the bed onto his knees before her
in one smooth movement, his face only inches from hers.

"I love you," Milan said simply.
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: Darya
Date: Wed Jul 23, 2008 10:03 am
Darya


When Arthur returned her kisses and even also seemed to ease a
little, Darya closed her eyes to savour this moment It felt
good…and the Roman’s gently supporting hand at her waist then
also added the much needed feeling of security. The woman
sighed quietly…but then re-opened her eyes when her lover
spoke…

Arthur
 
“I pray that you need me at least as much as I need you,
Angel,”


The Sarmatian tilted her head slightly as if to lean into
Arthur’s gentle touch as he brushed a strand of hair out of
her face. His words brought another faint smile to her lips.
“Now more than ever…”, the woman replied without actually
thinking about the words. It was an intuitive answer, implying
yet another hint for what was laying so heavily on her mind…
But then she carefully lay down next to Arthur and met the
Roman’s emerald gaze with her dark one. Not only was she
concerned about how the Commander might react to the news…but
also about his health. Darya had of course noticed that her
lover kept one hand pressed to his injury and resisted the
urge to call for Neeve to check on Arthur’s wound again. For
now. The healer just had to come by soon…otherwise the dark
Sarmatian knew she would find no sleep later. To real were
those nightmarish images before her mind’s eye that kept
haunting her: the wound getting infected and no one noticing
it… And Darya knew how that could end. To even imagine what it
would mean if Arthur died was scaring her to the bones
already… The dark-haired swallowed roughly in order to shove
those thoughts aside for now and then blinked slightly when
the man by her side let one finger carefully traced along the
line of her jaw…and then found her lips…

Arthur
 
“Tell me what troubles you….were you injured in the
attack? How did you fare?”


Darya parted her lips just a little to prolong the contact of
her lover’s index-finger with them and let a moment of silence
stretch between them… Her first hint had been too subtle it
seemed yet Arthur was on the right path by asking what was
troubling her. However, when he mentioned the attack, a corner
of the woman’s mouth twitched slightly. Yet it gave her the
chance to let the Commander know that Merlin had actually
dared to enter the Fortress. Briefly chewing the inside of her
cheeks, the dark-haired brought one hand up and took Arthur’s
again. She gently moved both their hands until they rested
just above her breasts.

“There were way more Woads inside the Fortress this time…”,
she finally said, never breaking eye-contact with Arthur,
“…Guinevere and Merlin were two of them… The old Woad told me
that the Gods have told him to break the truce when I stood
face to face with him…” Darya shook her head slightly, still
not sure if she should be amused or confused by Merlin’s words
back then. However, the Woad leader’s eyes had burnt
themselves into her memory…especially since she had never seen
the man himself before that attack. “He stopped Guinevere and
me from doing more than just arguing when I confronted her”,
she added with a wry grin, yet her hand flexed slightly about
Arthur’s as Darya spoke, “…however, I just have a small
scratch on my arm as direct reminder of the attack, no
worries…”

Then there was another moment of silence, which the female
Sarmatian used to gently urge their joined hands further down
until they were resting on her tummy. “But the attack is not
what is troubling me…not only…”, Darya continued, determined
to finally tell Arthur about the changes in her…in their
lives. “You remember that I was not so well lately, don’t
you?”, she asked and again, her small hand flexed slightly
about her lover’s, “…I spoke to Isolde about that…and…” Gods,
this was harder than she would have ever imagined. “And…she
came to the conclusion that…right now…there’s three
persons…souls…here in this bed…”, the woman ended, suddenly
feeling a strange shiver crawl down her spine as she could not
hold Arthur’s gaze any longer but glanced down at their joined
hands instead. Had she been direct enough for the Roman to get
the message? And if so, how would he react?
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: Pinkie
Date: Wed Jul 23, 2008 1:50 pm
Galahad


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 didn't react to Lancelot's threat. He tsked gently,
rolling his blue eyes upwards. What did it matter if Lancelot
stabbed him right now? It would mean he wasn't a burden on
Gawain, a hindrance to Alina's happiness or a pain in the arse
for Lavinia. All in all, wouldn't everyone be better off if he
were dead?

The young Sarmatian felt a maniac twist of laughter in his gut
at how pitiful he sounded to himself.. but he kept a lid on
it, his cheeks bulging a little as he continued looking at
nothing in particular.

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,
Fucker, 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. We need you well, You've got me, pup, as
much as you don't want me. Do what you need to, Gawain.
I'm not leaving."


Only four words actually bounded around the inside of
Galahad's head and it showed in his sad blue eyes when he
turned them towards Gawain.

Gawain
 
“I’ll just stick around until Lavinia’s taken care of
you, Then if you want to be alone, I’ll go.”


Your woman is gone.

Galahad looked like Alina was indeed gone, and gone for good.
And he didn't look much pleased with this news. He couldn't
tell Lancelot that. The bristly prick would crack some crude
joke or make a mockery of him not being able to keep even a
tame thing like Alina. And that is how Galahad looked at it
too. She had not been a demanding lover, she had not been
disrespectful or awkward at all - she had been beautifully
perfect and he had somehow managed to screw it all up! How?!

Mother Lavinia
 
“No one is going anywhere yet, Both of you need to be
checked out and worked on before you leave. So make
yourselves comfortable while your reluctant friend is
mended. Back to your duties, you dolts. Now, 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. I have to get a
couple of things I’ll need, and will be right back.”


The old nun babbled about beside him and ushered Fiona to the
fore in order to clean his wounds. Galahad sighed, shutting
his eyes and lay back down on the bed he had been placed on.
He shut tilted his head back, his Adam's apple bobbing beneath
the dark bristles on his neck as he held back the wealth of
tears that threatened to spill. And not for the physical pain.
It was more for the embarassment about everything. Everything.

Lancelot was right - Arthur didn't need this kind of thing
right now.

Gawain was right - he shouldn't have started a fight with
Kolya.

Lavinia was right - he needed mending. And in being such a
klutz about things he had also managed to get Lancelot and
Gawain 'caught' having to get their own hurts looked at when
they would have been more than happy to just look after them
themselves.

Better off dead... he thought again grimly, tilting his head
to look at the young face of Fiona as she came to stand near
to him. She looked hesitant. Did she think he was going to
lash out at her too? That he'd start a fight with her like he
had done with Kolya? That he'd end up elbowing her in the eye
the way he had with Lancelot?

Fiona
 
"If you don't mind,"


She gestured to his tunic.

Galahad sighed and shrugged. He brought himself into a sitting
position, shoulders slumped and reached back awkwardly to the
shoulders of his tunic. He then pulled it forward, upwards
over his head, mussing up his dark curls but it got stuck half
way, his injured stomach making it impossible for him to
complete the function without spewing a kidney onto the
mattress. And it hurt like a bitch too.

Galahad hissed in pain and his shoulders tensed. Despite being
the baby of the group he still had an impressive physique and
his sinewy body beneath the tunic tensed all over, muscles
rippling in a spasm of pain as his shoulders sagged, the tunic
half over his head and from within the wet wool there came a
muffled voice.

"Stuck."









Amadeus

Malcus
 
"I don't give two wenches' tits what you ordered. I'm
going to remind you 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, I will stand
my ground during these negotiations. now get the bloody
fuck on with it!"


That was entirely the wrong way to react.

Amadeus heard teh man's boots and wondered for a split second
why it had been that easy to dismiss him. But of course the
man had been raised by Castus' standards! The man knew nothing
of proper etiquette! In the Roman army on the continent he
would not have lasted two days let alone the years he had
lasted here in Britain. The Optio stiffened as the Captain
spoke close to his ear and with a seething fury burning in his
grey eyes he gave a distracted, embarrassed smile to Merlin
and turned to glare fiercely across at Barbattus.

He moved over towards the man and looked down his narrow nose
directly into his eyes.

"What?" he hissed, aware of the shuffling behind him as the
Woads observed this act of idiocy from Barbattus. It was as if
the man thought that he was exempt from his Commander's rule.
It was as if the man was fool enough to think that, despite
Arthur Castus himself ordering Amadeus Scipio as the leader of
this party, that he was somehow ... somehow not under the
umbrella of his orders. It was idiocy in all it's pitiful
splendour. Arthur had ordered Barbattus to accompany them? Of
course he had - but he had ordered, explicitly, that Amadeus
Scipio was in charge. Did Barbattus miss that?

Amadeus had every intention of ensuring this particular welp
would not see promotion, pay-packet or time off for the next
six-months for this outrage.

"Fool! All you do is cut the earth from beneath me and
ridicule me, me!, you, the Sarmatian and Lord Mordred with
this idiocy. Should things not go the way Arthur has deemed
they should then he will know precisely who undermined our
stand here, Captain.. Now stand down." Amadeus said under his
breath.









Saoirse

Saoirse knew it had been a bad idea not to get it tended to
immediately. But at that time she had been rather caught up in
Rafe's damn injury - the one on his thigh that had been
bleeding out much worse than her own was. Her own was a
scratch compared to what RAfe had suffered. And it was her
nature to dismiss her own hurts. She always had. Saoirse had
made it her habit to turn aside that which is good for her and
look for that which is bad. She always made the wrong
decisions. Which is why she found this love so hard to cope
with. It was so right for her, so comforting and so perfect -
so she bucked against it.

Dagonet
 
"Saoirse.... This is besides the point! Why the hell,
you left it like this?? You know how dangerous it is!
Any help here?"


The red head flinched, shifting her arse to the side with a
hiss of pain when Dagonet pressed the sheet against the steady
dribble of blood from her inflamed wound. She looked over at
his furious grey-green eyes and saw a calm come over him as he
got himself under control, his voice scolding her for her
foolishness and rightly so. Saoirse could do nothing but sit
there and take the rebuke with as much dignity as she could
muster. She bowed her head, looking at Dagonet's huge,
weathered hand against her milky pale leg and she sighed.

When he callled out for help it startled her and she shook her
head about to tell him not to be so hasty in assuming it
needed outside help when a passing nurse paused and glanced
towards them. Saoirse gave her a cuttign glance and the woman
raised an eyebrow.

"Wha'?" Saoirse snapped.

The nun got a chilly look about her eyes at the red-heads
snippy tone and turned to face them both, looking over
Saoirse's head at Dagonet then down at Saoirse's bloody leg.
The Irish woman scowled, shifting sideways and placing her
hand over the sheet that was weakly stemming the blood.
"That looks like it needs treating." the nun said.

Saoirse glowered and looked over at Dagonet, obviously
disgruntled about this turn of events.

"He needs feedin' more than I need bandagin'." she commented
coldly, throwing her legs over the side of the bed but when
she went to stand her wounded leg buckled weakly and she fell
backwards, barely catching herself onto the mattress once
more. Saoirse held her breath, holding herself still. She
could feel Dagonet's annoyance prickling behind her and
cleared her throat, self consciously tucking a strand of hair
behind her ear before turning to look at him sheepishly.

"Alrigh' - so maybe it could do wi' a poultice or
somethin'...." she conceded. The nun sniffed and came around
to prod at Saoirse's thigh. The red head was sitting on the
edge of the bed and leaned back with a defeated sigh, laying
her body against Dagonet's, her head against his head. She
tipped her head back and looked up at his eyes beyond the
bristle on his chin. "Sorry..." she whispered to him
sincerely, not wanting to be another thing for him to worry
about.









Kolya

Alina
 
"Then, why are you here? I think we've all had quite
enough for one day, don't you?"


Zapped of all life-force it was.

At least it was the closest of the two. There was something
glinting in her eyes that made the old Sarmatian think, that
engaged his brain. Something there was vivid and bright,
something lurked behind her eyes that was burning and he
didn't know what it was. He cuold be cocky and think it was a
longing for him but he knew that was silly. What woman in her
right mind, and Alina was in her right mind, would want a man
like him?

Old, battered, broken in more ways than one. He was a hazard
and he had just proven that outside the tavern.

And yet when she first spoke he knew exactly the answer to her
first question.

Why was he here? Why had he accidentally turned up in her life
and fucked it up only to find her at her weakest, saddest ebb
and offer her a surge of excitement? Granted it was the kind
of excitement a loyal woman could do without given that she
already had a lover but still. Life had surged in her. Life
had been tangible in the beat of her pulse when she had been
with him. Had he not given her what she had wanted?

Granted there was no chivalry in cuckolding another fellow
Sarmatian but Kolya could only regret that little fact and
nothing else.

When he peered sideways at Alina his blue eyes were narrowed.

"I don't know..." he replied to her second question and rose
up from the cold steps. He brushed the back of his trousers
lightly and walked over towards Alina with his head bowed. He
pursed his lips as he came to stand before her, his thumb
pressing into the side of his index finger as he looked into
her eyes and he then brushed his knuckle lightly over her
cheek. "Have you had enough of me for today?" he asked in a
quiet, husky tone of voice









Drake

Drake was patient. At least he was in most matters. He had had
his little tantrum in the room and now sat quietly on the bed
staring at nothing. He wasn't listening in deliberately but at
some point during the afternoon he had heard Linnette speaking
in hushed tones and she just happened to be doing so close to
the wall that adjoined his. The realisation that this was how
thin the walls were made Drake groan and he tipped his head
forward into his spread palms. He shook his head, mussing up
his short dark hair a little before throwing his head back and
looking straight at the ceiling with a cast of resignation
about his features.

"Fuck." he muttered under his breath and then he caught a hint
of what was being spoken of. A hand -- fingers, slamming, wall
... The Spaniard's ears almost pricked to attention and he
held his breath, waiting for the inevitable outrage when his
part was made known to Linnesse. But it never was - or at
least she did not react in rage. Drake could not hear every
word spoken but he had heard enough to know that either
Linnette had not mentioned him in that fiasco or Linnesse had
taken the news uncharateristically well.

The old soldier got up off the bed and went to the saddlebags
that he had flung unceremoniously on the ground earlier. He
gave them a kick, gently, and hunkered down, patiently,
quietly starting to remove items that he would need now that
he was not going to Jerusalem as planned.

It only took a short while and he got distracted as he came
upon a small book that he had brought with him from Spain
about one man's travels through the most easterly points of
the Roman Empire.
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: Lancelot
Date: Wed Jul 23, 2008 6:32 pm
Lancelot


Lancelot kept both eyes on the nun after he finished his
declaration - he wasn't leaving Galahad alone to be poked and
prodded by those in charge. Not without a fellow Sarmatian
hanging about to make sure things didn't turn - uglier.

Mother Lavinia
 
“No one is going anywhere yet, both of you need to be
checked out and worked on before you leave. So make
yourselves comfortable while your reluctant friend is
mended. Back to your duties, you dolts. Now,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. I have to get a couple of things
I’ll need, and will be right back.”


And she hustled away without so much as a by-your-leave, and
worst of all, without even a hint of a smile. Lancelot sighed
roughly, and turned back to face Galahad and the Woad girl who
had been ordered by the oh so tough nun - I'll get her to
crack...I will - to help. He cocked the eyebrow over his
uninjured eye as he looked at Gawain.

Gawain
 
“I’ll just stick around until Lavinia’s taken care of
you. Then if you want to be alone, I’ll go.”


"You don't want to stick around and watch me win the old ...
charming woman over?" he flashed his teeth, wincing again as
the wounds in his face pulled with the motion. "Don't fret, my
friend, she will crack. I will perservere."

Truth was, Lancelot was beginning to doubt his abilities. His
exhaustion and his wounds and his dark thoughts regarding a
specific Roman were dragging his normal charm down, and seeing
Galahad like this, obviously out of sorts and honestly ...
crushed, yes, that was the word, was making Lancelot either
want to growl and hit something else, or to just crawl into a
ball after drinking an entire bottle of wine and sleeping for
several weeks. He blew out a breath, and scrubbed a hand over
his hair, making the damp curls spring in strange whorls
around his head. He shifted, and his swords bit into his back,
fighting against his movements. That was odd - they were
almost as much a part of him as his own skin was. They only
complained when he was thinking too much or out of sorts.

Arthur Castus. We are not finished, you and I.

Lancelot bit the inside of his cheek until his eyes - both of
them - watered. He watched Galahad struggle with his tunic
after Fiona asked for permission to help him, and then sighed
again as the pup got snagged in his own clothing.

Galahad
 
"Stuck."


A small smile crossed Lancelot's dirty features, and he rose
creakily, leaning over Galahad, and took up the other man's
shirt in his hands, gently disengaging the knight from his
clothing. "You are hopeless, little brother," he said quietly,
and turned away, clothing in hand. He looked at the Woad girl
and pursed his lips, the flesh red and inviting and his face
conveying every bit of haughtiness he knew he possessed. He
also knew most women found it an attractive quality - his
inner bastard was apparently desirable. "Young miss, he's all
yours," he said, his tone only a tad mocking, and swept a
fancy bow. Instead of reseating himself, however, he
approached Gawain and stood next to the other man.

"Think we can figure out a way to sneak out of here before she
gets her fingers on us?" His leathers began to slide again,
and he used one hand to surreptitiously hitch them up. Gods
damn the asshole who'd stolen his "new" leathers to all the
fires of eternal torture! Now he'd have to spend some of his
slim amounts of money on clothing. Gods.

Maybe Arthur had an old pair about....
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: golden_trillium
Date: Wed Jul 23, 2008 7:33 pm
Merlin


Malcus
 
"I don't give two wenches' tits what you ordered. I'm
going to remind you, 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, I will
stand my ground during these negotiations. Now get the
bloody fuck on with it!"


Nolan
 
“They squabble like children. They cannot even negotiate
between themselves.”


"No." Merlin shook his head and muttered his agreement to
Nolan's words, his eyes on the two Romans, who were still
arguing, Scipio now snapping back a retort at his
not-so-subordinate subordinate. Ridiculous...the two of them
couldn't even decide between themselves who was to do the
talking. If they- who were Romans and therefore valued rank
and structure above all things- could not even decide that,
how could anything else they said be trusted. Merlin sneered
openly now in response to Scipio's embarrassed half-smile. He
was not going to simply tolerate this, then negotiate with
whoever came out the winner of this little dispute. Merlin was
done here. There was clearly nothing to be gained by talking
to so divided an enemy, and with the strife between them he
was confident that the four could be easily seen off of Woad
land.

His mind made up, Merlin beckoned with a small, imperious
gesture for Nolan to follow him, then stepped back out of the
hut, and disdainfully around Scipio, who was still trying to
impose his will on the other man.

Amadeus
 
"What? Fool! All you do is cut the earth from beneath me
and ridicule me, me!, you, the Sarmatian, and Lord
Mordred with this idiocy. Should things not go the way
Arthur has deemed they should then he will know
precisely who undermined our stand here, Captain...now
stand down."


“I think all of us may stand down, as it were,” Merlin broke
in smoothly, with mock pleasantness, and a shrug as though he
regretted what could not be helped- but also with steel under
his voice that brooked no argument. He was done with these two
ridiculous strutting popinjays, and their two silent accomplices, too.
There would be no negotiations today- only flight, or blood.

“There seems no need for us to talk until you decide who is
empowered to do so. And since that may take a while…” Merlin
favored the two Romans with an evil smirk, one that saw
through all their petty squabbling and right to their souls.
They were scum, and they weren’t even organized. Unusual of
Castus to send out two such idiots in his place- the fort
commander must be badly wounded indeed.

“…in the meantime, you will remove yourselves from our land.”
Another gesture, anticipated by the two score Woads who ringed
the clearing, and as one they reached for bows and arrows,
neither of which were far away, and brought them up with a
soft, ominous creak of wood, all pointing at one of the four
riders from the fort.
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: lady ione
Date: Wed Jul 23, 2008 8:26 pm
Adian


He watched her every movement: the way her cheek rested in the
palm of his calloused hand...the way her eyes closed. Adian
kind of guessed that this might be a new set of feelings for
the young woman, and he reminded himself to move slowly. To go
slowly and make sure they knew each other better before the
right time came. Late Spring/Early Summer he guessed would be
a right amount of time.

Still, thoughts of Thorn haunted his mind. Her voice, her
touch, the way she had moved under him on those nights when
they shared love...

In truth, he really knew little about the woman he had just
proposed to. How odd that this woman had shown up in his life
while he was still grieving over a woman who had shared his
life? Tatiana as nothing at all like Thorn, but there was
something about her that he couldn't place a finger on.
Loyalty? It had been the only fault Thorn had had, and
somehow, Adian kept thinking that he should have followed her
and the knight she was with. Who had the man been, and who
else had she slept with while professing her love to him
alone? Adian's dark gray eyes looked at the delicate creature
as she spoke...

Tatiana
 
"A wisewoman once told me that things happen for a
reason. However, as far as trying to describe me, Adian,
its not quite exactly that easy to do."


"A wise woman? She must have been wise indeed," Adian
whispered as he watched her eyes meet his plus the mischievous
grin that accompanied it. The feel of her hand moving from his
shoulder to the back of his neck made Adian shiver, her body
stretching to allow her to place a kiss on his lips. Both of
his hands went to her face, continuing the kiss she had
started. The young man moaned softly. Was Tatiana seducing
him? Was she even aware of what she was doing...what effect
she had on him? "Tatiana..." his hands went from her face and
moved to her neck, caressing the soft skin there. Despite his
grief which was still very new, Adian felt his body change at
Tatiana's closeness. He moved his head to kiss at her neck
where his hands ran over the flesh there...

But he would not go lower of further until she gave him
permission to do so. So many bad things happened when one
rushed a situation, and he was determined not to ruin this...
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: sabor ice
Date: Thu Jul 24, 2008 3:58 am
Alina


Kolya
 
"I don't know...Have you had enough of me for today?"


She watched as he rose from the steps, and intangible emotion
surged through her at the miserable sight of him coming toward
her. What it was, though, she couldn't say. Concern? Horror?
Anger? It could've been a many number of things, but every
fleeting possibility didn't seem suffice for describing how
she was feeling now. It was so internally damaging not knowing
what or how to feel. Nothing felt in the right. Kolya came to
stand before Alina, and troubled brown eyes lifted to meet
disarming blue ones. The stroke of his knuckles lightly
grazing her skin brought a momentary touch of warmth to her
pale cheek. Nothing substantial. Nothing permanent. Just a
touch. Just a touch, but she had felt it. The deep, dark
waters of her ancient heart had spared her that much.

She pulled her face away, faltering back a step and shaking
her head.

"Don't do that," she whispered, maneuvering around him then.

Her hands dropped to her thighs, grasping and manipulating the
material of her dress well above her ankles as she traipsed
down the stairs. Her movements were not rushed, but
borderlined precariousness. On the third to last step the
woman miscalculated the distance and slipped, tumbling
ungracefully forward onto the unforgiving cold ground below
with a groan. On one of her hands held an abrasion from where
it caught on the wall, the other was wrist deep in muck. Alina
groaned, this time in frustration over her clumsiness, using
her soiled hand and knees to push herself off the ground while
the other cradled at her chest. She got as far as propping
herself against the last step, then used her palms to hoist
herself up onto it. She hunkered forward and placed an
unsteady hand against her right ankle, hissing through her
teeth at the throbbing pain there. It was sprained.

"Damn it," she sighed, defeated.

Resting her chin against her shoulder, the healer stared down
at the mess she had made of herself. And, then something
inexplicable happened. She started laughing - it was not happy
sounding, more maniacal than anything - but laughter
nonetheless. Then, she quieted abruptly, remembering that
Kolya was still somewhere behind her. She raised her head but
didn't look back.

"Not a word," Alina said.
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