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| August 2008 | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Apr 12 2010, 09:09 PM (2,830 Views) | |
| golden_trillium | Apr 22 2010, 12:09 AM Post #196 |
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Author: Pinkie Date: Fri Aug 29, 2008 10:22 am Kolya Kolya didn't want to change. Kolya didn't even think there was any point in his even wanting to. He was far too old, far too stuck in his ways to start changing his habits now. And why would he? This Sarmatian had no intentions on becoming fast friends with any of the younger fellas here. He had no intention on returning to Sarmatia to mingle with the boys his age who had not been taken into Rome's service, to see how they had fared without the influence of the Empire... he had Mari but she was an irritating little gnat and would bounce back to him regardless of his attitude or not. She always had before.
Nope - that didn't sound good. The old Sarmatian smirked and stood up, backing away from Alina with raised eyebrows, watching in merry amusement as she got herself off the mucky ground. She was doing oh so well until she came towrds him and then promptly staggered again. There was something in the way she fell that made Kolya wonder… Her hands were cold against his warmer forearms. He glanced up at her with a half-smile of questionning on his face, about to ask her if she was 'falling for him' - ha ha - when her hand, slender but oh so stingingly, clattered across his cheek. The stun was enough to make him gasp and his hands lashed out automatically, disloding her grip and taking hold of her wrists himself, his mouth opened to rebuke her severely for the slap but two things stopped him - A flicker of movement behind them, Gawain. And the smug look on Alina's face.
Kolya cocked an eyebrow at her and glanced over her dark head towards Gawain again. He narrowed his eyes at the fair-haired knight and then looked down at Alina sternly. "More surprise than pain." he growled at her, his lip curling in mild distaste and false amusement at her question. He pulled her towards him quite suddenly, pinning her arms between their chests and resolutely slammed his hand against her backside, hauling her hips towards his as he nodded over her head towards Gawain - "Should we give our audience something worth reporting?" he asked sourly. |
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| golden_trillium | Apr 22 2010, 12:10 AM Post #197 |
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Author: lady ione Date: Fri Aug 29, 2008 11:04 am Ione Ione had never been pregnant, and had only heard other women talk of what they had gone through, and in her assessment, she was going through some of them. Neeve so far had just acknowledged what Ione was saying, and she was glad that the healer was willing to listen. The wench came back with a warm mug of tea, and Ione took it greatfuly, immediately bringing it to her lips, and taking a good sip of the brew. The weaver could not help but make a sad heavy sigh as she took another sip while taking in the looks of those around the table. Something the soldier had said to Tristan had upset him....Bors had not said much now and was attentive on his food...Jols had fallen quiet as well, and the boy had left. Ione waited then for Neeve's answer, but she did not have to wait long....
....Ione's dark brown eyes met Neeve's blue ones. Ione's voice shook a bit with a hint of a sob for the grief she was feeling was still very new. Looking down a bit at the table then at Neeve, she spoke low again so that once again only Neeve could hear, 'I-I...guess I don't think so... I am sure of it...I think it's....' Ione felt distressed and like everyone was staring at her suddenly. She just could not say Javier's name here, but instead looked down at the family crest ring on her finger: the promise that her love would be back. There was no doubt that the child she was carrying was Javier's. She recalled their first time sharing love shortly after she had been rescued from the rubble. He had declined her attempts to seduce him at first, but then later she gave herself to him. They had become lovers after that time, then recently at her homestead... 'Neeve, I need help...he won't...I mean I am not sure he'll be...' Ione took another sip of her tea, and looked down into her reflection there not wanting others to see her sadness...She could almost hear Neeve's "I told you so" reply. Ione supposed that she'd hear that from everyone as she was known for her crushes, but only she, herself, knew Javier's heart. Until she heard otherwise, Ione had no doubt that he'd be back. They' sworn love and loyalty to each other, and she held to that... 'I did not know...who else to...turn to...I am so scared...' And upset and stressed...so confused... |
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| golden_trillium | Apr 22 2010, 01:26 PM Post #198 |
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Author: Darya Date: Fri Aug 29, 2008 12:43 pm Neeve Tristan nodded 'yes' at her question…and when this particular knight admitted such a thing, then something was indeed not right. Neeve wrinkled her nose and glanced from the scout to the unknown soldier and back…
Her? Could that be the Woad woman that had been spoken about in Arthur’s room earlier in the day? Neeve felt the urge to mutter that a little pain might shut the forest creature up for a while…but resisted to actually do so. She was not exactly fond of the Woads despite being a native Briton herself. It had been a Woad attack that had destroyed her perfect little world way back then. It had been burning Woad arrows that had killed her parents and her siblings… The raven-haired woman cleared her throat slightly and leaned over to Tristan for a moment. She just hated to see him so helpless…even though that was a very rare thing anyway. “If you decide to go…I could accompany you if you like…for moral support…” With that, Neeve gave the Sarmatian a brief wry smile and then sat back again…giving another wry smile at the soldier, who had brought the 'bad news' to the scout. Of course the woman had no idea if she would be of any help at all…but it felt right to at least offer support to Tristan…especially since Bors had fallen all silent and seemed to focus on eating and maybe listening… But then Ione brought herself to Neeve’s attention again by answering the healer’s earlier question. Right…pregnancy…the topic of the day apparently… However, the Briton met Tristan’s gaze again for a moment to silently confirm her offer before looking at the weaver opposite her once more…
The healer raised both eyebrows and tried focus on the hesitantly spoken words that came from the other woman and to make sense out of them. She was acting so very different from Darya, who at least had appeared to be composed; rather hesitant, but calm. Though Neeve could not be sure if that was indeed the case for she was no mind-reader. Anyway, Ione admitted to be scared…well, and she looked the part for sure. Yet Neeve had just offered Tristan to help him if needed…and she could hardly be there for the scout and the weaver. Oh, how she hated predicaments. “Right…right…”, the Briton mused and sipped some more of her tea, not sure how to react. What did Ione expect from her? Neeve could patch up wounds and try to fight other physical illnesses…but she was not really good in being an empathic listener who speaks soothing words to make someone else feel better. She was no counselor of some sort, by the Gods. “Look…this is a natural thing…and you have no reason to be scared…”, the healer then explained quietly, “…you’ll go through some physical changes…some are not so bad…some can make you feel rather poorly. First of all I’d say you should find some sleep to calm down…and then find me in the infirmary tomorrow. I can show you some herbs and spices that can help dealing with the changes…okay?” Neeve furrowed her brow questioningly, not sure if Ione would be alright with her proposition. It was quite late and it had been a rather eventful day…and she had yet to deal with the personal task Arthur had assigned to her. Well, and then there was Tristan’s little Woad problem, which seemed to be the more urgent matter…something that should be taken care of now. Ione, on the other hand, would still be pregnant tomorrow…right? |
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| golden_trillium | Apr 22 2010, 01:28 PM Post #199 |
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Author: golden_trillium Date: Fri Aug 29, 2008 2:05 pm Tristan
Just tell her to shut up? Take her some fucking food? Like that was going to do any good! If they wanted her to shut up so badly, why the fuck didn't they just knock her on the head?? Since when had Romans been guilty of being too soft? Were the Woads not their enemies? Someone ought to show those old-womanish guards how to deal with prisoners! A wave of anger suddenly suffusing him, Tristan slapped both hands on the table and surged to his feet with an inarticulate growl, his eyes blazing. Behind him, the bench wobbled with the force of his rising, despite the considerable ballast of Bors holding it down at the other end. On the table, the hawk squeaked in alarm, and Tristan's manner softened just a fraction, long enough to scoop up the bird and place her on his shoulder again. Not that he could take her down in the dungeons...but he couldn't just leave her here, either. Oh, well, he'd cross that bridge a bit later. He glanced over at Neeve again, trying to catch her eye...but the healer was deep in conversation with Ione, and Tristan caught snatches of what she was saying, things like "natural thing" and "physical changes". Fucking women and their incomprehensible physical problems! "No food- I'm not a damn serving maid," the scout growled finally at the hapless soldier, as he stepped around him and strode towards the tavern doors, his long strides eating up the distance, the soles of his boots pounding out the rhythm of his anger on the floor. Men scooted uneasily out of his way as he passed, but he hardly saw them- he was thinking only of what he would do when he reached the dungeons. Beat Neeria's head in, probably. And if that guard wanted her to have food, he could bring it his damn self. |
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| golden_trillium | Apr 22 2010, 01:29 PM Post #200 |
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Author: Pinkie Date: Fri Aug 29, 2008 4:19 pm Drake and Galahad Drake wasn't insulted by Galahad - not in the least. He didn't much like the little twerp but he did have a vested interest in his well-being, simply because it would keep Alina happy. And that wasn't for reasons that most people would think either. He liked Alina. He liked that she wasn't like other women at the fortress. She had a bit of zest in her, she had a bite. Much like Linnette - except his reasons for noticing Linnette at first was the touch of her hand and nothing to do with her behaviour. Amused, Drake looked back at Linnette to see her stiffen in response. He was about to shake his head and lift his hand, discouraging her from responding but already he saw her lips forming the words. He glanced down at Galahad then, warning in his green eyes, warning the young knight not to say anything he might regret --
But of course Galahad didn't get the hint. He was surly. He was hurting both inside and out. Gawain had left because he had pretty much told him to, Alina had gone because ,.... because... well he didn't know why she had gone, and Fiona had gone too because he had told her to leave him the hell alone once he had gotten his side stitched. What the hell was Drake doing sticking his noble nose in? And Linnette! Linnette of all people! The young Sarmatian had to temper his reaction to Linnette's rising chastisement. He was well aware of how awkward he had been when she had been told about Gedeon, how no-one had known how to approach her, how easy it had been to turn away from her grief despite knowing it was the honourable thing to remain and talk her through it - but Galahad grieved for Gedeon too. And he was dealing with the break-down of, what he thought, was a very good relationship. He had been battered, physicaly and emotionally, and now Linnette was telling him he was rude ?! Snorting, the curly-haired knight glanced up at her and scoffed. "No that wasn't rude - but if you hang about long enough I'll bloody well show you rude." he snapped quietly. He could feel the prickle of threat and anger from Drake and gave him a dismissive wave of his hand, turning his head away to glower miserably at the wall. There was a very distinct tightening about his wrist however, and when he looked around he could see that Drake had his rather large and thick hand pressing down on his arm as he leaned forward, his head tilted so that the fiery pressure in his eyes was clearly visible to the younger man. "I am sure you didn't mean that, boy..." Drake said quietly, not putting enough pressure on his arm to hurt, but enough to allow Galahad to realise that he could hurt if he chose to. Confused blue eyes flickered from Drake's face close to him then back to Linnette's. He never really liked Linnette - he always found her kind of snooty, aloof... Roman. It grated on Galahad's frayed nerves to see a British woman acting so... so... so bloody Roman. And yet Drake was kind of right... he didn't really mean to upset Linnette, and he didn't want to be rude, but he would be rude if he had to be. Something about the way Drake leaned over him suggested it would be best to be rude to the man rather thn the woman.. and that was easy. Galahad had never liked the odd relationship he seemed to have with Alina. Like they were best buddies or something... it wasn't right. |
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| golden_trillium | Apr 22 2010, 01:30 PM Post #201 |
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Author: golden_trillium Date: Fri Aug 29, 2008 7:24 pm Linnette
"It's all right," seeing Drake grip Galahad's wrist threateningly, Linnette stepped hastily forward and laid a restraining hand on Drake's own wrist, just above where he was holding the young knight. Galahad might get on her nerves even at the best of times, but she could sense the potential for things between the two men to escalate- and she hadn't really meant to start a fight. In fact...that was very likely how Galahad had gotte hurt, as she suddenly remembered. There had been a brawl in the tavern that afternoon, and Galahad had been involved. Linnesse had told her about it- it had happened right before she and Derfel had come to help with the move. "Looks like Galahad's had enough problems for one day, anyway," she added, unable to keep a touch of sarcasm out of her voice. She didn't have much sympathy for men who got in bar fights- they were nothing but trouble, and Gedeon, for instance, never would have lowered himself to something like that, unless defending someone weaker was involved. And it was probably too much to hope for that Galahad's motives involved anything like that. |
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| golden_trillium | Apr 22 2010, 01:32 PM Post #202 |
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Author: lady ione Date: Fri Aug 29, 2008 8:49 pm Ione The woman shivered a bit, and looked to Neeve hopeful that the healer would have some answers. She looked over at Tristan who seemed to be holding back some sort of displeasure at what the soldier was saying. She knew from working in the tavern for a while, that Tristan liked to be left alone...unless there were times like this when he and Bors had been talking. At times, Ione did seem to notice that there was some sort of communication going on between the scout and Neeve. Something important that had to do with whatever the soldier was saying...something about a woad prisoner screaming? But why would she want to see a Sarmatian knight? Ione did not understand, but perhaps he wanted Neeve's help as well, and Ione was willing to wait. Neeve's voice brought her attention back to the other woman....
"Thank you, Neeve...I will come to the infirmary tomorrow then," Accolon and Gedeon are dead, and Javier is god knows where leaving me with a baby to raise by myself, and you want me to calm down and sleep...right... Ione took another sip of the still warm tea and drained the mug. She was feeling tired, and it had been a seemingly long day for her. She kept her hands around the warm mug though it was empty, and could not help noticing that perhaps there was something Tristan needed Neeve for as well as the knight kept catching her attention. Ione nodded slightly at the healer, then stood up from where she sat tossing three coins on the table in front of her empty bowl and mug. Casting a sad glance down at Neeve, then over to Tristan and Bors, then Jols. Without knowing it, just their company had been very welcomed...though it did not take away the grief and sadness Ione was still feeling. It was as though the world had grown dark and full of gloom...especially since she saw Javier's horse disappear over the moors. Ione had made the decision to come back to the fort, and wait for him there. Javier would not break his promise to her....would he? He had told her that he loved her with every breath he had. 'I suppose I should get back to the shop and get some sleep then,' Ione said softly. She felt exhausted from the heaviness on her heart and the other worries that seemed to heap themselves on her soul. She had just turned her back slightly to the table when the thunderous sound of Tristan hitting the table made her jump slightly. The knight was now standing up, growling under his breath. Ione froze as the hawk cried out in alarm, then watched Tristan pick up the injured bird placing it on his shoulder. Ione saw Tristan glance at Neeve again just as they had finished their conversation...
Ione stepped back a bit as Tristan left the tavern. For once she felt sorry for the guard who had come to report to the scout. Looking back at those left at the table, Ione nodded, "I should go...I'll see you tomorrow." She cast her glance once again at the man Neeve had identified as Titrus and gave him a smile and a nod, before getting ready to take her leave.she was so very tired that perhaps she'd sleep in tomorrow as she had not had a decent night's sleep in a long time... |
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| golden_trillium | Apr 22 2010, 01:33 PM Post #203 |
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Author: Darya Date: Sat Aug 30, 2008 1:31 am Neeve
The Briton opened her mouth to say something…but in that very moment, Tristan slammed his palms onto the table and stood. Neeve’s head whipped around and her blue eyes pierced the scout for a long moment. If he walked down to the dungeons in this mood, someone would get killed…no doubt. And when the Sarmatian met her gaze yet again, her decision was made. And while Tristan picked up his injured but very alarmed hawk, Neeve turned towards Ione again while emptying her mug of tea in one go. “Yes, yes…”, the healer replied, almost feeling a bit sorry to be so distracted by Tristan and therewith to not be able to give Ione the attention the other woman certainly deserved, “…keep yourself warm during the night…avoid sleeping in a draught or something. Any sickness of you affects the unborn as well… Always keep that in mind…” With that, the raven-haired woman gave Ione an as empathic smile as possible for her and then stood from the table…placing a few coins on it while her blue gaze shifted from Ione to Tristan and back…
Neeve pursed her lips and sighed quietly. “I’m sorry…but…”, she added into Ione’s direction and then gave Bors, Jols…and even Titrus and the other Roman fella a nod before hurrying after Tristan, who was half out of the tavern already. Boy, was he pissed! No one dared to stand in his way has he approached the doors. Neeve puffed out a breath and arched an eyebrow at the scout once she was by his side and adapted to his walking pace. She glanced back over her shoulder at the poor soldier who had managed to get the scout into this really bad mood and shot him a 'see what you have done?'-look before looking sideways at Tristan. “So what’s the deal with this prisoner?”, she asked and tilted her head slightly, expecting some more details from the man... |
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| golden_trillium | Apr 22 2010, 01:34 PM Post #204 |
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Author: sabor ice Date: Sat Aug 30, 2008 1:33 am Alina
Certainly Alina had crossed some line with that slap, but justifiably, Kolya had earned it. Her face fell and she set her jaw when he brusquely extricated her hold. His sudden vice-like grip on her wrists wasn't painful, but it was also not exceptionally comfortable either. Apparently he was allowed to be amused by her mishaps, but the moment the control point was on her and the tables were turned, he was no longer as jovial about it. She arched a brow as a dark look cast a shadow on his handsome face, internally steeling herself for some kind of rebuke. He had never raised a hand to her before, and there was no fear in her eyes that he would, just curiosity as to where this sudden burst of unsettledness was going. With Kolya there never seemed to be an identifiable pattern. He could be impulsive, unpredictable. She waited. She squeaked out a quiet gasp of surprise when the man hauled her body up against his, holding her against him in a mildly suggestive manner. It took a moment for the woman to form a coherent thought. Audience? The healer craned her neck to looked behind her, wide brown eyes immediately training on Gawain, who was looking rather stand-offish not far away. Instead of something more befitting like embarrassment or remorse flashing across Alina's face, it was chagrin that graced her features. "He wouldn't," Alina murmured under her breath, scoffing in disbelief. Had Galahad sent his friend to spy on her? Was this the kind of petty desperation he had been reduced to, sending Gawain to watch his lover for him? To make sure she was behaving herself and not fucking every two-legged being within the circumference of the fort? The thought was not only insulting, but also down-right degrading of her character. Was this what her lover thought her to be, some common whore? She huffed out a breath, face averted to hide the flush of red to her cheeks, as she turned back to Kolya. "Get me out of here," Alina pleaded quietly, her tone gritty. "Let him think what he wants." |
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| golden_trillium | Apr 22 2010, 01:35 PM Post #205 |
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Author: Unicorn Date: Sat Aug 30, 2008 7:22 am Dagonet When Dagonet finally oppened his eyes Saoirse was there with him, trying to gently clean his skin with wet cloth. Which was a surprising thing to see for the tall knight, as he was not feeling this while being asleep. He had to be so much tired that his mind just flew away. Nothing disturbed his sleep... he just woke up and looked with a frown and still not awake completely at the gentle little hands over his arm. He cleared his throat as he tried to wake up fully. After a deep yawn the big Sarmatian looked a little higher to catch the face of his lover. A light smile adorned his face for a second... leting her know that it was good to see her. But no words escaped him. Nothing came to his mind. He just watched Saoirse for a long moment. A familiar voice caught his atention. Galahad laying on the bed... Was he injured also? When? How? A frown appeared on Dagonet's face. But all of questions and doubts went away as he saw who was beside his fellow Sarmatian. Linnette... with Drake close by. Linnette... Dagonet's gaze dropped to the floor and uncertainty crept all over him. He still felt guilty over Gedeon's death. And still he saw Linnette's teary face. He still was angry over himself that he could not comfort her in the way he should done it. He was angry at himself that he had done nothing for her. He had not said the right words... |
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| golden_trillium | Apr 22 2010, 01:36 PM Post #206 |
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Author: lady ione Date: Sat Aug 30, 2008 9:53 am Ione Ione Kept her eyes on the door Tristan had just exited from, and then turned back to Neeve. She felt sorry for the healer as it seemed that she never got enough rest...and then to have her come and lay all of her problems on Neeve's shoulders. The weaver totally understood if Neeve needed to be somewhere else, and Tristan seemed in need of the healer's assisstance, so Ione left it at that. Perhaps it had to do with an ill prisoner or something. The healer had stood after finishing her tea, and had placed some coins on the table...
"I will Neeve, and thank you again...I am sorry I was not cheerier company..." Their eyes met briefly before Neeve hurried after the very upset scout. Ione did not think she had seen Tristan so angry, but then he probably had good reason to. With a heavy sigh, Ione glanced at Jols, the soldier and Bors, "Well Gentlemen, I should call it a night...ya heard what the healer said." She turned and left the table, passing by the table where Titrus and the other man (Quintus) were seated, and could not help but take in the memory of the gentle face of Titrus. She would save it for her dreams.... Quietly she left the tavern, pulling the hood over her head and her cloak tighter about her body, and headed toward her shop where she knew unfinished work lay waiting for her. Would Mirtha still be there and just as angry with her as he had been when she had left earlier? Somehow, he still scared her a bit with his drinking, but she had promised to help him. Perhaps Neeve would know of some herbs that would assisst her in this...something to lace his wine with. It was not long before she reached the shop, unlatched the door and stepped inside, closing and latching it behind her. Leaning her back against it, Ione left out a heavy sigh of sadness, stress and exhaustion. Moving away from the door, Ione took off her cloak, noting that she did not see Mirtha there, but then he could be in the small room...or getting drunk in the stables... Quietly she made it to the small room, opened the door, and began to get ready for bed. Her thoughts were with Javier at night, and as she crawled under the warm covers and closed her eyes, the handsome Southerner who owned her heart was there... |
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| golden_trillium | Apr 22 2010, 01:38 PM Post #207 |
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Author: Elessars Girl Date: Sat Aug 30, 2008 11:06 am Derfel In Derfel’s current state of inebriation, he still wasn’t observant enough to note the dress he’d plunked the basket of food on or why Linnesse seemed to be a bit annoyed at him for it. But no matter…better to be a little oblivious for a while instead of suffering in silent torment for the recent painful events in the young knight’s life. Ale was a good thing at times….Derfel would be sure to thank his new friend Lucius for giving the knight some reprieve from his troubles with that barrel of ale. Derfel made a nonsensical sound of contentment as Linnesse’s tiny hand slid ‘round his waist and she began to guide him towards their private room.
“Mhmmm…good,” Derfel acknowledged Linnesse’s explanation for why they were currently alone and then silently offered a small prayer for Dagonet’s recovery. Derfel had become quite close to the older knight in the past week and the gods willing; he’d have Dagonet as a good friend and mentor for years to come.
Derfel snorted a laugh and continued to walk with Linnesse towards their room; his hand around her slender waste tightening with each step. But when she dropped his other hand, Derfel glanced over to see Linnesse fumbling with the blanket that was wrapped around her body….
“Uh…remove this? Yes…” He teased, but before Derfel could truly be of any help to Linnesse the basket of food managed to slip from her grasp and drop to the floor at their feet. That was preceded by an exclamation from Linnesse which had Derfel completely puzzled. Surely the blanket slipping from her shoulder had not caused his lover discomfort….and in his less than observant condition; Derfel had to struggle not to chuckle out loud. He bit at his lip before saying a word. “What happened? You alright, luv?” Derfel finally managed while trying to keep his hold on Linnesse while bending down enough to reach the basket at her feet. He surely did not want their meal to be spoiled! |
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| golden_trillium | Apr 22 2010, 01:39 PM Post #208 |
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Author: Pinkie Date: Sat Aug 30, 2008 2:06 pm Amadeus Arthur turned away from him. Amadeus' shoulders sagged just a little and he looked down at his gloved palms, flexing his fingers inwards. He had no idea why Arthur had turned his back on him and he was feeling rather too tired to give too much of a damn too. He had been up all night with the woad attack and then he had had to ride out to Merlin and now here he stood in Arthur's quarters in pain and weary. Yet he would not rest, he could not rest - not when Rome had been so blatantly ridiculed by such a barbaric race!
Finally the Commander spoke. Amadeus looked up, his grey eyes squinted slightly as he focussed on what Arthur had said. For a moment he felt a pang of indignation for the half-accusation that he read into what Arthur said, or rather, implied. It was as if only Arthur Castus, the great Arthur bloody Castus, could treat with Merlin, only Arthur Castus could grovel well enough for the Woad leader to ensure compliance. Gritting his teeth to prevent himself from speaking, Amadeus tensed his jaw and looked down again.
His voice made Amadeus look up again. He nodded his head and refrained from giving any indication of gratitude beyond that inclination that Arthur was allowing him to sit. The Optio tried his hardest not to make it obvious that he was in some pain, but having been in such pain and then standing like he had, he now felt quite stiff and moving was jerkily done. He dropped onto the seat of the chair with a huff and shook his head as he removed his gloves. That Arthur was going to allow the Captain to explain himself should have annoyed Amadeus, but he found himself rather curious as to what the Captain might come up with by way of excuse for his rash actions and his rasher words. The Optio leaned forward to take the goblet of wine. He took a meagre sip and placed it back on the table - not feigning to be in need of anything though his thirst was making his throat ache and the hunger made his stomach tight. He leaned back in the chair, gloves draped over his firm thigh and waited patiently for the Captain to be summoned. |
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| golden_trillium | Apr 22 2010, 01:40 PM Post #209 |
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Author: golden_trillium Date: Sat Aug 30, 2008 2:38 pm Linnesse
"OW! I hit...my toe..." Linnesse grunted, hopping on one foot in pain, her face drawn into a grimace. She reached down to clutch at her hurting toes with one hand, turning on the spot uselessly as she tried to push the sudden pain away. Did anything hurt worse than a suddenly and unexpectedly stubbed toe? At the moment, Linnesse couldn't think of anything. She hopped once more, hissing between her teeth- and then suddenly Derfel, trying hang onto her and bend over for the dropped basket at the same time, tugged inconveniently on her waist, and she tipped over, barely hopping out of the way of the basket on her way down, and landed on her bottom just inside the doorway of their bedroom. "Ooof!" she exhaled sharply with the impact as she plopped onto the floor. |
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| golden_trillium | Apr 22 2010, 01:42 PM Post #210 |
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Author: Pinkie Date: Sat Aug 30, 2008 2:46 pm Catherine It was not something that Catherine did for the pleasure of men, but keeping herself compulsively clean seemed to have a wonderful effect on her appeal to men who were so used to the grime and muck of warrioring. When Lancelot leaned in, taking a sniff of her fresh, clean scent, Catherine tipped her head foward a fraction, almost as if she were granting him permission to breathe in her heady, floral scent. It quite surprised her, given what she knew of this knight in particular, when Lancelot didn't kiss her. Her eyebrows raised, her lips quirking in a smile when he took her hand, kissing the underside of it. It was a sweet gesture, one which earned him a twinkling smile...
Well that was a pleasing thought! Catherine was not averse to grubby men but she cuoldn't help but feel as if she were being treated well by Lancelot because he wanted to be clean before doing anything more than kissing her hand and breathing in her scent. The blonde blinked lazily, pursing her lips as he moved one step back. Her eyebrow cocked upwards when he started to unbuckle the leather bindings that held his swords. Ponderous green eyes followed the swords as they were deposited carefully over the back of a chair. Catherine wasn't used to weaponary - she never had to be in her choice of employment, but she couldn't help but look at the swords with an almost covetous eye. Not that she wanted them - but simply to know the story of them... why did he fight with two swords instead of one? Was it a habit of his tribe in Sarmatia? And if so, why? The insatiable thirst for knowledge was kept well within her grips however, as the blonde watched in unsurprised amusement as Lancelot removed his tunic. For a moment she barely noticed the bruises, smiling at the sinewy, strong and attractive body taht the knight had. When she did start noticing the discoloration, realising that most of the color on his body wasn't shadow but bruising, Catherine felt her smile falter a little. His breeches were next, he let them slide to the floor without any sign of modesty. Catherine was not brazen but she did take a look down the naked length of his body as he removed his boots, her green eyes becoming rather pinched about the edges, a surge of sympathy bubbling inside of her to see a human body so battered, so abused... And why?
Oh Catherine knew the story of the Sarmatians and why they were here, she kenw their servitude to Rome... but seeing the battered body of a man before her and hearing his tone when speaking of that great caues that had him so bloodily battered was unnerving. The blonde felt goosebumps rise up and down her body as she nodded, gesturing to the clothing that he had his eyes on, more than happy to donate Arland's clothing to this man. A man she was starting to see as more and more of an enigma.... she could barely comprehend that she had coupled with Tristan, another of these strange Sarmatian men, already. It didn't seem like they were real when a person was so close to them, so dizzy with their presence as she was becoming with Lancelot. Whilst he washed, Catherine focussed on the job at hand. Oh she had been with men after battles before, but never,actually, with a knight. And for some reason being with this slave to an ideal that he did not believe in, an ideal that Catherine knew but did not adhere to, was rather. .. upsetting. She took a deep breath and remained patiently waiting for LAncelot to complete his ablutions, unmoving beyond the movements of her eyes watching his actions. When completed the Knight covered himself in a towel and walked to the fire, where he then stood in an impressive, shimmering, bronze-like silhouette. Catherine turned to watch him walk and smiled, cocking her head to the side when he regarded her with such intensity.
Oh she bet he said that to all the women! But from a charmer like Lancelot, to be told that you are pretty was something of a balm to a woman. And to a woman who cared so much about her appearance and about how people perceievd her, to be so truthfully declared a pretty thing was pleasing. Catherine smiled and lifted her hand to twirl a strand of blonde hair about her finger as was her nature when uncertain of what to do. And she was uncertain... "Now - when you say here, do you mean Badon Hill? Or do you mean this room with you as companion?" Catherine asked in a silken tone of voice, swaying towards Lancelot, her green eyes drifting down to the dewy contours of his bare chest. She reached out her hand and touched just above where the bandage was on his arm, head tilted to one side. "To be honest I don't really know the answer to either question. Women don't really have much of a choice in being wherever it is that we are..." Catherine confided, her voice drifting into a whimsical whisper as she stood closer to his infinitely warm body, her fingertips tracing the ball of his shoulder. Her eyes met his and held them for a moment of stillness before she dipped her head, eyes still intent on his for as long as possible, and brushed her lips against his collarbone. "We are urged and ordered to be wherever we are by men. Sometimes they are good men, sometimes they're not so good. Which are you, Lancelot?" |
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