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| August 2008 | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Apr 12 2010, 09:09 PM (2,840 Views) | |
| golden_trillium | Apr 14 2010, 09:22 PM Post #46 |
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Author: Kayla Date: Thu Aug 07, 2008 6:46 pm Fiona Fiona wasn't like her fellow woads or even like most people in general. She'd been born with a good heart, a heart that only wanted to help people instead of killing them like she had been trained to do. She had been born soft, not a fighter like her people and not someone that liked war and the things it brought with it. She didn't like that this world already seemed so horrible and she was barely old enough to understand any part of the world that wasn't right in front of her. The woad was already capable of making her own decisions, though, the proof being that she was living in the fort now instead of with the woads still. Maybe it wouldn't have gone through without help from her father and him realizing that she had wanted a different kind of life but she had strived and acheived, right? Wasn't that at least something? As soft as the woad really was, it was easy to let people say things that she didn't like and let them get away with it. She still didn't understand why Galahad didn't know that she was simply here to help and if he did realize that but still didn't understand it, then she didn't know how to make it clear but really, she didn't even know why she was here. Maybe it was wanting to do something for someone, or maybe because it was Galahad that had been hurt and that had caught her eye outside and she had just wanted to make sure he was okay, despite the fact that he seemed to dislike her for some reason.
Fiona frowned at his tone and the tension she saw in his jaw, feeling him release her hand and pull his palm away from it. "I know that. I'm just letting you know that I don't, even though you probably want me to believe that it was nothing." She shrugged; it was obvious that there was something going on and while she wasn't going to push about it, she wasn't going to back down either and admit that she didn't think something had happened. Thinking of this made her lose focus for a moment and she realized that she had gotten too close with the cloth to his wound only after she heard his breath hitch and his voice raised as he spoke -
Resisting the urge to step back at his tone, Fiona glanced up quickly, her eyes locking in on his expression and her forehead marred with a sympathetic and apologetic frown. "Sorry, sorry!" She bit her lip, loosening the cloth from her fingers and moving it away from his wound, only to have it pulled out of her hand by the knight. She released a ragged breath, looking childish as she moved her wet hand to push away the hairs on her forehead, leaving traces of water from her hand on the skin of her face. A slight flush tinted her cheeks at the muttered words underneath his breath, her ears only catching a few of the words but it was enough to make her embarrassed. She would have taken the cloth away from him when he started dabbing at it himself, but Fiona really didn't know what would happen if she managed to hurt him again so she just stood there, feeling almost worthless for not being able to complete a simple task. It was like the times she had felt whenever she disappointed Merlin for one reason or another, whether it was because of her lack of enthusiasm about the wars and the fighting she would be doing or like the time she had snuck into a hut to see two of the prisoners that they had brought into the woad camp. She always managed to find herself in trouble or messing things up and apparently, this moment was no different.
Fiona followed his gaze to Lavinia, speaking with Gawain, Lancelot and the woman that the woad had noticed earlier. Her shoulders drooped slightly, the only sign now that she was almost feeling sorry for herself about hurting the knight in front of her, all the other physical signs now gone from her face, only residing in her posture. She didn't know what to do to help, especially when he leaned back with a groan, covering his eyes with his hands. "Has she always been grouchy?" The woad tilted her head to the side towards Lavinia, wanting to do anything but stand here in silence. |
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| golden_trillium | Apr 14 2010, 09:23 PM Post #47 |
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Author: Starbelle Date: Thu Aug 07, 2008 6:58 pm Jols Walking over to the riderless mounts belonging both to Scipio and Barbattus, Jols took the reins and followed leading the mounts into the stables behind him when Tristan, the quietest one of all of the Sarmatians, leading Tirgatao into the stables, past the Squire let a small phrase escape his usual quietness.
If Jols was surprised at hearing the Scout speak, he didn't let on, just acted as if he hadn't heard anything out of the ordinary. "Figures that would happen, these people, they don't know how to do it right, if at all. We wouldn't do it in that way." The Squire replied to him in the same low tone once he was within Tristan's earshot, the other two mounts following in a relaxed gait behind him. Looking over his shoulder at the remaining knight, Jols called out to him in a normal tone of voice. "I'll be back for your horse, Mordred, once I get these mounts seen to." He said indicating both Scipio and Barbattus' mounts to let him know that his horse wouldn't be left out in the courtyard for too long on its own. |
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| golden_trillium | Apr 14 2010, 09:25 PM Post #48 |
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Author: golden_trillium Date: Thu Aug 07, 2008 7:50 pm Merlin
So now Connell was missing, too? The news, a mix between disappointing and difficult to understand, flew at Merlin thick and fast as his daughter spoke, pressing down his spirit, making it difficult to think. His shoulders sagged, and he let out a breath and shook his head as he abruptly dropped to one knee. Before him, the injured Mona rolled over painfully and reached out for him, her smile on seeing him not quite real, slightly unhinged-looking even in the dim light.
“Yes.” Merlin answered reassuringly, reaching out to clasp her hand in return, giving it a firm squeeze. His natural instinct to reassure and be a source of strength to his people had taken over, but he did not truly feel it in his heart at all. Wait for her? That made very little sense, and as Guinevere had said, Mona did not look in her right mind at all. What had happened to her? First Neeria, now Mona…were all of his warriors losing their minds? Had they angered the Gods as much as this? “Mona…who were you sent into the fort to rescue?” he asked experimentally, tipping his head slightly to one side as he regarded the wounded woman and waited for her to answer. Would she remember that? Exactly how far out of her mind was she, really? Or was this all a result of her physical wounds? Merlin cast a quick glance back at Guinevere. “How was she injured? Is this all from when she attacked you?” Or had there been something else? And why did Guinevere seem to be at the center of all this? Was there, Gods forbid, something wrong with his daughter, too? Merlin had the feeling he would be asking a lot of questions before he truly understood all this. |
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| golden_trillium | Apr 14 2010, 09:25 PM Post #49 |
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Author: lady ione Date: Thu Aug 07, 2008 9:05 pm Brendyn Nodding to the wench once again, Brendyn grabbed his helmet and spear, and left the tavern after leaving three coins on the table to pay for the food. The night air was cold and damp as he walked out of the establishment, and he pulled his cape closer around his lean athletic form. The still bandaged wound under his arm ached a bit from the cold, but he figured it'd keep him awake. Twilight was his favorite part of the day no matter what the weather. As a boy, he loved to sit on a small hill and watch the deep purples and reds mingle with the golds and whites and grays. It always left him filled with awe that such beauty could exist in a war torn world. Up ahead, he found the officer in charge surrounded by the relief soldiers who were to guard the wall as well, and saluted. The officer saluted back, then told Brendyn and the relief soldiers where on the wall they'd be positioned: Brendyn was to be over one of the gates. As the officer dismissed the men, Brendyn followed them up to the top of the wall, and he took his position. He nodded to the man on either side of him, and then turned his alert gaze out toward the distant hills and forests. Brendyn muttered a prayer of safety for the night watch. |
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| golden_trillium | Apr 14 2010, 09:27 PM Post #50 |
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Author: LadyCastus Date: Fri Aug 08, 2008 6:00 am Mona Mona's smile broadened as Merlin came closer to her. Her skin became electrified as the leader knelt down and grasped her hand. Her eyes rolled to the top of her head in ecstasy. His soothing voice calmed her raging spirit as he spoke to her directly. She opened her eyes again as Merlin said her name.
The smile faded. Neeria. Is that all he wanted to know? Fucking Neeria? That bitch! After all Mona had done, after she lay here DYING, the first thing he thinks about is NEERIA???? The anger flashed in Mona's eyes again. After all of her careful planning, her plotting to get rid of those two - and all for Merlin - he still failed to notice her. The crazed woman bit her bottom lip before she spoke, her voice cracking. "We went to rescue Neeria! Your favorite!" she spat viciously. "Why?" she screamed. "Why have I never been good enough for you? I am better than she yet you still favor her! Even after she failed to kill Arthur...she failed! I told you she offered you to Castus but she only did so that we could retreat! It was finally my turn to be your favorite and yet you still ignore me!" The woman burst into a coughing fit. In her insane ranting, Mona didn't realize her confession. |
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| golden_trillium | Apr 14 2010, 09:28 PM Post #51 |
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Author: golden_trillium Date: Fri Aug 08, 2008 7:54 am Tristan
“We? Sarmatians? We’d kill em and be done with it,” Tristan replied sourly as he continued down the stable aisle with Tirgatao beside him. They were brave words, but inwardly, Tristan wasn’t so sure of them as he sounded. He hated the spidery devils as much as anybody, maybe more- considering Percival’s fate- but Tristan wasn’t so blind that he didn’t realize that the Woads were a people fighting for their freedom. Sarmatians had fought that same fight, generations ago, and lost it to the invincible Roman legions, just as the Woads were now doing. In a way, it was like watching a replay of the death of his own people, and participating in it with a blind hatred that he could not deny. It was a bitter thing. Servitude was a bitter thing. But brave words- that was the only kind Tristan would utter. Ducking his head a bit, he continued along the stable aisle until he reached Tirgatao’s stall, as Jols called back behind them to Mordred. |
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| golden_trillium | Apr 14 2010, 09:29 PM Post #52 |
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Author: LadyCastus Date: Fri Aug 08, 2008 9:57 am Titrus
Titrus sharply nodded his head at Arthur. The sting in Arthur’s voice didn’t get past the lieutenant either. Arthur, in so many words, was saying “don’t fuck up again.” Titrus and Quintus had had men check and double check all of the gates and the lieutenant felt confident that there was no longer a weak spot or threat at either gate. Titrus would adhere to Arthur’s orders of doubling patrols along the wall and adding more men on the ramparts. When Titrus mentioned the women’s clothes, the commander responded without reaction.
Titrus uprighted himself and struck his breastplate again and took a step back from Arthur. “Oy, commander. I will, sir…and thank you,” With a curt nod of his head, Titrus spun on his heel and headed toward the door, nodding at the healer as he passed her. Titrus pulled the massive door closed behind him. The meeting with Commander Castus had gone well. Once outside, Titrus decided to find Quintus and let the centurion know that Arthur had been informed of the escape. As he passed the barracks guards, one of them stopped the lieutenant. “Titrus! C'mere,” the guard said. Titrus stopped and walked over to the man. “Captain Barbattus is back from the mission and he’s madder than a demon!” the man said, wide-eyed and animated, “he’s in his quarters and says he doesn’t want to be disturbed...not even by you!” Titrus raised his eyebrows. What the heck was going on? Was Malcus okay? Had the meeting with Merlin not gone well? The lieutenant turned and looked back at the barracks entrance. He wanted to go see Malcus but he also knew the captain’s fury. Better to leave him be for the time being. “Thanks for the warning,” he said to the guard, pulling his cloak around him tighter and setting out to find Quintus. |
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| golden_trillium | Apr 14 2010, 09:30 PM Post #53 |
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Author: golden_trillium Date: Fri Aug 08, 2008 11:55 am Quintus The Centurion stood with his arms crossed to one side of the little side gate- which, thank God, was hardly recognizable as a gate any more. The soldiers, working under his supervision, had barred across the broken gap with numerous pieces of wood, head-high to a tall man, and were now working by torchlight on mortaring a wall of stones across it, too. It was a bit slapped together, not quite as neat as the rest of the wall, and the cement wouldn't be completely dry for a couple of days, but if the Woads managed to break down the sad wooden gate again, they would find themselves facing a blank stone wall. And he'd like to see them try to get through that! The guard on the wall had been increased, too- especially above the area of the little formerly-gate. They had been fooled not once but twice by the forest demons, but there would not be a third time. This was it- the attacks stopped here, no matter what the result of the negotiations turned out to be. This shamefully vulnerable gate was no more. |
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| golden_trillium | Apr 14 2010, 09:32 PM Post #54 |
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Author: Darya Date: Fri Aug 08, 2008 12:45 pm Neeve and Darya
Darya tilted her head a little when Titrus addressed her and she gave the soldier a small smile once he had replied to her question. A silent nod expressed her gratitude for having received an answer. Then she put her now empty mug back onto the table while waiting for the men to finish their conversation…also watching Neeve from the corner of her eyes as she did so…
A corner of the healer’s mouth twitched slightly but she did not answer the Commander’s question as he and the other Roman had yet to finish their conversation. She could of course tell Arthur that a bunch of Sarmatians acting like little boys had kept her…but it was not her task to do so. If anyone should tell Arthur than it was Lancelot. He was the non-Roman leader of the knights…in a certain way, they were his responsibility. Thus Neeve just pursed her lips slightly and waited for Arthur to dismiss the other soldier… Once they were alone and Arthur moved over to the table, Neeve could not help but finally meet the dark gaze of the Commander’s woman…and she gave the other woman a look that asked why on earth she had not made sure that her lover would stay in bed, where he belonged with that injury of his. Darya, however, frowned at the healer’s icy stare…even though she understood what the other woman was telling her without words. But what could she have possibly done? She could not order Arthur to rest. And she could hardly tell his officers to stay away either, could she? Lifting her chin almost defiantly, the Sarmatian moved to join Arthur at the bigger table which he was approaching…
Neeve knew that the other woman had understood…but before she could actually say something, the Commander spoke and the healers blue eyes shifted to the Roman. She joined him by the table and began to unpack the basket… The Briton placed the thankfully still warm stew, the bread and the cheese as well as a new pitcher with water onto the table but was mainly focused on Arthur. “Really now?”, she replied in a rather sarcastic tone, not at all falling for Arthur's poor attempt to give her a somewhat convincing smile, and once more met the man’s gaze, “…then I am afraid you and I have very different definitions of 'enough'…” With that, the raven-haired woman took the spare bandages out of the basket as well. “Eat, Commander…and then let me see how badly you have ruined my work already…”, Neeve added and gave the Roman an almost challenging look…a look that told him that she just knew the injury was certainly not in the condition she would like to see it. When it came to injuries and getting proper rest, Arthur was just as bad as most of his knights. With the exception of Dagonet – and Percival…way back then – they all were such bad patients when it came to obey a healer’s orders. Then Neeve’s attention was on Darya once more. “Would you mind brewing a tea out of these herbs?”, she asked the Sarmatian and handed her a small bowl with a few dried leaves, “…make enough for two. You look as if you could need some as well…” The healer then gave the other woman a half-smile even though she still sort of blamed her for the Commander not having rested properly. However, it was only her eyes that gave this away. “Sure…”, Darya said and took the bowl as well as the pitcher with water and gave Arthur a worried look before she walked over to the hearth to prepare the tea. She had no doubt that the healer was right with her words about the injury probably being not any better at all…and she knew her lover well enough to know that he would never admit that so easily. But even he could not hide and ignore the pain forever. The dark Sarmatian silently prayed that Neeve would be able to help again…and to make sure that Arthur would be alright again soon… |
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| golden_trillium | Apr 14 2010, 09:33 PM Post #55 |
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Author: Starbelle Date: Fri Aug 08, 2008 2:09 pm Tatiana Watching as Adian stared out the window, she felt like he was a millon miles away from her at that moment. Not wanting to either disturb or interrupt him, Tatiana stood quietly until he came back to himself on his own. After telling him that it was ok for him to what he needed to, Adian turned around and met her eyes with his own, the heather gray speaking for him. Walking over to her, he kissed her passionatly which she returned with the same amount of passion.
"You're very welcome, Adian. Are you cold?" She asked solicitously as she'd seen him rub his arms and wondered if he was ok. Feeling him position her for a slow dance and hearing him softly sing a ballad for the music, Tatiana listened to his beautiful voice and let their dance unfold on its own.
"Yes. That they are, indeed. You'll always have those as noone can take them away from you." Tatiana agreed with him. "That sounds like a lovely idea, Adian. Either oak or cherry would be a good type of wood to use as it lasts quite a long time, longer if a varnish or shellac type of sealant is used on it." |
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| golden_trillium | Apr 14 2010, 09:35 PM Post #56 |
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Author: SarmatianKnight Date: Fri Aug 08, 2008 2:34 pm Lucius
Lucius took the answer for what it was: a confirmation to his statement but he knew that the legends did not always reflect the truth. He had met women who had been able to drink a full-grown man beneath the table. Something he would never ever understand. He never made the mistake to underestimante people and no doubt Lucius had his own moments of drinking adventures but still, how could anyone find it fun to drink someone else under the table? But then he saw the brief shadow of darkness on Derfel's expression again which was replaced by curiosity. Lucius raised an eyebrow. What?
The Roman knew that Derfel had been out there with Arthur and the knights. Maybe he knew even more than Lucius could put together piece by piece because he just able to use his brain and think properly. He looked at the other men in the tavern again before he rested his chin in the palm of his hand, looking back at Derfel. "Maybe they have a good reason we do not know." It was just a thought, a suggestion, but he wondered if anyone of the superior officers at the fort had pondered that idea. A smile and a shrug acompanied his words. When Derfel allowed him to ask a question Lucius opened his mouth already to ask him straight forward - "I wonder..." - but then he watched the other man filling his mug again and he remembered the darkness he had seen before. At least the Roman knew what he wanted others to do when he felt exactly the same darkness in his own expression. He wanted to be left alone. The last thing he needed were curious questions and endless talks about families and llife. So he decided to go into a completely other direction with his question than he had planned to or wanted to go. Chicken, a nasty voice in his head told him. "... why you do not just sit into that barrell. Would be much easier than filling that mug again and again." Avoidance - and even in Lucius' ears it sounded like a lame excuse. How pathetic. Surely Derfel would recognise it because the Saxon was no fool and it was obvious that the Roman was a bad liar. Truth stuck to him. Literally. Lucius grimaced and offered Derfel an apologising look before he decided that it was better to ask the real question with a sigh. He liked the man and thought that he did not deserve any lie at all. "Why does a Saxon fight for a Roman Commander?" He was convinced that a man could (should) fight for the things which were important for him, not for the country, the language he was speaking, the expectations he had to fulfill. But it was a rare thing that others saw it the same way so he wondered what Derfel's reason were to be here at a Roman fort. |
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| golden_trillium | Apr 14 2010, 09:37 PM Post #57 |
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Author: Elessars Girl Date: Sat Aug 09, 2008 9:32 am Arthur Titrus had wisely followed orders and excused himself from Arthur’s quarters without further hesitation, not that the Commander would have refused to listen to anything else the soldier might have had to report. But Arthur was not recovered from his injury and did require further rest…and he had no doubt that Neeve was about to make sure of it. Not something the Commander wished one of his subordinates to witness. Although, the report of a breach had troubled Arthur the soldier seemed confident that everything was now back under control. And the Commander had no choice but to trust in his men right now. And thus the Commander’s focus shifted back to the two women in his quarters; his pregnant lover and a longtime friend. A small wry grin threatened at Arthur’s lips as Neeve began her predictable ‘assault’ while unpacking her basket. She knew the Commander well….still.
“Your fine stitchery has held up to the days’ activities,” Arthur answered with a hint of mirth in his voice and added a wink at the Briton while taking his seat at the table. He accepted the warm bowl of stew and immediately took a bite of cheese. Of course he only attempted humor with Neeve to mask his discomfort…for as long as he thought he could hide it from both women in the room. But the recollection of how Arthur had been forced to practically manhandle Lancelot to stop the knight from attacking Scipio this morning…most likely a stitch or two had been broken in the shuffle….he knew Neeve would indeed have a little repair work to do. As Arthur remembered how he’d felt some residual dampness on his bandages later when he was alone enough to check his dressings. What shall I do about him? What punishment shall fit the crime? Arthur inwardly groaned while beginning to eat the stew Neeve had brought.
….for two. Was it that obvious already to Neeve? No, wait…the healer meant ‘Arthur and Darya’, not Darya and the child she now carried in her womb. God help me. Arthur still did not know how to process it nor what to say. He should be overjoyed at becoming a father…but something kept the Roman from feeling the way he should. Perhaps it was his own fate, his own destiny weighing heavy on his conscience. Arthur did not know the events that would forever seal his place in the history of Britain, he did not know when or exactly how he would die…but Arthur was certain that he would give his life in the name of God and in a valiant act to protect those that needed his strength. Simple enough….until Darya’s news had tilted Arthur’s world on its side tonight. He instinctively looked up to Darya as she accepted the bowl and pitcher from Neeve….and offered a small smile of encouragement. He had every intention of having Darya share this meal and the Sarmatian could certainly benefit from Neeve’s tea. “Dagonet was severely wounded….and should still be in the infirmary…have you seen him, Neeve?” Arthur inquired about his knight in between spoonfuls of stew. Lancelot was to report on the condition of all the men sometime this evening, but surely Neeve had news. Lancelot. The First Knight had given his word to Arthur that he would rest as well. But the Roman knew better….and prayed that his lieutenant had at least found the time to wash up and eat a good meal himself. And then Arthur’s thoughts returned to Darya and their ‘child’. She would need to be carefully looked after and certainly Arthur would no longer allow his lover to go on living in a room by herself in the knight’s quarters. And what in God’s name was keeping Scipio? Merlin was a man of few words…the peace negotiations should have been completed by now. Derfel Derfel had only nodded in agreement at Lucius’ further comment on the Woads. Perhaps the Roman had had some dealings with the native Britons himself. After all, Derfel truly knew almost nothing about the soldier sitting across from him now. No matter…the ale tasted wonderful and the other man’s company was quite pleasant.
Derfel had just downed another full mug of ale when Lucius spoke again…albeit hesitantly. Curious blue eyes met brown and in the brief silence before Lucius continued, Derfel released a good burp and rubbed a hand over his chest and belly in contentment. His head was beginning to buzz from the ale he’d consumed on an empty stomach…perhaps he should order something to eat and certainly the meal he’d promised Linnesse and Linnette. With luck, both women were comfortably sleeping and not aware of the time he was taking to return with said promised meal.
“Good suggestion,” Derfel snorted a laugh and gave the barrel a friendly pat on its top in appreciation of its contents. But something seemed a bit off in Lucius’ expression, as if the Roman had wanted to say something completely different – more serious perhaps - than the joke about the barrel of ale. Derfel’s instincts seemed to be confirmed as he noted Lucius’ rather repentant grin.
So Lucius was curious, as nearly everyone else that Derfel met, about his allegiance to Rome. Derfel blew out a breath as his eyebrows rose up a bit and he attempted a reassuring smile before actually answering the question. He leaned back a bit and wrapped both hands around the mug he’d been draining rather quickly. “Well, I reckon the short answer is that I was raised here and well…Arthur being ‘Arthur’…I’m proud to serve under such a noble and honorable man, Roman or not,” Derfel stated plainly and with a nod to Lucius. He then took another good drink of ale and licked at his lips before saying anything further. The knight could see what he thought was curiosity in Lucius’ dark eyes…and perhaps a bit of surprise that yes indeed a ‘Saxon’ could and did swear his loyalties to a Roman. But that Roman Commander was Artorius Castus…surely Lucius was aware of whom he now served as well here at Badon Hill. But the question Lucius had asked also brought back all of the turmoil within Derfel….that moment on the battlefield when father had recognized son and the son was on the side of the enemy and not able to save his father….Derfel had saved Arthur instead and would forever carry that particular guilty burden deep within his soul. And so once again darkness began to fill in the lines of Derfel’s gentle expression as he looked over at his new friend. He breathed out through his nose and briefly glanced down at his hands….the ring on his left hand was Saxon….and suddenly seemed to burn into his flesh. “There’s none better than Arthur….the gods truly bless the man on a battlefield,” Derfel added with a hint of remorse in his voice. And once again his thoughts travelled back to that night. |
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| golden_trillium | Apr 14 2010, 09:39 PM Post #58 |
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Author: Darya Date: Sat Aug 09, 2008 2:42 pm Neeve and Darya
Neeve watched with a certain satisfaction that Arthur immediately started to eat some of the cheese and the stew. Good. Very good actually. The Roman needed the food to regain his strength. However, when the Commander spoke, the healer furrowed her brow in doubt. “Let me be the judge of that, Arthur…”, the healer said and smirked slightly, “…I probably don’t even want to know what you have done to my work in the last hours… As different as you soldiers and knights of Badon Hill are from one another…you all have one thing in common: you never listen. Especially not when it comes to health issues…” With that, the raven-haired woman pursed her lips slightly for experience had taught her that she was right…no matter whether or not the Commander would argue about the topic now… Then her crystal-blue eyes shifted towards the hearth where the man’s lover was preparing the tea… Darya heard Arthur and the healer talk, but she focused on her task at hand and therewith didn’t really listen to their exchange. When the scent of the herbs in the hot water hit her nostrils for the first time, the Sarmatian closed her eyes and took a deep breath. The herbal aroma had a soothing effect on her and she allowed herself to savour the moment. She should probably get used to herbal stuff…for she assumed that teas, salves and oils might become regular companions for her in the near future…considering the changes ahead…physical changes mainly. Re-opening her dark eyes, the Sarmatian then briefly glanced over her shoulder to look at Arthur. To see him eat made her smile faintly…yet Darya still secretly wondered if it had been the right decision to tell the Roman about the child. To tell him now. He looked more troubled than before…and that was certainly not only because of Titrus' report about the security breach. The dark-haired sighed quietly and looked at the small pot over the flames…stirring the fluid it in it to see if the tea was ready…
With that, the Briton met Arthur’s gaze again and nodded slightly. “Yes, I have seen him. I tended to him before the messenger boy that you had sent arrived…”, Neeve explained and absentmindedly granted herself a small piece of cheese, too, “…he is in good hands…and will be alright again…physically. For all else, he will need his moody red-haired woman and his friends more than ever…” The healer deliberately avoided mentioning Gedeon’s death. She hated talking about fallen knights… It would only remind her of Percival…and Markaad and she had no time for sentimentalities right now. Then Darya returned to the table with a pot of fresh hot tea. She carefully poured the hot liquid into two mugs before putting the pot aside and then handed one mug to Arthur. “Here you go…”, the dark-haired said and met her lover’s gaze, trying to find the answer to her sorrows in his green eyes… “So do you…”, Neeve then stated as she placed the other mug in front of the Sarmatian and therewith brought the other woman back to the here and now, “…drink. You look as though you need it just as much as he does. Has either of you really rested properly in the last hours?” Blue eyes shifted from the Sarmatian to the Roman and back…yet Neeve did not really expect an answer. Well, and she actually had an idea of what that answer might be already anyway. “Well then, Commander…let’s have a look at your injury…”, the healer continued and already prepared the spare bandages. She had forehandedly brought needle and thread as well as the very last bit of the salve against infections, too…and something told her that she would need it… |
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| golden_trillium | Apr 14 2010, 09:41 PM Post #59 |
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Author: lady ione Date: Sat Aug 09, 2008 3:27 pm Ione She began to walk leaving Mirtha to stand in the doorway. She just needed to think things out clearly, and to be alone for a bit. Not that company would not be so bad, but this matter was one that she needed to find good advice in. Ione's mother and father were no longer around, and she had always relied on her father to give her wise counsel. Absently, she walked past a gate the men were working on. Dark eyes looked down at the ground as she walked, and thought. Ione's stomach churned and moved in an odd way, and she placed her hand there. She had to think of the child now, and how to care for it, though she did make enough to live comfortably on from her shop. How was Javier? Where was he? Ione found herself worrying about him quite a lot. The weaver had not eaten much since her return to the fort and now she was just down right hungry for something, though she wondered what sounded good... Damn it all! Things had just not gone right since Javier had left, and to top it off, she stupidly gave in to another man's lust...a lust she gave in to. Why could she not use her stupid head once in a while! Ione had wished that she had gone to Spain with her beloved, but that she had only wanted to say good bye to her friends. She found she could not say good bye to them. To Arthur, her protector, to Darya, Linnette, The knights.....everyone. Ione had only wanted to be Mirtha's friend.... The young woman entered the tavern, and found a dark corner of the room. She saw the handsome knight, Derfel, and another handsome young man (Lucius). Ione had always wanted to marry a knight, or at least a man who loved her for who she was, and then she had found Javier and she almost smiled at the day they had first met. Here in the tavern. Ione sat down in a dark corner, and lay her head on the table feeling miserable. It was at this point when all of her thoughts seemed to gang up on her, that she could no longer give her heart away. That would be reserved only for her child. Javier's child. Looking up, Ione's eyes looked out the window at the darkened sky... ....Ione would no longer give her heart out so readily. Oh, there were a lot of handsome men at the fort, and she had even considered marrying a Roman once. Surely, there was one out there for her. A wench came over with a bowl of soup and some tea... ''Thank you, " Ione whispered. |
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| golden_trillium | Apr 14 2010, 09:42 PM Post #60 |
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Author: Elessars Girl Date: Sun Aug 10, 2008 9:40 am Arthur Arthur wasted no time in emptying the bowl of stew as he had been completely famished. And the warmth of the food as it filled his stomach seemed to offer almost immediate effects on the Roman’s weakened state. But Arthur was no fool, he knew that he would need a few days of solid rest to completely recover…if the wound would remain free from infection.
Arthur sighed with relief at the encouraging news on Dagonet. Of course the loss of his son will go on to pain the tall Sarmatian for a long time to come, Arthur feared. Yet, the Commander certainly sympathized…he would mourn Gedeon’s loss and carry his own guilt at the knight’s death for quite some time as well. But, Arthur allowed a brief smile at the mention of Saoirse….she would look after Dagonet. Darya then returned with the tea and Arthur gratefully accepted a cup from his lover’s hand. The Roman’s emerald eyes looked to her with gentleness and concern and he lightly brushed his hand over Darya’s in silent support as she joined him at the table. Arthur then slid the plate of cheese and bread in front of his lover; giving her a nod in encouragement to eat as Neeve spoke again.
“She is right Darya, please drink…and eat,” Arthur quietly spoke to Darya while ignoring Neeve’s quip about their lack of rest. The Commander had rested enough in his opinion…but he had serious concerns about whether or not Darya had. He would see to it though…his lover would spend the remainder of the evening and night quietly here in bed.
“If you insist,” Arthur answered as he sat down his mug and gave Neeve a wry grin. He then pulled his black tunic up over his head, grimacing only once at the pain the movement caused him, and draped the garment over the edge of the table. Arthur pushed his chair back from the table and sat up straight to give Neeve complete access to his side. He reached up to rub thick fingers over the stubble that itched at this throat. A shave and a proper bath would suit the Commander now….but not a luxury he could afford tonight considering the impending return of his officers and further duties he’d need to perform – wounded and weak or not. “Darya, please eat….the tea is not enough, hm?” Arthur said gently to his lover and offered the Sarmatian a caring smile in the hopes of reassuring her. There was much to discuss between them still….once they were alone again. Arthur’s gaze briefly ticked to Darya’s abdomen as Neeve began her work. A child…my child. Surprise and astonishment still filled Arthur’s thoughts on the matter. The Roman still felt unworthy of a family of his own….and how could he protect them? He was a soldier and duty often took him away from the fortress and into danger and possibly to his own death each and every mission. |
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