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August 2008
Topic Started: Apr 12 2010, 09:09 PM (2,839 Views)
golden_trillium

Admin
Author: lady ione
Date: Sun Aug 10, 2008 11:37 am
Adian


Adian was still "miles away" from his company, and the slow
dance seemed to not even be happening. He knew somehow that
Thorn would want him to move on with his life, but all of the
love he had felt for her (which sometimes overwhelmed him),
made Adian missed her greatly. No woman would ever be able to
take her place...not ever. Not even the young beauty in his
arms right now, though he had proposed to her, could not take
Thorn's place. He broke his thoughts for a moment to look into
the green eyes of Tatiana. Adian promised her life and
happiness, and he'd do just that....but he swore that Thorn
would still come first, and the mental punishment he was now
putting himself through because he felt he should have been
here to protect her and the unborn child.

To have her severed almost in two by a woad as well as the
unborn child and the young boy she had tried to save which
would have been so like her to do so....

Adian reached up and ran soft strands of copper hair between
his fingers as they danced. Truth be told, Tatiana was a
beauty. As they moved about to the tune he softly sang, Adian
knew that somehow he liked Tatiana, and yes, he'd do
everything in his power to give her the life he had promised
Thorn: She'd want for nothing, and he'd make her happy. Thorn
would always be there in his life, until such as time as he
deemed it time to let her go. Tatiana seemed to somehow
understand that from what she had said so far, and he'd hold
her to it.

Right now, she just felt plain good in his arms with the
memory of her naked body close to his during the bath they
shared. Adian nuzzled her neck taking in her scent: warm
earthy smells mixed with sweet herbs...

"So lovely...ethereal..." random soft kisses were placed on
her neck and shoulder, his one hand still running over her
hair gently tilting her neck to kiss more of her. Controlling
himself (as he was still grieving), the young man lifted his
head to look at his new lover. The dance ended and he just
stood holding her close to him...feeling the way her body had
moved. In the past, he had been labeled a cad and a rouge, and
yes, he was the first to admit it, but if the right woman were
to come into his life, he'd change. He was willing to change
for Thorn, and he'd change for Tatiana. Looking at the ground,
then back into her eyes, Adian smiled, "You dance well. I
haven't sung that song for such a long time, nor have I danced
in that long...use to sing all the time."

His smile grew, though with a hint of sadness, as Tatiana
spoke...

Tatiana
 
"Yes. That they are, indeed. You'll always have those as
noone can take them away from you." "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."


Well, perhaps beeswax would work on a dark wood finish. "I
love the idea, Tatiana. Something Celtic in design and yet
delicate and strong...." He left her side and walked over to
Thorn's sword, and hefted it in his hands. It was a well made
sword: lite in weight, but with a well tempered blade. "Love
the idea a lot..."

Once the display was done, he'd end his grieving and move on
with his life...
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: Darya
Date: Sun Aug 10, 2008 11:43 am
Neeve and Darya


Neeve watched the persons before her closely. The small subtle
gestures…the looks. Something was going on here…something that
caused a certain tension. However, it was none of her
business…and the healer was a mistress in ignoring things,
thus she decided to do exactly that…

Arthur
 
“She is right Darya, please drink…and eat. Darya, please
eat….the tea is not enough, hm?”


The dark Sarmatian returned Arthur’s smile with a lopsided one
of her own when he pushed the plate with the bread and cheese
over to her. “If you insist…”, Darya quoted her lover in a
weak attempt of humour, but then puffed out a breath and
hesitantly took a piece of bread. She alternately bit off some
bread and sipped on the tea while watching Neeve beginning to
examine Arthur again.

When the Roman had pulled his tunic off, Darya grimaced
slightly at the sight of his injury. Yes, the healer had done
stitching to it earlier…but in her opinion it did not really
look that much better. Dark eyes lifted from the wound to her
lover’s face…silently asking what had happened that had
caused…this… And Neeve was not exactly overjoyed either by
what she saw once the Commander had done as she had asked… The
Briton stiffly licked her lips and hunkered down beside the
Roman to take a closer look at him. She removed the bandage
which was partly soaked with blood.

Why am I not surprised?

Once she was done with it, her long cool fingers cautiously,
fleetingly brushed over the patched up wound…and she found
three stitches popped, which explained the blood on the
bandages. Neeve tsked quietly and glanced up at Arthur with
slight accusation visible in her crystal-blue eyes. “You
know…resting properly and keeping it low for a bit does not
cause this…”, she stated dryly and pointed at the popped
stitches before scrutinizing the injury yet again. The skin
felt too warm…and was slightly reddened, too, which meant the
Roman had mild infection of that. Men…they just never listen!,
the raven-haired thought bitterly and grabbed the few items
she had brought. “I have to re-stitch one end of it…”, she
then explained calmly, yet with a hint of scolding in her
voice, “…it got infected, too. It is not that bad yet…but I
will do something against it before the infection gets worse…”


Darya’s eyes briefly widened when the healer spoke of an
infection and the grip on her mug of tea tightened. “But…he’ll
be okay again…right?”, the Sarmatian asked and met the other
woman’s gaze for a moment. “Well, yes…if he listens this time.
It does no good to skin and flesh to be stitched too often at
the same place while not even close to being healed…”, the
Briton replied and then let her gaze shift from the Sarmatian
woman to the Commander in front of her. Darya nodded slightly
while putting her mug down and grabbed some of the cheese. She
did not really feel hungry…but thought it better to eat. She
had to get used to being responsible for two now…which
included eating for two as well. And with that thought, her
eyes were back on Arthur…and with the cheese still in one
hand, the dark-haired stood and moved to stand behind her
lover. She wanted to be there when the healer would do the
stitching… Gently, she placed one hand onto his bare shoulder
and stood as close to him as possible…

Meanwhile, Neeve had prepared the new bandages as well as the
salve, which had already prevented Arthur from getting an even
worse infection and should now help to work against the minor
one that was there nevertheless, and threaded the needle she
had brought. She then looked at Darya, who had come to stand
right behind the Commander…and then at Arthur. “Ready when you
are…”, the healer said and held up the needle for the Roman to
see it. He should regret at least a bit to not have listened
to a healer’s 'orders'…
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: Pinkie
Date: Sun Aug 10, 2008 3:49 pm
Mari


Mari recognised the point where he would normally pull away.
She felt the press of his hands against her shoulders and
leaned forward at his insistence. She remained like that,
holding her breath, her eyes shifting side-to-side as she
wondered why he had not gotten up yet, why he was still there
so close to her. The young woman had not touched teh scar
delibarately but knowing she had meant she could use it as
sort of an experiment, to see if he was ready. And after a few
quiet moments it seemed that he was kind of ready indeed!

Mari smiled, feeling Milan's fingers press into the tension
about her over-worked shoulders. She gave a small wince of
pain as he worked at a particularly tight spot and then let
out a relieved breath when the stiff muscle gave way to his
probing, loosening up and leaving a lovely sense of relaxation
in it's stead.

Her head lolled to one side and then the other, brown eyes
closed in silent bliss - no one touched her like this. She
would not let anyone touch her like this either -- not since
him. It would scare her too much to have someone's fingers
upon her when she couldn't see their face. But there was
something identifiable about Milan's fingers to her now. They
felt a certain way, they felt cool, slender and he touched her
with care and caution.

Mari turned her face towards her shoulder, feeling dozey,
sleepy perhaps - except she didn't want to sleep. A warmth was
swimming through her veins making her head feel light and her
limbs feel loose. Her lips pursed and she brushed them against
the tips of Milan's fingers when they brushed over the top of
her shoulders. Frowning, Mari turned an inch and kissed his
fingers again. Her expression was almost pained as she sought
to kiss more of his fingers, one hand lifting from it's grip
on her own ankle to hold Milan's wrist as she turned towards
him, eyes still closed and pressed her mouth to the centre of
his palm. Without conscious thought, without considering her
actions, Mari turned all the way around and without hesitation
pressed her lips to Milan's now, awkwardly trying to mould her
body to his, trying to ease him into a lying position. She had
no idea what she wanted from this moment but she did know she
wanted to be closer to him, she wanted to feel him against
every part of her, sure in the knowledge that he was hers.









Kolya

Alina need not have her feathers ruffled. Kolya had no idea
what he wanted in life. He never had an idea, and it was
unlikely now that he ever would. Too long he had spent without
a choice in the world, too long he had spent being told to go
here, to do this and kill him - too long he had not been
allowed make his own decisions. He was far too long in the
tooth to begin now. The only problem with that was that there
was no longer anyone giving him orders. Rome had stole him
from his home, broke him down and rebuilt him as a dependant
upon her Imperial grace and then rejected him, turned him
aside and left him wandering.

Alina
 
"You are so irritating, Let go of me,"


She may not have had need for feathers in a-ruffle, but Kolya
did find it entirely amusing how easily he could worm under
her skin. She turned adn to give him a fierce glare, looking
magnificently beautiful and terrible all at once. He flashed
her a grin and she attempted to stand --

"Whoa.." he murmured, reaching out his hands to either side of
her body, predicting a stagger due to her wounded ankel. And
he was right too. Alina landed in his lap with a short huff of
breath. The Sarmatian gave a grunt, instinctively tensing his
body and then placed his hands on her hips, placing his chin
on her shoulder and smiled at her. Her hiss to let go of her
was met with a wry chuckle and Kolya did so -- standing at the
same time sending her tumbling forward off his lap.

Ah but he was not so cruel!

His hand was already wrapped about her elbow and he swung her
around, colliding her body against his with a grunt and then
smiled down at her, delicately pushing one lock of hair back
into place with a broad fingertip.

"What exactly have I done that is irritating you pet?" he
asked with a purse to his lips, blue eyes twitching into slits
as he peered at her tumultuous brown eyes.









Drake

Drake had travelled much in his lifetime. He had been born in
Spain and had lived there up until a healthy young age at
which point he joined the Roman Army. He had been all over
Europe by the time he was 20, the troublesome north, the wild
west, the sunny south and he had even been as far as the Holy
Land in the East. He knew the hardships of travels - he knew
saddlesores from being atop a horse all day and night, he knew
bites from all different types of creatures and insects whilst
sleeping on a scrap of wood in the middle of a desert. He knew
what it was to travel alone for a lenghty period of time and
he knew what it was to travel that distance with an infected
wound too.

Despite knowing all these hardships, he still thought the
author of the book that was in his hands was an outrageous
milksop for all his complaining!

However, once he had started to read he had found it almost
impossible to put the book down. He lay on his back with his
arm tucked up behind his head, propped against the wall
beneath the window, his green eyes narrowed, brow furrowed as
he skimmed line after line, living the other man's experiences
until the light was fading. He did not realise he was
squinting to the point of giving himself a headache until a
familiar and blessed voice broke the otherwise silence he had
been enjoying --

Linnette
 
“You…you can read?”


Drake dropped the book to his chest with a hollow thump and he
looked down the darkening room to the door at Linnette as if
he had never seen her before. It took a moment for reailty to
kick back in and he cleared his throat, slinging his legs over
the side of the bed and looking down at the book, his thumb
keeping the book open on the right page. The Spaniard shrugged
one large shoulder and gave a wry, mirthless smile at her
unintentional insult.

"I can write too." he commented mildly, glancing sideways at
her, a twinkling to his eyes not normally there. He knew that
she had not meant insult and he also knew that in a moment she
would realise what she had said and feel horrid for it no
doubt. Clearing his dry throat again, Drake rose from the bed
and walked over to Linnette, flicking the book open to the
page he had been reading to memorise the page number before
offering it towards Linnette for her perusal.

"Surprised?" Drake gave a deep, rich chuckle and rubbed a
finger against his eyebrow whilst looking at the book still.
"My brother taught me." he said in a tense voice, his teeth
gritting together at the mention of his brother. Of course it
would be Claudius that had taught him to read and write...







Galahad

Fiona
 
"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."


Galahad rolled his eyes at Fiona's tenacity on the topic.
There was no way in hell he was going to tell her what had
happened. It was far too embarrassing, emasculating and
besides... it was too painful to actually think about it let
alone voice it. So the Knight grit his teeth and buried the
pain, resolutely setting his jaw for the time being,
determined not to whine, determined not to complain and seek
anyone's comfort or approval.

The pain of his wound was something incredible though. It was
not a lasting pain but it was vivid, it was piercing and it
made him see searing dots hazard across his vision, blinding
him for a moment.

Fiona's apologies were lost in a pit of receding pain.
Galahad's blue eyes were rimmed with red when he opened them,
looking any which way but a the girl who was witnessing his
weakest moments. His pride was severely dented already - it
did him no good to be under the spotlight of anyone's
attentions, let alone someone so young and impressionable as
Fiona. For a brief moment while she hung her head in miserable
silence, not nknowing how to react to his mumbling curses,
Galahad considered the impossible... he considered an ill
thought of vengeance on Alina for her infidelity, he
thought... he wondered how would she like it if he ...

Fiona
 
"Has she always been grouchy?"


"What?" he mumbled brokenly, glancing over to where Fiona was
looking, his thought process entirely dislodged now as he
looked about for the old nun. Lavinia, always grouchy?
Galahad's hand fell down over the top of his head, banging
against the pillow and he gave a meagre shrug of one bare
shoulder. His skin was rather pale from the cold in the
infirmary and he gave a shiver as he half turned onto his
side, dropping the damp cloth onto the bed in front of his
tilted body.

"Her? S'far as I can remember she has been. I've not been here
as long as most though... I could tell you the name of a man
that'd know what she was like before either of us was born..."
Galahad said, his lip curling in distaste... Kolya would know
precisely what Lavinia was like back in the early days, back
in the days of Uther. The young knight sighed and flicked his
figners against the cloth, closing his eyes a moment to calm
himself. Just thinking about Kolya was like lighting a fire in
his veins.
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: golden_trillium
Date: Sun Aug 10, 2008 5:41 pm
Merlin


Mona
 
"We went to rescue Neeria! Your favorite! Why? 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 reaction was immediate and vociferous. Mona screamed out
angry, crazy condemnations, which faded away into painful
coughs, as she curled in upon herself, exhausted by her fit.
Merlin laid his hand on her shoulder and looked up worriedly
at Guinevere and the others surrounding the strange twilight
scene. His eyes immediately sought out Juna, who was tending
to Ash a short distance away, and he spoke in a voice which
was not loud, but which carried to her, tense with concern.

“Juna, do you think she’s well enough to travel? If we can
carry her?” The question was a quick aside from his comforting
of Mona, but it was necessary- it was growing rapidly darker,
and though Merlin did not particularly fear more inroads from
the fort this night, he also felt that they should not linger
if there was a choice. He thought everyone else would be all
right, Ash possibly with help- but Mona was the lingering
question in Merlin’s mind. And her words brought even more
questions.

“It’s not a matter of turns, Mona,” he added, looking back
down on her and his hand tightening on her shoulder with just
a hint of sternness and warning, though it was still mostly
gentle. “Those in my favor have earned it.” As Neeria
certainly did, once. And was it possible that she still ought
to be, that this whole thing was just a misunderstanding of
huge proportions? His memory flashed to the image of
Barbattus, swinging the struggling Neeria up onto his tall
horse as he rode out of the camp, and doubt still clouded his
mind. Maybe it would never be totally resolved- particularly
if Neeria never again left the gates of the fort.








Linnette

Drake
 
"I can write too."


The minute those deceptively bland words were out of his
mouth, Linnette realized how rude her blurted question had
been. Of course, to someone of good family, to someone to whom
reading was not unusual, say, like herself, it would sound
like an insult! She realized, though, as her cheeks colored
and she tried to stammer an apology that would not sound even
worse, that she knew basically nothing about his family
background or upbringing- only that he had been in the army
for a long time and that his wife and sons were dead. Nothing
about his boyhood- nothing at all.

"Oh...of course, well...not of course, but I didn't mean..I'm
sorry." Flustered, she gave up trying to speak, and just gave
him a pained, embarrassed look- but then she caught the
sideways sparkle in his eye and the tension and discomfort
eased. He was teasing her, a little- which must mean he was
not angry. She let out her next breath on a quiet sigh of
relief, though she still did not quite feel at ease- but that
lingering discomfort was abrubtly banished as Drake, having
rose from the bed and crossed the room, now held the book out
to her to see. She took it with a sudden spurt of eagerness,
her eyes lighting up, her mind seizing on this distraction
from, well...everything. The title- she had to tilt the book
towards the window to see it properly- "Travels Throughout the
Known World"- it looked fascinating! And she had never seen this particular volume before- it wasn't in the Villa Rosarum's library, nor in Arthur's smaller collection, which the Commander had let Linnette borrow from in the past. Thoroughly diverted, she ran her fingers down over the rich leather cover, then reverently opened it to the first page, her other arm cradling carefully it like the treasure it was.

Drake
 
"Surprised? My brother taught me."


"Well...yes, a bit surprised," Linnette confessed with a soft
laugh, her embarrassment no longer evident despite the
admission of surprise, and her eyes still glued to the
dimly-seen page of the book. She turned several pages ahead,
then several more, skimming the contents, individual words and
phrases standing out to her as she went.
Arabia...Jerusalem...wild eastern barbarians... Did that refer
to the Sarmatians, Linnette wondered? Her expression clouded a
little, her brows knitting together, and she shut the book
carefully, running her hand down the cover again almost
caressingly. She looked back up at Drake, her head tilting to
the side, her voice small, her manner more hesitant again.

"Do you think I could read it some time?" A book was so
valuable, it was a large request to make...but it would make
an excellent diversion. Even now, she was practically itching
to see it in better light.
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: lady ione
Date: Sun Aug 10, 2008 6:33 pm
Ione


She sipped a bit on the soup, but it just did not look good,
and Ione pushed the bowl away. Well, she figured the longer
she sat here, the more depressed and emotional she'd get. Ione
stood slowly, and pulled her cloak about her form after
casting two coins on the table. The night air was damp and
cold, and it made Ione shiver a bit. She continued to walk,
and think. Right now, it was probably best that she had no
company....

...Javier had always said that going to the chapel was a good
idea, but right now, Ione did not believe in a god. Though her
father...he would have done such a thing as he believed in
prayer. She stopped in front of the chapel wondering if she
should go inside or not. Gods she needed to stop thinking of
all of her problems and worries. Worrying about the future...

Ione felt a tear pass down her cheeks. Why did all of this...

She heard an odd noise that sounded something like 'skreet'
though soft. She frowned. If it was a large rat, she was going
to scream and run. 'Skreeeet....' Tentivly, Ione moved from
where she stood to follow the noise. It was dark though the
courtyard and the area around the chapel was dimly lit by
torches. The sound seemed to be closer now, and eminating from
some shrubs outside the building. Normally, she'd be afraid to
approach such noises as she detested rats and other rodents,
but this noise seemed pathetic somehow.

'Skreet....' Ione's frown deepened as she peered into the
bracken that grew around the backside of the chapel. What she
saw made her heart stop, then race a bit. A large bird...well
not really large, but a bird of prey non the less. The lovely
bird looked up at her cautiously, and it was panting as though
in pain. "shhhh...I won't hurt you...." Ione moved branches
back slowly wondering what was wrong with it. The bird tried
to move away from her, and it was not using its right wing at
all. She reached out slowly to it and the bird snapped at her.
"Hush now....I will help you....I can't let you here for some
cat to get you for dinner..." As Ione undid her cloak, the
injured frightened bird still snapped at her (partially to be
cautious and partialy because of the pain, but mostly because
it did not know her), and used it to carefully pick up the
bird so as not to injure its wing further. The hawk screeched
in pain, but Ione was determined to take it out of harms way,
and take it to some place warm and safe....

...Birds liked hay and perhaps the stables would be a warm
safe place to care for it. Ione made soft shushing noises as
she wrapped the bird carefully in her cloak to keep it warm,
and the wing safe. The stable was not far from here, and if
she hurried, she could get inside before the stable hands
left. With all haste, Ione walked toward the stables wondering
how a hawk could have gotten inside...

Tristan? Was this Tristan's hawk? Ione hoped it wasn't, but
then, she had not seen the bird much since the knights had
come home, and she knew that Tristan had a hawk that he loved
very much. The young woman slipped inside the stables with the
crying bird, and looked about for a safe place to care for
it....
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: sabor ice
Date: Mon Aug 11, 2008 2:52 am
Ash


He smiled wryly at Eala's reaction, watching as she turned her
back and plopped herself petulantly on the ground. Ash hadn't
meant to upset her, but perhaps her awareness of the situation
was for the better. He was not cruel as to tease her about
living or dying. Perhaps his dry humor was not so funny for a
child, but Ash was also not going to shelter her from reality.
He wouldn't lie to her and tell her he'd always be there, that
he'd never die. Dying was apart of living. Seeing her brother
die must've struck a chord within her. He was sure that on
some level she accepted the consequences their way of life
sometimes presented, and she understood that it went without
certainty that a person wouldn't die. It wasn't right and it
wasn't fair at times, but such was life. Ash understood her
pain, and he would never purposely seek to inflict further
harm upon her. That was why he wouldn't attempt to erase the
shadow of doubt from her mind. He wanted her to be prepared,
in case someday Death would come for him and leave her alone.

Juna
 
“Drink these. I’m going to apply a strong medication
that should draw the infection from the wound. Then I’ll
have to sew it again. It will hurt, but you already know
that. When I’m done you’ll feel better...I need light,
Eala. To see,”


Ash gently pulled his hand out from under Eala's tiny digits,
propping himself into a more dignified position despite the
pain, careful not to disrupt the healer's work. He took her
prescribed medications, coughing them down, before handing her
back the vials. He gave a stifled grunt when she placed the
poultice on a cloth against his wound, but otherwise tried to
relax and let the potions take affect, observing the healer
from beneath half-lidded eyes.

"I won't always be here for her," the Woad directed his words
toward Juna, hoping she had been able to grasp the meaning
behind his words.

Ash knew Eala would always be watched over by her people -
whether he was around to enforce it or not - but there were
not many he'd entrust her well-being to. She was young and
impressionable, and without someone to help guide her, he did
not want to think about what could become of her. He didn't
know Juna on a very personal level, but he trusted her
inexplicably. Ash believed the healer would look out for the
girl's best interests if ever a time came he could no longer
do so.









Milan

The silence that stretched between them was overwhelming but
not unbearable. The soft crackle of the hearth and her quiet
murmurs of approval set a sort of peaceful atmosphere. His
fingers worked to loosen the tension between her
shoulder-blades, moving to the tendons between her neck and
shoulders as time went on. In the back of his mind a voice
kept telling him he'd had enough, that he should pull away
now, that it was not safe for him to allow this to continue.
Another part of him squashed that voice. He didn't want to
push her away like he had done in the past. He wanted to be
close to her.

His attention was drawn to the side of her face as she turned
an inch to kiss his fingers atop her shoulder. His lips parted
as she turned his palm over, head cocking to the side as he
watched her brush her lips against the center of the
appendage. Milan's pulse quickened as she turned and pressed
herself to him, her lips fervent upon his. For a moment he did
not react to her advances, stunned and confused as to just
what he had done to warrant such a passionate response from
her. Senses soon overpowered logic, and he returned the kiss,
pulling her to the ground with him.

The position grew uncomfortable for him - not because Mari was
heavy, but because of the tenderness spread throughout his
body where bruises mended. He turned onto his side, his arm
tightening its hold round her, keeping her body to his. His
free hand ran along the length of her arm until he found her
hand and laced fingers with hers. He lavished the exposed skin
of her neck and collarbone with wet kisses, shifting himself
partially over her and gently pinning her hand to the blanket
beneath them. A few moments later he paused, releasing a warm
breath against her skin as he pulled back. His focus
momentarily dropped to the rise of flesh at her bodice,
fascinated by the erratic rise and fall of her chest. A ripple
of unexplainable delight coursed through him. He raised his
blue gaze to briefly meet hers, his thumb now studiously
tracing the outline of her lips as he watched her.

He dipped his head in embarrassment and prepared to pull away,
certain he had somehow disrespected or offended her.

"I..m...sorry..." Milan murmured.









Alina

Kolya
 
"Whoa...What exactly have I done that is irritating you
pet?"


She gave a start, wide-eyed, when he abruptly stood and nearly
sent her spiraling to the ground again. But, he had caught her
by the elbow and whipped her around to face him. Her footing
was awkward on the sleek step. Her fingers instinctively
curled into his tunic, holding onto him just enough to ensure
she wouldn't fall if he decided to let go - and considering
she had been the one that had ordered him to do so in the
first place, it was a distinct possibility he'd still consider
complying. Somewhere deep down, though, she didn't believe he
would, not even if he was feeling particularly bastardly, or
she was tetchy toward him. They had together been through an
ordeal or two. He had trusted her not to let him die, so
perhaps he was entitled to a little faith from her side.

Her hands dropped away from his chest, twisting together
against her flat abdomen.

She had initially blatantly dismissed the possibility that
perhaps she had been using falling as an excuse to be close to
him. She wanted to leave, not stay. She wanted him to leave
her be, not pursue. She wanted to be free of this constant
internal torment and return to Galahad - her constant, her
love - and no longer have vicious indecision stand in her way.
She wanted this to be over. That's what she kept telling
herself, so why could she not persuade herself to do so, to
end this? This situation didn't seem to trouble Kolya any.
Alina couldn't fathom why it was not the same for her. When
had she gotten in over her head? When had she lost control?

"Doesn't it bother you that I belong to someone else?" Alina
asked him. She sniffed quietly, resting her forehead against
his chin. "I love him, that won't change. It matters to me how
he feels; to know I'm the cause of his pain is unbearable
but..."

The dark-haired woman pulled away and raised her chin. Vibrant
brown eyes locked onto Kolya's, her expression torn.

"No matter how hard I try, I can't seem to say good-bye to
you. Maybe I don't want to say good-bye..." Alina added. Her
gaze dropped to her entwined fingers and she shrugged
half-heartedly. A mirthless chuckle left her lips, suddenly
feeling foolish of her admittance. She added wryly, echoing
his earlier words: "I'm just a simple woman."
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Author: Pinkie
Date: Mon Aug 11, 2008 10:50 am
Eala


Eala didn't ever really feel alone. She often felt left out of
the loop and sometimes ignored, but her family was all around
her. The other woads would never turn their back on her. In
her own little ten-year-old mind, they needed her. She was as
good a fighter as she was now, what would seh be like when she
was fully grown? Would she be as good as Guinevere? Better?
She daren't hope that but she often did wonder. The curse of
deafness was something that others would become used to. Like
Donnchadh had. Like Ash was. If they just took a little longer
to look at her...

Wide black eyes stared straight at Juna when she looked up.
She was putting something onto the wound and giving him
something else - the little blonde could not keep up. She was
by no means squeamish but she did feel rather ill looking at
how badly wounded Ash was. When Juna spoke Eala moved forward
rather suddenly, staring intently at the woman's mouth,
resolved to understand precisely what was needed without it
being repeated.

Light... something about ... light, needed ... ! AH!

The little blonde nodded vigorously and unfolded her lanky
body with a slight wince of pain. The bruises and bangs she
had gotten in the dungeons had left her a bit stiff, and she
ambled off quickly to get light from somewhere. She gathered
up a few twigs and bits of bark, twisting them messily around
a thicker piece of stick and ran up to one of the woads
holding a torch, tugging on his tunic for his attention. When
he looked down at her with curious impatiene, Eala scowled,
gesturing with a wave of her hand to the fire. He understood
and lit the make-shift torch.

Eala hurried back to where Juna was, a line of smoke trailing
out from her torch to mark her path. She skidded to a halt,
banging down onto her knees with a deilghted smile on her
face, proud that she had understood and delivered. But the
light only illuminated Ash's pallour, the sickly dewy sweat on
his face. The blonde frowned then gestured to his wound,
looking up at Juna expectantly.
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Author: Kay
Date: Mon Aug 11, 2008 1:18 pm
Guinevere


Merlin
 
“How was she injured? Is this all from when she attacked
you?”


Guinevere looked at her father.

"It was a fierce fight" she said. "She was screaming that she
hated me and tried to stab me. I did what I had to do"

Mona
 
"We went to rescue Neeria! Your favorite! Why? 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!"


Guinevere stared at the raving Woad in disbelief. Is that what
all this had been about? Some deluded claim to Merlin?

Merlin spoke quietly to the raving girl; his voice was gentle
and yet there was a hint of censure in his demeanour. He
enquired of Juna, if Mona could travel. Guinevere suddenly
felt weary and the thought of a comfortable bed was very
appealing. Her body ached from the fight with Mona.

"Are we going home now, Father?" she asked.
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Author: Elessars Girl
Date: Mon Aug 11, 2008 1:58 pm

Arthur


Arthur was thankful to see Darya eating and gave his lover an
approving smile while Neeve began her examination. The
Commander pressed the palms of his hands to his leather clad
thighs and bit at his bottom lip while Neeve removed his
bandages. As the cloth was pulled away from the line of
stitches, Arthur felt a slight stinging sensation as the
cooler air in the room hit his uncovered wound. However, the
Roman remained placid while Neeve made a noise of
disapproval…his green eyes followed her gaze to see the fresh
seepage of blood around one end of the line of stitches, and
the flesh there looked angry. So Arthur’s actions earlier with
Lancelot had indeed re-injured his wound. I did what I had
to…to protect him.

Neeve
 
“You know…resting properly and keeping it low for a bit
does not cause this…”


The Commander mockingly narrowed his eyes at the healer, yet
there was no real malice in his gaze. Arthur was, after all,
well accustomed to Neeve’s ‘bedside manner’. And he knew that
it was only due to the fact that the Briton cared for his well
being that Neeve fussed at him the way she did. Arthur
slightly winced at her touch as Neeve’s cold fingers touched
along the wound as she continued her examination.

Neeve
 
“I have to re-stitch one end of it…it got infected, too.
It is not that bad yet…but I will do something against
it before the infection gets worse…”


Arthur gave a nod in silent agreement for what Neeve wished to
do in treatment and gratitude for Neeve’s caring of his
injury. And as Darya spoke, it gave Arthur another thought…on
behalf of Darya’s ‘condition’. The Roman trusted Neeve and his
lover would need the best care he could afford in the coming
months…not to mention he still wished further confirmation
that Darya was indeed pregnant and not suffering some illness
that mimicked the same symptoms of a pregnancy.

Darya
 
“But…he’ll be okay again…right?”


“I will be fine,” Arthur interjected even as Neeve began to
answer Darya’s concern.

Neeve
 
“Well, yes…if he listens this time. It does no good to
skin and flesh to be stitched too often at the same
place while not even close to being healed…”


“I am still here…no need to discuss me as if my hearing has
become impaired,” Arthur groused, albeit quietly. He knew both
women only cared for his well being, but he had no real
patience for this injury. Arthur would rest tonight once his
Optio had returned with a new treaty of peace with Merlin.
Yet, sunset had come to the fortress and still no word from
Scipio and the others. If the Optio had failed to locate
Merlin or worse, then Arthur would be faced with the very real
threat of another attack….even though the Commander had yet to
understand why the Woad leader had severed their agreement in
the first place.

Arthur cleared his throat and mentally prepared for the stab
of Neeve’s needle as the healer finished gathering her
supplies. Darya’s tiny hand on his shoulder was a comfort, but
Arthur had suffered worse things and could easily withstand
the patchwork to his stitches.

Neeve
 
“Ready when you are…”


“I am ready,” Arthur confirmed and set his jaw; emerald eyes
clear and focused on Neeve’s determined expression.

“You may be of further service to me in the coming months,
Neeve,” Arthur said as both a distraction and truly wanting to
confirm that Neeve would help Darya. He turned his head
upwards to meet Darya’s concerned dark eyes.

“I have known Neeve for many years…she is a skilled healer and
a good friend,” Arthur said with a steady voice despite the
pinch of the needle to his already irritated flesh. He knew
that Darya would understand what his intentions were….that he
wished for Neeve to oversee the Sarmatian’s pregnancy…if Darya
would agree.
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Author: Starbelle
Date: Mon Aug 11, 2008 2:06 pm
Tatiana


Enjoying the slow dance that they shared together, Tatiana
felt shivers run through her body as Adian lowered his head to
place kisses at her neck and shoulder, closing her eyes and
gasping slightly when he gently tilted her neck back to place
a few kisses there as well.

Blinking and looking up at him when he stopped, she felt
slightly lost when he did so, as if Adian had bespelled or
mesmerized her in some way with what he did.

Adian
 
"You dance well. I haven't sung that song for such a
long time, nor have I danced in that long...use to sing
all the time."


"Thanks, Adian. I really enjoyed that. You've got a good
voice, yourself. Is that another talent of yours that you can
add to your list?" Tatiana queried playfully as a sparkle
danced in her green eyes indicating that she was just teasing
him.

Adian
 
"I love the idea, Tatiana. Something Celtic in design
and yet delicate and strong...." "Love the idea a
lot..."


"Good. I'm glad, Adian" She replied happily, pleased that an
idea that she came up with was considered a good one. Seeing
the sword that he held in his hands, she figured that it
belonged to Thorn, but didn't ask to touch it, just used her
eyes for that.
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Author: linnet
Date: Mon Aug 11, 2008 8:56 pm

Juna


Ash, like most all the Woads, was an ideal patient. Merlin’s
people knew their bodies and their limits. When medical
attention was necessary, they recognized it, and put up no
resistance or displays of foolish bravado to avoid help. They
gave themselves over to Juna’s ministrations, trusting her
knowledge and experience to take care of what needed fixing.
They never questioned her methods, quietly allowing her to do
what she excelled at. When someone was beyond saving, that
trust and faith weighed heavily on Juna. Even though the
hopeless usually knew in their deepest being that there was
nothing she could do to keep them among the living, she still
felt that she was failing their trust. It was all part of her
complicated need to stay detached, impersonal, and to work
ever harder to thwart death.

Ash was weak and in serious pain, and Eala clearly knew it.
Juna was certain that if she could get all the infection
cleared, he would recover and be fine after a time of rest.
But determining if the wound was free of infection required
the light that Eala had run off to obtain. Juna had seen
Eala’s understanding of what was being asked of her, and she
gave the girl a nod of encouragement before she left. The
healer continued to hold the medicine-soaked cloth tightly
against Ash’s open flesh, allowing time for it to draw out the
infectious matter.

Ash
 
"I won't always be here for her."


Juna understood the young warrior’s words. She took some time
before replying. Eala would never be abandoned and left
without someone to care about her. The Woads would simply
never let that happen. But who that would be, if Ash were
gone, was important. Eala formed strong, emotionally dependent
attachments to specific individuals she could communicate with
- her family, her brother when he was the only one left, and
now Ash. Juna knew she could never be the right person for
Eala to bond with. Eala was a true Woad in body and mind, a
warrior without hesitation. Juna was neither Woad nor warrior.
It couldn’t work on any level. She couldn’t be a mentor or an
example. And she certainly could not take on the role of a
mother to the girl. Juna was never the mothering type. But if
it ever came to that, she would do everything in her power to
make sure there was someone ‘right’ for Eala. “You know that
Merlin would see that Eala will always have someone,” the
healer finally answered quietly. “Besides, as long as I have a
hand in things, you will be here.” Her words were not empty
reassurance. To Juna they were fact. She would not let Ash die
as long as it was within her power. Somehow this person had
broken through her barrier of detachment. He was not just
another impersonal Woad to be saved; he was Ash.

Merlin
 
“Juna, do you think she’s well enough to travel? If we
can carry her?”


Juna had been aware of Mona’s rantings to Merlin about Merlin,
even though she hadn’t heard every word. Her attention was on
Ash’s care, so she had only cast a couple of quick looks at
them. Merlin’s question caused her to turn her head in his
direction, while she remained kneeling at Ash’s side, holding
the compress in place. “No,” she replied with a touch of
irritation in her voice. She had been worrying about Ash being
able to travel home. Now she was supposed to ponder the
fitness of a nearly dead lunatic? “I don’t think she’d
survive, and I don’t know why you’d want someone who has lost
all reason, and who has tried to murder your daughter, brought
back to the village…” she said, letting her words trail off as
if finished, but adding in a voice she didn’t think anyone as
far away as Merlin could hear, “… where she would spend her
demented days calling me a crone and chasing after you.”

Before Merlin could respond to Juna’s touchy reply, Eala
returned with a makeshift torch. The healer smiled gratefully
to show her genuine appreciation. She let Eala hold the light
while she moved the cloth away from Ash’s wound. The puss that
covered the damp fabric reeked, but it was a good sign that
the medication had worked well. She reached to take the torch
from Eala, and tried to use it to see if any infection
remained. The light was better than nothing, but meager. She
couldn’t see any bad areas and had to rely on what was
visible. She picked a threaded bone needle from her bag,
dipped the needle in a disinfecting jar, and carefully worked
the thread back and forth through Ash’s pale skin, closing the
wound with a line of neat stitches. All that was left was to
bandage the area, and determine if it would be best for him to
travel now or wait.
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Author: Darya
Date: Tue Aug 12, 2008 11:16 am
Neeve and Darya


Arthur
 
“I will be fine… I am still here…no need to discuss me
as if my hearing has become impaired,”


Neeve smirked slightly at the Commander’s words and patted the
man’s knee half teasingly, half motheringly. “Maybe I should
check your ears, hm? Just to be sure…”, the healer said while
shifting into the most suitable position to start her work,
which she then did the moment Arthur confirmed that he was
ready…

Darya wrinkled her nose when the healer started to re-stitch
Arthur’s injury and leaned a bit forward to place a fleeting
kiss onto the top of her lover’s head before averting her dark
gaze from the needle poking into skin…and even put the last
bit of cheese away, convinced that eating any more would make
her feel sick right now…when…

Arthur
 
“You may be of further service to me in the coming
months, Neeve,”


What? Dark Sarmatian eyes widened slightly…

Arching an eyebrow, Neeve briefly parted her gaze from her
work and looked up at Arthur instead. “I am always at your
service, Commander…”, she replied rather matter-of-factly, yet
with a hint of curiousness in her voice, “…do you want me to
come up with a special treatment for your knights to prevent
them from drinking too much ale?” With that, the Briton gave
the Roman a wry grin, which soon faded again when she noticed
from the corner of her eyes that Arthur’s attention was on
Darya now. Pursing her lips, the healer narrowed her eyes a
bit and focused on getting done with stitching the man’s
injury. Perhaps his request had nothing to do with the knights
but with the other woman instead…

Arthur
 
“I have known Neeve for many years…she is a skilled
healer and a good friend,”


Darya’s mouth dropped slightly open and she stared outright
into her lover’s green eyes. She knew what he was up to…but
was not sure if she liked the idea. It had been hard enough
for her to learn to trust Isolde…and now Arthur wanted her to
trust yet another healer? Someone she hardly knew? Of course
the Sarmatian trusted the Commander like no other…hence also
trusted his judgment about Neeve…but still… The dark-haired
blinked and her lips moved as if she wanted to say
something…yet for a long moment, no word came over them.
Instead, her hand on the Roman’s shoulder tensed…and the woman
sighed.

Neeve finished her stitching and began to apply the herbal
salve to the Commander’s newly patched up injury. However, she
glanced up at the two persons in front of her…noticing Darya’s
reluctance and the unhappy expression in her dark eyes.
Apparently female Sarmatians had just as many issues seeing a
healer as male ones had. But why would Arthur want her to
check on his lover anyway? The other woman was a bit pale…but
did not look exactly ill. But then the Briton repeated the
Roman’s earlier sentence in her mind…

You may be of further service to me in the coming months…

Sicknesses lasting for months were a very rare thing for
usually the person concerned died before that time…though
something else would fit the Commander's comment… This thought
let the raven-haired woman furrow her brow and her blue gaze
shifted from Darya to Arthur and back… Then she discreetly
cleared her throat to break the awkward silence and applied
the last bit of salve to the Commander’s skin before picking
up the new bandages…

The healer clearing her throat let Darya break her eye-contact
with Arthur and she glanced at her hand on the Roman’s
shoulder. “If you think that’s the right thing to do…”, the
Sarmatian murmured, definitely not happy with the idea of
having to deal with yet another healer…but trusting her lover
enough to respect his wish if he indeed wanted Neeve to have
an eye on her…
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Author: golden_trillium
Date: Tue Aug 12, 2008 11:30 am
Tristan


The scout worked methodically in Tirgatao’s stall, brushing
down his new mount all over while the horse contentedly buried
his nose in a full feed sack. He was pleased with the animal’s
performance today- but uneasy in his mind about the whole
afternoon’s happenings. As he had said to Jols- and very much
meant- Barbattus and Scipio had fucked it up. Both of them.
Now, as the squire and Mordred went about their tasks nearby,
Tristan worked in reflective silence, until, just as he was
putting the curry comb away, the stable doors creaked open
again- and a small, avian “skreet” perked up Tristan’s sharp
ears.

The hawk! Worry nagging at the back of his mind even before he
had really been able to see what the situation was, Tristan
hurriedly stepped around the gate of Tirgatao’s stall- though
he closed the bolt carefully behind him- and came down the
center aisle of the stables, his feet making almost no sound
on the straw-covered floor. Coming towards him was the weaver
girl, Ione, a small, bundle in her hands, that cheeped at him
and moved weakly as he came closer.

“What happened?” he asked sharply, his eyes flashing a bit
dangerously at the girl as he reached out with paradoxically
gentle hands to take the bird. She had been with him when they
had left the fort, soaring above- and though he could not
remember seeing her during the confrontation with the
gods-forsaken Woads, that hadn’t worried him- she often went
hunting by herself, and why shouldn’t she? If she had been
injured, though…Tristan felt the lump of worry increase in
size in his throat. Only his horse would have commanded more
solicitous attention than his beloved bird.











Merlin

Guinevere
 
"Are we going home now, Father?"


Juna
 
“No, I don’t think she’d survive, and I don’t know why
you’d want someone who has lost all reason, and who has
tried to murder your daughter, brought back to the
village.”


“Well you can scarcely be suggesting that we just abandon
her!” Merlin exploded suddenly, propelling himself to his feet
in one angry motion as Juna bent, muttering discontentedly,
over her patient. Gods curse it! They couldn’t do that. Mona
was still one of them, and they had to at least try. Gritting
his teeth, Merlin whirled on the group of warriors standing
nearest to him.

“Make a litter for her- part of one of the huts might serve.”
The Woad leader gestured angrily over to the former huts of
the camp, standing ghost-like and empty in the twilight. Their
walls were tight-woven and sturdy enough, and it saved making
a purpose-built structure. Merlin’s eyes slid uneasily back
over to Juna and her patient, feeling already a little
contrite for his outburst- but only a little. Only a touch.

“One for Ash, too,” Merlin added. “And…” the Woad leader
looked over to the bodies of the two dead and sighed heavily.
They would be burdened enough as it was, and they really
should not hang around the camp longer than necessary, just in
case.

“Cover the dead with some branches for now. We’ll send back a
burial party tomorrow.” Fuck it. Burying them would be a
miserable job, with the hard, cold winter ground. Feeling a
new surge of exasperation, Merlin turned on Guinevere, now,
stepping towards her threateningly and speaking in a hoarse
whisper.

“In the future, daughter, remember that there are punishments
that fit the crime and those that do not. Leaving five of our
warriors utterly defenseless while you went to an unknown fate
in the fortress was not wise, and two of them have paid the
final price because of your actions.” He turned from her with
another angry exhalation, then whirled back suddenly. In truth
he felt this close to striking something, but just going off
and punching a tree was a stupid, adolescent thing to do. He
had more control than that- he had to.

“Go help cover them. Look upon their faces and consider how
you might have done otherwise.” Merlin ordered Guinevere
sullenly, before turning back again to see how the progress of
the healing and the litters was coming along. It was now dark
enough that virtually the only illumination in the clearing
was the torches- not much for a journey.
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Author: Pinkie
Date: Tue Aug 12, 2008 11:33 am
Amadeus


"Stupid, imbecile..." the words were muttered from the Optio's
moist, thin lips. He stalked through the fortress as if he
owned it and by God! By God and all that was good in Rome, he
would be Lord of this Fortress sooner rather than later. If
the likes of Barbattus was what Arthur allowed to assume
command then the place was more doomed than he ever wuold have
thought. Amadeus calmed himself by conjuring a particular type
of punishment for Barbattus once he took over. And there was
no doubt in his mind now that he had to take over command of
Badon Hill. No doubt whatsoever... that the woads thought they
cuold treat with teh Romans at all was laughable! That the
Roman Commander sent his Optio out to negotiate with the devil
himself was poison to Rome.

The Optio whirled around a corner, tugging gloves off his
hands, his mucky boots leaving marks with every thud but what
did he care? Oh he didn't - not one bit.

The well walked path to the Commander's door had no obstacles
along the way, no on lingering about the place - all were
employed in restoring the fortress to some sort of order after
the attack he damn well hoped.

Huffing out a breath, Amadeus rapped his white knuckles
against Arthur's door and leaned his head towards it.

"Amadeus Scipio, Commander." he announced himself roughly
seeing as he had no summons to be here.
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Author: lady ione
Date: Tue Aug 12, 2008 2:47 pm
Ione


Ione felt helpless with the crying injured bird in her arms.
If her father had been here right now, he'd have known what to
do. She had been good with some animals like Llawen, her gray
tabby cat, and Tarik, her dark bay mare, but she had always
felt helpless when it came to birds. There were some in the
stables, but none that she thought could help the injured
bird. The young weaver heard noises from the stables of riders
caring for their horses, and she hoped that one of them might
help. She looked down st the bird, noticing that it's beak was
still opened as it panted in pain. Her heart went out to it,
and to whoever the owner was...What if it was Tristain's hawk?
Ione spoke softly to the bird in her native welsh, and the
bird seemed to calm down a bit. Out of the corner of her dark
eyes, Ione saw a movement from not far off, moving around the
gate of the stall closing it and locking the gate behind him,
and in the dim light, she saw, to her relief, that it was
Tristan. As he approached her, Ione moved a bit toward him as
well eager for the hawk to get back to Tristan if it indeed
was his. The poor thing cheeped weakly as the man drew
closer...

Tristan
 
“What happened?”


...Ione noticed the look in his eyes, and understood that he
was worried for the hawk. It was his! Ione's heart sank a bit
as she hated to see anything injured and helpless. Dark eyes
met the knight's briefly, then back down to the bundle as she
gently handed the hawk to Tristan, "I found her in the bushes
near the chapel..." Ione manuvered the injured bird into
Trsitan's hands, the cloak as well for it had stablized the
injured wing so that it'd not flop around and become more
injured. It needed attention, and she wanted to help in anyway
she could. Ione was a weaver, and as such had various strips
of cloth, but that was it. She brought her eyes back to look
at Tristan. She knew the knight was very quiet from the last
time they had met...

"I would like to help, Tristan..." Ione said softly. She had
found the bird, and was concerned for it's well being.









Adian

He slightly turned and looked up from where the sword leaned
against the wall, and saw the look on Tatiana's face. The same
mesmerized look that every other woman had gotten after being
in his company. Well, to be sure, he had given her the same
look during their bath...the look at Tatiana's body as the
water shimmered around it...the way the her breasts had
brushed up against his chest...the way his body had responded
to her though he had not taken her.... Adian could have
slapped himself silly with the naughty thoughts he was having
concerning his guest. It seemed like ages since he had felt a
woman's body moving under his....and it was getting tempting.
Adian swore to himself that he'd grieve for Thorn and his
child as they deserved, so he'd punish himself by looking and
not touching....

Tatiana
 
"Thanks, Adian. I really enjoyed that. You've got a good
voice, yourself. Is that another talent of yours that
you can add to your list?"


...Adian raised an eyebrow and turned fully to look at the
inquisitive woman, then shrugged, "I suppose....I always sang
better in the baths." He noted the teasing look in her eyes,
and returned a smile. Deep inside he felt restless as though
he was not quite sure what he should do, or what he wanted.
There was still carpentry work that needed to be done around
the fort, and some that he could easily work on right now.
Nothing like beating a nail with a hammer when frustrated...To
work with wood. Perhaps while Tatiana slept, and or moved her
things in, he could get some things done...

Maybe some time away from every thing would be what he
needed...

Tatiana
 
"Good. I'm glad, Adian"


"So am I," There was a pause, then. "I have to go out and get
some things done right now before it gets too late. I'll be
back soon. Nothing you can help me with really. I just need to
be alone. So why don't you get your things from the stables,
and just make yourself to home...unless you have duties in the
stables that need tended to...." He set the sword back down
and headed toward the door where his cloak hung. Slinging it
dramatically over his shoulders, Adian opened the door, and
stepped out, but had not closed the door yet in case Tatiana
wanted to say something further...
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