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| August 2008 | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Apr 12 2010, 09:09 PM (2,839 Views) | |
| golden_trillium | Apr 15 2010, 11:51 PM Post #61 |
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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...
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 | Apr 15 2010, 11:52 PM Post #62 |
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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…
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 | Apr 15 2010, 11:54 PM Post #63 |
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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.
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 --
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
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 ...
"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 | Apr 15 2010, 11:59 PM Post #64 |
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Author: golden_trillium Date: Sun Aug 10, 2008 5:41 pm Merlin
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
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.
"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 | Apr 16 2010, 12:00 AM Post #65 |
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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 | Apr 16 2010, 12:02 AM Post #66 |
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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.
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
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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| golden_trillium | Apr 16 2010, 12:03 AM Post #67 |
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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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| golden_trillium | Apr 16 2010, 12:04 AM Post #68 |
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Author: Kay Date: Mon Aug 11, 2008 1:18 pm Guinevere
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"
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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| golden_trillium | Apr 16 2010, 12:06 AM Post #69 |
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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.
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.
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.
“I will be fine,” Arthur interjected even as Neeve began to answer Darya’s concern.
“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.
“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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| golden_trillium | Apr 16 2010, 12:07 AM Post #70 |
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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.
"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.
"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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| golden_trillium | Apr 16 2010, 12:09 AM Post #71 |
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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.
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.
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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| golden_trillium | Apr 16 2010, 12:10 AM Post #72 |
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Author: Darya Date: Tue Aug 12, 2008 11:16 am Neeve and Darya
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…
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…
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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| golden_trillium | Apr 16 2010, 12:13 AM Post #73 |
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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
“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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| golden_trillium | Apr 16 2010, 12:14 AM Post #74 |
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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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| golden_trillium | Apr 16 2010, 12:17 AM Post #75 |
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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...
...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....
...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...
"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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