| Welcome to Na The Past. We hope you enjoy your visit. You're currently viewing our forum as a guest. This means you are limited to certain areas of the board and there are some features you can't use. If you join our community, you'll be able to access member-only sections, and use many member-only features such as customizing your profile, sending personal messages, and voting in polls. Registration is simple, fast, and completely free. Join our community! If you're already a member please log in to your account to access all of our features: |
| August 2008 | |
|---|---|
| Tweet Topic Started: Apr 12 2010, 09:09 PM (2,837 Views) | |
| golden_trillium | Apr 17 2010, 01:58 AM Post #91 |
![]()
|
Author: Darya Date: Thu Aug 14, 2008 12:12 pm Neeve and Darya There was so much sincerity in the Commander’s eyes…but the dark Sarmatian always had and still did dislike healers in general… And even though she was sure that her lover knew what he was doing, the idea of yet another person she did not know touching her for examination did not exactly please her. But she would obey…for Arthur’s sake…for the sake of the new life growing inside her womb…
Darya closed her eyes for a moment and took a deep breath…and she gave Arthur a nod while her grip on his shoulder loosened again. Letting her hand then brush lightly down his upper arm, the dark-haired stepped away from her lover and returned to the table where she took her mug again and drank some more tea. From the corner of her eyes, she watched Arthur and Neeve…silently trying to measure just how trustworthy the other woman really was…
The healer stopped her movements for a moment and met the Commander’s green gaze with her blue one for what seemed to be an age. So the Sarmatian woman was with child. Arthur’s child. Neeve licked her lips…but just when she wanted to say something, there was a knock at the door and three pairs of eyes shot towards the entrance to this room…
The Briton let her tongue run along her front teeth and quickly finished her work on the new bandages… Her blue gaze then flickered towards Darya, who had retreated towards the table again. The womens' gazes locked for a moment and Neeve not only sensed but also saw that the Sarmatian was not too happy about the last things that had been said. Well, she would just have a talk with her later…just the two of them. The healer picked up the bowl and the old bandages and stood. While doing so she looked at Arthur again and nodded at him. “I’ll do as you wish…”, she said firmly and handed the Roman his shirt, “…but please do me a favour as well and don’t ruin my work again. Rest…sleep…please?!” Neeve added a hint of an order to her voice again…knowing that probably wouldn’t have any effect on the Commander anyway…but he should at least know that she was very serious with what she was saying. And by the Gods, she had her reasons for it. Thus her gaze lingered a bit longer on the man than perhaps necessary…even while she began to pack the few items left… Meanwhile Darya had arranged what was left of the food Neeve had brought on a plate and shoved it towards Arthur. “You’ll need it to recover quickly…”, the Sarmatian said and gave her lover a wry smile, hoping that he indeed would eat the rest of the bread and the cheese once the Optio had left again. Then the dark-haired picked up her cloak and draped it about her slender shoulders. It was not necessary since she did not really plan to go out into the cold…but for some reason, being covered by the thick dark drapery made her feel…protected. Darya moved towards Arthur and stood by his side for a moment even though she knew it was time to leave for now. “We can do this…right?”, she asked him quietly, not specifying what exactly she was referring to for there were a few things laying on her mind that would fit her words… |
![]() |
|
| golden_trillium | Apr 17 2010, 02:00 AM Post #92 |
![]()
|
Author: lady ione Date: Thu Aug 14, 2008 5:05 pm Ione and Vanora It made her feel better that she had done someone a service: that of finding the hawk that was so precious to Tristan. Ione could not imagine the one without the other. It would have just looked odd.
Ione followed Tristan out of the tack room, and back toward the main stable doors. "It was...I mean, you are welcome Tristan. I am glad that she'll be okay," Ione returned the smile Tristan had given her...even if it had been a hint of one, it was enough for her. Ione passed through the door he held open for her, and then watched as Tristan did the same. Dark eyes watched his form disappear across the courtyard, and she wondered where he was going. It was no matter to her, for she had to get back to the Weaver's shop to finish her work...whether Mirtha was there or not. The young weaver made her way back to the shop, entered, and closed the door behind her thinking that Mirtha had gone... Meanwhile, Vanora had calmed Bors down after changing his bandage, when a knock came to the door. Kissing Bors once more, then leaving the bed, the red head went to the door, and opened it to see Tristan holding the hawk. "Tristan, Bors is awake. Won't you come in and sit by the fire a bit?" Cautiously, Vanora eyes the bird that seemed to have been injured, and looked up at Tristan questioningly. To be sure, Bors would enjoy the company. Vanora noted that the children were all eyeing the hawk, "Do not get close....it is resting." Gilly eyed the bird with interest, as well as the two other older children, but it was not so much the older ones Vanora was worried about but the smaller ones. They had not learned to be gentle yet, and Vanora did not want them hurting the bird. "Bors, You have company," She called to the lump in the bed. |
![]() |
|
| golden_trillium | Apr 17 2010, 02:01 AM Post #93 |
![]()
|
Author: golden_trillium Date: Thu Aug 14, 2008 7:06 pm Tristan
Tristan ducked his head under the lintel and stepped inside the little hut that Bors and Vanora shared with their children, shooting a couple of them a warning look when they began to look interested in the hawk. He didn't really want her mobbed right now- but fortunately, Vanora seemed to understand that. His head nearly brushing the ceiling beams of the close little structure, Tristan remained standing, the hawk held near his chest, perched on one arm, and cleared his throat awkwardly as Vanora prodded the blanket-covered Bors-shaped lump on the bed. "You have some meat scraps, maybe? She's hurt..." he gestured towards the hawk with a grimace, betraying worry in that expression, too. "...shouldn't be hunting." |
![]() |
|
| golden_trillium | Apr 17 2010, 02:02 AM Post #94 |
![]()
|
Author: lady ione Date: Fri Aug 15, 2008 8:13 am Vanora Hopefully the lump in bed would get motating soon as it was just not polite to sleep while company was here...if he was sleeping at all. Vanora turned back to the quiet knight who had entered the little abode. The red head had always thought it was just the right height for she, Bors and the bastards, but there were some like Tristan who were just a tad taller. For the most part, the children, especially the younger ones just stared at the bird from a safe distance as they had never seen one this close. Vanora nodded, and all of the children left to a small bedroom just off the main room. It was their bedtime anyway... She turned her attention briefly back to the knight as he held the bird close to his chest. What had happened to it, Vanora could not even guess, but there had been so much confusion during the recent woad attack, that it would not have surprised her that some of the animals and flow in the area had been injured somehow. The poor bird! War hurt everyone and everything, and what did it all solve? All it caused was pain and suffering...
...having given up trying to arouse the slumbering lump in the bed, figuring that it had been that they were still freshly gotten back from battle and had not slept much. Vanora turned at Tristan's question to face him and his injured hawk. "I have some meat left over from a stew we had for dinner...?" Sure it was meat, but it had been cooked and seasoned a tad, and Vanora did not want to give anything to the bird that'd upset it's stomach, or make it sick. Still it was meat, and the bird needed to eat. She went to a place where she kept some of the meat to be used for meals the next night. All Vanora basically knew was from the times she had seen Tristan feed the bird. Moving off, Vanora returned with some raw rabbit meat, and returned, "Will this be okay?" Vanora knew how to feed humans, but had little experience feeding birds and animals... |
![]() |
|
| golden_trillium | Apr 17 2010, 02:04 AM Post #95 |
![]()
|
Author: Eledhwen Date: Fri Aug 15, 2008 11:48 am Bors Bors was not in a good mood. The... whatever it was that the little witch in the infirmary had given him had worn off, and his leg hurt like fuck. When Vanora had come in to get escort him home he had felt fine, and had even thought that maybe he might be up for a bit of Vanora-luvvin, but as soon as he stood up off the bed he knew it wasn't to be. By the time his woman had half carried him back to their tiny hut he could hardly stand again, and then she had insisted on changing his bloody dressing! Honestly, if he didn't love her so much... He was just drifting off into an uneasy slumber when he heard a knock at the door. There was an immediate clammer of voices as the kids gathered to see who it was, and Vanora chivied Bors to wake. He groaned, frowned, licked dry lips and opened his eyes. Rolling over awkwardly he frowned again to see Tristan, complete with hawk, standing indecisively just inside the room. Bors struggled to sit, pushing himself back against the rough wall. "Tris," he greeted gruffly, and wiped his hand across his nose. "Awright?" Tristan was a man of few words, and the older knight knew he didn't appreciate people rattling on at him when there was no need. He would say what he had come to say in his own good time. |
![]() |
|
| golden_trillium | Apr 17 2010, 02:06 AM Post #96 |
![]()
|
Author: Pinkie Date: Fri Aug 15, 2008 1:18 pm Mari Mari's lips parted when Milan turned her over onto her back. She tipped her head back and shut her eyes, basking in the warmth of his lips against her skin. It felt so very real, but not at all scary like she thought it might be. Milan felt completely different to Mordred. He felt familiar to her to a point that the young woman thought she could predict his next moves. And yet when he acted in a way that surprised her, like when he pinned her hand softly to the blanket beneath her, Mari did not feel trapped or fearful. Her brown eyes opened and she looked down at what Milan looked at, his big blue eyes glancing down at the fair skin of her bosom. Mari bit the side of her lip and smiled sheepishly, unable to stop her chest from rising and falling in such a pronounced fashion, to prevent it from looking like it was about to spill over the top of her bodice!
"Nooo.." the young woman whispered, shutting her eyes a moment as she kissed the tips of Milan's questing fingers. She bit the tip of one of his fingers gently and smiled, her brown eyes sparkling when they opened, her gaze intense on Milan. "Don't be sorry. I don't understand it either. But it doesn't feel wrong." Mari admitted, skooching her body down a little lower so that she could kiss his lips again. She hitched one knee up, tucking her foot in under her other knee, sliding her hand down along Milan's side from ribs to hip. Breathing a laugh, Mari's head fell back down onto the blanket and she smiled at Milan, her bandaged hand drooped downwards, tiny fingertips twirling at the strands of his hair that flopped down over his forehead. Kolya Kolya wasn't sentimental. He was nothing even close to sentimental, but there was something nice about the feel of Alina when she collided against his chest, when her small hand reached up to clutch his tunic, holding to him for some reason he could not fathom. It was not like he was dependable or had ever given her a reason to think he was. Then why did she hold onto him? Was it because she raelly didnt want to be with Galahad but had convinced herself adamantly that she did want to be with him?
Her forehead against his chin was warm. Kolya dipped his head a little, the tip of his nose brushing against the line of her hair, his lips flat against her forehead. He listened to her words but shut his eyes until she pulled back a little and then looked down at her as if he had not been listening. "Bother me? Why would it bother me?" he asked with a wry smile and shrug of his shoulder. He pulled one arm out from around her waist and pushed her hair back off of her face, his brow furrowed and his blue eyes looking at her as if for the last time. Thoguh he didnt look sad - he looked... confident. "And you are anything but simple. There's alot going on in that head of yours isn't there? Considering there's no competition between him and me that is. Right?" he asked her in a husky tone of voice, leaning his body in a little closer to hers for no other reason than he liked the feel of her body against his. The closer the better. Eala Eala was unaware of Merlin being close. She had been so caught up in getting the fire and now watching what Juna was doing that she had missed his approach altogether. Even when he spoke she remained oblivious - it was only when Juna turned to look over her shoulder at their leader did Eala realise. Her big black eyes looked up to him and she froze, every muscle in her body poised and she didn't know why either. He stood above them serenely despite all that was going on. Eala didn't bother to read his lips, instead looking to Juna to see what she would say. It was easier to read the woman's lips for some reason...
The topic was alien to Eala who had not even really noticed Mona. At first she thought the bit about surviving was meant about Ash, but it was definitely 'she' and not 'he' so she didn't panic. Yet. Her wide black eyes looked down at the wound when Juna did and she leaned over it, peering at the gunky gash without repulsion. She glanced sideways at Merlin. He was just launching to his feet and Eala staggered backwards, falling onto her bottom as she looked wide eyed, baffled at their leaders outburst. She looked frantically at Ash and automatically sought contact with him with her hand, reaching out to his wrist as he shut his eyes in stark pain wihlst Juna sewed. The blonde looked over at Guinevere, frowning and wondering why Merlin seemed to be shouting at her. OF course Eala couldn't hear but from the stance of their leader and the look on guinevere's face there was definitely some rebuke being spoken. The little blonde's fingers were twisting around the leather bands on Ash's wrist idly as she watched the goings on. When she looked back down Ash was speaking to Juna. Eala made out something bout suffering enough today. The little blonde smirked and rocked sideways a little, leaning her shoulder up against Ash's. She smiled over at Juna and then gestured to the torch with a grunt, waving her fingers towards the forest wondering if Juna would like her to take the torch back and get rid of it. It was amazing how confident she was in the healer's abilities. She had just stitched up Ash and so Eala assumed that that was it - that he was well. In her opinion and experiences of matters regarding death, it only happened suddenly. If someone survived long enough to get stitched up by Juna then they would live. Ash was stitched so she was certain he would live. Amadeus
Amadeus shoved open the door immediately. It took him a moment for his eyes to adjust to the room's dim lighting. He lifted his chin, his narrow features shadowed on one side of his face, his hair hanging limp and long against his high cheekbones, a flush of color to his cheeks that might have been exertion if not coupled with the fiery light in his grey eyes. Two women were inside the Commander's room, and said Commander sat at the table barefoot and shirtless, the truth of his wounds plainly visible to Amadeus. Another time he might have felt a surge of happiness to see him so weakened, so damnably wounded - but right now he was too irate, too angry and he was determined for Arthur to be on his side in this. He had to be! Whatever his intentions had been going out there to speak with Merlin neither his own intentions or Arthur's had been made possible because of that imbecile, Barbattus. Darya was there - one of the women, not the healer. Amadeus registered that fact and tucked it away, watching her shove a plate of food towards him. He cocked his eyebrow and tensed his jaw. There was a dampness on his skin from coming from teh cold outside to the relative warmth inside and a smell of fresh air lingered on his cloak from riding hard back to Badon through the dewy forest. Nostrils flared and the Optio flexed his fingers into his palm. "Commander - I've come to report on the negotiations with the woad." he said tersely, obviously not wanting to speak about such matters in front of women. In truth all he wanted to do was sit down with a mug of warm wine and watch the fire for a while then maybe curl up in bed with a warm woman. Neither was likely to happen tonight. At least not for him. |
![]() |
|
| golden_trillium | Apr 17 2010, 02:24 PM Post #97 |
![]()
|
Author: golden_trillium Date: Fri Aug 15, 2008 2:21 pm Tristan
"Yeah." The taciturn scout shrugged affirmatively, letting that one word suffice as a reply to both Vanora's question about the meat and Bors' about his general condition. He reached out and took the meat that Vanora offered, holding the slimy raw stuff in his hand without a twitch or a second glance. The hawk on his other arm cheeped and extended her neck towards it eagerly, and he held it where she could reach it and start tearing strips from it. That would do for now- but once he got where he could sit down, he'd cut it up for her- make it easier yet. "You wanna..." Tristan eyed Bors questioningly and jerked his head towards the door of the hut in a small motion. He didn't particularly enjoy it here in the hut, truth be told- it was low-ceilinged and cramped and smelled of too many kids running around- it made him feel constrained and restricted, like a more benign version of the hut at the Woad camp. And he did want to tell Bors what had happened on the so called "negotiations". It wasn't often that Tristan got the urge to vent to his comrades in words- but right now he did. The story of the fiasco occasioned by Scipio and Barbattus- and fucking Merlin, of course- was hovering at the tip of his tongue, ready to get spilled frustratedly out. |
![]() |
|
| golden_trillium | Apr 17 2010, 02:25 PM Post #98 |
![]()
|
Author: Eledhwen Date: Fri Aug 15, 2008 3:02 pm Bors
Bors had heaved his bulk off the bed almost before Tristan had muttered his unintelligible request. It made the older man laugh to see how uncomfortable the scout always was inside four walls, however palacial, and this cramped hut, smelling of babies and dirty children, would be practically unbearable to him. In truth he wanted to get out himself. As much as he loved his little family, sometimes, especially after a mission, he felt suffocated by the sheer responsibility of it all. He nodded briefly - no need for more words than was strictly necessary between the two men. Bors knew it must sometimes frustrate Vanora, the way the knights seemed to communicate without words, the way they seemed to know one another inside out, but she never complained... well not much anyway. Heaving himself and his useless leg off the bed he put a little weight on it, and found he could actually stand now. He pursed his lips thoughtfully - maybe there was something in this healing nonsense after all... and limped to the door, dropping a brief kiss on his woman's flaming hair as he passed. "Back soon luv," he mumbled, unwilling to allow her to waylay him with scoldings of doing too much on his bad leg. Almost pushing Tristan out of the tiny room, too full now with two men in it, he pulled the door closed behind them both. "Wassup?" he asked as he continued to put distance between himself and his home. Glancing up he frowned as the bird on the scout's arm opened her beak at him, and he pulled back slightly. |
![]() |
|
| golden_trillium | Apr 17 2010, 02:26 PM Post #99 |
![]()
|
Author: golden_trillium Date: Fri Aug 15, 2008 5:34 pm Tristan
Tristan regarded Bors out of the corner of his eye, an eyebrow raised in half amusement as Bors gave the open-beaked hawk a rather wary look. She wouldn't hurt anybody...the corner of Tristan's mouth turned up slightly, and he shifted the piece of meat a little and stroked the bird's head again with a gentle finger. "The mission...they fucked it up," he muttered, using the exact same words to describe the situation that he had used to Jols earlier- but he could think of no better way to describe it. It had been a disaster- well and thoroughly fucked up. Blowing out a long sigh, he dropped unceremoniously onto a bench that stood in the shadows outside of the closed blacksmiths' workshop. The guard post across the way shed enough light that he could see what he was doing, and he carefully shifted the hawk to the bench beside him, clicking his tongue at her softly to encourage her to step off his arm, and then reaching down for the knife at his waist so that he could cut bites of meat off the most-of-a-rabbit Vanora had given to him. It might have been an odd sight- man and hawk sitting together there on the bench like two drinking companions, Tristan slicing and feeding the hawk while his eyes gazed off in the distance- but the scout didn't give that any thought. "Scipio and Barbattus got into a pissing contest, and then Merlin...well, that was it." Tristan rolled his eyes and slumped discontentedly against the wall behind him, his back rounded and his long legs stretched out before him. |
![]() |
|
| golden_trillium | Apr 17 2010, 02:28 PM Post #100 |
![]()
|
Author: lady ione Date: Fri Aug 15, 2008 9:17 pm Vanora
Vanora had arrived back in time to hear Bors respond to her prodding from a moment ago. " 'bout time ya awoke," Vanora addressed Bors while Tristan had taken the meat from her, and fed it to the injured bird.
Vanora looked from Bors to Tristan and back again wondering what it was that they needed to talk of. Had something gone wrong? Or was it just something knights needed to talk of...business of duties? She had gotten use to Bors being gone as there were always duties and things that needed to be talked of. Cautiously, the red head watched Bors' hulking form get out of bed worried that he'd put the wrong type of weight on his leg. He should have rested it, but whatever it was that Tristan needed to talk of, it had to be important. Vanora never got the hang of how all of the knights communicated without sometimes even saying a word, though she guessed that it was useful in battle to be able to do so. Vanora was amazed that Bors could now stand and place weight on his leg. No need to worry there. So she stood back and watched the two men as they prepared to leave, and Bors went over to her, placing a kiss in her hair. So much for a quiet night together... But then it was men's business.
"I'll look forward to it," Vanora said, and though she was ready to hold him back due to his leg, Vanora figured he could walk on it just fine, and what happened to it was Bors' business. Men, she had decided, were just stubborn when it came to being ill or injured. Nothing at all could keep them down. As the door shut behind Bors, Vanora was almost sad that she had not spoken with Tristan more as she rarely saw the knight except at times in the tavern... Well, it was early, but the day had seemed to be a long one, and she was very tired. She went into the children's room and kissed and tucked each one in, then closed the door behind her. Then, she set to feeding the twins, changing them and putting them down for the night... Vanora, herself, placed a woven night shirt on and crawled into bed. Staring at the ceiling, Vanora slowly fell asleep. Brendyn Everything was still as the last of the sun set behind the distant hills turning the sky a dark gray color. Brendyn looked out over the vast field, and left his eyes move toward the horizon alertly seeking out any odd movements, or signs of enemies. Visions of Veronica came to his mind and along with them the memories. Brendyn could not allow himself to be distracted, but somehow, the memories of the times they had shared brought him strength. He had always liked the wall as he got to both do his duty assigned to him, and take in the view as well. The land seemed to spread for miles and miles...not like Brittany. The countryside made him glad that he was stationed here. He turned his head slightly, to look east to west, allowing his eyes to look over the wall at the bottom of the wall. Never knew who might try to edge along there and sneak inside.... "Report, soldier." Brendyn replied, "All is quiet, sir." "Very good. Carry on." The officer in charge turned on his heels and left. In his mind, Brendyn wondered how all of his friends were doing: Gawain and his brother, Dagonet, Derfel...since he had lost all of his friends in battle, he considered these knights his friends. How was Arthur and the injured Dagonet? Okay perhaps he did worry a bit, but he could not bear to lose any more friends. He was a soldier trained by Rome, and he felt bound to those he fought with. Brendyn had not even really talked with his new Commander, Artorius Castus, if only for a moment when he had come to the man's camp to check on his injury. What had been the man's impression of him then, and he wondered what he had heard since arriving... |
![]() |
|
| golden_trillium | Apr 17 2010, 02:30 PM Post #101 |
![]()
|
Author: linnet Date: Fri Aug 15, 2008 10:10 pm Juna
Juna was ready for the explosion of anger. If Merlin had been expecting a diplomatic answer, or one with only facts and no opinion, he had asked the wrong person. Certainly he should have learned that by now. The healer responded to his outburst by continuing to do exactly what she had been doing - saving Ash. She kept her face turned toward her task, not letting Merlin see the slight smile of amusement she couldn’t suppress. But when his fury sent Eala falling backwards, Juna’s smile disappeared. She turned her head to send a glowering look to Merlin, almost like a protective mother animal warning away a threatening male. She quickly returned her attention to Ash, taking a deep breath, determined to finish tending him before confronting Merlin.
“It would seem so,” Juna replied, as she worked the threaded needle through Ash’s skin as gently as possible. “Mona is berserk. Guinevere acted out of control. And Connell never was quite all there, in my opinion.” She paused a moment from stitching to look directly at Ash. “I don’t think Merlin chose the right people to rescue Neeria. But he did well by Eala.” She gave the young man a quick smile. It, and her few words were Juna’s way of letting Ash know she understood how hard Eala’s rescue must have been, and how she appreciated what he had done and suffered.
Merlin’s voice behind her was still grouchy, as he gave terse orders. But at least he was taking Ash into consideration. The last stitch was in place and Juna reached for the knife in her bag to cut it off. Ash’s hand on her wrist surprised her, and she was afraid something unexpected was wrong with him.
Juna couldn’t hold back a little laugh, even though Ash seemed very serious. “I’ll do my best to make sure you don’t have to suffer any further. Part of what healers are for, you know,” she assured him with a conspiratorial smile. After the stitching was cut off, she took a clean length of material from her bag and expertly wrapped it around the young warrior’s midsection so that the wound and stitches would be protected. She could tell the medicines he had swallowed were affecting him, which was good. In spite of the drugs and the pain, Ash remained sitting. Eala huddled as close to him as she could, looking less worried now that Ash was stitched and bandaged. In answer to the little blonde’s question about the torch, Juna just shrugged, smiled, and said slowly for Eala to read, ”Do whatever you want.” The healer stood, stretching her back, shaking out her skirt, and tossing her hair back from her face. “I’ll be checking on you as we go,” she said to Ash. She left her bag on the ground and turned, finally, to locate Merlin in the flickering light of the scattered torches. He wasn’t far away, supervising the litter assembly brigade. She walked to his side, and spoke quietly – not caring if she was interrupting his overseeing. “If you’ve already determined what the answer to your question should be, don’t bother asking my advice. Because I will tell you exactly what I think, whether it’s what you want to hear or not,” she said. Her face was set seriously, her voice admonishing. Then she tilted her head slightly, looking directly into Merlin’s dark eyes. Her lips parted into a warm smile, and her eyes sparkled almost mischievously in the dim light. “Do you have any idea how sexy you are when you’re angry?” she leaned closer to him and asked very softly. |
![]() |
|
| golden_trillium | Apr 17 2010, 02:35 PM Post #102 |
![]()
|
Author: Eledhwen Date: Sat Aug 16, 2008 2:12 am Bors
Bors was NOT about to park his arse anywhere near that bird, so as Tristan encouraged her to jump down beside him onto the bench, Bors leaned heavily against the wall of the blacksmith's workshop, folding his arms across his broad chest. He smacked his lips thoughtfully as the brooding young man spoke, and scratched his stubbled chin. "Hmph!" he growled wordlessly at Tristan's description of the two Roman's petty squabbling. He had no patience with either of them at the best of times, or the Roman bastards in general for that matter. They were all a bunch of fucking wussy liars, however nice they pretended to be when they wanted something. For a moment Bors almost smiled at the thought of the Woad getting one over on the Romans - he had always sympathized with the native people of this land, they were similar to himself and his brothers in many ways, just wanting to defend what was theirs. He knew he would have to wring every last detail out of the scout if he really wanted to know what had gone on out there - Tristan wouldn't volunteer anything. Already Bors was surprised that the younger man wanted to talk about it at all, it wasn't his usual way. Something must have gone really wrong to make him want to confide in someone, and Bors was vaguely proud that it was him. The younger knights had always looked up to him for some reason, seen him as a bit of a father figure... as if he didn't have enough bloody kids of his own already! But he didn't really mind, although he was often at a loss as to offer any useful advise or answers to their many and varied problems. They'd have done far better going to Dag, but then, Dag didn't say much, he kept his thoughts to himself. Whereas Bors didn't know when to keep his mouth shut. "Go on then, what 'appened?" he grinned, then winced as he shifted his weight off his bad leg. "Tell me all the gory details, I wanna know the expression on them arrogant bastards' faces an' ev'ryfing." Bors didn't much care for the mission's success or otherwise. It wouldn't stop him getting fed or clothed, nor would it cause his woman and children to be cast out onto the streets. All Bors cared about was fighting, fucking and eating, and nothing the Roman bastards did really affected that much. |
![]() |
|
| golden_trillium | Apr 17 2010, 02:37 PM Post #103 |
![]()
|
Author: SarmatianKnight Date: Sat Aug 16, 2008 3:38 am Lucius Lucius raised an eyebrow about the burp. Not that he had not tried to act in such a masculine way in the past either but everytime he had tried the only thing he had gotten for it had been a good slap from his mother. She had hated it. The memory was half amusing and half depressing. Moments like this one made it obvious that Lucius had not been raised to end as a mere soldier somewhere in Britain between dirt and mud, poor people and wounded people, trapped between hope, weapons and death. Obviously Derfel had found a new friend. The Saxon and the barrell looked quite comfortable, sitting there together. Lucius smiled and put his own mug slightly away from him, putting it almost at the edge of the table.
Lucius nodded - and wondered if the long answer would have held the same information. "You were out there to fight against your own kind. How did it feel?" It was pure interest and the demand to learn new things from Lucius' side. There was no hint of judging Derfel at all. He had sworn the oath that all soldiers had to swear when they joined the army but it was no good feeling. What if he would break that oath one day? What if he had to? He could see Derfel's point of course because it was the same way how he saw things. He did not look to happy about the noble and honourable thing though, not commenting it any further. Capturing women - how noble indeed, even if these women were capable fighters. And not just that. Lucius was sure that Arthur knew exactly what happened down there in his dungeons. The soldier would have used another word than honourable at this point. It had nothing to do with Arthur. It was just wrong to treat any human like this, whatever his crime had been.
"Truely?" Lucius asked, wondering if Derfel believed what he said. An amused smile tugged at the young man's lips. No doubt Arthur was a great fighter but... "There will always be someone who will be better." Just a fact, at least Lucius was sure about it. "I have never seen him fighting though" he had to admit. |
![]() |
|
| golden_trillium | Apr 17 2010, 02:43 PM Post #104 |
![]()
|
Author: Elessars Girl Date: Sat Aug 16, 2008 8:46 am Arthur The Roman had said it out loud…carrying my child. Oh God. Arthur had been distracted by Neeve’s ministrations at his side, and thus for a few moments had allowed the astonishment of Darya’s news escape him. But it was back…that feeling of losing control over his own destiny…oh but Arthur had the perfect disposition for parenthood. He thought nothing of his own well being, but fought for the survival of everyone around him….and would raise and protect any child of his with a military precision that would have made even Julius Caesar proud.
“As you command,” Arthur answered rather dryly with an arched brow and then accepted his shirt from Neeve. However, his expression then gave way to a kind smile while the Commander also offered the healer a sincere nod in appreciation….for more than re-stitching his wound. And Darya, not to be out done by Neeve in the plot to make Arthur all better, shoved the remainder of the food in front of him with a smile on her lips. Yes but how much of the meal had she consumed? Arthur gave a questioning look to his lover as she spoke. At the same time, the door swept open to admit the Optio.
“Yes, love, we can,” Arthur quietly answered for Darya’s ears only before looking up to meet Amadeus Scipio’s determined gaze as the Optio entered his quarters. At last Arthur would have the news he’d been praying for all afternoon. However, at a quick assessment of the Optio’s flush expression….perhaps the news would not be exactly what Arthur had hoped for. The Commander’s thick brows drew together at noting the urgency? in Scipio’s eyes….and where was Malcus? Green eyes gave a more thorough examination of Scipio – the man appeared unharmed, clothes relatively clean and in order considering the Roman had obviously just come from the back of his horse. So Merlin had had the decency to at least not outright execute the men Arthur had sent in his stead. Promising.
Arthur stood up from his chair, albeit still rather stiff in his movements, and tugged on his black tunic before addressing Scipio. He could not suppress a small grunt of discomfort as his infected wound made itself known again as the Commander twisted to pull on the garment. No matter, Scipio had now been given full access to Arthur’s ‘wound’. “Ladies, please do excuse us,” Arthur spoke with a calm assuredness and without breaking eye contact with Scipio. Neeve and Darya would understand as this was an urgent matter and judging from Scipio’s body language, not to be discussed in the presence of women. He and Darya would continue their ‘discussion’ on her condition later. Arthur rested his left hand over his freshly mended wound while the other briefly raked through his unruly hair. He set his jaw, stood at his full height and once again wore the mask of a virile Roman Commander….despite his weariness and weakened physical state. And although he was impatient to hear Scipio’s report, Arthur’s expression clearly told his Optio to wait until the two women had exited the room before speaking. |
![]() |
|
| golden_trillium | Apr 17 2010, 02:44 PM Post #105 |
![]()
|
Author: Lancelot Date: Sat Aug 16, 2008 8:56 am Lancelot The Nun...and Gawain...and Eyla! Damn them all. Lancelot - not one to normally share his feelings, for some reason cared what the old crotchety woman thought of him. He'd said some things he shouldn't have to her, probably wouldn't have had the circumstances been different. But with Arthur injured, and perhaps not telling the first knight the whole story....he couldn't help his anger - and his indifference at who heard his truths. Exhausted and hungry and dirty, he whirled on his heel and took himself and his untreated unjuries and his pride out of the fucking infirmary - gods, he hated that place. He glanced back once at Gawain - the knight seemed to think by virtue of his comment that Lancelot would welch on his bet. Hmph. Maybe a bet with a Roman, most certainly any kind of bet with Arthur; not a fellow Sarmatian. Never. Lancelot might be a cad and fool in his own mind, but once his word was given - it was solid, and unbreakable. He had a few good traits - honesty, when it was called for, was unfortunately something his mother had drummed into him. He strode into the drying courtyard, his clothing still damp from the dousing he'd gotten from the two healers (that reminded him to have a chat to Neeve later), his good eye scanning for Eyla. Now where had that teasing, game playing hussy gotten to? Lancelot scowled and rubbed his hand over his wounded arm - had his brazen kiss in front of everyone actually scared her off? If that were the case - no matter her information on Arthur, Lancelot did not need to have to figure out a woman right now. Not in his present state of mind. A few soldiers passed him in the courtyard; he heard them discussing something about a missing prisoner - and then one of them mentioned the fact that the Optio had been seen returning. "His face - never seen that narrow nosed bastard look so angry!" The men laughed as they passed Lancelot, taking no notice of the Sarmatian who stood stock still and listened to their banter. What had Scipio done to make him appear as the soldier had said? Had he fucked the mission up? Growling, he turned in the direction of the quarters, his mind set to go to Arthur and see, once and for all, exactly what was going on. Nevermind that the Optio wanted Lancelot punished for his actions. The Optio could fuck himself, as far as Lancelot was concerned. If he was there...and if he tried anything... A rough laugh echoed out of Lancelot's mouth. He'd guess that the weather nowdays was as good as any for swinging by his neck from a rope. He took a step. And then hesitated. Just how would he feel if Arthur had been hiding the true nature of his injury? And did Lancelot even want to know, at this point? Was he in the right frame of mind to deal with yet more distrust, more disappointment, more Roman attitude and downtalk? Was he ready to be honest with Arthur himself? He sighed, biting his chapped lips, and raised a hand, touching his swollen eye. He cursed Galahad - but did not move from his place of uncertainty. |
![]() |
|
| Go to Next Page | |
| « Previous Topic · Vincit Omnia Veritas · Next Topic » |
| Theme: Zeta Original | Track Topic · E-mail Topic | 2:26 PM Jul 11 |







