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September 2008
Topic Started: Apr 22 2010, 01:55 PM (2,539 Views)
golden_trillium

Admin
Author: Lancelot
Date: Thu Sep 25, 2008 3:47 pm
Lancelot


When Arthur's eyes narrowed and then opened wide, Lancelot
cursed again silently and lowered the hand that had betrayed
him as it rubbed at the soreness that was his swollen lid. He
began to shake his head, but Arthur's fingers on his chin
arrested that motion.

Arthur
 
“Who hit you and why?”


Shit, shit shit! Damn and blast to Arthur's Hell that fucking
child Galahad and his problems! Damn Lancelot's ignoble
reasons for wanting to get involved! Damn Gawain for giving
him the notion that he as First Knight should want to care for
Galahad's well being! And damn Arthur as well for driving him
to this!

Catherine's pretty, innocent face filled his mind, and her
statement that had made him stop and think echoed 'round and
'round Lancelot's aching head. The statement that had forced
him from the warmth of a simple whore's bed - a place Lancelot
had desired to be - in order to placate himself and his
emotions by drowning them in someone else's scent.

He jerked his head out of Arthur's grasp. Lie like the bastard
you are, knight.

"I - no one hit me."

No lie. Just gaps in the timeline - and Galahad didn't hit me.
Technically, he elbowed me.

Techincally, I'm not lying to him.

He crossed his arms over his chilled body and sighed. "Your
report, commander - Dagonet is healing well, although it will
be some time before he is horse ready. Saorise is with him,
and trust me when I say no one will cross her path without
getting bitten. Bors' leg is injured, but not enough that he
can't get up out of the infirmary bed and high tail it to the
tavern, I'm certain. Gawain is also getting back to normal,"
he gritted his teeth, his mind's eye flashing angrily on the
blond's refusal to believe he wasn't more than the snotty ass
that some of the men thought him to be, "and Galahad...."

He stopped. He shook his head at last. "His stomach wound is
being helped by the nuns and that little Woad girl, the dark
haired one. Fiona? I'm sure he's a great fool for trusting
her, but by the gods, how is that anything new?"

He spat and made a dark sound; his throat had closed in his
anger and he slid his good eye shut for a moment. When he
opened it, his mask was fully in place - although he had to
grip his fingers together to stop the trembling.

He bit his lip as he stared at Arthur. "You didn't answer my
question. How is your own wound? I'd hate to think my
wonderous help was for naught."

He tried desperately to steer the conversation away from his
eye. Perhaps Arthur would be fully distracted by his report -
and perhaps the Optio would kiss Lancelot on the lips and
apologize for being a bastard. Yes.

He allowed himself a bit of respite - and reached out one
hand, and touched Arthur's forehead.

"No fever," he whispered. "That is...good."
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golden_trillium

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Author: golden_trillium
Date: Thu Sep 25, 2008 7:54 pm
Linnette


Vanora
 
"Aye, we did. Well, it is more than we had before. We
had begun running out of meat, since whoever was leaving
it mysteriously in the back of the tavern has not done
it for a while, and other much needed things like flour,
and friut...did we ever find out who did that kind deed?
Whoever it is deserves some thanks. They sure helped out
when we needed meat..."


“No one told you?” Linnette looked up at Vanora curiously, her
spoon still in the dish of porridge, her elbows propped on the
counter. She had thought she had told the tavern-keeper of her
findings…but that had been during all the confusion with the
sickness and the Woads and the saints knew what else. That had
been before she was a widow, when all her hopes had pinned on
Gedeon coming back. It seemed like a lifetime ago.

“It was Adian, the carpenter- he confessed to it while he was
sick with the fever. Linnesse told me.” Right before she had
fallen ill herself. Linnette dropped her eyes and poked at the
porridge again, then scooped up another bite. Yes, her
appetite did seem to be more or less normal today- a very good
thing. She didn’t want to deprive her child- all she had left
of her fallen man.

“Odd he felt it had to be such a secret, don’t you think?”
Linnette cocked her head musingly as she spoke, fixing her
eyes thoughtfully on the far wall of the tavern. She did
genuinely wonder that- though she was also taking up this
topic of conversation as an alternative to more personal ones.








Linnesse

Derfel
 
“Water would be grand, luv. I think I need to sleep this
off, luv…don’t worry…I’ll be fine in a bit…”


“Hmmm.” Linnesse gave Derfel an assessing, “healer” look as
she came into their bedroom, her lips pressed together as she
scanned him over. The sharp, acid smell of his vomit came
clearly to her nostrils from the chamberpot, but she very
professionally repressed any automatic reaction and crossed to
the dresser to pour some water instead- thank goodness one of
them had thought to bring some in yesterday. Maybe that had
been Linnette, now that she thought of it, and she made a
mental note to thank her sister for that next she saw her. In
the meantime, though, she readied a cup of water for Derfel,
handed that too him, throwing in a few solicitous pats of the
blankets into place for good measure, and then addressed
herself to cleaning up the mess- which, at least, was
confined.

“You must feel a bit better, after that,” she remarked with a
little ironic half-smile as she bent to pick up chamberpot in
one hand, water pitcher in the other, and carried them to the
window. Her nose did wrinkle a little now, but only, she
hoped, where Derfel couldn’t see it. A healer, she remembered
Mother Lavinia saying to her, had to take these things in
stride. It wasn’t pretty- but it was needed, useful work, and
it was, she had found, something she could do well.

“I agree some more rest would be best.” Checking to make sure
she wasn’t flinging it on anyone, she chucked the contents of
the chamberpot out into the gutter that ran alongside the
street, and washed it on its way with a good quantity of
water, then rinsed the pot itself. There- nothing left of it
at all. She ducked back inside, closing the shutter behind her, and set the pot back alongside the bed, where it would be accessible should Derfel need it again- though in her professional opinion, he probably wouldn’t. He wasn’t ill, really, and once what was bothering him had come up, he’d be all right. Thank God.

“I should go to the infirmary, see if I’m needed- but I’ll
come check on you again soon.” Linnesse bent over Derfel,
laying a hand over his forehead and pressing a kiss to his
cheek. No- no fever. Just some more rest and he’d be fine.

“Sleep well, love,” she concluded, blowing him another little
kiss from the doorway- and then putting on her cloak as she
left the apartment.



The infirmary was its usual self when she entered- soldiers
recovering from wounds, a few people still sleeping off the
last effects of the fever. Two of the nuns in the main room
greeted her cheerfully as she entered, glad to see her up and
about and well; she assured them that she was feeling much
better, and they in turn told her to take it easy today, not
to be on her feet too long just in case. Linnesse assured them
that she wouldn’t work too hard, and was turning from them to
head for the storeroom and hang up her cloak when she paused,
her eyes narrowed a bit at the sight of one of the infirmary’s
occupants.

Well, not occupant, really. Visitor, more like…but visiting
why? It was Drake Octavius, the trainer and Linnette’s
perpetual shadow nowadays, except now he wasn’t with Linnette-
he was over by the bed where Cassidy and Fleur, the two
motherless girls, rested. What was he doing here, anyway? What
did he want? Linnesse took some comfort in knowing that if
Drake was here, he wasn’t with Linnette, inveigling himself
into her good graces for unknown purposes, but his attention
to two unrelated young girls seemed scarcely more wholesome to
Linnesse. Frowning, she skirted around him, walking down the
other aisle with a row of beds in between her and the soldier-
but she kept glancing at him, suspiciously sidelong,
nonetheless. What she really wanted to do was to go up to him
and ask him what in the world he thought he was doing, both
with the two girls and with her sister- but just the memory of
his angry look of last night was enough to nearly turn her
knees to water. She was pretty sure she didn’t have the
courage to actually approach him- but she would keep an eye on
this nonetheless, and alert Mother Lavinia or one of the other
healers if there was anything untoward. Drake Octavius bore
careful watching, in Linnesse’s considered opinion.

She did not linger in the storeroom, only paused there just
long enough to hang up her cloak, and then returned to the
main room, intending to keep Drake in her sights as she went
about whatever else needed to be done- but something else
caught her eye. The door to one of the small private rooms at
the back of the infirmary was partially open, and though
Linnesse had not really been looking inside, but chance she
glanced that way and recognized the occupant of the bed
as…Ione.

Ione? She had been sad, but physically fine when she had left
Linnesse’s quarters last night! Worriedly, Linnesse paused in
the doorway, her hand on the frame as she leaned around it,
looking inside the room. It really was Ione lying there on the
bed, her face drawn and pained and exhausted, and at the foot
of the bed, one of the nuns appeared to be remonstrating with
a man- Linnesse recognized him as Mirtha, the stable manager-
trying to get him to leave. She had a hold of Mirtha’s arm,
like she was trying to pull him towards the doorway.

“Ione? What happened?” Linnesse addressed her question equally
to Ione and to the nun, wondering if perhaps Mirtha was part
of the problem. What business did men have bothering women in
the infirmary, anyway?
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golden_trillium

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Author: lady ione
Date: Thu Sep 25, 2008 10:58 pm
Ione


Having said her piece to the stable master, and told him what
was happening, the nun hoped that he'd have the good graces to
leave as there was really nothing anyone could do for the
woman except if he was a healer which he wasn't, but that Ione
seemed to be searching for comfort the way her hand grasped
his. As the nun studied Mirtha's eyes waiting for what she had
said to register, she turned as she heard someone stop by the
door. The nun looked from Ione to Mirtha, then to Linnesse who
was standing in the doorway. It had been a long night for the
weaver and herself, and now all the nun prayed for was for her
God to have His way in this matter and to give whoever tended
to her and the child wisdom and understanding.

Ione's dark eyes moved over to the doorway when Linnesse had
appeared, and the weaver was grateful to have the blond healer
here with her as well as the nun. Ione stretched out her left
hand toward Linnesse while the other went back to rubbing her
stomach. She was feeling drowsy again, but she spoke to
Linnesse softly while the nun watched from where she stood
next to Mirtha.

Linnesse
 
“Ione? What happened?”


'There were terrible pains...started last night when I
got...to the shop...tried to make it here...and fell in the
courtyard,' Ione's breath caught as a sharp pain shot across
her side. When it cleared, she continued. 'Titrus and
Quintus...they brought me here.' Her face screwed up in agony
and tears, 'I..am losing..my child...gods, Linnesse...please
help...' In truth, Ione had had cramps before, but nothing
like this. She felt as though someone was stabbing her. The
baby had not moved in a while.

Her pleading eyes looked at those gathered in the room....

The nun moved over to where Linnesse stood, and said softly
and aside, 'She has had severe labor pains since last night.
Only this morning they have been closer. Ione is exhausted and
stressed out.'

The nun looked over at the young woman who was moving as if
trying to rid herself of the pain she was obviously in.

Turning then to Mirtha, the nun asked, 'So do ye plan to stay
or are you leaving? if you are here for support, then you may
sit off to the side...' She looked at Linnesse and shrugged
not knowing why he was here in the first place except that he
was probably a friend of Ione's...
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: Kay
Date: Fri Sep 26, 2008 2:06 am
Guinevere


Even as she ran across to her father, Guinevere saw Mona being
pinned down and subdued by two of Merlin's men. The crazed
woman screamed out a string of threats.

Mona
 
May you burn in hottest pits of hell!! I'll kill you!
I'll kill all of you!!


Guinevere glanced at her father.

"Are you unharmed, Father?" she asked, seeing no blood on
Merlin's person.
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golden_trillium

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Author: Darya
Date: Fri Sep 26, 2008 9:24 am

Neeve and Darya


Fiona seemed to be honestly surprised by the news of there
being another Woad imprisoned…and it apparently had knocked
her for a loop. Neeve sighed. “Just…remember to stay low for
now”, the healer repeated and then walked off. She glanced
towards the skies…and figured that it was way too late to see
Darya, thus the Briton put this on her to-do-list for the next
day and headed directly for her room to get at least some
sleep…

However, it was not a good sleep that she got…and it was too
short anyway. But the events of the evening and the night of
the day before had kept her mind quite busy, especially since
Neeve did not know if or when Arthur planned to ride out and
she just had to see him in time. She would be a lousy healer
if she would not voice her concerns and doubts about his plan.
Of course with mostly his health in mind. Not to mention the
matter of Neeria, who had tried to kill the Commander and was
yet still alive. Something the raven-haired woman could not
really comprehend… But first things first…

The healer dragged herself out of her bed and granted herself
a quick wash at the wash-basin before changing clothes. Not
that people would notice that since her clothes pretty much
all looked more or less the same. But Neeve could not care
less. She liked her dark, tight, simple clothes…they were
practical and yet somewhat accentuating her female curves.
Though the latter was not really important to her, which was
probably still a reminder of her childhood when she had always
wanted to be a boy. Anyway, Neeve soon left her quarters again
and walked into the direction of Darya’s room…remembering the
other woman’s directions as she did so…


Darya had not slept too well. Lots of things were keeping her
mind busy and as so long as the Woad issues weren’t solved,
the Sarmatian was pretty sure it would not get better. She had
woken up at first dawn and wondered what the day would bring.
She wanted to take a bath soon…but not that early. The
dark-haired had left her bed and moved over towards the broad
window-sill, pouring herself a mug of water as she did so.
Then the woman settled down on the window-sill and glanced out
of the window…watching the sun rise slowly. But after a while
a knock at the door interrupted the silence in her room…

“Come…”, Darya said and turned her head to see who would enter
the room. When Neeve came in, the Sarmatian was briefly
disappointed, but remembered Arthur’s ‘order’ to the healer.
Well, the raven-haired was listening it seemed… “Good
morning”, Neeve greeted the other woman and gave her a nod
even though the healer was wondering why Darya was not in bed,
“…how are you feeling today?” “Morning…”, the Sarmatian
replied and watched the healer approach her slowly until the
Briton could lean casually against the wall by the window…just
opposite herself, “…I’m alright, thanks…” Neeve nodded
pensively, not surprised by the rather reserved reaction.
Darya had not appeared too happy about Arthur’s assignment to
her. “That’s…good…”, the healer murmured and watched the other
woman closely. “You are not really pleased about me checking
on you regularly f or a while now, are you?” Darya arched an
eyebrow at the healer. “No…well, yes and no…”, the Sarmatian
admitted and grimaced slightly. “Why don’t we take a walk, get
some fresh morning air…and talk about it?”, Neeve offered…and
was a bit surprised when – after a rather long moment of
silence and hesitation – the other woman indeed moved and got
off of the window-sill. “I wanted to go to the bath-house
anyway…”, Darya commented dryly and a corner of her mouth
twitched slightly as she pulled her cloak about her body and
indicated for Neeve to follow her…

Soon the two women strolled slowly down the corridors of the
building that held the knights' rooms…and then out into the
courtyard… It took Darya a bit…but then she started to confide
at least a bit into the healer by her side…and so the two
women exchanged their ideas of how they could approach the
Sarmatian’s new 'condition' in the next months…
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: lady ione
Date: Fri Sep 26, 2008 10:40 am
Vanora


Linnette
 
“No one told you?”


Vanora turned from putting the tankard on the shelf, and saw
Linnette's glance of curiosity. With a frown, Vanora wiped
down a mug she had picked up. ''Perhaps someone did...So many
things have happened of late that it is hard to keep up on the
news and such." What with the sudden woad attack, Thorn's
death, having to break the news to Adian that Thorn had died
in his absence (though she had always wondered where he had
been instead of being here at the fort)...She had wondered
what else could possibly happen. Well, with all of that, it
had been no wonder that maybe that piece of news had slipped a
bit. Giving Linnette a warm smile and shrugging, Vanora
continued, "Well, with all that has gone on here lately, I
could have just forgotten. No like me, ya know. I always like
to learn what is going on about the fort, and any little
pieces of gossip." The answer she got back was a familiar one,
and it could have been that someone had told her that same
thing. How the mystery solved itself was even more
interesting. Adian had been sick?

Linnette
 
“It was Adian, the carpenter- he confessed to it while
he was sick with the fever. Linnesse told me.” “Odd he
felt it had to be such a secret, don’t you think?”


Vanora's eyes were still on the young woman, the frown
returning, "You mean, he never disclosed why he wanted it to
be a secret? It is rather odd, but then most, I have found,
that do good deeds, do not want anyone else to know...sort of
like he did not want to draw attention to himself or gain fame
from the deed." The red head cocked her head to one side, the
frown mixed now with a raised eyebrow. Her father had told her
once that every man and woman had some secret to hide: some
pleasant and some not so pleasant. "I wonder," Vanora began
half to herself and half to Linnette. "Do you suppose he has
run into trouble in the past, and it is because of that that
he wishes not to be acknowledged?"

A wench approached the counter ordering two ales, and Vanora
nodded immediately taking two mugs from the shelf and filling
them. Thank the gods Ione and Nessan had left the recipe for
heather ale. Sure had been a saver during the shortage. The
brew was popular though now that the supplies had come in,
perhaps making some of the original recipe would be nice as
well. She handed the mugs to the girl who took them and walked
away to a far table. She gave Linnette a side glance and
noticed that the young woman had a distant look in her eyes.

"Coin for your thoughts, Linnette," Vanora smiled, though she
could only guess what Linnette was thinking of. They had been
friends for a while, and there was nothing like lending an ear
if one needed to speak...
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: Elessars Girl
Date: Fri Sep 26, 2008 11:23 am

Arthur


He allowed his hand to fall away from Lancelot when the knight
jerked out of his grasp; he returned it to cradle the jug of
wine at his thigh which had thankfully not fallen over. But
the Commander’s determination to learn how his lieutenant had
received a black eye would not be so easily brushed aside.

Lancelot
 
"I - no one hit me."


Arthur internally rolled his eyes, but industrially kept his
focus on Lancelot’s injured eye. He had caught the slight
hesitation in the other man’s voice and knew….without a
doubt….that Lancelot was deliberately concealing the truth.
And then the man had the audacity to change the subject.
Arthur was a patient man though, particularly when it came to
extracting information from one as stubborn as Lancelot….even
when it had been painful to wait for the Sarmatian to speak
his heart.

Lancelot
 
"Your report, commander - Dagonet is healing well, although it will be some time before he is horse ready.  I'm sure he's a great fool for trusting her, but by the gods, how is that anything new?"


The Commander listened intently while his lieutenant gave the
report on the knights. He lifted the jug and drank a fair
swallow of wine to wet his throat and only arched his brow at
the descriptive way Lancelot referred to Galahad. Arthur then
placed the jug on the table at his bedside once Lancelot had
completed his report. He sensed that Lancelot had censored
himself about something within the report though….but before
Arthur could prod his lieutenant further, Lancelot spoke again
and changed the subject matter:

Lancelot
 
"You didn't answer my question. How is your own wound?
I'd hate to think my wonderous help was for naught."


“It is improved,” Arthur said assertively, whether it was true
or not. He had no intention of allowing the wound to impede
him in his duty today at any rate. Arthur had given in to his
physical weaknesses long enough. Neeve’s ministrations last
night had seemed to go a long way in improving how Arthur felt
this morning.

Lancelot
 
"No fever, that is...good."


And now it was Arthur’s turn to pull away from Lancelot’s
touch. He frowned and leaned back against the pillows again;
not entirely sure how he should interpret Lancelot’s ‘concern’
over his well being right now. He needed to focus on more
important matters than his accursed hope that Lancelot felt
more…..move on, you fool. He does not and will never want what
I offer.

Arthur made a small discontented sound and twisted his mouth.
He went on to rub thick fingers across his lips and chose to
address the Optio and Lancelot’s supposed punishment
first…then Arthur would move on to what he had planned for the
day….and God help him, he still wished for Lancelot’s council
on the very personal and confusing matter of Darya’s delicate
condition.

“You will give me the details on how you came about such an
injury before the sun rises on this day,” Arthur said in a
tone that would brook no argument from Lancelot. But he would
give his lieutenant a short reprieve as he continued.
“However, I have other matters that I wish to discuss with
you,” He said evenly while meeting the gaze of Lancelot’s one
good eye.

“Lancelot, you may view Scipio as yet another arrogant officer
sent from Rome to cause you only grief here,” Arthur began to
address what he thought the easiest matter first. He brought a
hand to rest on Lancelot’s leather-clad kneecap for emphasis.
“I understand your mistrust….but I must urge you to refrain
from lashing out at him. He will do things my way whilst here
or he will suffer my wrath as his commanding officer. You, on
the other hand, must let me manage him,” Arthur said with a
firm squeeze at Lancelot’s knee before releasing a small sigh.
He licked at his lips and thought on Lancelot’s punishment for
a moment….and something came to Arthur that should fit the
offense the knight had ‘supposedly’ directed at Scipio.

“Perhaps I should turn you over my knee as retribution for
your imprudent behaviour towards the new Optio yesterday,”
Arthur commented without the slightest hint of amusement in
his eyes as he finally dispensed with his decision on the
matter. Of course Arthur had absolutely no intention of
treating Lancelot thusly. But perhaps suggesting something so
ridiculous would lighten the tension enough to allow Arthur to
introduce what was truly troubling him.
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: lady ione
Date: Fri Sep 26, 2008 1:26 pm
Brendyn


GOD above but it had been a long night...or so it seemed. To
Brendyn, the two good things were that nothing eventful had
happened like an attack, and now it was a new day despite the
iffy weather. He and the others who had been on watch marched
down the steps, and waited inspection as well as give a report
of the night's happenings. After being dismissed, Brendyn
walked toward the stables where he had promised himself he'd
look in on Tyranus, his black horse. reaching up, he
unfastened the strap under his helmet with one hand and lifted
it off of his head, then tucked it under his arm, while the
other hand still held his spear...

The Briton was almost to his destination, when he was stopped
by a messenger, 'Sir, a message for you.' The boy held out the
notice and Brendyn took it, unfolded it, then scanned the
contents. The squad room? He looked up from the note, and
smiled politely but with a hint of tiredness.

'Thank you, lad,' Brendyn nodded dismissing the boy. Brendyn
was hungry, but now all he had time for was to get into a
fresh clean uniform, and wash up a bit. He hurried off to do
those two things as he could not see standing in the presence
of whoever had requested this meeting looking like a slob.
This done, Brendyn grabbed his helmet and tucked it under his
arm before hurrying off in the direction of the squad room,
Brendyn headed off toward the place indicated in the message
wondering what all of this was about.


He pulled the clean cloak about his trim body to keep out the
cold as he approached the squad room. When he arrived at his
destination, Brendyn opened the door and stepped inside....
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: Lancelot
Date: Fri Sep 26, 2008 4:33 pm

Lancelot


Lancelot settled his hand back in his lap. It was good that
Arthur had no fever, however - that didn't necessarily mean
the other man's wound was on the mend. He'd have to check it
out for himself when Arthur got dressed - and if Neeve hadn't
shown up, he'd go round her up himself.

Arthur
 
“You will give me the details on how you came about such
an injury before the sun rises on this day. However, I
have other matters that I wish to discuss with you,”


Ah, thank Mithras. Lancelot would have more time to concoct a
better story than I got elbowed by an idiot baby knight. How's
your morning been? He cocked his head and gestured with a hand
grandly, waiting for the Roman to go on.

Arthur
 
“Lancelot, you may view Scipio as yet another arrogant
officer sent from Rome to cause you only grief here. I
understand your mistrust….but I must urge you to refrain
from lashing out at him. He will do things my way whilst
here or he will suffer my wrath as his commanding
officer. You, on the other hand, must let me manage
him,”


Lancelot's good eye followed Arthur's hand on his knee; the
touch was distracting and felt strange. But good - and
Lancelot cursed inwardly and tried to fold his leg so it
wouldn't be so close in Arthur's range. But the other man
seemed oblivious and kept meeting Lancelot's gaze intently as
he spoke...and Lancelot soon welcomed the touch that seemed as
natural as the smiles that had slowly been coming between them
again.

"He's not just an arrogant officer, Arthur," Lancelot spat,
and then, clearing his throat, sighed. "I haven't heard much,
but I judge by the way Scipio rode in last night like all the
hounds of the underworld were chasing him - I gather it did
not go so well? This from someone who considers himself the
'official' Rome-sanctioned Optio?" He shook his head, and
glanced to the window. Dawn was still hovering just below the
horizon - and he was already exhausted again. Maybe, just
maybe, he'd get a bath in today. That would be lovely - and
then he could turn his attention to Galahad and a little chat
they might be having later.

And then Arthur added to his comments - and Lancelot's mouth
dropped open, becoming gradually wider and more surprised.

Arthur
 
“Perhaps I should turn you over my knee as retribution
for your imprudent behaviour towards the new Optio
yesterday."


The Sarmatian's good eye seemed to be popping out of his face
as he stared at Arthur after the Roman had finished speaking.
Lancelot felt Arthur's hand - the thick digits still gripping
at Lancelot's leg, the heat from the commander's touch almost
burning through Lancelot's ridiculously old and too big
leathers like a brand had fallen there. His face heated as if
it wanted to match the redness that had to be showing on his
knee.

"You - what?" He managed to shut his mouth - gods forbid
Lancelot should appear befuddled or confused. He ignored the
flaming feel of his face and, sliding one of his free hands
under Arthur's fingers, he pried the other man's hand off his
knee and set it back on Arthur's own leg. He lingered - too
long, touching the strong hand that had gripped at him so many
times in anger and in passion - but forced himself to let go.

He pursed his lips and twisted the corner of his mouth up
wryly. "Arthur. Come come. I think corporal punishment of the
sexual kind went out with Caligula. Or is my Roman history
wrong?"

Keep it light. Don't let him see the thoughts -

I think you are afraid. But not of me.

His eye narrowed, and he barked a short laugh. "If that is
your true desire, then so be it. But wouldn't that seem a bit
strange in public?" He smiled broadly, the gesture looking
fake in his bruised face. He blew out a breath, and stared at
the Roman. "What must we do about this?"

And is that all you wanted to tell me?

He folded his lean legs over onto the bed, and sat
cross-legged, facing Arthur. All joking aside, Lancelot knew -
he fucking knew! - the damned Optio would want retribution.
Well - gods forbid Lancelot deny him a show.

Gods forbid Arthur not have what his official second wanted.

And yet - look at his eyes.

What does he really want from me?
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: golden_trillium
Date: Fri Sep 26, 2008 8:51 pm
Linnesse


Ione
 
”There were terrible pains...started last night when I
got...to the shop...tried to make it here...and fell in
the courtyard. Titrus and Quintus...they brought me
here. I…am losing…my child...Gods, Linnesse...please
help...”


nun
 
”She has had severe pains since last night. Only this
morning they have been closer. Ione is exhausted and
stressed out. So do ye plan to stay or are you leaving?
If you are here for support, then you may sit off to the
side...


“Oh, no!” Linnesse caught her breath and bit at her lower lip
worriedly. Losing the child? Already, so soon after she had
broken the news? Giving the stable master another wary,
suspicious look, Linnesse stepped inside the doorway and went
to Ione’s bedside, where she crouched down, bringing her more
to Ione’s level, and reached for the other woman’s hand.

“Is there anything I can do?” she looked back up at the nun,
who was re-engaged in her confrontation, if that was what it
was, with Mirtha. Well, medical considerations took precedence
over whatever reasons he had for being here- so Linnesse
didn’t have any qualms about interrupting and asking for
instructions. The nun didn’t appear to have any problem giving
them, either.

“I’ve got some tea brewing for her in the storeroom- the
brazier closest to the door. You can go check on it and pour
her a cup. Well?” The woman turned back to Mirtha on that last
word and lifted her chin belligerently, as if daring the man
to defy her instructions, as Linnesse squeezed Ione’s hand and
eased herself to her feet again, starting to move away from
the bed to go get the tea.













Linnette

Vanora
 
"You mean, he never disclosed why he wanted it to be a
secret? It is rather odd, but then most, I have found,
that do good deeds, do not want anyone else to
know...sort of like he did not want to draw attention to
himself or gain fame from the deed. I wonder, do you
suppose he has run into trouble in the past, and it is
because of that that he wishes not to be acknowledged?"


“Hmmm…maybe.” Linnette fell silent as a woman came to the
counter and ordered two ales, and Vanora served her. The other
woman’s explanation for Adian’s secrecy was as good as any,
she supposed- just a general disinclination to be noticed,
perhaps because of some past trouble. It might explain it.
Certainly nothing else did. Linnette scooped up more porridge
as the woman took her ales and left the counter, and the
silence between Linnette and Vanora stretched a little.

Vanora
 
"Coin for your thoughts, Linnette."


“What?” Linnette raised her head, wiping her mouth with the
back of her hand, taken a bit off guard by the question after
the silence. She had to replay Vanora’s voice in her head
before she really got the sense of it- and then her gaze
dropped again, her slightly confused expression melting into a
rueful half smile.

“I think you can guess what I’m thinking about,” she answered
in a low, matter-of-fact, but still sad voice. Gedeon, of
course- always Gedeon. Just now she had been remembering once
again how, when he had been sitting and eating, and she had
been working, he had always pulled her into his lap and told
her to sit down for a while. Sometimes she had sat, sometimes
she hadn’t at that moment- but she had usually ended up there
at the end of the evening, perched comfortably on his knee
while the tavern emptied and the time approached when they
would both go home to their own room. That, too, seemed like
ages ago. Linnette sighed, sticking her spoon into her
porridge and leaning both elbows on the counter now, gazing
across at the opposite wall without really seeing.
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: sabor ice
Date: Sat Sep 27, 2008 1:22 am

Cassidy & Fleur


Cassidy waited patiently, her slender digits all laced up by
strings, for Fleur to manage the next move in their intricate
game of cat's cradle. The little one understood the game's
concept - to an extent - but the moment the design got too
complicated, she seemed to lose interest and stop trying. The
older sister gave a subtle wiggle of her right middle finger
to hint to Fleur which crossed lines she needed to pinch first
in order to continue the pattern. "I know!" Fleur would croon
cheerfully, as if she had discovered these things on her own.
Cassidy would just shake her head, her lips forming a tight
line to stop herself from smiling knowingly. If allowing her
sister some leverage when it came to fair game play encouraged
the little sprite to concentrate and learn something from the
experience, she was happy to oblige.

Fleur gasped aloud and Cassidy's blue gaze snapped toward her
sister's face, her brow frowning. Fleur hadn't been hurt or
disappointed - on the contrary - the little girl's face was
positively ecstatic. Before she could crane her neck to glance
over her shoulder and see what had caught Fleur's eye, the
younger girl bounded with the reflexes of a feline from where
she sat on the bed, nearly bowling over Cassidy in the process
as she scrambled to get her feet on the floor. The two became
instantly entangled with the strings from their game; Fleur
got caught up and fumbled off of the bed head first with a
painful-sounding thud as she hit the flagstones below. Cassidy
managed to gather up the string into a messy ball and toss it
onto the nightstand, glancing down at her sister in concern
then. For some reason she had expected Fleur to burst into
tears, but the younger sister seemed to be on a mission and no
bump or bruise was set to stop her as she barely muttered an
'ow' and darted off again.

Cassidy frowned and arched a fine brow as she twisted her
lower body around and situated herself more appropriately at
the edge of the mattress, folding her hands in her lap as she
watched Fleur collide with another body. She clung to the
man's leg like her life depended on it and peered up at him
with a beaming smile. Oh, wonderful, the troll had returned
again like the plague, Cassidy thought to herself. Drake
possessed that single grave expression as he always did, and
she was beginning to wonder if he was ever happy, or if this
expression was his happy face. Fleur didn't seem to notice, or
care. For some reason unbeknownst to Cassidy, her sister was
utterly and completely infatuated with the man. The way Fleur
acted around him, it was as if she believed him to be the hero
of one of her many stories, but Cassidy remained wary and
unconvinced. What if Drake wasn't the hero, but the villain?

"Drake! You're back!" Fleur squealed excitedly. "I miss you.
Did ya miss me an' Sissy? We been good! Me 'specially. I got
to help 'vinia count stuff; she's a nice lady, I dunno why
people don' like her. An' see my new dress? An' Sissy got one,
too! Mine is green, see, an' Sissy's is puple. We got 'em from
this other nice lady who tells stories! An' last night 'afore'
we went asleep, Gabe telled us we can see his horse today.
He's comin' soon, I'm sure he is 'cause he promised,
y'know..."
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: Elessars Girl
Date: Sun Sep 28, 2008 9:58 am

Arthur


The dark shadows that were ever present in Lancelot’s angular
expression were not enough to hide the flush of anger? that
instantly stained at the Sarmatian’s typically pale cheeks the
moment the Commander had dispensed the terms of his so called
punishment. So Arthur had roused the other man’s full
attention at least. But it was not the reaction he had hoped
for; fully expecting an arrogant laugh and a sarcastic quip
for the ridiculous form of ‘punishment’.

Lancelot
 
"You - what?"


“You heard me,” Arthur answered in a low tone. The Roman’s
gaze did not shift from Lancelot’s face even though he felt
the Sarmatian’s fingers grasp his hand where it still lay on
Lancelot’s knee. Arthur allowed Lancelot his way as the knight
shifted his hand away from his kneecap. The simple and
lingering touch of their joined hands felt…..perhaps
acceptance passed between them. Strength certainly had and
Arthur knew that he needed more of that bond the moment
Lancelot’s fingers released his.

And then came the ‘Lancelot’ that Arthur had expected….the
knight’s steely mask was once again in place, much like the
one the Roman wore as well. The two men were a perfect match
in that sense too.

Lancelot
 
"Arthur. Come come. I think corporal punishment of the
sexual kind went out with Caligula. Or is my Roman
history wrong? If that is your true desire, then so be
it. But wouldn't that seem a bit strange in public?"


What I desire….as if….

A slow smile formed across Arthur’s dry lips as he continued
to watch Lancelot’s body language; any tension between them
had seemingly been swept away by the interjection of the dark
humor of the moment. Arthur’s shoulders relaxed and he bent
his left leg at the knee to subconsciously scratch at a random
place along the inseam of his linen trousers.

Lancelot
 
"What must we do about this?"


“We will do nothing in regards to your punishment as you are
about to give me your sworn oath that you will not show
aggression towards a superior officer again,” Arthur stated as
a matter of fact. “At least none that you can be held
accountable for,” He added with a small yet quick grin. “I owe
Scipio no explanation of your punishment other than it is
done,” Arthur’s gaze flickered from Lancelot’s good eye to the
swollen one, but gave no further thought to it for the moment.
He rubbed at his thigh as the muscle there seemed to ache this
morning. Probably nothing to do whatsoever with only having
rode from battle a few days ago. Arthur was not quite the
young spry soldier he once was and certainly should make more
time for the practice arena once he’d taken care of the most
pressing matters at hand.

“Scipio failed to negotiate a new peace treaty with Merlin. He
made a mistake that I now must reconcile if we are to have any
reprieve from the Woads’ attacks,” Arthur paused to release a
yawn and scrub a hand over his stubbly face. He needed a shave
and then to dress and get on with the day. But first things
first. Liquid green eyes softened for Lancelot before
delivering the Commander’s plan; knowing the First Knight was
likely to argue. And then there was Darya……Arthur needed both
Lancelot’s council and help now more than ever.

“I will go to Merlin myself. Today. And we shall have an end
to these attacks,” Arthur said firmly. “I will leave you in
command while the Optio attends me. And that brings me to
something else that I must ask of you, my friend,” Arthur’s
voice dipped into that lower tone he only used for those very
personal moments between them. The fingers of both hands
flexed in the soft linen material of his trousers and Arthur
sighed. Darya was pregnant with his child and he was about to
ask his closest companion and former ‘lover’ for help in
managing the matter…especially in Arthur’s absence…or in the
event that he should not return. What a mess Arthur had made
of his private life…..one that he had no right to have. His
servitude to God and to Rome should be the Commander’s only
focus. He was born to lead and born to fight for a cause worth
so much more than his own selfish heart.
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: lady ione
Date: Sun Sep 28, 2008 10:31 am
Vanora


Linnette
 
“Hmmm…maybe.”


Vanora contemplated all of this, as she continued to wipe down
the dishes. Finally, after a pause, she said, "Well, he is the
most mysterious soul I have ever seen at his fort. Keeps to
himself a lot, except where Thorn was concerned...never really
talked of his life much. Ione seemed to be sweet on him for a
while." As was her habit, she looked about for situations that
she considered news, such as gossip if it was true. Could very
well have been that the man in question had run into some sort
of trouble before he came to the fort, and had just felt it
nothing to talk about. Maybe later, if Adian showed, Vanora
would talk to him a bit and get to know him like she did all
of the rest of the customers.

It always helped to know who your cutomers were. "Last time I
saw him, broke the news to him about Thorn. Took it very hard
indeed, even having left his date at the table..." She cut the
conversation short. Enough about Adian as she figured
everything would come to light eventually. Her attention
turned back to Linnette who was, thankfully, eating something
which was more than she had seen her do the day before...

Linnette
 
“What?” “I think you can guess what I’m thinking about,”


Vanora sighed suddenly regretting that she had said such a
thing. What else would a newly widowed young woman be thinking
of? Setting the mug on the counter, and the towel next to it,
Vanora placed both hands on the table and looked down at the
surface before looking up at Linnette. Shaking her head, the
red-head spoke softly, apologetically, "Aye, I can, Linnette."
And she left it at that for there really was no reason to push
the subject further. Vanora had already told her that she'd
try to help her out in anyway possible. If the roles had been
revered, and Bors had died, Vanora was positive that Linnette
would do the same for her. It had to be hard to eat at a place
where so many memories had developed, and still lingered.

Leaving the converation at her reply, Vanora pointed her chin
briefly a Tristan who was still sitting quietly at the table
tending to his hawk. Raising her eyebrow in question, she
asked, "Do you know what happened to the hawk?" There was a
slight frown on her face, partly because it probably pained
Tristan to have his most prized possession injured, but also
to the fact that she had not seen Ione since the woad attack.
Vanora knew the weaver had returned to the fort, and rumor had
it that Javier, the Southerner, had not returned with her.
There was something not right about the young woman as she had
not come by since returning to eat much of anything except the
bowl of soup the night before....or so a wench had informed
her....

Woad attacks! Everything and everyone seemed so scattered and
sorted in the aftermath and it just left too many questions as
to how her cusomers were, how Arthur and the rest of the
knights were, and such....
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: golden_trillium
Date: Sun Sep 28, 2008 11:49 am
Linnette and Tristan


Vanora
 
"Aye, I can, Linnette. Do you know what happened to the
hawk?"


Linnette looked up from her porridge again, her eyes settling
this time on Tristan, still sitting by himself in his corner
of the relatively quiet tavern, solicitously feeding his bird
little, chopped up bits of meat. The scout seemed to realize
he was being watched and glanced up at the two women, a touch
of suspicion coloring his expression; Linnette flashed him a
nervous half-smile and looked away. His relative friendliness
of the other morning notwithstanding, he made her uneasy
sometimes- well, actually, most of the time. So she didn't
want him to think she was staring- for all she knew, he might
take offense.

"No." Linnette shook her head and once more returned to
scooping her porridge, scraping the last couple of bites out
of the bowl before she looked up again. The honey was
particularly delicious to her today- but there was more than
that on her mind.

"The child won't even know what he looked like," she exclaimed
in sudden, throat-choked frustration, pushing her empty bowl
and spoon away from her across the counter. That got right to
the heart of the matter- the question that had been obsessing
her quietly, unvoiced, ever since she had heard the terrible
news. How did one raise a child without a father? How did one
grow up, never knowing a father? Gedeon had at least had a few
childish memories of Dagonet's face, impressions at least- but
her child would not have even that. Not even that.
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: Pinkie
Date: Sun Sep 28, 2008 1:35 pm
Eala


Eala didn't intend to be a nuisance. She didn't give any
conscious thought or make any extra effort to be a pest - it
just came naturally to her. She was as bothersome and
cumbersome as a ten year old could be - except she had a
certain streak of vengeance in her that no other ten year old
in Britain ever had surely. All had fallen about her young
shoulders and this left her with little to hold or cling to in
an uncertain, torn existence. It was no existence for a ten
year old... to know the hurts and pains, both mental and
physical, that her life had thrown at her.

And yet as she sat before Ash she looked entirely bereft of
such worries and afflictions. It wasn't that she felt no
sadness or loss - it was simply a knowledge that the only way
to survive what she had been through was to smile on all that
smile.

When Ash made to stand, Eala tried to help him. He began
walking towards something but the little blonde was unaware of
any stir as she watched his face for any signs of discomfort.
She initially thought he had to piss - but his walking led
them towards Merlin's tent and a gathering. Only when Eala
realised there were more than herself and a handful of others
awake at such an early hour did she think to look beyond the
backs of those in front of her and see what was to be seen.

Ash's arm was out in front of her preventing her initial
reaction - which was to spring forward and defend Merlin. As
if he needed her to defend him ... but Eala had watched too
many people close to her suffer and then die for her to remain
imassive as someone she thought highly of, someone she
considered family of sorts, was harmed. Her hiss was vicious
and her little hands gripped Ash's restraining arm tightly.
Black eyes glared daggers at Mona - and one of her hands
slipped down to her waist where she didn't have her belt of
little knives any longer. Eala looked down abruptly at her
waist as that dawned on her and then scoffed irritably,
turning her black eyed glare at Mona.

Ducking beneath Ash's arm was harder than it should have been
given his weakened state but she managed it and darted forward
just as Mona was pressed to the gruond. The blonde stood in
the space between the watching woads and their leader with his
attacker being restrained. Pitch dark eyes looked from Merlin
to Mona and realising the situation to be sorted she slinked
back to Ash, standing in front of him, bumping her back
against his front as she folded her arms across her chest,
defiantly aligning herself with him and in whatever his
opinion on the matter might be.









Saoirse

It was like a bubble popping.

The atmosphere had been rather tense a moment before, their
heartbeats in unison, the anticaption of the next moment and
when Saoirse spoke it seemed to burst the atmosphere, allowing
all the little things in life to flood into their little space
and the red head knew it. She sighed, resigned to not being
able to share anything longer than that moemnt with her lover
until he was back in his own bed, in his own space and under
her watchful eye. What more could be done amongst all these
ill people?

Things were happening all around them but still they were
sheltered - secluded in their own little world.

Dagonet
 
"It hurts... But it had been worst yesterday. I think
it's better. I'd like to get from this bed today... only
to stretch my legs a little."


When he first told her that it hurts, Saoirse let her eyes
slide shut. She was beginning to wonder if he would ever not
be in pain. It seemed since she had come back to him that they
had spent an awful lot of time in infirmaries with his
injuries and she longed, desired and needed him to be well
again - for her own sanity as much as his. She knew that he
hated being in this helpless state -- but she also knew that
Rome was not a kind mistress. She knew that Rome would call on
her servant Dagonet too soon again and that Dagonet would be
helpless but to obey.

And what if next time he wasn't so lucky? What if next time he
didn't come back... like Gedeon?

The Irishwoman's morose thread of thought was sent scattered
to the breeze when Dagonet said he wanted to get up out of the
bed today. And all her worrying over him taking the right time
to get better, letting those capable to look after him and to
hopefully ensure as full a recover as possible before he had
to go out again and –

Her mouth gaped open and she sat up nex to the knight, looking
down at him with a spark of incredulous anger in her blue eyes
- a kindling of her old self as she was about to rip into him
for even suggesting it. But he quickly tacked on the big about
just stretching his legs.

Pretty blue eyes narrowed and her lips became pursed as she
stared at Dagonet, trying to see beneath the innocent face he
put forward.

She gave a soft harumph and nodded her head warily.

"Well s'long as it's just t'stretch yer legs an' not an
attempt t'make a getaway..." she grudgingly agreed.
With that decision made the red head turned from Dagonet and
threw her legs over the side of teh bed wary of the injury
that marked her hip to thigh. It wasn't really all that
painful today. Raking a hand back through her hair, Saoirse
hopped down onto her feet and turned back to the Sarmatian,
rubbing a hand back over the top of his head tenderly.

"I'm gonna go get us some breakfast fer now - somethin' decent
an' not the gruel ye get given in here. When I come back we'll
sit ye up an' then maybe take a stroll t'the baths if yer up
to it? Might as well make somethin' useful of yer leg
stretchin' if yer so intent on it..."









Drake

Drake wasn't used to many things in life. Happiness, for one.
Oh there were times in his life he was content - but to class
that feeling he had now and again as 'happiness' would be a
joke- and not a funny one either. The Spaniard was not used to
lying in in the morning. He was not used to long
conversations, at least not ones where he was expected to
talk.

Right now he was not used to giving a damn what other people
thought about him - and yet as he made his way down towards
the two girls and Linnesse entered not far behind him, Drake
became very, very aware of his movements and acutely conscious
of how he was being perceived. It wasn't that he aimed for her
approval - he would just rather not have her disapproval. And
for no other reason than to make life easier for Linnette.
Easier for Linnette would have been Drake just taking his nose
out of her business altogether but ... but he didn't want to.
He didn't want to lie awake at night wondering if she were ok,
if someone had threatened or insulted her or ... whatever
might befall a woman in a place like Badon Hill.

Nor was he used to being greeted the way Fleur greeted him.
The Spaniard stopped dead in his tracks as the little one came
flying down the corridor and collided with his leg, holding on
with all her might as she started to babble.. about ... well,
he wasn't entirely paying attention at first, but he soon
realised she would expect his input.

Drake was looking down at her with wide eyes and he quickly
looked around him, seeing what Linnesse's reaction was a
moment before looking at other people. Some were grinning,
some were too much in pain to notice -- and Cassidy,... well
she looked unimpressed as ever.

Fleur
 
"Drake! You're back!  I miss you. Did ya miss me an' Sissy? We been good! Me 'specially. I got to help 'vinia count stuff; she's a nice lady, I dunno why people don' like her. An' see my new dress? An' Sissy got one, too! Mine is green, see, an' Sissy's is puple. We got 'em from this other nice lady who tells stories! An' last night 'afore' we went asleep, Gabe telled us we can see his horse today. He's comin' soon, I'm sure he is 'cause he promised, y'know..."


The names and deeds all slid in one of Drake's ears and out
the other. He reached down to put a hand to Fleur's back,
intending on continuing onwards to the bed as she spoke but
she was like a limpet about his leg. Sighing, Drake gripped
her two upper arms and effortlessly lifted her up into his
arms and carried her to the bed. He stood her on the side of
it and placed his hands on his hips, looking at her squarely
as she told him about a lady and dresses and someone named
'Gabe'.

He let her babble a bit longer and finally lifted a finger to
request her to hush. That subtle request didn't work so he
physically placed his finger against her lips and raised his
eyebrows at her. Odd that both he and Cassidy were thinking
the same thing, wondering if he were good or bad for them...

With her quiet, Drake suddenly raelised he had nothing to say
to fill the silence. He shifted his feet awkwardly and frowned
towards Cassidy in thought - looking back to Fleur who was
pratically brimming with more stuff to tell him. The Spaniard
was always so reluctant to ask people anything, even to ask if
they were well, but it seemed there was little option in these
circumstances so he took a deep breath and looked squarely at
Cassidy.

"Who is Gabe?" he wondered of the woman who gifted the dresses
to them but wasn't too suspicous of that. From what he had
encountered of women in all his life he had yet to find one
who would not take pity on orphan girls like CAssidy and
Fleur.

And without thinking about how ridiculous it was, Drake looked
over his shoulder to make sure Linnesse wasn't still watching
him.

Ridiculous!
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