Welcome Guest [Log In] [Register]
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:

Username:   Password:
Add Reply
  • Pages:
  • 1
  • 6
  • 19
October 2008
Topic Started: May 1 2010, 05:17 PM (3,216 Views)
golden_trillium

Admin
Author: Starbelle
Date: Fri Oct 10, 2008 5:42 pm
Jols


Hearing the bootfalls on the stable floor, Jols, glad that
Karl was long gone, then turned his head to face Malcus when
his name was called.

Malcus
 
"Jols," "I will take Falco out for a ride once the
mission party leaves, then I will be spending the next
few days here in the stables....making sure things are
running smoothly. Where is the stable master? Do you
know? I need to discuss a few things with him."


"As you wish, sir. I took the liberty of brushing him down and
saddling him up for you. As far as just where Master Mirtha
is, I'm not exactly sure, but you could check out either the
tavern, infirmary, or wait until he shows up on his own from
where ever it is that he might be." The squire replied
polietly with a respectful nod towards the Captain.

Since Malcus didn't ask Jols the question too, he didn't reply
to the query even though he wanted to. Feeling Tyranus nuzzle
him slightly, the squire grinned and shivered at the sensation
then reached into his pocket and pulling out another sugar
cube, allowed the black to take it from the center of his
outstretched hand, making sure that his fingers were kept
straight.
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
golden_trillium

Admin
Author: Lancelot
Date: Fri Oct 10, 2008 5:54 pm
Lancelot


Lancelot's body still trembled minutely; he chilled easily,
despite his firey mood and temperament, but when he was
angered, or aroused, or confused or hurt....

Arthur
 
“Why do you do this? Why so angry? I gave all of myself
to you - to YOU. Yet you continued to construct a wall
around yourself, impenetrable…,”


Lancelot's eye followed the hand that grasped at his tunic,
over his fiercely beating heart. He was honestly surprised
that it was not audible; his blood pounded through his arms
and legs - he could feel his temples throbbing with every
thump it made.

And yet so broken and cold.

Why so angry? Is he that forgetful? Or did he not ever
understand me at all?

Arthur
 
“I blame myself for not giving you what you need….and I
cannot do this now. Neither of us is thinking clearly,”


Cannot do this? When could he? Perhaps never would have been
the right decision - Lancelot sighed roughly, the sound
reminiscent of a hundred angry bees that had been trapped
behind wrinkled and blurry glass. He flinched at the small
pain that rose when Arthur's thumb brushed his bruised skin;
the eye would look even worse in the next few days. But
perhaps he'd be able to see out of it at some point soon - and
then he could well and truly see Arthur and judge the mettle
of him. See his truths.

I gave all of myself to you - to YOU

"When can you do 'this,' Arthur? In a few days, if Merlin
doesn't send me back your head on a shield...or maybe later,
when you've got a new babe sitting on your lap and I
inconvenience you enough to dare to discuss what I thought I'd
lost?" He spat a dark curse in his native tongue and waited
until the other man had released him from the spell of his
touch on Lancelot's face. The knight's good eye still burned,
and he wiped at it, his fingers coming away wet. Gods damn me
for my stupidity. And yet, he let the sadness and confusion
that had filled him like tinder pour out in the form of angry,
bitter, painfully warm tears.

Arthur
 
“And I think this child that Darya carries will be my
own undoing. I do not deserve a child of my own and what
father would I be? I have my duty and I will most
assuredly meet my end on a battlefield…much as my father
did before me,”


The Roman turned his back on Lancelot and retrieved the
leathers that had been thrown uncerimoniously to the bed.
Lancelot's gaze did not linger on the pale flesh that Arthur
suddenly bared; rather, he saw a few scars that he did not
know on the other man's legs.

I barely know you at all anymore.

"Uther is long dead, Arthur," Lancelot's voice was pure
weariness; he slumped to one of the chairs that sat waiting by
the table and flung himself into it, wincing once as the arrow
wound in his arm flared briefly. "You choose your own fate, as
you so often tell me."

He shut his mouth, and did not add to what could have become a
tirade of impressive proportions. Arthur had successfully
turned the subject off what Lancelot had just been
discussing...openly, for the first time in months.

Rubbing at his swollen face, Lancelot shut his good eye and
held his head gently between his hands; his blood, still hot
and swarming, had created a headache of epic size and he
wanted to stop the flow of embarrassing tears before Arthur
could say anything. It had only been a few that had a fallen,
but he'd only cried once before in front of this man...and
that had lead down a road he wasn't sure he was ready to give
himself to again.

I cannot do this now.

A small groan slipped from the Sarmatian's mouth; hurt or fury
or pain or all three the cause. He wasn't sure, and in truth
he hadn't heard it. He scrubbed his hands through his dirty
hair roughly, hoping that some of his violent blood would flow
there and ease his headache. He opened his eye, and found his
swollen one was obeying the order to open as well, although
his vision on that side was blurry and watery. Triumph in one
thing, at least.

"I...what does she say about all this?" he asked, his tone
wooden. If Arthur didn't want to speak of Lancelot's feelings
- his life altering thoughts, by the gods - then he would keep
his heart guarded, as Arthur had accused him of doing. He
tried to gather the mental armour he wore about him, his long,
sturdy fingers scrambling for the pieces of glass that made it
up - but his mind only showed him broken bits of the shattered
glass that he had allowed to be destroyed only moments before.
His fingers - the ones only he could see - were bloody and
torn.

If I cannot reconstruct this shield...I am well and truly
lost. He will be able to see inside me forever.

Even if I cannot see into him. And I believe that would kill
me, finally.
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
golden_trillium

Admin
Author: Darya
Date: Sat Oct 11, 2008 5:43 am
Darya


Darya then heard more people approaching and recognized Titrus
and Captain Barbattus from the corner of her eyes. She
returned both mens’ greetings with a nod of her own and then
watched the lieutenant walk on towards his horse…

Malcus
 
"Trouble with one of my men, my lady? You're looking
radiant this morning. The sun pales in comparison to
your beauty; I will be sure to watch over you in
Arthur's absense."


With that, Malcus had her attention and the dark Sarmatian was
almost sure she was blushing slightly at the man’s
compliments. The woman cleared her throat. “Thank
you…Captain”, Darya replied and a corner of her mouth twitched
slightly. Since her night sleep had not been that great, she
had a hard time believing the Roman’s words…though it
certainly felt good to hear them. She knew the Captain was big
flirt…but his strategy was so very different from,
say…Lancelot’s.

“As for Karl…”, the dark-haired added and cast a glance into
the direction the old Roman had walked into, “…I guess he is
just his usual grumpy self. And it’s no secret that he’s not
too fond of my people, is it?”, now Darya smirked slightly and
shook her head, “However, I can deal with him…I think…” Then
she paused and gently patted the dark equine nose that was
once more searching for some sweets while listening to the
short conversation between the Captain and Jols. She hadn’t
seen Mirtha since the knights had returned from the battle
against the Saxons. Hopefully he was alright. Not that she’d
actually know the man very well…it was just a general concern.

Hmpf…probably what they call maternal instinct…which maybe was
some weird sort of protective instinct, the Sarmatian thought
and grimaced slightly for a moment. She was not sure if she
liked that idea…

Blinking a few times, Darya tilted her head a little and
looked at Malcus again. “And how are you this morning,
Captain?”, she asked the Roman, remembering the little
information she had gotten about yesterday’s mission in which
– as far as she knew – the Captain had been involved as well…









Neeve

Neeria
 
"Yes, I am called Neeria… I was sliced by a Roman's
sword, right before I killed him,"


Neeve cocked her head slightly when Neeria spoke and briefly
furrowed her brow at the other woman’s last, grimly spoken
words. She kept her expression neutral, yet she did not
approve the obvious satisfaction in the Woad’s voice at the
mention of having killed a Roman…or several…

And she almost ended the Commander’s life, too…

“I see…”, the healer just commented and took a closer look at
the injury, which Neeria had now exposed to her. The Briton’s
cool fingertips touched the skin about the cut very carefully.
The flesh felt hot. And some pus was clearly visible, too.
“It’s infected…”, Neeve explained and narrowed her eyes a
little as she did so. Due to the infection and the pus, she
could not stitch the wound…but she could clean it and apply
some herbs to it that should work against the infection and
maybe help the flesh to close by itself, too. Pondering which
herbs she had with her that could do the job, Neeve pensively
sucked her lower lip…

“There is not much I can do because of already advanced
infection…”, the raven-haired woman finally added and lifted
her crystal-blue gaze to meet Neeria’s dark one, “…but I will
clean the wound and I have a few herbs that – with a little
luck – should help with the infection…” Then Neeve took a
small clean cloth she had brought and soaked it with water
from the bucket. “This might not feel too nice now…”, she
warned before gently dubbing the cool wet material about and
over the cut wound at the Woad’s side…

Neeria
 
"What is your name? And where are you from?"


Again the healer’s eyes briefly shifted towards the prisoner’s
dirty face. She hated talking about herself…but doing so would
perhaps distract the other woman from the pain she was
certainly feeling. “I’m Neeve…”, the tall woman replied before
her focus was back on what her hand was doing, “…and I’m from
this island…just like you…” Neeve sniffed and pursed her lips
slightly as she finished cleaning the wound. “Can you sit up
and hold your tunic up as well? That would make it easier for
me to apply the salve and bandages…”, the Briton said and let
the now bloody and dirty cloth fall into the bucket before she
took the small bowl she had brought, “…I’m going to use
Ramsons and Beggar’s Button…okay?”
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
golden_trillium

Admin
Author: lady ione
Date: Sat Oct 11, 2008 10:23 am
Adian


As he threw his cloak about his shoulders once again, he stood
facing the door for a moment not looking at his room mate.
Tatiana had accepted his apology, but what woman wouldn't
considering the manner in which he had delivered it? The
innocent way she always gave into his touches and kisses.
Gods! If she knew what kind of man he really was, Adian highly
doubted that she would give herself to him so freely. A
serious thought crept into his mind that perhaps he was
punishing her, and using her because he had lost Thorn too
soon. Did he really love Tatiana, or was he playing her for a
fool? Gods, she was so seductive though....

Adian turned her and smiled as Tatiana spoke....and she spoke
a lot, sometimes leaving nothing to his imagination. Well, as
long as she was willing to be close and be a friend, Adian
really did not mind her being around. She was probably using
him as well after a fallout with some guy...women always did.

Tatiana
 
"Okay, Adian. Becareful up there on those buildings that
you work on and I'll see you later. When you get home
from work tonight, I'll treat you to something special
that I think you'll really enjoy a lot."


Adian raised an eyebrow, and walked to her, and looked down
into her green eyes, "I am always careful, my lady." He bent
over to place a soft kiss on her cold lips, then walked back
toward the door, and opened it. He treated her to a sly lusty
look and a wink, "I will look forward to your little surprise
with anticipation, Tati. Hopefully I can get away for
dinner....maybe we can meet in the tavern." With that, he
turned and headed out the door, closing it behind him.

Work waited. Lots of work. Adian guessed by the calculations
that it would take quite some time before it was all done....
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
golden_trillium

Admin
Author: Pinkie
Date: Sat Oct 11, 2008 12:26 pm
Saoirse


Tristan
 
"Good,"


It was good.

Saoirse glanced sideways at Tristan and nodded her head. She
did feel uncomfortable - perhaps if it were just him and her
she could blub out all that was wound up inside of her...
perhaps not though. There was no one that would understand her
silly feelings. No one as bizarrely inadequate with love like
her. Except, perhaps... Lancelot. The thought amused her and
Saoirse ended up ducking her head and coughing away a snort of
laughter as Vanora spoke and a boy came running to talk to
Tristan.

Vanora
 
"Well we got in some supplies, so it'd be whatever he
wished. How about some meat, eggs, fresh bread, and some
fruit? That'd fill him up, though if he had not had a
lot to eat in a few days, then perhaps something
lighter...I know he detests porridge...."


"Sounds good, Vanor..." she began, her accented voice trailing
off as she was distracted by the boy talking to Tristan and
also, now, the look in Linnette's eyes as she looked straight
at her lovers daughter-in-law.

The woman looked a little... well, Saoirse would have said
'unhinged' but it seemed an entirely too drastic a word for
someone as refined as Linnette.

Linnette
 
"Saoirse...you don't know anyone who can draw, do you?
Draw a good likeness? Around here?"


That was rather an odd question!

Saoirse's mouth hung open for a bit, her expression frozen as
she was about to dismiss the question entirely, answering
truthfully that no, she knew no-one, but it was just so odd.
Her head tilted to the side and her shoulders slumped, a
quizzical look coming over her as she shook her head,
breathing out a ragged breath.

Who did Linnette want a drawing of?

It was only when Saoirse posed the question to herself in her
head that she realised, with a blanching of her rosy cheeks
and a hollow look coming over her blue eyes. Her throat went
dry and she felt her muscles go lax, almost turning her to
jelly as she stared at Linnette for an age. In truth only a
handful of seconds passed and Saoirse looked like she was just
giving the question due regard before answering, hoarsely...

"No."

It was short but it was an answer. Saoirse swallowed to work
some moisture into her throat, looking down away from the eyes
of Linnette, feeling, once again, the gratitude that was so
unfair to feel because Saoirse was greatful that it was her
lover who had returned. Not that she wished ill on Linnette's
husband, Dagonet's son... not that, not ever! But she could
not deny that she was filled with a sickening amount of
gratitude to have this time with Dagonet, to make up to him as
best she could for hurting him in a way that Linnette would
never hurt the one she loved.

"No I don' know anyone tha' way skilled." Saoirse spoke,
frowning at the wooden bar beneath her folded arms. Her
troubled eyes lifted to Vanora, wishing the woman could
prepare food quicker so she could remove herself from the
reminder of what it was that the women of knights doomed
themselves too.

What good would a drawing do anyway? It would hold no warmth -
it would not bristle as your fingers touched the mark of beard
upon your loved ones cheek. There would only the scent of pen
or ink on the paper and not the scent of leather and horse and
sweat that was the aroma of men. And yet, Saoirse knew that if
she found herself where Linnete was now that she would want
something too. She would want to remember Dagonet's face
forever.
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
golden_trillium

Admin
Author: golden_trillium
Date: Sat Oct 11, 2008 1:34 pm

Tristan and Quintus


Having made his escape from the tavern and the discomfiting
company of three redheaded women, Tristan lost no time in
making his way back to his room in the knights' quarters and
gathering up his things. The hawk squawked in protest at his
now quicker movements, but he set her firmly aside while he
rounded everything up, and perched her back on his shoulder
while he carried everything in a rather haphazard fashion out
into the courtyard. In front of the stables, a sizeable group
was gathering- Tristan spotted Captain Barbattus chatting
easily with Darya, Jols wrangling the horses, Brendyn, looking
ready to go somewhere, that man Karl, looking also ready to go
but much more bad-tempered, and Centurion Quintus hurrying up
from the other . It looked like a rather extensive operation
was in the offing, whatever it was.

Tristan bent to set his bundled things down next to the stable
wall, intending to go in and get Tirgatao and bring him out-
but the querulous squeak of the hawk made him hesitate. What
was he going to do with her? With her wing broken, she could
scarcely come with him- and what if he didn't come back? Who
would chop meat and feed her then?

His lips pressed into a thin, worried line, Tristan abruptly
changed direction, from heading toward the stable doors to the
opposite direction, towards where Darya and Captain Barbattus
stood talking on the other side of stables' big doorway. As he
approache, he caught the tail end of what Darya was saying to
the other man.

Darya
 
"...I can deal with him…I think…and how are you this
morning, Captain?"


Deal with him? Tristan tensed at that. Deal with who? And why?
He would have to ask her about that- but first, the hawk.
Tristan sketched a salute to Barbattus as he edged closer to
Darya, not saying anything as yet, but clearly indicating that
he had something to talk about. A couple of dozen paces away,
Quintus set his own things down, took the reins of one of the
horses Jols had brought out, and called out a cheerful enough
greeting to Karl and Brendyn.

"Got everything you need, lads?" The Centurion's eyes lingered
on Karl with a bit of a warning in them, even now, before they
had even started to go anywhere. He still didn't think Karl
was a good choice for this mission, but since it seemd like
his going was non-negotiable with the Captain- Quintus was
going to do everything he damned well could to see that Karl
didn't put a toe out of line. Otherwise it would be on his
head, too, and the curfew he had already been assigned was all
the punishment Quintus wanted for one day, thank you very
much.








Linnette

Saoirse
 
"No. No, I don' know anyone tha' way skilled."


"Oh." It was all Linnette could say in answer; Saoirse's 'no',
even though it was only one person's reply, seemed to crush
her soul like a rock. Of course not- Linnette had been foolish
even to think there might be an artist in the fort, much less
someone who could take her memories, her mere descriptions,
and make an accurate likeness of Gedeon. She would never have
one! She had only her memories, and that was what she would
always have- well, until they faded. And what if they did?
Linnette liked to think that she remembered her parents
accurately, but it had been three years since her father and
almost ten since her mother- so who knew if her remembrances
were accurate? How fuzzy had they become around the edges?
What if one day, when she was old and gray-haired, she no
longer remembered what Gedeon looked like at all? What if it
didn't even take that long?

Linnette took a deep, panicky breath, her good hand gripping
the edge of the counter, her eyes darting wildly around the
tavern, as if she might find some solution there...but there
was none, only a sense of constriction- the very walls seemed
to be closing in on her. And Saoirse- she looked so very
uncomfortable, Linnette couldn't meet her eyes, could only
skirt around them like she had something to be ashamed of.
What if...what if...

"Excuse me," Linnette muttered hurriedly, ducking her head and
moving with rushed steps around the bar. She didn't even stop
for her cloak, but nearly ran, once she was out in the open,
past Saoirse, weaving through the tables and benches, all her
attention focused on the exit- she just couldn't stay here any
longer.
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
golden_trillium

Admin
Author: Pinkie
Date: Sat Oct 11, 2008 1:38 pm
Eala


It wasn't that she didn't care that Ash was embarrassed, Eala
just didn't consider that he might be. She was acting like the
child she was right now, hurting like a child and trying
desperately to come to terms with things with only her child's
perspective to go on. That and her muted view of the world. It
was hard but she could do it with a little help. Ash was that
help. Whether he willed it or not, he was the one that Eala
trusted and nothing would change that. Even her faith in
Merlin wavered that moment he slit Mona's throat, no matter
how momentarily that wavering had been - her faith in Ash
would not waver.

Her view of Merlin now was somewhat altered. She still
respected him - but where she had viewed him as an
all-knowing, enigmatic leader of men, she now saw a very real
and very strong human.

Somehow seeing him bring another woad's life to an end the way
he had made him more tangible to Eala. He feared the
destruction Mona would cause in her maddened state and so he
had killed her. Eala was now a little afraid of Merlin.

She was coaxed away from the bloody mess that was Mona by Ash.
She went willingly but not so much to reveal her face. Her
body still shivered with sobs even as Ash came to kneel before
her. The girl kept her face lowered and hershoulders shook
with sad little hitches of awkward breaths. Fingers too small
and too cold twisted together as Eala carefully avoided Ash's
gave until he prompted her to look up.

She did as she was bid, allowing him to tilt her tear stained
face and her reddened eyes to meet his. There was a tender
look to her eyes, a tragic weakness there as she tried to
focus on Ash's lips to understand the words of comfort he
offered.

Ash
 
“We’ll be home soon… you and I…we haven’t done so bad
together…have we now...?”


The small blonde took a moment to process the words, her eyes
drifting downwards to look at his bent knee. She sniffled and
shrugged her shoulder upwards. The motion and innocence of it
was only broken by the heart-wrenching image of tears pooling
on her jaw and then being shaken loose as another childish
hiccup of sorrow rattled her body. The girl's bottom lip
protruded and she looked towards Ash again.

He was right but ...

"Ehhh ahh!" she noisily tried to voice her thoughts to Ash,
tried to tell him what they had both just seen with their own
eyes and whilst she couldn't find fault with Merlin for doing
what he did, she still found it disconcerting. Her heart was
thundering and she gestured wildly towards where tehy had come
from before sinking onto her bottom in the middle of the
forest directly in front of Ash, almost sitting between his
knees, facing him. She sighed heavily and her breath rattled
from her lips awkwardly, but not as heavily burdened as a
moment ago.

Eala's expression when she next looked up at Ash was one of
immense uncertainty. Unsure of how close their bonds were,
unsure of why Mona had been killed, unsure why Merlin had
killed her - uncertain of her role in any of this. She looked
back at her knee jutting out from beneath the long tunic the
Romans had dressed her in and idly scratched at a scab on her
kneecap. She sighed again and looked back at Ash. Black eyes
narrowed.

Eala lifted her hand and pointed to Ash and then to herself,
indicating the two of them. She narrowed her eyes a little
more, questionning whether he meant what he said - about the
two of them being home. Did that mean she could go home with
him?
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
golden_trillium

Admin
Author: Elessars Girl
Date: Sat Oct 11, 2008 1:44 pm

Arthur


Lancelot
 
"When can you do 'this,' Arthur? In a few days, if
Merlin doesn't send me back your head on a shield...or
maybe later, when you've got a new babe sitting on your
lap and I inconvenience you enough to dare to discuss
what I thought I'd lost?.....Uther is long dead,
Arthur……You choose your own fate, as you so often tell
me."


When can I do this? When I am stronger and you are not able to
so easily hold sway over my heart.

But one point Lancelot made brought a cold prick to Arthur’s
skin - when you've got a new babe sitting on your lap. That
image was unfathomable yet to Arthur….a child….his child.

Arthur somehow ignored Lancelot’s further attempts at baiting
him while completing the task of lacing up his leathers. He
had to ignore the taunt, lest the Roman would never be able to
walk away. As Commander of this outpost, Arthur knew that he
must walk away from his personal affairs and do what was
required to ensure the safety of them all. And despite
Lancelot’s broken voice….despite the other man’s tears and
despite the steady searing pain in Arthur’s chest. In this
room…he could not avoid what was between them….in this room…he
would pray for hours trying to understand.

He turned from the bed to find Lancelot had taken up residence
in one of the chairs; his posture stiff and disheveled and
looking worse than he had in a very long time. Arthur found
himself closely regarding the other man for a moment while
still attempting to fully comprehend Lancelot’s anger and
tears. He heard the other man’s words echoing again in his
head - …dare to discuss what I thought I'd lost …and I would
die rather than do wrong to you....and yet - I wonder what it
will mean for me, in future.

Lancelot groaned and Arthur’s instinct was to go to the other
man as he had always done in the past. But that would lead
down a path that Arthur was certain would only bring more
pain…..I cannot do this now. And thus Arthur willed his own
emotional armour plating to slide back into place
again….protecting him for now. And he silently prayed that
Lancelot would do the same.

Lancelot
 
"I...what does she say about all this?"


“Very little….and I sense that Darya is as unsettled as I,”
Arthur answered albeit hesitantly. He occupied his hands by
tucking in his shirt while his gaze broke from Lancelot and
searched the room for his boots. Arthur padded over to the
dressing table that held his armour and toed on his boots
which also awaited him there.

“Lancelot, I must do what I can to salvage the failed meeting
with Merlin,” Arthur changed the subject again in hopes of
finding some middle ground for now. He picked up the first of
his polished metal shin guards and began to dress for his ride
as he continued.

“And when I return,” Arthur paused as he made use of the small
chair to prop up his foot and strap on his shin guard. His
wounded side twinged with the movement which forced him to
wince and suck in a breath. But he kept on with his work.

“We will talk,” He said firmly while shifting to strap on the
second shin guard. Arthur knew that he owed Lancelot that
much. The Roman was not one for avoidance, no matter how
painful…..and Lancelot was still the one person Arthur trusted
the most in this life. He had to face worse things than
Merlin’s wrath upon his return….becoming a father for
starters.
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
golden_trillium

Admin
Author: lady ione
Date: Sat Oct 11, 2008 5:24 pm
Brendyn


Brendyn continued to hold Tyranus's reins while stroking the
soft coat on the horse's neck. He was proud of the fact that
he had trained the arab mix himself and had saved it form a
sad end. Antonius saw no use for horses that could not be used
in battle. He was not surprised that Tyranus had taken so fast
to Darya and Jols and now, it seemed, to Captain Malcus when
the horse began to take in scents and smells that would
identify this man as one to be unafraid of...

Darya
 
“Thank you…Captain” “As for Karl…” “…I guess he is just
his usual grumpy self. And it’s no secret that he’s not
too fond of my people, is it?” “However, I can deal with
him…I think…”


Out of the coner of his eye, he caught sight of the knight,
Tristan, whom he had talked with very, very briefly on the
road to here. Not that the man had said much. The young
soldier almost added something in regard to what Darya had
said...like how rude Karl had been to the lovely Sarmatian,
but then, she was right, since he had been here, and even on
night watch, he had heard soldiers talk amongst themselves
about the Sarmatian knights. Brendyn could not understand why
they were so disliked as he had found nothing so far that
would gain disrespect to any of them. They had been taken from
their homeland and forced to serve Rome. He remained silent,
keeping his respect for the Sarmatians and Arthur to himself.
He had to hand it to the dark haired Sarmatian, She handled
the encounter very well. Brendyn imagined that if it had been
he, he'd have all off and decked the impertinant man, but,
being a soldier, he'd have been severe;y reprimanded he
figured...

Darya
 
“And how are you this morning, Captain?”


While Tyranus was getting a good pampering from Darya,
Brendyn's eyes fell with admiration on the hawk which rested
on Tristan's shoulder. Fine looking bird, though it seemed to
be injured. Keen eyes followed the scout's every footstep to
where his horse no doubt awaited him, but a screech from the
injured hawk brought the knight back to where Darya stood
talking with the Captain, and stopped. There was something of
a salute to Malcus, then Tristan turned his attention to Darya
as if to speak with her. Taking his eyes respectfully from the
conversation about to take place, Brendyn said something
softly to his horse in his native language....

Quintus
 
"Got everything you need, lads?"


Tyranus's ears perked forward at the sound of Quintus's cheery
voice, and turned his head to regard the human from which the
new voice issued. Brendyn smiled at the cheery voice, "I have
everything I need, sir, and my horse is prepared as well."
Even then he made a mental list of all that he had packed:
Dagger. sword, lance, extra clothing just in case, a small
amount of medical supplied, and some food that Jols had been
kind enough to pack. Yes, he had everything he needed. Brendyn
considered this an important test for he and his horse, and
his number one duty on this mission was to see that Arthur and
the others were protected at all costs....
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
golden_trillium

Admin
Author: Lancelot
Date: Sat Oct 11, 2008 5:53 pm
Lancelot


The Sarmatian scrubbed his hands through his hair once more,
and the small groan he'd let escape seemed to echo in his
ears. He wiped at his eyes, wincing at the pain that still
radiated from the bruised one; although, when he opened and
closed it a few times, it still obeyed him. His sight wasn't
perfect - far from it, but he could now see Arthur and his
surroundings with two eyes versus one blurred, pained,
overtaxed and strained one.

He wasn't sure if he preferred that or not.

Arthur was good at manipulating Lancelot's emotions; one
weakness that the knight absolutely hated and yet could not
ignore. He tracked the Roman with his gaze - rubbing at the
newly working eye with his dirty fingers that were not
physically torn or bloody. And yet he could not find the
strength to fully raise his mental armour about him - and by
Hadrian's balls, that hurt. It cut to the bone - raw, as he'd
said a moment ago, so elegantly descriptive and yet so easy
for Arthur - his friend - to ignore. Lancelot shook his head
and stood weakly, adjusting his sword belt so it was tighter
and the untested weapon hung more comfortably against his leg.
He crossed to Arthur's washstand as the Roman continued to
dress, and picking up a clean piece of linen, wiped the
remnants of the tears of embarrassment and hurt off his face.
He dunked the cloth in water and did it again, pushing hard on
his bruised skin to wake up, fool and to try and bring himself
to a state of -

You continued to construct a wall around yourself,
Impenetrable.

Penetrate was the key word there. Arthur chose to hold his
heart and love in high regard, not allowing Lancelot to breach
his own walls. Or had it been the other way 'round? Had
Lancelot been the one to close himself off, to possess the
Roman mentally and physically, his only way of knowing things
ripping Arthur's loyalty and closeness from him?

Arthur
 
“Very little….and I sense that Darya is as unsettled as
I. Lancelot, I must do what I can to salvage the failed
meeting with Merlin. And when I return, we will talk."


"Hrm," Lancelot answered noncommitally. He wasn't sure what he
believed now. He wasn't sure he should have opened his mouth
at all.

I am raw, broken before you

The room seemed to strangely vibrate with their previously
spoken words, as if the truth and pain of them could not pass
into memory. Lancelot felt exhausted and vaguely hungry still,
and yet, he could only see Arthur's narrowed eyes when the
other man had asked him if the child Darya was carrying could
possibly be his. He wiped his face with the cloth again and
then once more, the cut on his cheek from either the scrap
with Galahad or the battle opening and bleeding freshly,
although sluggishly. He was suddenly ill at ease - not like he
had felt comfortable before - and found himself watching
Arthur as he completed his task of dressing. He stared at the
large, calloused hands, and remembered what they had felt like
on his skin, hot - always hot and dry, grasping, wanting.

He dropped the linen on the floor and tilted his head back,
staring at the ceiling as if he expected to see his
accusations floating there.

"If you do not return within the span of two days," he said,
and finally looked at Arthur again. "I will find Merlin."

He left the rest unsaid. One way or another - maybe not this
season, maybe not next season either - he and the magician
would have it done. And if Merlin took Arthur from him before
they'd had a chance to settle their own truths -

"Do not worry about your woman. I will do as I say. On that
you have my word, commander."
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
golden_trillium

Admin
Author: lady ione
Date: Sat Oct 11, 2008 6:16 pm
Vanora


Well, it was great to hear that Dagonet would survive his
wounds. Vanora missed seeing the tall knight in the tavern all
the time talking with Bors, although Bors usually did most of
the talking. It had been a long time since she had seen all of
the knights gathered here in the tavern to tease, and or talk
with the Romans. How long had it been since everyone had
gathered to have a good talk, laugh and drink? Talking with
Saoirse brought back fond memories as it seemed that everytime
she was around, things just seemed livelier to her. Vanora
kind of glanced over at Linnette whom she felt that she had
upset in the worst way though she had tried to help, then
turned to Saoirse as the Heibernian spoke....

Saoirse
 
"Sounds good, Vanor..."


Vanora nodded to a nearby wench who approached the group, "Can
you go and prepare a good sized meal for Saoirse to take back
to Dagonet?"

"The wench eyed the other red head, then back to Vanora, "I'll
be back shortly, miss." With that the wench disappeared into
the kitchen. Vanora returned her attention to the boy who was
talking to Tristan, as well as the sad look on Linnette's
face. Usually, Linnette seemed so composed and in control of
her emotions, but the emotional strain of losing her husband
was beginning to show, though she tried to hide it...

Linnette
 
"Saoirse...you don't know anyone who can draw, do you?
Draw a good likeness? Around here?"


Vanora frowned, but it was a question she had wondered about
as well. She had heard that the Roman's were very skilled in
art as well as fighting. She had heard soldiers from Rome talk
of things called frescos painted on the walls of palaces, and
statues carved in rememberance of a dead hero. To Vanora, all
were heros in their own right, but she supposed that Rome
would never consider wasting such talent on the brave
Sarmatians. Vanora turned her brown eyes to Saoirse slightly
and waited for an answer while she took some dirty dishes form
another wench...

Saoirse
 
"No." "No I don' know anyone tha' way skilled."


Vanora could hear in the other red head's voice that she was
trying to help as well, but it seemed that they both had not
done a good job of it. Vanora returned Saoirse's glance and
gave a slight smile, and shortly the wench reappeared with a
neatly packed bundle of food for the hungry knight, or at
least Vanora assumed that he was hungry as no one had really
come for food for him until now. The wench handed the packed
food to the young woman and said, "I had packed three eggs
scrambled, bread, some dried meat and some fruit and cheese."
With a smile, the wench went off to wait on some customers
nearby. With a sigh, Vanora turned to see Linnette's reaction,
and the emotions that crossed the face tore at Vanora. All
attempts to help Linnette had done no good. At Saoirse's 'no',
Vanora guessed that the only other thing, the best one, were
the memories. It seemed, suddenly, that Linnette became
panicked, her eyes moving about the room frantically as if
looking for answers that were not to be found....

Linnette
 
"Excuse me,"


Before Vanora knew what to do, Linnette bolted from the tavern
leaving her cloak behind. Damn it! What else could possibly
happen this week....first Woads, then sorrows. Sadly, Vanora
turned her head to look at Saorise, "looks like it'll take a
miracle of her God to set things to right for her....Poor
thing." Vanora had always tried to give the best possible
advice, but sometimes, like now, it fell short, and left her
speechless.

"Well, give my best to Dagonet, dear," she said with a sigh.
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
golden_trillium

Admin
Author: golden_trillium
Date: Sat Oct 11, 2008 6:32 pm
Linnette


Once she was outside, the cold hit her suddenly.

She hadn't thought a bit about the temperature outside, in her
hurry to get out of the tavern and out of Saoirse and Vanora's
happily-partnered-yet-pitying presences, but once she was
outdoors, and without her cloak, the wind, for all the fact
that it was not particularly strong today, bit through her
dress and underclothing, seeming to go straight for her skin.
But she never thought to go back- at least not now. Drawing
her arms in and hugging her shoulders as a way of holding in
some warmth, Linnette set off on an aimless walk around the
courtyard, not having any particular destination in mind, but
feeling sure that she ought to have a destination.

A group of people seemed to be assembling over by the stables.
Horses, weapons, and armor were in evidence, and as Linnette
watched, a Centurion, his red cloak fluttering behind him,
joined the group from the direction of the barracks, while
from the other direction, from the knights' quarters, the
taller, thinner, and rather more sullen-looking figure of
Tristan arrived, apparently having fetched his things very
quickly since leaving the tavern. The wounded bird on his
shoulder sqauwked in protest as he bent to set some of his
things down. Linnette, arms still drawn around her, wandered
closer to the group, curious, and thinking vividly of the day
when she had said goodbye to Gedeon in similar circumstances,
not knowing it would be the last time. He had leaned over to
kiss her from his horse, tilting himself so far sideways that
she had thought he might fall, but he, for himself, had been
perfectly balanced. Sarmatians could do that sort of thing.
Linnette sighed, reminiscently and frustratedly, and blinked
back dampness from her eyes. How long would she remember that
little incident? Were memories really forever?

There was someone else, too, a girl, sitting on a bench not
too far away, just under the eaves of the stables, but apart
from the main group. She was dark-haired, slight-looking, and
alone, and she had something in her lap- something which she
made motions over, like she was writing. That was unusual.
Linnette drew closer, now recognizing the girl as Mari, the
rape victim from several days ago, whom she had seen brought
into the infirmary but not had the opportunity or the reason
to speak to, though a great part of her had wanted to offer
comfort. And the thing in her lap was...Linnette's heart
fairly leapt into her mouth as she realized that what Mari was
doing was not writing...but...

"Are you drawing?" Linnette blurted, rushing over to Mari and
practically throwing herself onto the bench beside her,
peering over the girl's shoulder to see what was on her paper-
if it was indeed what she thought it might be.
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
golden_trillium

Admin
Author: LadyCastus
Date: Sat Oct 11, 2008 10:21 pm

Malcus Barbattus, Titrus and Karl


Darya
 
“Thank you, Captain...As for Karl...I guess he is just
his usual grumpy self. And it’s no secret that he’s not
too fond of my people, is it? I can deal with him…I
think…And how are you this morning, Captain?


"Now that I have seen the sunlight sparkle in your eyes, I am
wonderful," Malcus said, softly clicking his heels, "today is
sure to be most pleasant. As for Karl, the sun never shines
for him. Don't take it personally though, my lady, he doesn't
like anyone," Malcus chuckled slightly, locking eyes with the
dark beauty. Then the captain became very serious.

"But if he ever disrespects you or frightens you, I will beat
him within an inch of his life. You have only to find me."

Malcus looked at Darya for a moment, searching her face for
any tell tale sign of fear. When he was satisfied there was
none, apparently what she said was true that she was not
frightened, the captain softened his demeanor again.

Jols
 
"I took the liberty of brushing him down and saddling
him up for you. As far as just where Master Mirtha is,
I'm not exactly sure, but you could check out either the
tavern, infirmary, or wait until he shows up on his own
from where ever it is that he might be."


Malcus knitted his eyebrows and nodded his head. Where the
hell was the stable master on the morning of such an important
mission?

"Jols, what would we do without you, eh? Let us hope that we
never have to find out! I'll take Falco out as soon as they
leave."

With that, the captain gave the squire a hearty slap on the
back, just as Brendyn's mount nuzzled up against the captain's
rib. Malcus turned to the war horse and rubbed his velvet soft
nose.

"Okay, okay, good morning," Barbattus said, reaching inside
his tunic and pulling out a treat. "Here you are."

"Good morning, Brendyn," Malcus said, "That's a fine animal,"
he added while stroking the horses neck.

Just then Quintus and Tristan entered the stable. The scout,
as quiet and stoic as ever saluted, which Malcus returned.
Quintus seemed no worse for the wear as he made his way over
to growing group.

Quintus
 
"Got everything you need, lads?"


"Looks like it," Titrus answered. "Jols did an outstanding job
outfitting the horses. They're all ready and antsy to ride
out."

The party was ready indeed. Where were Arthur, Amadeus and
Mordred? Malcus didn't want to run into the optio,
particularly while he was out of uniform. He'd busy himself
somewhere else when the smarmy man arrived.

Karl stood his distance away from the group, patting Brutus.
They were acting like one big fucking happy family, he thought
to himself and Karl didn't want any part of it. The Roman
caught Quintus looking at him and Karl smirked back at him,
rolling his eyes.

"What the bloody hell are we waiting for?" Karl suddenly
yelled out, seeming to momentarily halt all conversation.

Malcus shot him a scalding look.

Karl looked at Tristan. "Don't forget your apples," he laughed
and spat on the ground.
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
golden_trillium

Admin
Author: Darya
Date: Sun Oct 12, 2008 1:42 am
Darya


Malcus
 
"Now that I have seen the sunlight sparkle in your eyes,
I am wonderful…today is sure to be most pleasant. As for
Karl, the sun never shines for him. Don't take it
personally though, my lady, he doesn't like anyone. But
if he ever disrespects you or frightens you, I will beat
him within an inch of his life. You have only to find
me."


Darya could not help but breathe a small laugh at the
Captain’s new flattering words to her and she shook her head
in mild amusement. “Charmer…”, she said and glanced up at the
tall man…just in time to notice him becoming dead serious all
for sudden. Their gazes locked…and the Sarmatian nodded slowly
at his remark about Karl. She sure hoped she would never have
to get back to him because of the grumpy old Roman but could
handle him herself instead, yet she welcomed Malcus' offer. “I
will…promise…”, Darya replied just as serious as the Captain
had addressed her…

However, they were then distracted by the arrival of two more
men: Centurion Quintus and Tristan. The dark-haired didn’t pay
too much attention to the general greetings that were spoken
between the soldiers, including Brendyn…but shifted her dark
gaze on Tristan instead. The scout was approaching her and she
could see in his eyes that something seemed to weigh on his
mind. Darya could say that if she really knew one of the
knights then it was the quiet scout. Despite the years they
had been separated from one another. As far as she could tell,
he still was a lot like he had been back then in their
childhood…even though she was sure Rome had left its painful
marks on him as well…

Karl
 
"What the bloody hell are we waiting for?  Don't forget your apples,"


Now this made the Sarmatian roll her eyes and she shot a
rather angry glance at Karl before focusing on Tristan
although the scout most likely couldn’t care less about the
old Roman’s words. Clearing her throat, Darya looked at those
around her again. “Excuse me for a moment, gentlemen…”, she
said and then gave Tristan a meaningful glance before walking
a few steps away from the others, certain that her countryman
would follow should her assumption about his intentions be
correct…
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
golden_trillium

Admin
Author: sabor ice
Date: Sun Oct 12, 2008 4:06 am
Cassidy & Fleur


Drake
 
"Do you trust him?"


He leaned toward her, and although it should've been
instinctual for her to lean away simultaneously, Cassidy
instead put on a stubborn bravado and didn't move a muscle.
She didn't know why it was, but she felt the need to prove
something to him, prove to him his intimidation tactics didn't
affect her the same way they once might've. Shrewd blue eyes
narrowed as she considered his words carefully. Pursing her
lips, she cocked her head to the side as well - not to mock
him, but just to meet him eye level - her blonde hair draping
over one shoulder.

"I'm just the messenger," she replied coolly.

In all honesty, she had little opinion in the way of trust.
She didn't really trust anybody - that much Drake probably had
figured out by now. He could take her response however way he
liked, though. She was interested in his reaction, however
subtle - a twitch of his upper lip, a flash in his bottle
green eyes. Something, anything that might help her garnish a
better idea of him and what he might be thinking, since he
wasn't one to strike up a conversation or anything. Just as
Drake was attempting to figure Cassidy out, she was trying to
do the same of him.

Just then Fleur returned, the tip of her tongue sticking from
the corner of her mouth as she skillfully crept stealthily up
to the bed. The way Drake was currently hunkered forward over
the mattress was much too great an opening for the adorable
little misfit. She raised a foot onto the bed for leverage and
pulled herself onto his back, latching herself onto him like a
leech before he had the chance to react. Soft blonde tendrils
fell into her playful blue eyes as she peered over his
shoulder at the side of his rugged face mischievously.

"Piggy-back ride, Drakey!" Fleur demanded gleefully.

Cassidy cocked an eyebrow at her sister’s request of the
soldier and looked toward the man rather expectantly.
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
ZetaBoards - Free Forum Hosting
Free Forums. Reliable service with over 8 years of experience.
Go to Next Page
« Previous Topic · Vincit Omnia Veritas · Next Topic »
Add Reply
  • Pages:
  • 1
  • 6
  • 19

Christmas Theme made by Pandorasaurus of Zathyus Network Resources and Graphic Force.