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| November 2008 | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: May 16 2010, 03:48 AM (3,046 Views) | |
| golden_trillium | May 25 2010, 11:14 PM Post #181 |
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Author: LadyCastus Date: Wed Nov 19, 2008 9:11 pm Titrus Titrus glared at Nolan and Guinevere, keeping Adolphus as reassured as possible. The horse was tense, sensing others in the woods. Titrus strained to see through the tall trees but his untrained eyes couldn't detect anything out of the ordinary.
Titrus looked over at the big knight and curled the side of his mouth and tossed his head back in agreement. "Not enough arse though and her teets are too small," Titrus whispered back, sticking his tongue out and shaking his head.
"Psst. Bors, if we make it out of here alive, I'll buy you enough ale to get you drunk enough till you can't piss straight!", Titrus shot back, thinking he'd heard that about Bors before somewhere but couldn't place where. Titrus looked at Quintus. So far so good, he seemed to be holding up okay. "Quintus, that goes double for you. You'll need it before we hit that curfew," he said with a groan. Titrus watched as Arthur and woad woman spoke even though he couldn't hear anything from where he was in the line. Then the woman moved close to Arthur and instinctly, Titrus put a hand on the hilt of his sword. But because neither the optio nor Tristan made a move, Titrus stood down. Arthur must know her Titrus thought and couldn't shake the feeling of oddity about that. |
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| golden_trillium | May 25 2010, 11:15 PM Post #182 |
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Author: golden_trillium Date: Wed Nov 19, 2008 9:12 pm Linnette
"True. Very true." The corners of Linnette's mouth twitched upward as she eyed the girl over the rim of her cup; Mari did certainly have a way with words- combined with an unflaggingly positive spirit. A moment ago she had been so obviously discomfited that Linnette had regretted blurting out the impromptu question, no matter where the topic might lead them, but now, she had recovered herself and even almost managed to give Neeve's hairstyle a compliment. Amazing. "Unique," Linnette repeated musingly, lowering the cup, her eyes once more straying to the door of the tavern, through which Neeve had long since disappeared. She was no longer there...yet Linnette was still turning over the image of her in her mind, inspecting it from all angles, trying to assess Drake's reaction to her, really. And not just to her hair- to all of her, but it was true that her hair was the thing that most stood about at her at first glance. And at second, for that matter, and probably the third. It was...unique, as Mari so circumspectly put it. "Not the sort of thing a man would like, though..." she murmurred skeptically as she turned back to the table, her face drawn in thought. She was already starting to take another ruminative sip of wine when she caught Mari's eye, and thought suddenly that she had better explain herself further. "Oh, I'm not talking about me! By heaven, no," Linnette laughed and shook her head as she set the cup down, mentally shocked at the very idea of doing that to her own hair. By Mary, Gedeon would have fainted with horror at the sight. He had loved her hair. "It's just..." this was it. The opportunity Linnette had been fishing for to bring up the subject of Drake, but suddenly, her mouth was dry and she didn't seem to be able to put anything into words. Nothing that made sense, anyway, and was seemly at the same time. There was a light, fluttery nervousness in her stomach, as if she were speaking to someone of much greater stature than Mari. "Well, there's someone else I know- a widower-" she added the qualification hastily, as if the fact of having been previously married made said man more respectable. Actually, in Linnette's considered opinion, it did. "And I've been sort of...keeping an eye out for him, if you know what I mean." She didn't mention that this so-called "keeping an eye out" had only begun that very morning, on the way back from the infirmary. No, she was content to leave Mari with the impression that this was a much more long-standing thing, dating back from when Gedeon was alive- because anything else wouldn't really be appropriate, would it? Linnette's face shifted involuntarily into a discontented expression as she tried to call up the image of Drake running his hand over Neeve's cropped hair and found it suddenly displeasing. No, he wouldn't like Neeve's hair as it was at all...but hair grew. It was fixable. Linnette reached quickly for her cup and sipped at the wine again, this time giving Mari a sheepish smile and a shrug, for the foolishness of her plan. And it probably was foolish- but it was a curious relief to be able to speak of it, even in guarded and round-about language. |
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| golden_trillium | May 25 2010, 11:16 PM Post #183 |
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Author: LadyCastus Date: Wed Nov 19, 2008 9:40 pm Rosita and Nolan Rosita and Kayley made their way so that they flanked the Roman party on one side while Micah and the others flanked them on the other side. The two women crept low in the brush, peering out as Smith approached from the rear on his horse. Rosita slowly and silently raised her arm and pulled an arrow from her quiver and lined her bow with Tristan in her sights. Rosita knew the Sarmatian with the braids and tattooed cheeks was the scout. He was a real threat, so she would take him down first. Arthur was the closest to Guinevere and Rosita knew that Nolan would take him should he try anything. Rosita turned over her right shoulder and mouthed something to Kayley, then nodded her head toward the Romans. Kayley took Rosita's other bow, lined an arrow up and aimed at Amadeus. Should anything go wrong, both women were ready to take both men out. Rosita laid flat on her stomach and controlled her breathing, waiting for something to happen.
Nolan snarled at the lost opportunity to kill. His hand twisted on the hilt of his sword, turning his knuckles white. Oh, how he wanted to kill Arthur Castus!
Nolan watched as Guinevere approached Arthur and whispered in his ear. The tall woad looked up at the optio with a threatening look, as though daring him to make a move. Nolan took a step closer to the pompous Roman, a man he'd never seen before, and narrowed his eyes at him. Nolan looked quite menacing in his blue war paint, his dark hair blowing wildly about his head. He gnashed his teeth at the grey-eyed man and the woad swore he smelled fear on him. Nolan's gnashing turned into an evil grin. |
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| golden_trillium | May 25 2010, 11:20 PM Post #184 |
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Author: Unicorn Date: Thu Nov 20, 2008 11:15 am Mirtha Mirtha had never shared his alcohol with anybody before. It was his stuff... only his. But this time he felt it was okey to share it. He didn't know why. Mybe it was because of the mood today... or because it was already a very strange day alread. Who knows? He liked to drink alone... with his own thoughts and his own problems. He liked to drink himself to the point he did not remember anything... when the world spinned around... when he had no senses at all. He liked to curse the world, gods and everyone for the life he had... And he liked to be out of his mind, once in a while... Out of his mind... it meant when he didn't remeber what had he done. He liked it... It kept him going somehow. Today he felt bad about it.... He used Ione because of it. He was nervous because of it. His voice was harsh and his throat was sore because of this drinking. He felt bad about it... But who cared? And why should he care?
A large sip from Mirtha's bottle was taken and stablemaster watched the man silently. Then grasped a packages thrown at him from Karl. He frowned slightly as he propped himself beside Karl.
Mirtha shook his head puting the food on the ground and streanching his hand for the bottle. He shrugged and murmured something under his nose. He didn't need any food for drinking.
Mirtha smiled slightly and took the bottle from Karl after he had done drinking. He sipped a lot of it hismelf and closed his eyes briefly. "Yhea.. it's not bad." he said hoarsly. "I probably shouldn't be drinking... If that fucking captain of yours see me like that.. I'll be back in that stinky cell room!" |
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| golden_trillium | May 25 2010, 11:21 PM Post #185 |
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Author: Darya Date: Thu Nov 20, 2008 12:25 pm Darya The dark Sarmatian watched Lancelot take his leave and briefly shook her head. But before she could get lost in her own thoughts once more, Tatiana reacted to her earlier proposal regarding a drink for the stable-hand…
Darya blinked at the excited stream of words and could not help the faint wry smile that tugged at the corner of her mouth. However, she was not sure if she should actually voice her true thoughts concerning what Lancelot was probably thinking about Tatiana and her way of addressing him…or if she should find a comprise-way since she did not want to lie to the girl. “Well…”, the dark-haired said and slowly moved on towards the tavern, confident that Tatiana would come along, “…I think a drink will help you to calm down again.” She gave the girl another half-smile. “It seems our dear First Knight has made you…a bit nervous…” The Sarmatian paused and pushed the door to the tavern open as the two reached the building, waiting for Tatiana to pass her and enter first. She could of course spoil the girl’s enthusiasm regarding Lancelot…but she did not want to. She would certainly get enough chances to do so later; no doubt the knight himself would provide her with the reasons for it. He had a talent there. “He certainly is a handsome man though…”, Darya added as she watched Tatiana to see if the stable-hand would pick a table or of she would have to do that herself, “…a man who obviously has just made quite an impression on you…” |
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| golden_trillium | May 25 2010, 11:22 PM Post #186 |
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Author: Elessars Girl Date: Thu Nov 20, 2008 12:59 pm Arthur Oh Arthur was acutely aware of the show of aggression from Guinevere’s single companion, but the Commander would not be intimidated so easily. And by all appearances, the man was not in command of the Woads present….thus Arthur’s focus remained on Merlin’s daughter…and her dark eyes only. Arthur also knew that she would not attack him personally and doubted the dark-haired beauty would allow her kinsmen to draw weapons against Arthur’s men without provocation. The small smile that played upon her lips – seemingly for him only - spoke to Arthur far more than any words could have....
….even idle threats from the warrior at her side. No, Arthur’s green eyes never wavered from Guinevere’s expression despite the taunts from her companion. But the Commander would not hesitate to draw his blade should the man persist. Arthur was not fully recovered, but even in his current condition it would take much more than a single Woad with an attitude to best Arthur. He was a master of war and wielded Excalibur with a brute strength and precision rarely matched by any foe in hand to hand combat. Even without Lancelot at his back.
Arthur remained stoic and impassive – green eyes only for her….quietly observing every nuance in her appearance and body language…noting the confidence and ease in which Guinevere was equally regarding the Commander in return. Oh what powerful allies they would have made if circumstances had been different.
Arthur waited with temperate patience while Guinevere spoke a few words in mild reprimand to this ‘Nolan’. His gloved fingers flexed on the leather straps of Casti’s reins in his hands behind his back. But that was the only outward indication of Arthur’s impatience, and at any rate went unseen by anyone in front of him. Guinevere’s gaze never left Arthur’s even while she spoke to the other and sheathed her small weapon. The Commander had no doubt that the lady was lethal with a blade…should she be so inclined. And Arthur also knew – without a doubt – that it was Guinevere that commanded this party of Woads…thus it was with her that the Commander must reach a peaceful accord before having even the slimmest of chances at gaining access to Merlin.
Her voice was melodic, yet still conveyed Guinevere’s inner strength. Was she teasing him? Arthur’s emerald eyes glinted in the afternoon sun as the grey skies briefly parted overhead. But the bright light was a fleeting thing and as the grey once again choked out the sun…she closed what little distance had been between them. Arthur’s expression was unflinching even as Guinevere tilted her head upwards towards his ear. He inhaled her scent – woodsy, crisp…chilled by the wintry winds and cold sky. Or so he assumed.
…her breath was a wisp of welcomed warm air on the chilled shell of Arthur’s ear if only for the briefest of moments. “I seek Merlin to reconcile a wrong that was done, yes,” Arthur gave his answer – truthfully and in a tone that clearly gave away his determination. He then allowed a genuine smile; one hand coming around from behind to lightly touch at Guinevere’s elbow. “I will gladly suffer your father’s anger if it will settle the matter of peace between us once and for all,” Arthur added, making his intentions quite clear. “Are you in need of aid here? I offer assistance in exchange for your cooperation…allow me passage to Merlin,” Arthur gave his terms with a small press at the lady’s elbow and then broke the physical contact between them…although his intense gaze never left Guinevere’s dark eyes. She had known Arthur long enough to know he was a man of his word. And all the better if he could convince Merlin’s daughter to escort them to the village….peacefully. Arthur’s wound chose this very moment to pain him and it took every ounce of his willpower to mask the ache in his side. His cheek momentarily twitched though, but the smile upon his lips never faltered. Arthur did not think on himself as charming or handsome…but if those natural born gifts that he so humbly chose to ignore were of use at all, now was the time….as he faced the lady warrior with the soulful black eyes and who could either inflict more pain or who could instead aid Arthur in his quest for peace and redemption. |
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| golden_trillium | May 25 2010, 11:24 PM Post #187 |
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Author: Darya Date: Thu Nov 20, 2008 1:01 pm Neeve Neeve nodded at Vanora when the tavern-manager reacted to her words or gratitude. But then the three reached their destination and the healer’s blue eyes shifted towards Neeria again. Nothing of the earlier bitchiness seemed to be left as the Woad glanced at their surrounding like a child: with huge eyes and obvious amazement reflected in her face.
The healer furrowed her brow as she tried to decide which question she should – or could – answer first, but Vanora already spoke…
Neeve pursed her lips and let her gaze follow Vanora’s gestures. She found herself amazed every time she realized just how many children Vanora and Bors already had…and secretly was pretty sure that more would follow. But then it seemed the redhead was born to be a mother anyway while Neeve herself could not even imagine having a child, let alone several. The healer smirked slightly to herself before focusing on Neeria again. “Not all people of Badon have their own house…”, the Briton added to Vanora’s reply, “…some only have a room in one of the huge buildings or live in small huts like the Roman soldiers…” The raven-haired woman deliberately ignored Neeria’s question about whether or not she lived in a house, too. Neeve should probably still stay in her old room in the back of the infirmary…but Arthur had allowed her to live in Markaad’s old room instead. It was a room meant for two knights…now it was a room for two healers since she was sharing it with Isolde. However, it was of course located among the knights' rooms and therewith made it easy for her to check on the Sarmatians if necessary. Especially since it was near impossible to get a part of them into the infirmary; Lancelot being the worst of them. Then Neeve entered Vanora’s house and even though she had been grateful for the cold clear air outside, she now welcomed the warmth of the building. Her anger had faded somewhat and she hoped Neeria would not heat it up again so soon. “But please, Vanora…make short work of it”, the healer addressed the redhead before the other woman could disappear to search for the promised clothes, “…do not give away what you and your family need yourselves… I’ll find another solution if necessary…” |
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| golden_trillium | May 25 2010, 11:24 PM Post #188 |
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Author: Starbelle Date: Thu Nov 20, 2008 1:20 pm Tatiana
Reaching a table, Tatiana pulled out a chair and slid into it as she thought over what Darya told her. "Yes, he is and yes he did at that" She said to her friend, slowly coming down off of the feelings that had bubbled through her during her meeting with the First Knight. "Wait a minute, are you saying he didn't quite like the way I addressed him? Darya, I need to know something, and please be honest with me, since he's a kinsman of yours.. "Did he think I was being flighty or odd? What did he think of me?" She asked glancing down at the table before meeting her friend's eyes again. "I need to know so just in case we happen to run into each other again somewhere in here, I can put some sort of lid on my feelings and not or at least try not to act like that around him." She said while mentally preparing herself for whatever the dark-haired might or would say. |
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| golden_trillium | May 25 2010, 11:25 PM Post #189 |
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Author: Eledhwen Date: Thu Nov 20, 2008 1:35 pm Bors The Woad on the horse behind them made Bors twitchy, and it was all he could do to leave his left hand on top of his right on the pommel of his saddle, to prevent himself from sliding his sword free of its scabbard to kill the insolent bugger. Woads shouldn't have horses. It wasn't right.
The burly knight stared at the Roman by his side, whom he was beginning to take a grudging liking to. Could it be that some of the arrogant pricks were actually human under that poncey gold armour and girly robes? He barked out a single short laugh, glancing towards Arthur even as he did so to see if his mirth disturbed him. No worries there - their illustrious leader seemed to be completely bewitched by the Woad whore.
"You've got yerself a date, mate," he replied softly from the corner of his mouth. "But I warn you now, I can always piss straight, drunk or not... It's holding it that's the problem!" With that he raised his left hand and made it into a fist. "Know what I mean?" he winked and leered lewdly as he coughed up a gravelly snigger. |
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| golden_trillium | May 25 2010, 11:26 PM Post #190 |
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Author: TwistOfShadows Date: Thu Nov 20, 2008 5:39 pm Guinevere Guinevere was being watched, studied, analysed by her male enemies. It was true, she was merely a woman...but oh so understood by the ignorant. Guinevere stood defiantly before Artorius Castus, and her chin was lifted high, boldly. Her form was lean, lithe, and clearly toned from climbing trees and covering long distances on foot. She was not fat and lazy like most Romans, and she certainly did not have ideas above her station. Guinevere was Merlin’s daughter, and commanded respect as thus. Many men had threatened to defile her, abuse her, violate this strikingly strong femme...but did she pay them any attention? Her eyes were ablazed onyx and black, and she met Arthur with little hesitation. She knew this man, and was familiar with the enemy. This meeting certainly carried more weight and loyalty than spitting insults at a Roman elitest who believed life was bred on blood and gold. Guinevere had little patience for male judgements. She had led entire armies, and she had killed men with her small blue hands. Let them judge. She could feel their hard gazes upon her form, and she drew strength from it. She pulled her shoulders back, and stood her ground better for it. Nolan spoke out of turn...but it was in her defence. Unfortunately for him, Nolan did not understand Artorius Castus, and that held him at a severe disadvantage. Rome viewed their people as savages, barbarians, and wasn’t it a sweet shock to find them more civilised and intelligent than themselves? Rome had its philosophers, its senators, its church...but Briton had its people. Briton had Merlin. Artorius was their most capable enemy, and Guinevere knew this. He was clever, and a dangerous man. Should he be challenged. Guinevere did not underestimate that. Guinevere stood close to the Commander, and spoke privately with him. She had power here, she commanded the pathway and passage that Arthur sought. But why should it be granted?
Guinevere did not withdraw from Arthur. Her body was close, and she only imagined what his companions must be assuming. Her dark eyes looked at him, intense and potent in their calm gaze, and she listened. The woman’s expression did not change, not even when she felt his hand touch gently at her elbow. His palm was cold against her blue skin, and she glanced down at his contact, lifting her brows in amusement. Her own hand came up to rest upon Arthur’s breastplate, and she traced the engravings with her small fingers. Very Roman. It may have appeared intimate...but rather, it was calculated. The woman had never liked metal armour, it made it harder to slice through a man’s stomach. She pressed her palm flat against his chest, and glanced down at the small space between them. She could not see any hidden or disguised weaponry, and she did not hide her enquiring gaze. Arthur stepped away, and she retreated in that same moment. The woman nodded her head bluntly, unaffected. Theirs was a strange friendship, familiarity, and Guinevere was sure he used her as a tool. A key to her father, perhaps? It mattered not. The woman blinked lazily at him, considering his words. Guinevere would never attack unprovoked, and Arthur knew this...surely? “If you seek to right every wrong committed against my people by Rome, Artorius, I fear you will be here for several long seasons.” Guinevere spoke levelly, smoothly, and her amusement was evident. Arthur was clever with words, and his presence commanded attention, compliance. But Guinevere was no fool, and she would certainly not be treated as one. What aid could he offer her? Rome had done more than enough in the last week. Her lips lifted into a cold and brief smile, and she raised her hand to signal her brethren. “Very well. You have the passage you seek, but it does not come freely. We will escort you...” Guinevere turned her back on Arthur, but looked back at him over her shoulder. “Keep close. I would not like to see anything terrible befall your men...” Guinevere held Arthur’s green gaze, and smiled. In any other circumstances, it would have seemed light-hearted, but Guinevere used this to her advantage. She blinked at him, and then turned back to her men, speaking loudly. “Hold your positions. Surrounded at all times.” Guinevere made no secret of her orders, and she waited patiently for Arthur to mount his horse. She could not deny her curiosity. Arthur was unpredictable, clever, and Guinevere was intrigued by him. Half British, half Roman? What a fine British warrior he would have made...and handsome too. Arthur was wasted on Roman loyalty... |
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| golden_trillium | May 25 2010, 11:28 PM Post #191 |
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Author: golden_trillium Date: Thu Nov 20, 2008 7:10 pm Quintus
"Shhh!" Quintus shot a sharp, annoyed glance towards the Sarmatian, wishing that he and Titrus would shut up with the bloody jokes for a minute so they could maybe hear what was going on. Titrus was his superior, of course, and he could say nothing directly to him, and normally Quintus had nothing to do with the Sarmatians, but in this case, he was willing to, for a moment, cross the lines of strict heirarchy and express his feelings. The Commander and the Woad woman seemed to be exchanging some important words...Arthur had his hand on her elbow, he said something else, his voice an unintelligible rumble, then withdrew his hand again...and then Quintus thought he caught the word "passage" in the Woad woman's answer, and she raised her hand as if giving some sort of signal, then half-turned away. Her male companion, however, looked just as threatening as ever. What was happening? Were they going on...and to where? |
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| golden_trillium | May 25 2010, 11:29 PM Post #192 |
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Author: lady ione Date: Thu Nov 20, 2008 10:27 pm Brendyn Brendyn was trying to remain alert, but his body was beginning to remind him that he had just gotten over night watch before the order to be on this mission came about. He stiffled a yawn, and shifted very slightly in his saddle. He had not said much to the others as it was hard to hear what was said while conversing. The young soldier looked over at Bors, then to Titrus and lastly to Quintus. When he had first met the Sarmatian, Brendyn had decided to like the husky knight. As a matter of fact, after meeting Gawain then Galahad, he had decided that Sarmatians were not all as bad as he had heard. His eyes followed Bors as he moved his horse closer to Quintus's. He was already well in protection distance to Titrus , Quintus and Arthur... Being in the middle of the group but well within earshot of any of them made it easy for him to defend, but to him Arthur was the priority. Tyranus shifted a bit, slowly moving a tad closer to the Commander. It was then that Titrus and Bors began to talk, and it was slightly annoying as this really was not the time to be talking ale and women... well and the art of pissing straight when drunk. Brendyn liked a good ale, but he had never been so drunk as to not be able to collect his senses the next morning. He had never gotten the corrilation between women and ale, but then it seemed to him that it was duty first and therefore being sober enough to carry out an order....
Brendyn looked over at Bors, then at Titrus with a frown Kill us? Be here for hours? Thankfully, Quintus had finally told them to hush up. Brendyn stroked Tyranus's soft black fur calming the animal though the horse had calmed quite a bit. All the while, his eyes remained on the bushes and trees about the group. If he was scared, or afraid, he didn't show it outwardly. The young soldier furrowed his brow at the chat between the Lieutenant and the Sarmatian, but continued to look at nothing now but the talk between Arthur and Guinevere. He did not have the acute senses of the Scout, but he got the feeling of being watched, and he hated it, yet he remained calm as did Tyranus. One false move and that would be the end of the talks. He still kept in mind what Malcus had told the group in the briefing: to defend Arthur and each other with your life, and then what Arthur had said: this was a mission of peace above all else. Brendyn was amazed by the way Arthur and Guinevere never wavered in their gazes. Even as things took place about them, the two still held each other's gaze. No doubt searching each other's eyes for signs of treachery. Antonius had always told his men that the only way to see an enemy was to search their eyes as they were wells to their souls... It seemed that this was true in this case.
Brendyn raised an eyebrow. Well that was a good sign of a peace offering... sort of. He studied Guinevere, hoping that she'd take the offer. She seemed wise beyond her years, but still she was a woad... could she really be unreasonable toward the Roman Commander's offer? His answer came in her response as she raised her hand in signal to those hiding about them, Then turned her back on the Commander. Brendyn got a feeling of tenseness, though he showed none of it. It was just not a good time to do so...
Well, at least they got passage to see Merlin and that was a good start, though more tense than Brendyn hoped to feel. He took the leather reins firmly but lightly in his right hand, and left the other rest on his upper leg waiting for Arthur to remount. The one he had not studied through this was the Optio, Amadeus. He had not even really reacted to Guinevere's phrase about "the Optio's Insult". Well, he was still not sure what to make of him. Brendyn just decided to continue observing, and being alert... though deep down, a bed and a few days sleep would be most welcomed. Outwardly, the soldier readied himself for what he saw as an adventure. Where she and her body guard would take them, he could only guess, so he prepared himself to follow them... |
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| golden_trillium | May 25 2010, 11:30 PM Post #193 |
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Author: Unicorn Date: Fri Nov 21, 2008 12:41 am Dagonet There were tears in his eyes now... Saoirse told him what she felt... she told the thing he couldn't say in the infirmary. He could stop pretending anything now. This moment was a great relief for both of them. He hoped so at least. It brought a relief to him. The tears in his eyes where not the grieving tears, but tears of happiness to have her in her arms, so thight beside him... so close. The happiness that he could not show before. The relief to see her unharmed... well besides that leg... after a Woad attack on the fort. Relief that she didn't disappear on him again. Relief that she was here with him. Helping him. She grasped his tunic while he spoke and Dagonet found it heartbreaking... it felt like Saoirse wanted to keep him in place, like she was afraid of loosing him. It told him that death of Gedeon was a great shock and sadness for her also... That it made her realise that Dagonet could die also. Never return to her thight embrace. This realisation hit her hard... as well the tall knight right now. He did not think in this way. He had never positioned himself in her place. He never knew how hard it must be to wait.... Not being sure what was going on. And how much had she suffered seeing him injured on that cart? Thinking maybe that it was him that had not returned.
Dagonet kept her close... feeling her warmth and sympathizing her in this moment. He didn't know... He didn't realise that she must have been hurt also... Hurt over him grieving over his son, while she felt the happiness of being again together with Dagonet. He remained silent, but his eyes shimmered in tears. Tears for her and for what she had to feel right now. "I understand, little one" he spoke softly. "And sorry... that I couldn't see that. I am happy to be here with you... really" he whispered. "There is nothing wrong with that." Gedeon would like that... he thought closing his eyes again briefly. His son would like him to go on...to be happy... to stop looking behind his shoulders. Gedeon would like him to stop being guilty and sorry for what he had done. Gedeon would like see his father fighting, as he had always done. So Dagonet will fight for himself and for the ones around him... He will struggle to find a little light of happiness for himself and hold on it.
A smile appeared on his face as she asked the question. He nodded silently. "Aye..." he said, but did not move. "I don't want to hear more, how I stink of horse and blood" |
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| golden_trillium | May 25 2010, 11:32 PM Post #194 |
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Author: Darya Date: Fri Nov 21, 2008 12:41 pm Darya When Tatiana finally admitted that Darya had been very right with her appraisal of the effect Lancelot had had on the stable-hand, the Sarmatian licked her lips stiffly and briefly lowered her gaze to the ground to not make her amused smirk too obvious. She followed the girl to the next table and sat down on the free chair once Tatiana had chosen her seat. Darya’s dark eyes immediately scanned the room…and she spotted Linnette talking to the girl she had seen with Milan a few times, and a few other more or less familiar faces. Twisting her mouth slightly, the dark-haired then focused on the hawk on her arm and perched the bird onto the back rest of the third chair at the table…making sure the animal found its balance as she did so. Then Darya kept an eye open for one of the wenches to come by to take their order…
For a moment, the Sarmatian just looked at Tatiana…not sure how to react. The girl’s excitement was so amusing…it was almost cute. Then the dark-haired breathed a quiet laugh and leaned her head back for a moment. She brushed a hand over her face and shook her head slightly before meeting Tatiana’s gaze again. “I’m not a mind-reader…”, she finally said, “…and Lancelot is quite unpredictable in everything he does…or does not.” Darya sighed and schooled her features to a more neutral expression. “Certainly your very…apparent…admiration flattered him a lot and was good for his already big Ego…”, the female Sarmatian added, “…yet I’m not quite sure what you expect from me now, Tatiana. What do you want to hear?” Or what would you like to hear?, Darya added in thought before she was distracted by one of the serving wenches stopping at their table. “A tea for me, please…a piece of raw meat for the bird if you have…and a strong drink for her…”, she ordered and briefly pointed at Tatiana. Since the stable-hand had told her that she had never had anything stronger than a lemon tea, the Sarmatian decided without further ado to take care of the order for both of them. And even though the wench appeared a bit confused by the hawk and the meat Darya had just ordered, she nodded and moved to get the drinks and the meat… With that, Darya’s gaze lingered questioningly on Tatiana again… |
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| golden_trillium | May 25 2010, 11:32 PM Post #195 |
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Author: Starbelle Date: Fri Nov 21, 2008 1:26 pm Tatiana
"That's good..at least *that* part of it worked out just fine." Tatiana replied, letting out a breath of air that she hadn't realized that the stable-hand was holding in. "I guess what I'm really trying to ask, is, since I've never met anyone quite like him before, should I have not touched him on his hand but on his cheek, instead? Did I do or say anything wrong when I met him in the stableyard? Would he mind my talking to him again, if we were to meet in here somewhere? I'm just so confused where Lancelot's concerned." She said puffing out a breath of air, while trying to get her thoughts into some type of order. "Did I go overboard somewhere during our first meeting?" |
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