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November 2008
Topic Started: May 16 2010, 03:48 AM (3,057 Views)
golden_trillium

Admin
Author: Pinkie
Date: Mon Nov 03, 2008 7:38 am
Drake


Drake wasn't angry or upset. But nor was he entirely sure he
felt really sane in those few seconds since turning his back
on Linnette. He felt detached from himself, his hand about
Fleur's warm little leg, Cassidy silent beside him - it all
seemed surreal. He badly needed a drink but he knew himself
well enough to know that it would not stop at a drink. Not one
- but many, and many more and he would become drunk and that
way led to misery. He knew that. He had been there before.

Resolutely the Spaniard pushed down the urge to lose his mind
in the end of a bottle.

Linnette
 
"Drake? If you find me later, I'll redo the bandage on
your hand. If you... If it might be easier,"


She called hsi name and Drake prickled all over. Had she ever
actually said his name before? He stiffened, staring straight
ahead. Fleur's little fingers were touching the back of his
neck as she held on, her head lowered to his shoulder so that
her whispy blonde hair stuck to his beard. Linnette was over
that side and Drake didn't look towards her, his jaw set he
stared straight ahead as she offered to bandage his hand.
What hand?!

Oh...

She walked off and the Spaniard flexed his fingers beneath
Fleur's little leg, feeling the frayed edges of the bandage
catch against the callouses of his fingers. The hole in his
hand from when the Woad had ... that bandage.

Drake walked out of the infirmary before taking a breath.
Fleur asked him a question and he shook his head, not truly
hearing what she said, distant was his mind. Cassidy looked up
at him suspiciously but this he ignored also. His boots
thudded quietly as he walked them across the courtyard and
towards the fortress. Someone inside would know this blonde
woman, Catherine, and someone would know where she lived.


A man in the fortress had known Catherine, and knew of her
friend Arland. Arland had initially been indignant, looking at
the little blonde girls but had eventually ceded the
information to Drake's impenetrably stoic expression. Not only
that but the youth had walked Drake to the front door as well,
leaving him there with a rather elegant lookng older woman.

She had been dubious at first. Eyeing Drake and eyeing the
girls as they sat by the hearth-fire eating oaty cakes whilst
Drake sat at the table speaking with the woman, bartering a
good upbringing for them. His initial promise of a lump-sum
was met with disdain from the woman. It would suit her better
to receive a nice sum monthly from him as she presumed that he
was their father and that he was recently bereaved of his wife
and could not take care of the two children. Drake did not
discourage nor deny what she claimed... nor did he affirm
them.

In the end he convinced her a lump-sum was best because, due
to the unpredictable nature of his work he might be dead
tomorrow. It was not a huge amount, Drake knew, but he would
also be certain to give the girls their own money once they
came of an age taht they would need it.

Cassidy was silent about the arrangement. Fleur was delighted.
The woman, Rose, was a little hard of sight but she took to
the girls immediately and opened up a chest from beneath the
table that was filled with girls clothing and accroutements.
Drake gave a lopsided smile at this and bid farewell to the
girls, promising Cassidy he would be by to check on them , and
to make sure that they were being treated well. He had no
doubt about it.

Rose had been a weaver and had already proclaimed that she
would educate the older of the girls in the art.

Returning to his little room, Drake resolutely did not look at
Linnette's door. He did not knock to see if she was there. He
went into his own little room and flopped down onto his bed,
arm across his flat stomach and gave a groan of weariness. He
had barely slept the night before and he was starting to feel
the pang of that now. Without thought he crossed his forearm
over his eyes and gently sild it down, brushing the soft hairs
there under his nose and took a gentle sniff before realising
what he was doing.

Grunting, he tossed onto his side and shut his eyes,
determined to find some sleep before facing the world again.
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golden_trillium

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Author: lady ione
Date: Mon Nov 03, 2008 10:01 am

Ione


Sister Margaret
 
"Well, we can send you to your shop so that you can rest
there, Ione. Could you please go and make up some black
haw for Ione to take home with her?"


Linnesse
 
"Of course, Sister," "I'll just be a minute,"


The young weaver had been a bit apprehensive about even making
a guess as to how far along she was, and tried to think back
that long....there had been Matteus and Gialdin (who had
totally forgotten her, and had refused to even admit that they had once had
feelings for each other.) The Roman then? Ione frowned at her
own suspicion, and then just thought it foolish to even try to
guess right now. As long as the child was healthy and strong,
then that was all that mattered for the time being.... When
the child got older, then she could tell who the father was.
Those months back then had been nothing but turmoil for her:
the loss of memory, the feelings of loneliness and confusion.
It was a past that she had dealt with.

It was time to look to the present and the future.

Just raising her child as a single mother, and running her
shop.

Ione's thought's broke as she noticed Linnesse's confused look
at her answer. As the blond healer headed to the door and
opened it, Ione wondered if this was going to change how she
saw her...or for that matter, how Titrus saw her. They had
been friends for so long, before Deeta had died, and it really
mattered to her how he looked at all of this. It really
mattered to her what he thought. In that moment, Ione's mind
wondered to the two times Matteus had made love to her...in
that brief and happy span of time before he was killed in the
dungeons. The same day she had promised to marry him. Oh!
Those memories hurt! The love they had shared had been very
brief.

The young woman nodded her head as Linnesse left the room
leaving her with Sister Margaret. The weaver liked most of the
nuns even though she was not of the Christian religion, and
Sister Margaret seemed to be rather a likable soul. As
Linnesse shut the door, the nun looked down at Ione with a
neutral look. Either Ione knew who the father was and was not
saying, or she knew and the father was dead....which, at the
fort, was the most likely fact. Most of the women at Badon had
been married to soldiers who had died in battle.

A long period of silence stretched between the nun and the
weaver. Ione wanted so much to say something.... to finally
have a non-judgemental person to talk to. She had thought
about talking about how to raise her child as she had never
been a mother before, and this was all new and exciting for
her... she could talk of her visit with Titrus, but that was
reserved for them alone and she felt was not to be shared with
others. The soft gentle kiss he had brushed over her lips had
been a sweet and unexpected surprise. After Deeta had died,
Ione had allowed him to go through a period of grieving, and
had been there for him if he needed to talk. Both of them had
tragedies in their lives and had always been there for the
other. What were friends for?

She felt the moment again and rubbed her hand over the area to
calm it down...

It was not long before Linnesse returned, shutting the door
behind her, and walking over to the bed with two neatly
wrapped packets which she lay on the table. Ione sat slowly up
propping herself up on the pillows while Linnesse began to
speak...

Linnesse
 
"Here you are..." "The larger one's the black haw, and
the smaller one is some chamomile?"


Sister Margaret
 
"Take a small cup of the black haw..." "every day for
the next month. Then, if you've had no more bleeding or
contractions, you can stop unless they come on again. If
you do have more signs of miscarrying, take a bigger
cup, or have someone make it for you, and send someone
for me. Don't try to walk to the infirmary yourself,
though, if you can possibly help it- lie down and rest
wherever you are. You understand?"


Ione looked intently at both healers as the nun explained the
instructions. Ione wanted a child so badly, and vowed to take
every precaution to make sure this one survived. "Yes, I
understand, Sister," Was all she said. Self consciously, Ione
reached down to straighten her dress making ready to try to
get up and walk off some of the residule achiness. The
infirmary room now held nothing but sorrow that Ione would not
readily forget, and that feeling made her miss her shop.

But it also held happiness as it held the sweet memory of a
tender kiss.
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golden_trillium

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Author: Darya
Date: Mon Nov 03, 2008 10:19 am
Darya


The dark Sarmatian had fallen quiet and merely watched the
others around her. It was hard to tell how the men felt about
their upcoming mission…with one exception. Karl made it pretty
obvious that he was not exactly excited about it. On the
contrary it seemed. And when he once more attempted to provoke
first Tristan, who was just returning with Lancelot and Arthur
in tow, and then Brendyn, Darya frowned at the old Roman. What
on earth had happened to make him so grumpy and straight out
obnoxious? No one was born that way…right?

Wrinkling her nose slightly at Karl, the woman shifted her
dark gaze into the direction she had just spotted Lancelot and
Arthur approaching and once more found herself amazed by the
Commander’s shining, impressive armour that should make every
enemy or potential enemy think twice before saying or doing
something imprudent. Arthur was all the Roman soldier now…and
yet Darya knew that underneath the armour he was a still
injured man. She could not help but wonder whether or not
Neeve did approve him riding out. Most likely not.

And Lancelot? Her countryman looked like a mess. Dirty,
tired…bad. The dark-haired arched an eyebrow at his sorry
appearance for a moment but then focused on the argument
between Brendyn and Karl instead…which was quiet. Yet. But
knowing Karl, that might change soon…

The hawk on Darya’s arm shifted slightly…alternately lifting
one foot than the other to flex the clawed toes. It was a
strange feeling as the Sarmatian was very aware of the bird’s
claws separating from her skin…and then digging into it
through the drapery of her dress again. Still not
painfully…but clearly noticeable. “Don’t worry…”, the woman
murmured quietly, “…he won’t be gone for long…and I’ll find
you some meat soon, too.” With that, a corner of her mouth
twitched slightly…

Amadeus
 
"Enough! Your Commander is present."


Dark eyes snapped up and found the Optio for a moment. Well,
those words should put an end to Karl’s bickering and perhaps
prevent Brendyn from getting into serious trouble by allowing
the older Roman to finally provoke him. Licking her lips
stiffly, Darya averted her gaze from Scipio again and watched
everyone’s reaction to them…
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golden_trillium

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Author: golden_trillium
Date: Mon Nov 03, 2008 10:52 am
Linnesse


Ione
 
"Yes, I understand, Sister."


"Good. Go with God, child, and make sure you get your rest."
Sister Margaret raised her hand to sketch a quick sign of the
cross, as though blessing Ione with a prayer, and Linnesse
moved reflexively to cross herself likewise, the habit deeply
ingrained by years of attending church. She finished the
gesture hastily, though, and stepped forward to Ione's side as
the other woman made to rise from the bed- awkwardly, and if
not exactly painfully, as though it was an effort.

"I'll walk with you if you like, Ione," Linnesse offered,
scooping the teas off the bedside table and then holding out
her other arm to Ione, ready to assist her to rise if she
needed it. It seemed so...so anticlimatic, so quietly
desperate, that Ione should just walk out of here and go home,
just as if it was any other day and she hadn't just given
birth to a dead child, long before its time. So much had
happened- and the sun hadn't even reached its zenith in the
sky yet today.

"Help you get settled in..." she continued in a murmur,
thinking ahead to what she could do for Ione once they got
there. Get a cup of that tea started, perhaps...bring her as
many of her requirements as she could so further journeys
wouldn't be necessary...a flash of fantasy, of herself doing
all these things for Linnette, should it be required, formed
itself in Linnesse's mind, and she bit her lip with a silent
prayer for it not to. Please, please, let Linnette's child be
healthy and strong, and born in the full time...it was so
easy, so dreadfully easy, to lose a baby, but the one Linnette
carried now had so much riding on it, being the child of a
dead father as it was. Not that Ione felt any less strongly
about hers...

Linnesse sighed uncomfortably as she reached down to help Ione
up.
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: Pinkie
Date: Mon Nov 03, 2008 11:28 am
Galahad


There was something amazingly soothing about brushing down a
good horse. Galahad worked thoroughly, slowly but thoroughly.
His side ached but the wound remained sealed, thankfully. The
cut high on his cheek from the fight the day before stung as
dust clung to his skin but it was a tolerable pain. He would
cleanse it properly later. The grey stood stoic and willing as
the Knight brushed and wiped, brushed and wiped - leaving her
coat shimmering, almost silver rather than grey. There was a
bit of a commotion down the way and the curly haired knight
straightened, wincing at the creak in his back as he leaned on
the door to peer down the line of stalls. He could barely see
anything so shrugged and turned back to his horse.

He knuckled his hand deep into the knotted tendons at the base
of his spine and groaned, wondering when he had become such an
old man.

The Optio came walking by the stalls and took the reins of his
horse off a young girl a couple of stalls down from him. Over
his shoulder, Galahad watched the sharp-nosed man warily,
staying very still. He felt himself goggle when the Optio
tossed the girl some coins adn then turned back to toss her
some more with an order to look in on two other horses.
Galahad snorted in private amusement at that. He ducked his
head and looked back at his horse.

The task had his mind's total and undivided attention. Until
he stopped.

Then the crushing pain of betrayal added to the young Knight's
woes. He pouted his bottom lip in self-pity and looked up at
the rafters with moist eyes. Lifting a horsey-smelling hand,
Galahad wiped beneath his nose and sniffled loudly, setting
back to work to take his mind off of it... off of her, again.

Tossing the brushes onto the stable floor, Galahad took the
reins of the horse from it's hook on teh wall and set about
strapping, bridling and saddling the horse. His movements were
quick, efficient, perhaps a little terse and sharp but it got
the job done thoroughly and quickly. With a menacing scowl on
his face the Kinght led the horse out of it's stall and in the
opposite direction of the gathering for the mission, across a
threshold and into the wide, empty, indoor arena.

He stood a moment looking at the arena and then turned to
mount the grey.
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: Unicorn
Date: Mon Nov 03, 2008 11:48 am
Dagonet


Dagonet was slowly positioning himself to leave the infirmary.
Saoirse was back and he just gave her a little smile at her
return. His every movement was stiff, his strenghts plainly
diminished, his body was still weak... It would be a hard
walk, but he needed it. He needed to be out of here for some
time only.

Before he even attempted to get up a familiar voice caught him
in place.

Linnette
 
"Father?"


Dagonet's head snapped to the side at this call. Linnette was
going their way fast with somebody behind her. The tall knight
frowned a little at this. Did something happen? He looked
briefly at Saoirse before Linnette and a girl behind her came
closer.

Linnette
 
"Father...I wondered if I could ask you something,"


Dagonet frowned slightly at this, but there was hint of smile
behind this frown... What was this all about? He glanced over
the young woman, who came with Linnette and he saw her smiling
at him slightly.

"I was just actually..." he started, but nodded his head,
sighing a little. "Sure... What is it?"
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: lady ione
Date: Mon Nov 03, 2008 11:50 am
Ione


She would not have anted to leave so soon, but that staying in
a room where she had lost her child was making her uneasy. Not
that she'd put the memory of her lost child aside... it would
have been a boy, and even though it had died, Ione had felt so
much love for it that it almost broke her heart to even
release it. Titrus had assured her that Ian would go to
heaven, and she prayed that was so. She bowed her head in
respect as the nun blessed her, while Linnesse had made what
the Christains called The sign of the cross. The weaver still
did not fully understand this, but she had seen her father do
the same sign a few times...

Sister Margaret
 
"Good. Go with God, child, and make sure you get your
rest."


Linnesse
 
"I'll walk with you if you like, Ione," "Help you get
settled in..."


The healer had taken the teas from the table and placed them
in her pocket, while Ione made a move to get out of bed, the
nun and Linnesse made ready to help her to get out of bed.
Ione stopped a few times as there was just some dull residule
achiness. The weaver sat there for a moment, and brushed her
hand over the areas where she had cuddled her dead child...
telling it that she loved it and would never forget it. She
looked up at the healer with blurred eyes, "I-I feel as though
I should stay here as I have just lost my little boy.... but
all I would feel was agony if I stayed here any longer.." Ione
sniffed a bit trying not to cry again as she looked down at
the roundness of her stomach. ''I loved Ian so... so much and
now he is gone... I would like to go to the shop... so that I
may grieve in silence..."

The weaver reached out and took the arms of both healers, and
slowly stood making sure she had her balance. Her eyes filled
with tears once again, but she didn't cry. Instead she offered
Linnesse a small smile, "Thank you, Linnesse. I would like you
to help me... " To refuse the offer would have been foolish.
What if she got dizzy or something? But the other half of her
knew Linnesse probably had other things she had to do as well,
and not just wait on her all day.

Ione began to think of all of the things she had to do: First,
to grieve for the loss of her child, then to treat herself to
an herbal sponge bath, then to look in on Titrus's daughters
which she looked foreward to. The rest of her day, Ione'd take
care of herself, eat a good meal, get lots of rest, and relax
at her loom by the window of her shop, or by the fire...

Ione could not help but worry for her dear friend, and she
knew where her thoughts would be until he returned safely home
to the fort...
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: Unicorn
Date: Mon Nov 03, 2008 12:25 pm
Mirtha


Vanora
 
"Wait here and I'll order you your regular.... eggs, a
slab of meat and bread with honey, right? Or would you
like something else?"


Mirtha smiled a little and looked at her as she pured some of
the ale in front of him.

"No... thank you Vanora, it' should be fine"

The next thing she said Mirtha did not expect... Yes, Vanora
was running the tavern and was known of talking with lots of
people around. It was in fact a part of her job, really. But
she had not asked him before about him like that.

Vanora
 
"Well, if you need to get something off your chest, I am
always willing to listen..."


Mirtha frowned slightly. About what would she willing to hear?
About his drinking problem? About that he had been drunk while
making love to Ione? That he came to her and made love to her
afterwards? That it could be the reason of loosing her child?
Would she like to listen about details of Ione's miscariage?
Mirtha lowered his gaze and took mug full of ale, took sip of
the liquid and after that there was no sign of smile upon his
face only stern expression.

"Vanora... Have you ever had a feeling that you do everything
wrong?" he asked after a second, not completely feeling
comfortable with talking about it , but he cast a look upon
Vanora. His question was serious one.
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: Elessars Girl
Date: Mon Nov 03, 2008 1:33 pm

Arthur


Tristan had not had any further information to add and thus
Arthur had only nodded his head in gratitude for what the
scout had already disclosed before the three men continued on
across the courtyard. Arthur, thinking on the time, glanced up
at the sun’s location in the sky overhead….nearly midday
already. Then the Commander turned his focus towards the group
gathered at the stables, he deeply exhaled and began to
mentally prepare for the ride to Merlin. Lancelot had remained
steadily keeping pace at his side while Tristan had moved on
ahead. Scipio, Bors, Jols and others were there presumably
awaiting Arthur’s arrival….as was Darya….the mother of my
child. God, give me guidance and God watch over them both.

At a firm tug on the straps of his pteruges, Arthur pivoted
‘round to face Lancelot – this would be the ‘farewell’ that
the Roman had known would come from his lieutenant. And
judging from Lancelot’s rigid body language, he was not going
to make this easy on Arthur. It was a rare occurrence when
Arthur rode out from the fortress without Lancelot at his
side….and despite carefully weighing the pros and cons before
deciding to leave his lieutenant behind, it was still both
difficult and unnerving for the Commander. But it was the best
arrangement for Lancelot’s own good. Thus Arthur prepared to
once again defend his decision.

Lancelot
 
"You should have given that order days ago, rest assured
I will carry it out to the letter……and by the gods, but
I am foul."


Arthur slightly canted his head in full agreement on both
statements, although the Commander’s expression remained stoic
even when Lancelot laughed in the end. The sun was somewhat in
the other man’s eyes…but that did not blind Arthur to
Lancelot’s emotions – there was something simmering beneath
the surface and behind the other man’s narrowed gaze.

Lancelot
 
"If you don't come back - you have two days. And then
Merlin's head will belong to me."


“Fine,” Arthur acknowledged what he had already known to be
true before Lancelot had verbalized his intentions. The
Commander’s hands involuntarily flexed at his sides and he
ignored the dull ache in his abdomen. And just as Arthur had
thought to continue on to the stables….

Lancelot
 
"Don't leave me in this place alone, Artos."


And there it was again, Lancelot appeared to be open – bare –
before Arthur’s eyes.

What?

Do not do this, Lancelot.

Not right now.

Arthur closed the small cold space between them by taking a
single step towards Lancelot. Anger, wounded pride and
foulness permeated from the other man’s every pore. And
Arthur’s steely composure fell away as liquid green eyes met
troubled amber orbs – exposed in a rare moment of
vulnerability again. The Sarmatian’s injured eye appeared to
focus on Arthur accusingly; Lancelot’s cheek was stained with
dried blood from a cut that had thus far gone untreated….and
he smelled of the earth, and blood and sweat and….pain.

“Lancelot….” Arthur said the other man’s name quietly while he
reached up to grasp at Lancelot’s untrimmed bearded jaw.
“…wash, fill your belly and tend to yourself in my absence, or
I will do it myself upon my return,” He continued for
Lancelot’s ears only and as luck would have it, his broad
frame and height concealed the gesture of care from those at
the stables. Arthur’s hand then shifted from his lieutenant’s
jaw to press open palmed over Lancelot’s chest – at the base
of his throat and over the pendant that the Roman knew was
there beneath the other man’s clothing. I will not abandon
you.

Arthur opened his mouth as if to add something more - a more
intimate sentiment perhaps - but no words came, and thus his
mouth closed again; lips forming a small smile that also made
the corners of his weary eyes crinkle in a way that only
Lancelot ever witnessed. The bond between them that had been
forged years before – before Darya and before that night
seemed to have strengthened again in this moment. Yet, Arthur
removed his hand from Lancelot’s chest and began to turn
away….from the one who knew him best. Now was not the time to
focus on private matters – now was the time to fight for peace
for all of those in Arthur’s charge. The fight for his heart
would come later.

Love has taught me how to lie….life has taught me how to die.

The poignant exchange had happened in only the briefest of
moments, but it had felt like an eternity for Arthur.
Something had passed between he and Lancelot…it had been a
fleeting thing – floating away on the icy wind as it whipped
at Arthur’s long crimson cloak in the wake of his
footsteps…..but the sensation had reached out and gripped at
Arthur’s hardened heart with the strength of ten thousand
warriors…or was it the stab of ten thousand swords?

Yet Arthur walked on, head held high and without conscience effort on his part, once again appearing every bit the Roman Commander he would be remembered as for all the ages.

“Optio…..men,” Arthur’s tone firm and ‘official’ as he gave
the first nod of acknowledgement to Scipio out of respect to
the man’s rank and then briefly looked to each man in the
group readying to follow the Commander on this mission for
peace. He approached his mount Casti first, pleased to find
his great white war horse fully prepared for the ride. Jols
was an exceptional squire. The stallion welcomed his master
with a soft snort and bowed head, immediately nuzzling at
Arthur’s open hand. He briefly rubbed at the magnificent
animal’s nose and then stepped around to give a final check on
his tack.
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: Pinkie
Date: Mon Nov 03, 2008 2:17 pm
Saoirse


Saoirse was about ready to bring Dagonet to the baths. She had
remained relatively quiet whilst he ate, pondering his
question. Was it truly what shewanted to do? Or was it guilt
and need that bid her to turn her hand at healing? She could
not deny that she enjoyed reading of the herbs and was
comfortable in the knowledge of what she had read thus far.
Perhaps she could do more than just heal though... perhaps she
could use that herb-lore for other things. Like... candles. Or…

The Irish woman shook her head and frowned, trying to focus on
the here and now. Dagonet had finished eating and was about
ready to stand. Saoirse stood by him and smiled down at him,
her hand at his elbow, ready to lend assistance should he need
it. Not that she could hold the weight of him if he were to
fall. She was banking on him knowing if he would fall and
sitting before it happened.

Linnette
 
"Father...I wondered if I could ask you something,"


The familiar voice startled Saoirse. Her head whipped up and
she looked over in surprise that Linnette was back again, and
so soon. It took a moment for her feelings to turn from
bewilderment to pity and selfish dread at being faced with the
widow again. Quietly Saoirse cleared her throat and looked to
Dagonet with her eyebrow cocked, coaxing him to speak.

Dagonet
 
"I was just actually... Sure... What is it?"


Saoirse scratched at her forehead idly and plopped back down
onto the chair, her hand on Dagonet's knee protectively as she
looked up at Linnette. She saw Mari behind her and gave a
surprised lift to her eyebrows.

"Mari." she greeted the girl. The last time she had seen her
was when they had buried Rafe's girl, Adrianna. Saoirse
couldn't fathom why Linnette was towing the girl around with
her and so turned her chilly blue eyes up to the woman,
wondering what was so important that had her eyes so bright,
her cheeks flushed with vitality and life. She hardly seemed
the same woman who had been tehre the night before.







Amadeus

Arthur paused and turned back to Lancelot. Amadeus tilted his
head to the side to try and see what was passing between the
men but they were too far away and Arthur's broad, armoured
shoulder blocked the view regardless. Clearing his throat, the
Optio glanced over at Darya, watching the dark-haired woman
watch the Commander. He wondered what she thought of Arthur's
leadership and his relationship with the First Knight. The two
men were as close as brothers - did that affect her? Did it
make her jealous?

Something to ponder on during their ride forth, Amadeus mused
to himself, looking back at Arthur.

When the Commander stepped away from his Knight the Optio
tilted to the side again to see Lancelot. His eyes visibly
widened to see the bruises on his face that were not there the
day before. The cuts and scrapes on his face were rather
vicious looking! A suitable punishment for some transgression?

And then it clicked.

Amadeus' lips pulled upwards in a smile which he quickly
turned to Arthur so the Commander would not think he found
Lancelot's bruised face amusing - though he did... mightily.

Arthur
 
“Optio…..men,”


"Commander Castus. We are ready to ride on your command."
Amadeus intoned, not mounting his horse yet but waiting until
Arthur did. He still had a lopsided, easy smile on his face as
his grey eyes flickered back to Lancelot and his bruised face.
Well, well... Arthur had seen it fit to punish his second in a
very personal manner then. How it must have rankled them both!
And Amadeus took pride in knowing that he was at the heart of
that rot between Commander and Knight. Lancelot had brought it
on himself, of course.

But then, Amadeus looked back across at Arthur and wondered to
himself... would the Commander be so brutal to Lancelot? He
had shown nothing but favour to the wild Sarmatian. Why would
he then physically harm him like this? And to leave the marks
for all to see?

Yet Amadeus could not figure out how the Knight had had no
bruises the last time he had seen him and now he had. There
had been no fighting that he had heard of reported. So it must
have been Arthur...

"It is a fine day for riding. The cold overnight will have
hardened the ground for our passage." he commented
knowledgably with an easy smile on his lips, looking every bit
the casual and friendly Optio that he wasn't.
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: lady ione
Date: Mon Nov 03, 2008 3:00 pm
Vanora and Adian


Mirtha
 
"No... thank you Vanora, it' should be fine"


Vanora nodded, "Should only be a moment then." She took a
quick scan of the tavern hoping to see Bors yet this morning,
but she had not seen her lover yet. Looking back at Mirtha,
Vanora went to the kitchen, told the cook of Mirtha's order.
The moment the cook heard Mirtha's name, she knew exactly what
to make as it was the same thing he ordered all the time.
While Vanora waited for the food, she could not help but
notice how downcast the stable master looked. Any other day,
he'd be coming in smelling like he had already been to the
tavern...

"Here ya go then," the cook handed Vanora the plate of food.

"Thank you," Vanora smiled and returned to the bar with the
hot plate of food. As she set it down, his demeanor had not
changed: sullen as a clam in winter. "Here ya go. That should
make ya happy...I know food makes any man happier.... though
it won't take away those battle wounds you have." The frown on
Mirtha's face seemed pasted there as he lowered his gaze to
the tankard of ale. When he finally spoke, Vanora gave the man
her attention...

Mirtha
 
"Vanora... Have you ever had a feeling that you do
everything wrong?"


"Sometimes...yes," Vanora offered a slight smile. "Everyone is
not perfect, Mirtha. We all make mistakes." She said nothing
else as there was no other explanation to give to the
question. If everyone had been born perfect, the world would
have been a boring place. As sullen as he was, Vanora did not
want to press him too much as he was known for his temper
unless he had a few drinks under his belt. She raised an
eyebrow ready to listen, but also not asking 'why do you ask'.
No doubt the man had gotten into a scrap with one of the
stable boys.




After seeing the ghost, Adian had decided to head over to the
tavern and get something to eat as he had not had much since
yesterday. Or perhaps just something to drink would be better.

He entered the abode and walked over to the bar next to the
man he had met yesterday...uh...Mirtha wasn't it? He nodded a
head at Vanora, and pointed his chin toward the ale, "I think
I need a drink, Vanora." His voice shook as well as his
hands....as a matter of fact, his whole body trembled.

"What's up, Adian?" The tavern manager asked curiously. She
could not recall the young man ever coming in and just asking
for a drink. Vanora poured it anyway, and set the tankard in
front of him. Adian was shaking so hard that he spilled some
on the counter, and finally was able to take a drink. He
looked over at Mirtha, then at Vanora and said softly,
'Saw...a damned ghost...it...it was Thorn....' He couldn't say
anything more as he was more intent on just drinking and
calming his nerves that way.

Vanora did believe in the supernatural, but had never seen a
ghost, so she had no reason to disbelieve Adian. She shot a
glance at Mirtha, "What do you make of it?"









Brendyn

Brendyn had spoken his mind where Karl was concerned, and when
he had finished, he turned back to attention fixing his eyes
on the Commander who was fast approaching. No, he did not want
trouble, but he felt as though this Karl fellow was out to get
him in trouble...

Amadeus
 
"Enough!" "Your Commander is present."


Arthur
 
“Optio…..men,”


He knew he could have gotten in trouble just for speaking his
mind to Karl. He looked down briefly at the fingers on his
left hand that had been broken as a punishment for speaking
out. Antonius had not allowed him to see a healer as he felt
that a lasting reminder would be the best punishment. The two
fingers had not healed right and were slightly crooked... very
slightly. That did not prevent him from fighting or using
weapons, but they had been a solomn reminder compliments of
Antoinus.

Now, his face was forward and watched with pride as Arthur
entered the stables, and saluted the men assembled. Brendyn
returned the salute, and in that moment, he had forgotten all
that Karl had said. This was what he was trained to do, and
he'd do it to the best of his abilities. He continued to face
forward watching the Commander and the horse greet each other,
then he checked the tack. Brendyn could not recall ever having
seen one so white as that horse, and he wondered at what breed
it might be.

Brendyn's eyes roved to where Darya and Tatiana were waiting,
and almost felt like saying something more to the Sarmatian...
wanting to thank her for the advice and the relaxed talk they
had had. She had been gentle and kind, and he hoped to talk
with her again soon. She did seem to be watching the
Commander, but Brendyn counted it as just wanting to see him
off safely. A lot of women did that, or at least in the other
forts he had been at, women seemed to flock about the troops
before a battle or mission. He left his eyes move to the Optio
who also greeted Arthur...

Amadeus
 
"Commander Castus. We are ready to ride on your
command." "It is a fine day for riding. The cold
overnight will have hardened the ground for our
passage."


As the Optio greeted Arthur, Brendyn Waited patiently for the
mission to start. It made him feel more at ease knowing that
Titrus, Bors, Tristan, Jols and Quintus were all coming along
as well. In his mind, Brendyn began to go through all that he
had been taught concerning what to do in worse case scenarios
as his ex Commander had taught him to....
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: Pinkie
Date: Mon Nov 03, 2008 4:26 pm
Catherine


Very tender, very sweet.

The Captain ordered some tea for them both and the serving
wench went off in a slight huff. Catherine might have felt
amused by the obvious jealousy in the woman's tone if she had
not been so focussed on her current project. And he was really
rather pleasing to watch too.

The blonde tilted her head to the side and smiled when the man
lifted her hands to his face and blew gently. Her fingers gave
an appreciative twitch inwards, brushing the underside of his
chin briefly before relaxing once more, feeling warmed. The
moment held very still around them - the crackle of the fire,
the sound of droning voices by the bar, the whish of wind
outside.

Malcus
 
"Some things you may have heard about me, I'm probably
famous for, it depends on what you heard and whom you
heard it from. From my men, you may have heard that I
command them with a hard and heavy authority. That is a
truth. From my lovers, you may have heard that I left
them satisfied and purring for my return. That is a
truth too, my lady. Now tell me. Which one did you
hear?"


Catherine listened with intent. She knew precisely who she had
heard what from but was curious to see if he would hide
anything from her. And he didn't seem to. She gave a coy
smile, her lips parting in silent appreciation when he kissed
the back of her hand. His eyes had pinned her and she could
give away her entire heart and soul so easily - but instead
she looked down at his large, grubby hands holding hers and
lifted a sweet shoulder to her ear.

"Both." she told him truthfully, then smiled quite suddenly, a
flash of amused teasing in her eyes when she looked back into
his dark eyes. She parted her lips to ask him a question when
the wench returned, leaving the tankard of tea on teh table,
cups for them both clattered onto the wooden top and she
walked off. Catherine glanced at her retreating back and gave
a snicker of amusement. She pulled one hand back to cover her
mouth as she gave a soft laugh, shaking her head.

"I think she has heard the whisperings from your lovers,
Captain - and she thinks me unworthy of such a man." Catherine
mused, delicately draping her hand back into the Captain's as
she sidled in a little closer to him. She straightened her
finger out on one hand, allowing the backs of her fingers to
touch the inside of his wrist softly. "Is there more to the
Brute than whispers then I wonder..." she said wistfully, not
looking at his face but staring adoringly at his hands.









Smith

Kayley
 
"Oh, Scáth, of course. My valiant protector, Well, at
least you admit it."


Of course he admitted it. Smith was teh first to admit his own
flaws and failures. He was modest amongst all his other
virtues. He was terrible because he knew that there were many
who would be his companions or lovers and yet he shunned them
all, favouring his own company or that of his horse above all
others. Kayley knew this too. It was not a bad thing, to him.
It was just a way of life - a habit he had formed and found
comfort in. It was not a reflection of his opinion on the
others - it was simply his way.

Kayley
 
"Micah? Are you not talking to me, Micah? I wish you
would, you know..."


Smith cocked an eyebrow at the sweet tone that the woman used.
He looked half over his shoulder at her and snorted in mild
amusement, shaking his head. Surely she knew that her tone and
suggestion would be a torture to the poor man trailing them.
The dark eyed woad turned to look over his shoulder
completely, scanning those following in their footprints for
Micah. He had to look back to the front again as another
drooping tree threatened to knock him off his horse - so he
focussed on the path instead of the people.

Kayley
 
"No, no...that was Colin, I think...Roan made me that
carving of the bear and - Oh, really? Do I now? And, I
suppose that you, Smith, know of someone much more
tasteful for me than those other men?"


The woman took a little while to think about his question and
Smith had almost forgot the asking of it when she answered
him. He held his breath as she started to speak, not realising
the barb in his words until half way through her explanation.
When she did realise she pinched him. Smith breathed a gasping
laugh, twisting to the side to avoid her pinch but it only
hurt his collarbone to do so. He hissed a pained breath and
crossed one arm over his body, a hand to his shoulder and a
flicker of agony darkening his features.

He hunched his shoulders a little and let his breathing even
out a little, sighing as Kayley asked him if he had anyone in
mind for her. The young woad's dark eyes sparkled as he looked
over his shoulder at her. His look was considering, dazzling
in it's intensity - it was enough to stop a woman's heart
beating. His eyelids drooped a little, lazily, sultry - and he
knew it. He then took a deep breath and looked back to the
front, quiet a moment before he spoke in a low, husky tone -

"You don't need any of them, Kayley. Not Colin, not Roan - not
even me. You're tougher and stronger than the lot of us." he
told her, clicking his tongue as he directed Scáth to the
left, down a narrow pathway through the forest.
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: TwistOfShadows
Date: Mon Nov 03, 2008 4:49 pm
Eyla


Eyla was bored. Where on earth had all the men gone? She could
not find Arthur, and that was a disaster. Teasing the
Commander was one of her favourite past times, and now he
disappeared without a goodbye? Eyla was deeply hurt, and
pouted all the way round the fortress. Her slippered feet
brushed Badon’s floors like a silken kiss against barren land.
She was deeply feminine, and walked rather petulantly. She
swung her hips like a trained whore, and lifted her eyebrows
at any passerby who dared look in her direction. Anyone was
easy prey today, and she sought the weaker ones. Yes, they
were easier to please and she could toy with them. They did
not get annoyed with wordplay, infact they found Eyla the most
intriguing and lovely woman they’d ever met. It did not matter
that she took money for pleasure, that was a small detail. She
was expensive. She could give hedonistic satisfaction and a
little affection. If needs must, and the price was worthy...

Her wanderings took her to the stables...but she passed them
without hesitation. Horses were often filthy animals, and not
in the good way. And besides, she was wearing a lightly
coloured dress that did not bode well with dirt and hay. Her
dark hair fell in velvet strands about her revealed and
swollen breasts, and she tugged her bodice down a little...for
effect. Glancing down, a feline smile slipped across her
rouged lips, and she kept on walking. A gentle hum escaped her
lips, and she twirled a full circle as she walked. Oh, but it
was childish! Delightfully so, and her eyes brightened at the
idea of childish play.

She did like to play.

The whore spotted the knight’s training arena, and furrowed
her brows lightly. Now there was always a good hunting ground
for the...agreeable men. But the dirt on the floor? Without a
second thought, Eyla hitched up her skirts to her knees, and
entered the arena. It sounded quiet, almost empty, but there
was someone there, someone she had often viewed appreciatively
from a distance. Galahad. And what a fine picture he made! He
was younger than the other knights, but his appearance was
petulant like her own. She had often admired his dark curls.
They were different to Lancelot’s, more youthful...and gosh,
the knight was always grumpy! That was definitely a sign of
lack of amusement, a lack of a woman to warm his bed...

Galahad was about to mount his horse, and Eyla stepped into
the centre of the arena, still holding her skirts around her
knees. She flashed him a pretty smile from behind and spoke,
purred.

“Galahad Galahad Galahad, what a mighty fine horse you have.
Almost as visibly pleasing as yourself...” Eyla laughed
softly, and several beautiful curls fell about her face. She
released one side of her skirts and lifted her finger to her
mouth, sucking the nail softly. “Don’t you dare let me
distract you from your brooding, I find it quite
attractive...”
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: Pinkie
Date: Mon Nov 03, 2008 5:08 pm
Galahad


Galahad was entirely unaware that he was being watched. He
lifted one foot to stirrup and paused, placing a hand on his
side to test the wound there. All the brushing and effort that
had gone into shining the horse's coat had not pulled the
wound loose, it would be a mighty shame if mounting his horse
did. The young knight placed his foot back on the ground and
went around the other side. He lifted his foot again and this
time it felt a little better on his side. He placed a hand to
the pommel of the saddle and huffed in a breath in preparation
to hefting himself up into the saddle when someone spoke,
quite taking him by surprise.

Eyla
 
“Galahad Galahad Galahad, what a mighty fine horse you
have. Almost as visibly pleasing as yourself... Don’t
you dare let me distract you from your brooding, I find
it quite attractive...”


The young knight glanced over his shoulder, hand and foot
still to saddle, and looked across the hazy arena to the
speaker. He narrowed his eyes, the pale, noon-day sun scouring
through the haze of dust-motes to create a fog between him and
her. He knew it wasn't Alina and for that he was grateful. He
had no desire to face his estranged woman right now. For a
moment he thought perhaps it was Darya as he had seen her
outside a moment ago - but no, the tone was all wrong. And
what she said was entirely unlike Darya.

Galahad felt his cheeks give a boyish blush at the compliment
and he frowned even deeper. When she told him not to let her
distract him from his brooding he became even more ruddy and
indignant.

"I'm not brooding." he muttered petulantly, shrugging off her
looks and turned back to the horse. He went to lift himself
into the saddle but it tugged his side wound something
terrible and cursed under his breath as his booted foot hit
the floor again. Gritting his teeth, aware that his movements
were being watched by some stranger woman, Galahad steeled
himself to pain as he pulled hismelf into the saddle - third
time lucky.

Once atop the grey, she gave a few firm stomps, dancing
sideways as Galahad gathered the reins and clicked his tongue
in mild rebuke to her way-ward movements. The grey stilled but
flared her nostrils in mild displeasure. Galahad was side on
to the woman who had spoken to him so he turned his head to
look at her, leaning his head forward to try make her out. A
cloud crossed the sun and lessened the foggy effect of the
dust motes, allowing Galahd to see who it was who spoke to
him. And yet he did not know her still.

"Who are you? How do you know my name?" he asked each stupid
question in a surly tone, knowing the answers already.
She's a whore and she knows your name because you are one of
Arthur's Sarmatian knights you witless imbecile, the Sarmatian
chastised himself. He cleared his throat and his nose twitched
in mild annoyance when he realised he was just setting himself
up to be mocked by her for had she not already taken to
teasing him about his horse, his apperance and his mood?

"Go away." he said finally, bowing his head and turning his
horse around, tugging the reins lightly to lead the beast in a
circle at a slow walk.
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: TwistOfShadows
Date: Mon Nov 03, 2008 5:57 pm
Eyla


Eyla watched the knight carefully, awaiting any hint of his
preferences. She could not deny her excitement, because this
was her favourite moment. It was now that she discovered what
they wanted, and how they liked it. The whore lived for the
anticipation, the tension that surrounded her encounters with
men. The tension was more memorable than the deed. And it did
not take long to seduce a man, because Eyla knew she was
beautiful. Her hair was curled around her small and pretty
face, and her lashes were long and sultry. She pulled her lips
into a sweetened smile, and sucked her fingertip gently,
provocatively. The rafters above them darkened her skin into a
golden silk, and the dust flittered down between them onto the
ground. It was a perfect setting, and Eyla was enjoying
herself. Her raised skirts allowed the sight of her shapely
and tanned legs, but her eyes retained a mischievous
innocence. She was cheeky, but ever playful...

Galahad turned, and Eyla smiled still. She spoke...and
he...blushed? Oh, but it was a lovely thing, and Eyla’s lips
widened into a greater smile. It was her job to please
another, and she did it well. The Knight continued frowning,
but she cared not. Men were more miserable than women, no?
Galahad had the shadow of death hanging over his every deed,
and he wasn’t a free man. Terrible, just terrible. Eyla almost
sympathised with his plight, almost. It was his own fault for
being caught in Rome’s net, but Eyla was there to make the
experience more rewarding. She offered a warm bed, pleasure
for a price...and it must certainly make a change from
bloodshed and smelly horses...

Galahad
 
"I'm not brooding.


Galahad turned back to his horse, and Eyla dropped her skirts.
Well, he wasn’t phased by her good looks and charm then? Pity.
The whore parted her lips to speak, but paused. The knight did
not mount his horse easily, and Eyla found herself giving a
pitiful stare. He wouldn’t be much use in battle like that!
Did Arthur know? She could tell him, but that would be cruel.
No, she would play the...caring type. Yes, perhaps that would
be more appealing to the grumpy ones...

Galahad
 
"Who are you? How do you know my name? Go away."


Go Away?

Eyla could not help it, she laughed. Her lips parted in joyful
indignance, and she watched the knight walk his horse around
her. Rejection was oddly exciting, especially when she knew he
was just being stubborn. The woman stood up taller, seemingly
unphased by his attitude towards her. She raked a thin hand
through her hair, mussing it up and still smiling towards him.
She lifted an admonitory finger in his direction, and tutted
loudly.

“You don’t mean that. And if you do? You have offended me
greatly, and I shall stay until I learn how I displease
you...” Eyla smiled, and winked playfully at the moody knight.
Without hesitation, she approached him on his horse. She
turned and walked alongside horse and rider, and spoke again,
completely cheerfully. Her face was animated as she spoke, and
she lifted her hands with each word. “My name is Eyla, but you
can call me whatever you like. Whatever pleases you.” She
smiled up at him, and giggled again. “And you are Galahad of
Sarmatia. I know this, because I am a friend of your
Commander’s. Therefore you must be nice to me!”

Eyla spoke playfully, rebuking his ill manners and attempting
this strange friendship. She did not use Arthur as a
bargaining chip, no, quite the opposite. Eyla wanted to wipe
that frown from his moody little forehead, and she would work
for it. Happily.

“Tell me Galahad, what makes you so miserable that you turn me
away without giving me a chance? I feel unwanted!” Eyla mocked
upset, pressing a hand to her heart...
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