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| November 2008 | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: May 16 2010, 03:48 AM (3,056 Views) | |
| golden_trillium | May 18 2010, 02:21 AM Post #31 |
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Author: Starbelle Date: Mon Nov 03, 2008 6:27 pm Tayala After a thorough brushing down and feeding of the gray horses in the stall, Tayala remembered the instructions that the Optio told her and slipping a training bridle with blinders on over the head and velvety nose of the taller of the two mounts before leading her out then pausing to close the half-door of the stall hearing a clicking noise as the door latch closed securely behind them keeping the smaller horse safely inside. "There's a good girl." She said to the horse, giving her a sugar cube with a gentle pat to the side of the mare's neck before they entered the indoor arena for the mare's exercise. I don't think that the Optio would mind my giving her a few treats, as he didn't say that I could or couldn't. Looking around to see who else was there, Tayala saw a gent that looked a few years older than she, riding a silverygrey horse with an oddly-dressed woman talking to him, and although she couldn't hear or make out their conversation, he gave off the impression that he just wanted to be left alone. Starting the circuit around the arena, the young stable-girl kept the reins securely in one of her little hands to keep the mare's head as she remembered him telling her that she was high-strung which was why she chose to use the blinders. Before coming around into their space, she called out a very friendly and cheery hello to them both before continuing on her circuit around the arena. |
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| golden_trillium | May 18 2010, 02:23 AM Post #32 |
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Author: Lancelot Date: Mon Nov 03, 2008 6:32 pm Lancelot Oh, how Lancelot hated to make a fool of himself. And yet, here he was again, foot in mouth quite proper, as he waited, squirming inwardly, hesitant to admit he wanted Arthur to be as hurt as he was, but knowing the thought to be as false as his own heart right then. And then the Roman touched his face, and despite his intention to jerk away - how dare he touch Lancelot now - the knight's eyes merely narrowed, and he remained still.
Lancelot opened his mouth to retort smartly; it was fine when he commented on his own smell, but Arthur...and then, again, the other man dropped his hand from Lancelot's battered face to press briefly over the pendant that was hidden by the Sarmatian's jerkin. A lightning bolt of pain? regret? love seemed to Lancelot to arc from the commander's rough skin directly to Lancelot's heart, and he was instantly, annoyingly, wonderingly breathless. Arthur smiled tiredly at him, but spoke no more, and Lancelot bit his lip and finally recrossed his arms over his chest, shoring himself up against the biting wind, and protecting himself from further want or pain if Arthur should choose to touch him again. Thank the gods, but the Roman turned and made his way, posture straight and stride normal, to the group of soldiers and knights that were to ride out to Merlin. Lancelot took a step forward; he had never not seen Arthur out (on the few time he'd left Lancelot behind), but caught a glimpse of the Optio, who seemed to be watching him. It was a brief look, but it raised Lancelot's hackles and the bruises on his face began to throb. He could acutely feel the arrow wound in his arm and his swollen eye was barking at him again. He canted his head away from the Optio and saw - Darya. Holding Tristan's hawk, and looking as fetching as ever as she waited patiently to get her turn with the commander. Tristan would be a noble representative of the knights. Arthur had said his peace to Lancelot, and Lancelot feared his own reaction if he were to go to the gathering. So for the first time in his many years of being Arthur's second, he made sure his sword belt was as tight as possible, and he turned his back on the assemblage of travelers and quit the courtyard. He was officially in charge now. don't leave me in this place alone Lancelot's empty stomach rumbled mightily, and even though he felt more nausea than hunger, he squared his shoulders, his posture erect and his neck held stiffly and proudly, and turned toward the tavern, away from perhaps the last sight he'd have of his closest friend. Gods of my ancestors - let him return. He had no idea what he'd do if Arthur returned, but he knew one thing - he would take charge of this place like a whirlwind as Arthur had asked him to, and he would deal with the annoyance of ...love when the other man showed his face again. This dog is not finished with you yet. Artos. My friend. He entered the tavern, and settled himself at an empty table, and attempted to flag down a serving girl. Finding Derfel could wait a few moments. He was damned well hungry, and would be fucked if that Saxon and the needs of that Woad girl came before his own. Accepting the stew and bread the buxom wench brought him, he tucked in slowly, glad to see the ale she brought on her second trip. His eyes dropped to the food, and he ignored Catherine and Barbattus in the corner - he wasn't ready to face her yet, and Arthur's old friend? No way in any kind of Hell. His gut clenched as he ate, taking small bites and washing the meal down with plenty of alcohol. He could hold his own. He would be fine. He would be - alone. |
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| golden_trillium | May 18 2010, 02:24 AM Post #33 |
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Author: TwistOfShadows Date: Mon Nov 03, 2008 6:56 pm Guinevere and Ceinwyn Guinevere of Briton felt the cold wind on her face. It bit hard against her cheekbones, and she opened her lips to it, tasting home. Leaves rustled vehemently around her small form, and she looked upwards sharply, quickly. Her dark eyes were wide and bright, and her brown hair curled softly out of its bonds. The Woad did not shiver, not even a flicker. She was still in the depth of the woodland, appreciating a moment’s solitude. Guinevere rose slowly from her crouching position in the undergrowth, and brushed the dirt from her blue knees. Where had the others gone? Indeed, she had fled so quickly she had no idea...and the woman cursed her own stupidity. It was irrational to wonder away from camp, at such a dangerous time. There would surely be Romans scouting the area, seeking the next foolish Woad to capture and turn to their way of thinking. It was time to return to her father, to seek the company she had missed in solemn solitude... “Guinevere. There is a small party of Woads heading back to bury the Dead. We should return before nightfall...” Ceinwyn’s voice was quiet against the reverberation of strong winds, but it was clear. Guinevere turned sharply, her lithe form twisting to seek her companion. “You followed me. Why?” Guinevere demanded. Her voice stronger than intended. Her sharp eyes fell upon Ceinwyn, stood not far away. The female Woad was filthy, and her hair matted from it’s ginger roots. She had been beautiful once, but...time. Time was more potent than any force thrown at them. It damaged, it aged, it changed people...and Guinevere felt sorry for Ceinwyn’s plight. A traitor? Some called Ceinwyn so, but she was too broken to rally against Merlin. Without realising, Guinevere’s expression had softened somewhat. She walked silently through the undergrowth, and did not wait for Ceinwyn to answer. “Come then. We must let them know we still live...” There was a dark amusement in Guinevere’s voice. Ceinwyn had not followed Guinevere, and she knew it. The Woad had been alone for a long time now, and Ceinwyn’s presence had come suddenly and without warning. Impressively spontaneous, and worthy of her father’s army. She smiled wryly at the other woman, and led the way, picking silently through the trees. A brambled bush caught at her legs, but Guinevere paid it no heed, not even when a slow trickle of blood travelled down her shin. They moved onwards. The darkness would come quickly that night, and Guinevere would rather be with the others. She needed the assurance that everything was well... The path was long, but the Woad women travelled quickly and with haste. Guinevere took to the trees. The rough bark against her hand was a comfort, it made her feel alive. Each branch seemed ready for her, each trunk twisted into an area welcoming a woman’s foot. The Woad glanced down to Ceinwyn, following on the ground. She moved well in the undergrowth, and avoided all obvious pathways within the woodland. Roman horses could pass easily through several parts of the forest, but here? The trees were closer together, and the undergrowth and leaves were sharp and tighter. It was not a pleasing route for the civilised, but for Woads? For the free? Ceinwyn looked up at Guinevere, and the woman gestured ahead. There were voices ahead, but nothing loud...and certainly not Roman. Guinevere gestured Ceinwyn to stop, raising one hand into the air. She removed a dagger from her boot, and placed it firmly between her lips...moving forwards. Guinevere saw them beneath her. She crouched down on her branch, and squinted through the trees. She recognised her own brethren, and breathed a sigh of relief. The blade against her lips was cold, hard, but she kept it there. There was Smith, Kayley, Nolan...and a few others. Friends. British Blood. Guinevere dropped down into sight. She landed firmly on her knees infront of the group, and was quickly accompanied by Ceinwyn. The two woman greeted their brethren with a nod of the head, and Guinevere slipped the dagger slowly from her lips, returning it to her boot. She turned to the two on the horse, Smith and Kayley, and spoke firmly to them. “We have been gone too long, but the road is longer. Tell me, what news?” Guinevere stood tall beside the horse, and glanced around at their party. It was a small one, but enough to respectfully see their dead buried within British soil. A light breeze tussled the loose hairs around Guinevere’s face, and she looked for her father. It was wishful thinking. He was not here...but surely he was safe? |
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| golden_trillium | May 18 2010, 02:25 AM Post #34 |
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Author: Starbelle Date: Mon Nov 03, 2008 8:30 pm Gawain Remembering about Galahad's time in the infirmary, with his wound being tended to, Gawain decided to check up on his little brother. Entering the stables and heading down to the stall where he knew that the Pup kept his horse, he glanced into it and finding it empty, decided on a hunch to check out the interior arena as he knew that Gally would want to be left alone and avoid any sort of human company while he sulked just like a little boy would. Seeing Gally, his face looking like a stormcloud ready to burst walking his silverygrey horse with an overly dressed woman next to him, and a stable-girl walking another gray colored horse around the ring, he called out to him. "Galahad, there you are. I've been looking everywhere for you." Gawain called once he was within speaking distance to him as he didn't want to draw anymore attention to the younger knight than there already was. Glancing over at the finely dressed woman next to him, he nodded polietly at her commenting. "Aren't you a little bit overdressed for the arena, lady? You'll get your pretty dress all dirty." Then returned his attention back to his little brother. Tatiana Seeing Arthur arrive in his Roman finery and walk up to the white stallion and not realizing that he was the Commander that everyone had been talking about, Tatiana turned her head sideways where Darya stood. "Darya, who is he?" She whispered quietly but curiously to her new friend. "I've never seen him before, didn't know that he was so tall." Then glancing around, saw another gent that she'd never seen before. "Who's the one dressed all in black? I don't think that I've seen him before either. Is he like Tristan?" She asked curiously. "Being a stable-hand, there are so many new people that I've never met before, the only ones that I've met and do know really well are Jols, Brendyn and Adian." She said while watching Arthur. The Commander's arrival overshadowed her meeting with Amadeus and pushed it back into the shadows. NOON |
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| golden_trillium | May 18 2010, 02:30 AM Post #35 |
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Author: golden_trillium Date: Mon Nov 03, 2008 9:20 pm Linnette
Oh, by heaven...Linnette shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot, keenly aware that Dagonet and Saoirse had indeed been planning to leave the infirmary just now, and furthermore that Dagonet might consider this a very precious chance to do so, given his words of last night. He was frowning at her now, and looking disconcertingly like Gedeon frowning, except in a way that had never really been directed at her before- only at other persons or things- which only increased Linnette's unease. Saoirse's look, meanwhile, was puzzled and rather cold, though she had murmurred a soft greeting to Mari as she sat resignedly back down. God above...she couldn't just keep these two sitting here in the infirmary any longer than necessary- that just wouldn't be right. Linnette shifted the small book pointlessly to her other arm, then took a deep breath, resolving to just get through her proposal as quickly as possible. The desire for the picture still burned in her heart undimmed, but the method she was about to suggest suddenly seemed more ridiculous, more unlikely than ever...how was this ever supposed to help? "Well...listen, Father, Saoirse, I don't want to bother you," she put in hastily, raising her free hand in apology, then plunging onward. "We don't have to do anything about this now, it's just that I had this idea, and, well...it might be silly." She laughed shortly, self-deprecatingly, and shrugged sheepishly as she went on. "I was just thinking, earlier...I thought it would be rather nice to have...a picture of Gedeon." Her throat choked up again as she said the name; the usual way of things. She was venturing into totally unknown territory now, though, with her suggestion, and she firmly attempted to keep a lid on her own emotions, carefully assessing Dagonet and Saoirse for their reactions instead. "I know it seems impossible, but I met this girl, Mari..." Linnette took a short step backward, so that she and Mari were even with each other, and gestured towards the younger girl, "...who draws very well, and I thought maybe if she could get a good look at you, Father, she'd have a starting place for drawing Gedeon. It's better than nothing." Linnette fell suddenly silent, looking apprehensively from Dagonet to Saoirse, biting the corner of her lip and thoroughly expecting to be told that it wouldn't work, or that it would be too painful for Dagonet, or some other reason why it wouldn't be possible. It was a wild idea for sure- almost a fantasy, now that she articulated it. What in the world would Dagonet think- what would he say? Linnesse
"Come, then...let's go." As Sister Margaret stepped back, letting go of Ione's other arm now that she was on her feet, Linnesse looped her arm through Ione's, stepping close to her and trying to provide as much support as she could. Though compared to the wounded soldiers that Linnesse periodically had to help stand up from their beds, Ione was a light burden indeed. "We'll get you home soon," Linnesse continued in a soothing murmur as they passed through the door of the private room and out into the almost-surrealistically more busy main infirmary. A quick glance showed Linnette still in conversation with Dagonet, Saoirse, and the younger girl she had come in with- good. And Drake- not in evidence. More good. He surely wouldn't come bother Linnette in Dagonet's presence, anyway. Satisfied that that was as it should be for now, Linnesse continued ushering Ione along, and soon enough they were leaving the infirmary and passing out into the chilly winter air outside. Here Linnesse, seeing that Ione was walking well, picked up the pace a little, just for the sake of getting them out of the cold the sooner. She didn't speak, though- she found she didn't know what to say. She knew Ione wanted to keep this pregnancy- what was apparently left of it- but was having a child without a father really a joyous thing? Linnette hadn't really thought so- and she had been wedded and now respectably, if tragically, widowed. Ione was neither- wasn't that worse? Several times Linnesse was on the verge of saying something, but it never seemed right, and she always restrained herself, until suddenly they were at the door of Ione's shop and home, and it was no longer the time for small talk, but for practical conversation. "Why don't I get the fire going- you sit down," Linnesse urged Ione as they stepped through the doorway and into the outer room, where Ione had her loom and her other equipment and her wares displayed. Most of them, Linnesse noted, were quite beautiful, the now-high sun showing them off to good advantage as it streamed in the windows. "You do excellent work- that dress you gave me last night was beautiful," Linnesse now said with complete sincerity as she bent to arrange some logs in the fireplace. Tristan and Quintus
"Yeah," Tristan found himself agreeing, not even quite grudgingly, as he stood by Tirgatao's side and kicked at a small, loose stone on the ground idly. His fingers were wrapped around the horse's reign, his leg muscles half-tensed and ready to mount, but he waited, more or less patiently, for Arthur to satisfy himself of Casti's condition before mounting. The four Romans to one side of the scout, and Bors to the other, all waited likewise, attentive to their Commander's every action. But Tristan just wished they'd go! It was murder, waiting like this. Battle was preferable to waiting for one any day- that was Tristan's firm opinion. "Arthur- we going to the village if the camp's empty?" he asked suddenly, calling across the intervening space and over the backs of two horses to the Commander. He remembered Neeria's words about the village, of course- and he could get there if need be. He was confident of that- though a course of action like that might be more like walking into a lion's den, at least if they went in force. |
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| golden_trillium | May 18 2010, 02:32 AM Post #36 |
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Author: Unicorn Date: Tue Nov 04, 2008 2:46 am Dagonet He saw that Saoirse mind was somewhere far away as he prepered himself to leave the bed. He did not ask her anything nor he talked to her... She seemed deep in her thoughts and as much as he would like to know about what she was thinking, Dagonet didn't want to invide that private area.... this was not the time for it. He would ask her later. But when he wanted to stand she came closer and caught his elbow just in case. And when Linnette with the younger woman came closer Saoirse sat down and put a hand on his knee. Dagonet devoted her a few seconds, looking at her before turning his head to observe Linnette. Well, she seemed unease... Saoirse greeted the girl behind Linnette and he once more glanced upon her. Who she was? Why Linnette took her here and have Saoirse know her? From where? He looked back at Linnette and waited for her to start.
Dagonet did not interupt her while she tried to speak her mind. Her short laugh didn't change his frown at her. It was not a frown of accusation or impatience... rather of try of understanding what was this all about. He allowed her to continued patiently, not urging her to be faster.
With Gedeon's name Dagonet's frown deepened a little... and his heart beated a little faster. Would this be like that always? Would he feel heart crushing into his chest every time he hears his name? Would he always feel this endless sorrow upon hearing about his son? Dagonet oppened his mouth to say something... A picture? But how? They didn't have anything to draw from. There was no body, no face... Besides Dagonet didn't understand how he would be helpfull.. He didn't understand or seemed to forgett about one little fact about himself and his lost son.
The tall Sarmatian looked at Mari for a brief second while Linnette still talked. But when Linnette came to conclusion he found himself speachless... and surprised to no limits. Good look at him?? But he was nothing like Gedeon! He was older! Gedeon had long hair, he was shaving his head! What resemblance did he have with his death son? How the girl could drew Gedeon upon Dagonet as a model? Would it be possible? He stared upon Linnette speachless, his frown disapearing, a deep suprise upon his face and allowing the silence to flow between them. He wanted to ask firstly why, but stopped himself in time. After a moment, the tall man breathed out raising his eyebrows and looking sideways to Saoirse, searching in her face what she thought about this. But he took this under further thinking... It would be a very good thing for Gedeon's child... it would see how the father looked like. Something either Gedeon nor Dagonet had in their childhood... They grew up without a father's hand and without father's image in their mind... only some misty stories about them. Dagonet thought deeper about it... and looked back at Mari then back to Linnette. Her face was full of uncertainty... but also hope. She also needed this... Dagonet could understand. He sighed once more... and the silence grew thick around them. He cleared his throat and scrathed his neck. "Well, Linnette.... that is a surprise" he started, wincing a little at this. "I don't know if I'm so... alike him..." The tall knight grunted and looked deep into Linnette's eyes. "...there are more than few difference." His eyes went to Mari eximining for a moment if she would be able to draw minding those difference... And he thought about the fact how would he feel being a model for his death son. Uncomfortable probably... He casted one more look to Saoirse and back to Linnette. "But... if you think it's.. well.. possible anyway... and that I might help, that is... okey with me." he cleared his throat uncomfortably again. "I suppose..." he added giving Linnette a little uncouraging smile. |
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| golden_trillium | May 18 2010, 02:33 AM Post #37 |
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Author: golden_trillium Date: Tue Nov 04, 2008 10:10 am Linnette
"Really? Oh, thank you! That's wonderful!" Linnette exclaimed, giving voice to the relief washing through her at Dagonet's agreement. It was maybe a skeptical agreement, one that held back and seemed to think there was a strong possibility of this not working at all- but it was agreement nonetheless, and that was more than enough to get by on for now. Linnette's face broke into a brilliant smile of relief and joy, which settled gratefully on Dagonet for a moment before she turned, getting down to business again, beckoning Mari forward, her mind already leaping ahead to what was necessary to turn a portrait of Dagonet into a portrait of Gedeon. Something she could look at and remember, something her child could look at and know. "They really look very much alike, Mari...no, you do!" she added in protest to Dagonet, sensing more skepticism on the knight's part. "Gedeon was younger, of course- nineteen-" a catch in her voice at that; not even twenty yet. He would have turned twenty in the spring. "And he had long, very dark hair, like this-" Linnette held up her hand illustratively, indicating a point about at her jawline, where Gedeon's hair had hung on him. Straight, almost-black hair- she had loved to run her hands through it. "But the eyes- the face- very similar, really." She turned back to Dagonet, outlining his features with one hand, a few inches from his skin, with half an eye still questioningly on Mari. Was it enough? Could she do this- make a good likeness from one living relative and Linnette's incoherent, frustrated description? "Just...less sad." Linnette trailed off, meeting Dagonet's eyes now, with sympathy and shared sorrow. Did she look like that, when the name of Gedeon was mentioned- torn up inside, hurting, missing some part of herself? Linnette could only suppose that she did- she felt like that. "Do you think you can?" Her voice was much quieter now, as she looked back at Mari, then, with resignation and a certain sense of asking for permission, at Saoirse. "It doesn't have to be now, if you were leaving...but soon?" Her voice turned up in rather pathetic hope on the last word, and she found she once more had to sniff back the clogging of her throat. |
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| golden_trillium | May 18 2010, 02:34 AM Post #38 |
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Author: Darya Date: Tue Nov 04, 2008 10:23 am Darya Darya watched and listened to Arthur addressing the gathered men…and then let her dark gaze shift from one man to the next, some reacting to their Commander, others just remaining silent. The pride and perhaps also excitement that especially Brendyn’s face and posture were reflecting made the dark Sarmatian smile benignly. The young soldier seemed to lack experience and routine regarding such missions…but Darya was sure he would soon act as relaxed and calm as all the others. Shaking her head a little, the woman’s dark eyes then found Lancelot. But instead of approaching the group as well…and to maybe wait until the men were out of the gate, her countryman turned around and walked away. Darya frowned slightly at the knight’s action but then figured that a mission without him probably had a foul taste for Lancelot. No, not probably…certainly. The woman sighed and brushed a strand of long dark hair out of her face…
Tatiana’s voice distracted the Sarmatian from watching Lancelot leaving the courtyard. She glanced at the girl by her side to find out who she was talking about. When Darya noticed that the stable-hand was referring to Arthur and Lancelot, she could not help but smile faintly. “This…”, the dark-haired replied in a low voice and with a nod into Arthur’s direction, “…is Arthur Castus…our Commander…” The woman’s dark gaze lingered a bit longer than necessary on the Roman, who had managed to turn her little world upside-down way back then, and licked her lips stiffly before using her free hand to motion into the direction into which Lancelot was disappearing into. “And that is the First Knight. Lancelot…”, Darya then continued but paused at Tatiana’s question if Lancelot was like Tristan. Now that depended on the point of view for sure. Tilting her head a little, the female Sarmatian made a quiet pensive noise. “And he is Sarmatian…like Tristan. And a knight like Tristan. And yet the two are…quite different…”, she added with a slight wry grin, “…I’m sure you’ll get to know them all better one day. You’re still new to this place…so don’t worry…” With that, the dark-haired met Tatiana’s gaze again to watch the girl’s reaction to her words… |
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| golden_trillium | May 18 2010, 02:38 AM Post #39 |
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Author: Pinkie Date: Tue Nov 04, 2008 12:49 pm Galahad No he wasn't phased by her good lucks and charms. She was beautiful, delicious if he were to be honest - but Galahad was tired of women right now. He had been hurt too recently by one as pretty as this whore, and she had been a woman he had cared deeply for - loved even. The betrayal made him uncaring of another woman's beauty for all he saw when he looked down beyond the lucious lashes of this woman was the prospect of betrayal, the reminder of hurt and heartache. Galahad turned his horse away from her but was intent on making the animal walk about the indoor arena to warm her up a bit, to warm himself up a bit, to get his body back to it's normal state as soon as possible. Gentle exercise was good for that. When he had turned his back on her he heard her laugh and quickly glared over his shoulder at the woman. His dark eyes were broodingly dark, narrowed to accusing slits. His narrowed eyes boggled when she waggled a finger at him as if he were some ... some .... some wayward child! Indignant and righteous, Galahad silently fumed.
He scoffed in agonised disbelief at her words, realising that he had no way of dismissing her now. He had meant it, for her to go away - but should he tell her this then she would insist on staying to find out why he had offended her? He offended her?! By the sweat of all the god... ! She winked at him. Galahad stiffened, nose wrinkling in annoyance at her as he sauntered past her on the grey. She took to walking next to him which made the young Sarmatian roll his eyes heavenwards. The scent of her wafted up to him and the knight grit his teeth, deliberately turning his head to the side to avoid it. It was too feminine. It wasn't anything like Alina but it was feminine nonetheless. He wanted nothing to do with women, or anyone, right now.
She chirped away beside him and Galahad looked straight ahead with resigned misery. Her pace was admirable, he had to admit - and he wondered how she managed it with those skirts on. But he was not abotu togive her the satisfaction of him looking down at her. The best thing he could do was ignore her. However, her mention of Arthur made Galahad look down at her in amazement. His blue eyes were wide in astonishment and his mouth gaped like a fish. "Arthur!" he blurted out, ignoring her question as he tried to come to terms with what she implied. Oh obviously Arthur did seek out whores in his time - he was only a man after all, and a man had needs. But it was really strange for the young Sarmatian to consider his Commander, his pure and brave leader with a whore! "And you?" he pointed a wavering finger at her when he said it. He then shook his head adn looked away from her pretty face, looking ahead of him again, frowning even more now that he had fallen into her little trap. "Actually forget it, I don't want to know. That's his business." he muttered, and noticed to a noticeable sinking of his heart, that someone else was coming into the arena too. She was leading another grey, a fine-legged beast of a horse Galahad noted with a casual glance. When she called out a cheery greeting he gave a bleak grumble in response before glaring down at Eyla and squeezed his thighs, setting his horse to a brisker pace, wondering if she would bother trying to keep up. Distracted, he didn't notice Gawain's entrance until the other man spoke --
Galahad glanced over his shoulder at Gawain but continued on his circuit of the arena, wondering why he couldn't just spend some time alone. Was it too much to ask. He flexed his fingers about the leather reins and gave a snort of amusement as Gawain commented to Eyla about her dress getting dirty. "Careful Gawain. You'll offend her and she'll have to bombard you with cheery chatter as retaliation." Galahad called out grumpily, glowering at the pretty whore. Saoirse and Mari
Saoirse was quite shocked to hear what it was Linnette had thought to occupy her. She looked at Mari with wide eyes, not realising the girl had had a penchant for drawing. Mari gave an abashed smile and dipped her head, shrugging in mild embarrassment to be spoken of in such a nice way. Her dark eyes were staring at the ground, her attention focussed on the conversation but unable to meet the eyes of the tall Knight on the bed. By his nature he was not intimidating but there was something about the size and bulk of him that was a little jarring. The red head thought it shocking at first - but when she heard the desperation in Linnette's voice she felt a thick wedge form in her own throat. Despair and need colored the other woman's voice, it reverberated from her little body in waves that Saoirse, as a woman bereaved before, could sense acutely. She looked over at Dagonet, silently communicating her ambiguity on the subject, unsure if he would want to be the model for this portrait but thinking it to be a good thing for him too. She did not voice this opinion, merely waited to see if he would go along with it.
Mari heard the man's agreement and her head whipped up, delight coloring her featuers as she looked from Dagonet to Linnette to watch the hope that would certainly blossom in her face. And it did! It was magnificent to see the poor woman so illuminated, so vibrant about this. Mari couldn't remember much about Linnette from before today as she had only ever passed her briefly, but she imagined that this was how she had been before her husband had died. And Mari liked this side of Linnette! She beamed in delight and nodded her head enthusiastically about the descriptions. When teh description went to age and then about how much sadder this older man looked than his younger son Mari's humour fled. She lowered her eyes and clasped her hands in front of her stomach shyly, allowing those who had known this fallen knight to grieve for him once more. Saoirse listened to Dagonet's tone and knew her lover to be uncomfortable about this - and in hearing his acqueisance she found herself feeling a little of that discomfort. Did Linnette truly see that much of a resemblance between her dead husband and his father, Saoirse's lover? A protective, possessive flash surged through Saoirse's body, heating her right to the very core as she glanced over at Linnette who was delightedly chatting about the picture and gesturing with a hand towards Dagonet's face. She resolutely cooled her temper and quelled her jealousy before giving the auburn-haired woman a nod and small smile. "I was just about t'bring him t'the baths. I'm takin' t'his own room afterwards if he'll let me..." she said with a wry grin at her lover, knowing that his desire to be out of the infirmary was almost as ferverent as her desire to be out of there. "And you could tell me more what differences there were between them in the meantime." Mari chimed in, placing a hand on Linnette's shoulder, an undeniably infectious tone of levity and good mood to her voice, her dark eyes sparkling as she smiled at Dagonet with gratitude. She had no idea why she was so grateful to him for doing this - except that she couldn't bear to think of Linnette's earlier sadness nor bear to think of it unfolding before her again. |
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| golden_trillium | May 18 2010, 02:40 AM Post #40 |
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Author: Unicorn Date: Tue Nov 04, 2008 2:40 pm Dagonet Dagonet caught Saoirse eyes, but her look said nothing... didn't voice any oppinion on the matter. When he finally came to conclusion that he would help in this, even if it will be uncomfortable and strange Dagonet observed Linnette's face. A hope and happiness spread all over her features.
And with that joy and that smile Dagonet himself could not smile himself at his daughter in law. She was so excited about the mere thought of this all! Dagonet's heart beated a little faster. If it helped Linnette that was good... then he was willing to sit as a model.
Dagonet was smiling and shook his head as she started to explain things to Mari... He was sceptical about this, but not so much to refuse her... But when she mentioned that Gedeon was much younger... only nineteen, a smile fell from his face. Gedeon was so young. So full in his strenghts. And now he was dead, lost forever to the world. Dagonet lowered his head slowly at the thought that Gedeon was not even twenty years old... only nineteen... Whole life was before, while Dagonet was old now, a lifetime behind him. This was a very sad thought and the happiness of seeing Linnette smiling flew away. His shoulders slouched and he lowered his head.
He looked up as she brought a hand near his face. Sadness clearly all over his face, in his eyes. Her voice came into more gentle one and she gave him a meaningful look. Sympathy... Corners of his mouth twitched but he did not smile again. Yes, there was much sorrow in him, much sadness that Gedeon never had in him. Gedeon was living fully... he was happy. Dagonet was sad and lost... Now, more than ever before.
Dagonet was about to answer, but Saoirse spoke up. He was not looking at her, knowing what will she tell Linnette right now... Going to the baths and returning back to the infirmary ofcourse. He lowered his head slightly and breathed a low sigh.
Her words made him look at Saoirse in surprise. Own room? They did not talk about returning there! She was smiling at him and he smiled back... a silent thank you to her. He was tired of infirmary and lack of privacy... He was tired of laying here... His hand went to hers laying upon his knee and squeezed it slightly with a greatful look and smile.
His eyes went to the young woman beside Linnette and saw her smiling at him w much greatfull... He nodded his head slowly. And he cleared his throat inpatiently... If he was going to leave the place than better faster than later. The tall knight gathered his strenghts and started slowly to stand up. He did not stand on his own for a long time now and felt his legs weak, unsteady... but he was up. Now Sarmiatian towered over the three women around him. "So let's go then, love" he said to Saoirse and turned to Mari and Linnette. "See me in few hours in my room, alright?" |
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| golden_trillium | May 19 2010, 01:59 AM Post #41 |
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Author: Starbelle Date: Tue Nov 04, 2008 3:31 pm Gawain and Tayala Tayala, hearing his grumble of a reply, got the hint and continued on the circuit with the grey mare gently tugging the reins with a click of her tongue when she wanted to stop. "C'mon, girl. Only a little bit further, now." The young stable-girl said to the mare in a pleasant tone as they continued on their way. Gawain nodded to her pleasantly as they passed him to start the cool-down part of the walk.
"Thanks for the warning, Galahad, but I'll be fine." Gawain replied with a nod. "Lady, if you've never been around a horse before, I'd not get too close lest you make the animal nervous and a nervous horse is quite a very unpredictable one, at best." He said to her as a serious warning tone entered his voice as he was hoping to give his little brother a bit of breathing room from her. |
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| golden_trillium | May 19 2010, 02:01 AM Post #42 |
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Author: Pinkie Date: Tue Nov 04, 2008 4:30 pm Drake "'Cile? Cecile?" Drake called in an excited baritone. His red cloak whipped behind him as he walked briskly through the shady garden towards the little home that he shared with his wife. The silence was eerie and something inside the Spaniard squirmed. The excitement he felt was at odds with something else inside of him, a foreboding. That foreboding was from another time, another age - an age yet to come? The thrilling news that he had to tell his wife could not wait until he had been formally declared. The promotion meant that they would not only have more money, but that they could move - to Rome itself! Cecile would be so happy. Drake pushed open the door and his nose immediately picked up the scent of blood. His head snapped to the side and he saw the body of his middle son upon the ground, blood pooled all around his youthful corpse. "No..!" Drake groaned, that foreboding making itself felt right in the pit of his stomach. Recognising this nightmare, Drake withdrew, he turned from the house and ran back up the garden path instead of going onwards as he had done that fateful day, instead of going on to find the bodies of his other two sons similarly mutilated and then Cecile... Cecile bloodied and abandonned on their marriage bed. And Claudius, his brother in the corner weeping in a crazed murmur. The nightmare blurred. "Cile? Cecile?" Drake called out in an excited whisper. His footsteps faltered as he found himself once more on the same garden path, the same warm day, teh same shadows dancing on the ground around him. He stopped before ever reaching the door and looked up at the sky. Tears brimmed in his green eyes. "Must I ever remember this pain?" he said in a hoarse whisper, gritting his teeth. He lifted his hand to his face and looked at the bandage there. His head cocked to the side and he felt another feeling from another age, an age yet to come. Forehead creased deeply, Drake turned to look at the door of his home. Something had changed in the dream. A shadow had lifted somewhere along teh way. The Spaniard took a hesitant step forwad, reaching out his bandaged hand to the door. "Linnette?" he whispered quietly, breathlessly, "Lin?" another breathless murmur as the door opened and instead of the smell of blood there was the smell of bread. Fresh baked bread. Drake blinked his tired green eyes, feeling the sting of tears receding as he looked to the side. His middle son came bounding out of the hallway and clashed into his body, arms spread wide. Drake thought the nightmare had returned but in a different way so he presumed the boy to be hurt adn immediately reached out to grab him, sheltering his body with his own as he looked around with furious green eyes for whosoever would harm his family. "Drake! I knew it was you!" Linnette cried in delight as she too came bounding out of the hall and threw herself at him, her arms around his neck. Drake goggled visibly but had no time to react to her other than to wrap an arm about her waist too. He was rigid as she embraced him, a hand to teh back of his head, stroking the short hairs at the back of his neck. "I heard the horse and I knew it was you come back finally!" she cooed against his neck, her soft breath causing a heated stir to immediately surge through the soldiers veins. "Linnette?" Drake whispered in surprise. He pulled back and looked down at her. It was Linnette but she looked different here in his dreams - she was not so fragile looking, the creases of worry did not mar her forehead, sadness and loss did not paint her hazel eyes dark. "What .. ?" the Spaniard began, uncomprehending of what this was, of why Linnette greeted him as if they were wed. And then he realised that this was a dream. This was his dream adn that his dreams could be whatever his heart desired. His face cracked in a beaming smile and the Spaniard laughed - a great booming, joyous laugh as he wrapped both arms around his 'wife' and lifted her off her feet. His son had rnu off to get his other two sons, his youngest and eldest who yet lived, and Drake leaned his head down to Linnette, close to her face and paused. "Amazing.." he murmured. But as he dipped his face closer again, intent on kissing her warm lips he saw a trickle of blood from her ear. "No..." his voice was choked, thick with agony. A cry from his son from behind made him turn to look down the shady garden. Cecile stood there with their youngest son's dead body limp in her arms. Drake grit his teeth and pulled Linnette closer to him. Her body flopped lifelessly against his chest and Drake's head wihpped around to look into her lifeless eyes. "No!" "Cile?" Drake murmured in the waking world, reaching a hand back over his body to the bundle of blankets by the wall. His eyes fluttered open and his fingers brushed the woollen blanket. He stilled suddenly, staring across at the empty hearth. A shiver ran down his spine. An ardent need was burning in his loins but it was repulsed viciously by the dread feeling in his gut at how that nightmare had ended. "Cile.. " the Spaniard said again, an angry whisper as he tossed his legs over the side of teh bed. He sat up abruptly and rubbed his face with his hands. He bowed his head and ran his hands over the hair at the back of his neck, dispelling the feeling of that beautiful caress. "Fuck..." Drake said in an emotionless voice, lifting his eyes to peer at the bandage about his hand. Without thought he started to pull the bandage down over his fingers, yanking it off without grace. The healing scab stuck to the bandage and some of it tore away with the old material. The Spaniard hissed in pain but continued. He looked at one side his hand and then the other, marvelling at how he still had teh use of all his fingers despite how thorough a job the woad had done on him. He shook his head and walked over to the water bowl. He dipped his hand into it and turned to stare out the window mutely, glowering darkly, shadows from his past haunting the green depths of his eyes. |
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| golden_trillium | May 19 2010, 02:04 AM Post #43 |
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Author: LadyCastus Date: Tue Nov 04, 2008 9:00 pm Malcus Barbattus
Just then the barmaid returned to their table with the tankard of honey-spiced tea and noisily it them down, briefly interupting Catherine. The cups shook dangerously, threatening to tip over. Malcus looked up at the girl who rolled her eyes at him and walked away. He looked at Catherine with a smirk on his face. She seemed highly amused at the girl's apparent jealousy. Malcus gave a non-committal shrug of his shoulders and laughed. Catherine took her hand from Malcus' and covered her mouth as she gave a gave a soft laugh, shaking her head.
Catherine slid a little closer to the captain and when she let her fingers grace the soft part of his wrist, his erection reared its head, straining against his breeches. Malcus smiled, loving the feeling of the blood surging to the head of his throbbing organ. He noticed Catherine staring at his hands. "Ay my lady, but you are most worthy to waste your time on an old soldier dog like myself. Perhaps it is I who is not worthy to maintain the company of such a beautiful woman. If there is more to the Brute..well..." Malcus released her other hand and raised his hand just a few inches from her face, twirling it at the the wrist. "These hands have handled everything from the splinters of a battle ax to the creamy soft skin of a woman's inner thighs and everything....in between...." he said with a wicked smile and a subtle lick of his lips. The captain purposely stared at Catherine's bosom as he continued. "These large hands have served me well both on the battlefield and in the bedroom. My lady, you do know what the say about a man with large hands don't you?" Malcus picked up his mug and took a sip of the hot tea, wagging his eyebrows at Catherine. "Try it while it's hot," he said, smiling. Rosita and Nolan Rosita and Nolan kept a steady pace as they walked behind Scath who was carrying Smith and Kayley. Rosita's heart skipped a beat when Smith turned around and scanned those walking behind them. Was he looking for her? She almost laughed out loud when Smith turned back around quickly before a low-hanging tree branch threatened to knock him in the head. "What's funny?" Nolan asked, side-stepping a large rock. "Nothing" Rosita said, straightening up. "He's nothing but hurt. Let it be." Nolan said gruffly. "What do you mean?" Rosita asked, knowing full well what he meant. "He doesn't care about anything but that horse and himself." Rosita didn't say anything. She knew it was true. Smith was a loner. She could take him as her lover probably...maybe...but that would be it. She doubted Smith would ever settle down with anyone. Rosita pulled at her flask that hung at her waist and took a sip. She handed the flask over to Nolan who took it and sipped as well. The two walked in silence as they continued their trek through the dense wood. Neeria
"You and your companions have made it perfectly clear just how lucky I am," Neeria replied sarcastically, "but my luck doesn't really feel as good as you seem to think," the woad added. The short woman stopped again, struggling with her too-long trousers, reaching down and pulling them up while at the same time pushing back the sleeves of her large tunic. She took 3 more steps and viciously dug in her head, scratching at the maddening itches again. Neeria sneezed and wiped her nose with the back of her hand, then rushed to catch up with Neeve. "Yes, I'm lucky," Neeria said again dryly. A bird circled above them and landed on Neeve's raised arm.
"That is your bird?" Neeria asked as she tripped and had to stop and pull up her trousers again. As part of the routine, she pushed up the sleeves of the tunic as well. "I had one at my home, too. I wonder what happened to her," the woad asked, reflectively.
Neeria sighed heavily and scratched her itchy scalp again, rushing to keep up with Neeve's long strides. |
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| golden_trillium | May 19 2010, 02:06 AM Post #44 |
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Author: golden_trillium Date: Tue Nov 04, 2008 9:04 pm Linnette
"All right- we will." Linnette nodded vigorously, now having to cock her head backwards to look up into Dagonet's face. It had been like that with Gedeon, too...Linnette remembered one time when they had been walking and talking outside near the fort's outer wall- when no one else was in that street to see them- and in a sudden impulse she had jumped up onto the second stair of a flight leading up the wall to kiss him, the extra boost for her nicely evening out their heights. The sweet, pleasant memory put a reminiscent smile on Linnette's face as she looked at Dagonet- but then she quickly dropped her eyes, sneaking a guilty look at Saoirse, embarrassed at having compared the two of them so blatantly in her head. She didn't have any interest in Dagonet that way! No, not even when the resemblance between him and Gedeon was enough to break her heart. And Saoirse looked uncomfortable enough with the whole situation. Linnette shook her head slightly, as if denying the whole awkward mess to herself, then looked up again, more businesslike this time. "Take your time," she urged Saoirse, meeting the other redhead's eyes with effort, but forcing a smile nonetheless. Friendliness was essential- without Saoirse's goodwill, this portrait sitting might not happen at all. Not that Linnette wanted to antagonize Saoirse, or cause her any doubt or pain, anyway. Saoirse had been one of the first people Linnette had met in the fort, and she had always liked the redhead, even when she had not fully understood the circumstances surrounding the child whom she had borne Dagonet- and whom she had left in distant Ireland when she had returned. "And thank you," she added again, directing that to Saoirse, that time- hopefully, trying to make a connection with her with her eyes. Trying and failing, she thought. With a last flash of hopeful, pleading smile for Dagonet, Linnette turned to Mari, grateful for the girl's sympathetic hand on her shoulder, and turned to leave the infirmary for now. |
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| golden_trillium | May 19 2010, 02:07 AM Post #45 |
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Author: lady ione Date: Tue Nov 04, 2008 9:15 pm Ione
Ione was grateful for the help as she steadied herself. She still felt a bit achy and weak, but the longer she stayed in the infirmary, the more she'd remember the tragedy that occured there. Slowly, Ione stepped a bit from Sister Margaret, and leaned lightly on Linnesse making sure not to put all of her weight on the healer. The weaver was feeling anxious about getting to her shop, and just relaxing and doing everything the nun had told her to....
The weaver just kept her eyes down as she and Linnesse moved from the room and into the main area of the infirmary, then out into the fresh air. She hoped that no one noticed her as they left for she really did not feel like speaking to anyone right now... having to explain why she was there and what had happened. The chilly air made Ione shiver a bit and she placed her arms about herself, and began to move a bit steadier as they approached her shop. She had so much to get done, but the things that did need to be finished would be relaxing enough... enough to keep her relaxed and free from worry. She reminded herself to look in on Titrus's daughters later this afternoon... perhaps a nice tea and some conversation. As they stepped through the doorway, and Linnesse had closed it behind them both, Ione looked about her to make sure everything was as it had been. She went over to her favorite chair and sat slowly down in it taking in a deep breath as she did so...
Dark eyes watched as the healer went to build a warm fire in the fireplace. The warmth was most welcomed and comforting as Ione pulled a woven blanket about herself. She had to smile when Linnesse complimented her on the dress she had made. It was one of her better pieces. "I am glad that you like the dress, Linnesse, " She sighed reaching over to the unfinished cloak on the table next to her. Ione fingered the tightly woven cloth, and said softly, 'Mother taught me how to weave and dress make when I was younger... it was the only thing we liked to do together...' She broke off the sentence and looked at the other woman, then looked back at the deep black of the unfinished cloak she ran her fingers over. She looked up at Linnesse, "Do you weave, or sew?" Ione studied the healer curiously. "Perhaps you could come over sometime and do some projects with me?" Absently, her eyes traveled to the window and looked out at the gray, chilled day... |
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