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| December 2008 | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: May 28 2010, 01:27 PM (2,127 Views) | |
| golden_trillium | May 30 2010, 12:32 AM Post #16 |
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Author: Unicorn Date: Wed Dec 03, 2008 3:38 pm Dagonet Dagonet didn't hear any respons from Saoirse, but knew that she understood what was he saying. They knew that they had to go on.. that they could not give to sorrow and darkness. Dagonet smiled a little still holding her. "I'll be alright..." he whispered soothing her a little more. They are again together. Their love was true.... He was alive. He survived yet another mission. His son had not. But he was still here. He should think about his life now and the life of Saoirse and Linnette's and her child. He had to take care of them. He still had something to live for. He hoped that this was right. That this was what he should do. A brief laugh from his lover brought another smile upon his face. And once she moved a little and looked up at him, Dagonet found himself forgeting about everything else. This little smile from her was enough for him to get lost in her still hurted and confused blue eyes. Just for a brief moment he forgot what had happened and remembered himself that he had somebody... that he had Saoirse and her love. He remembered what it was to feel the closeness and warmth of the person he loved, always has and always will be. In that moment Sarmatian found himself finally alone with Saoirse... free from anothers eyes.
He just shook his head silently with a little smile and allowed her to lead him into mens' room in the baths. A darker, smaller, more private room.
Dagonet slowly sat on the bench and let out a loud, exhausted sigh. The walk tired him greatly. He smiled a little leaning heavly on his elbows positioned on his knees, his head bowed. He needed a little rest. But after a second of weakness Sarmatian looked up at her and cleared his throat. "We will have time for your vissions later..." he joked with a smile upon his face. He slowly took off his cloack and shirt with Saoirse great help, his hands were not so strong as they were yet. He was still weakened by the wounds and by curshing sorrow and laying down in bed for so many hours. Mirtha Well... when had Mirtha done something like that? Drunk with a somebody not in solitude. Probably a long time before. He drunk much, but everytime alone. He didn't like company for it. He was geting agresive while drinking too much. It was his problem... He probably had some scars as a result of this fact, but he didn't remember it quiete good.
Mirtha shook his head. Yhea right! Not an asshole... Maybe. But it didn't change a fact that he threw Mirtha in to the cell! He snorted at Karl's words and took a big sip from the bottle. "I'm not good at taking orders..." he laughed a little. "And as for Scipio fucker... I know what you mean." he said remembering the talk with the Optio who ordered him actually to work harder. But in matter of fact he could not place the man in his thinking. Maybe he was only doing his duty or something. He didn't hear anybody complaining about him while Arthur Castus was out of the fort. Optio was just optio doing his job probably. Mirtha was not in the place to judge anybody.
At that Mirtha snorted again but a laugh came out also. Oh! He got his ass kicked it was true! This captain was good at fights! Mirtha wondered why the hell was he suppouse to work in the stables. He looked at Karl briefly before looking somewhere else. "Why he has to work here? Do you know?" he asked curiously. "Our team-work started on the wrong foot already!" he said with a little smile.
Mirtha looked at Karl and frowned. Pussy... Gods! Mirtha had enough problem cause of that. He shook his head slowly smile disappearing and wondered how Ione was doing, but quickly avoiding those thoughts. He promised himself to get away from the problem. Not to hurt her further. "Yhea... I'll probably have more work around... No pussies for me now." |
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| golden_trillium | May 30 2010, 02:19 AM Post #17 |
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Author: Starbelle Date: Wed Dec 03, 2008 5:50 pm Tatiana
"Yea, that sounds like a good idea especially with my going with someone or even a couple of someones after all its better to be safe than sorry in regards to the situation with the woads around as we can't trust them at all." Tatiana agreed with her friend's words completely.
Well, that's true. Some people can be quiet and sleepy when they've had too much to drink..then there are those who like to get rambunctious, rowdy and mean, like Mirtha, for instance." Tatiana replied with a slight shake of her head when she thought of the stablemaster then wishing that she hadn't as it just conjured up bad memories that she didn't want at the moment. Looking around at the near empty tavern, the stable-girl found that she could hear people's voices easier now that it was sort of empty, just not their exact words or conversations. Even Tristan's hawk liked the semi-quiet as it looked like the bird had gone to sleep as the feathers had fluffed up slightly and the eyes were closed. |
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| golden_trillium | May 30 2010, 02:22 AM Post #18 |
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Author: Pinkie Date: Thu Dec 04, 2008 4:27 am Galahad
Ok, if it killed him he would have to put a stop to this 'sir knight' business. Galahad looked exasperated as he peered at Tayala - the blues of his eyes seemed dulled somehow, the whites looked reddened - a lack of sleep and a thumping hangover causing this, but even the muscles of his body seemed lax. He looked defeated. As Tayala approached him however, this all changed. The knight tensed,watching her cautiously down the length of his nose. She came up in front of him slowly and for a moment, a silly, silly moment, the Sarmatian thought she was going to seduce him. He remained very still, like a skittish horse, eyes huge and bulging, watching this human cautiously. They were in very close quarters now, both inside teh stall and the horse leaning close to them too - She was a kid! She was what, 12? 13? And she was trying to seduce him?! Galahad thought to himself in a panic - but his panic was ill-founded. The girl... well, Galahad simply flinched when she touched him first. He shifted to the side but her other tiny hand was on the other side of him. He looked down at her small wrists and flinched to the opposite side, trying to avoid her prying fingers. What was she doing?! "Hey ... hey!" he uttered quietly at first, but then more forcefully as he realised that telling her to stop would not hurt her honour or her dignity since she wasn't trying to seduce hiim at all. She was trying to tickle him. Galahad had not wanted to hurt her feelings if she had been coming close to try kiss him - but now that he realised she was mocking him, teasing him and making a fool of him, he had no such compunction in preserving her dignity. "Hey stop that!" he snapped, lifting his two arms to ward off her wandering fingers. She prodded at the wrong places, recallign to his mind all the little aches and pains he had accumulated between the fight against the Saxons and then the fight against Kolya. The tiny throb of pain at his elbow became an irritated inflammation and he grimaced, temper simmering. He didn't want to hurt her for gods sake! She was a kid!
Liked being around him?! Galahad let out a wordless roar and grabbed the girl by the arms - one at her wrist, the other above her elbow. He let out an exasperated breath and looked at her darkly in the sudden stillness that he had created by stopping her tickling. Tickling!, GODS! "What are you doing?!" he snapped at her, "What are you thinking? You like being around me, girl? I've done nothing but snipe and grump at you for all of the five minutes that you've known me - how can you like being around me? And why are you tickling me!?" he cried in exasperation at her, releasing her arms abruptly and stalking away from her, muttering to himself. He went out of the stall and started to walk towards daylight, calling back over his shoulder at the girl without looking at her - "You don't know me, ok? So just ... leave me alone! Grow up!" he snapped the last defensively and shrugged his shoulders. Mari
She may have been soft at heart, but Mari knew when a situation was changing right before her. Youthful eyes watched as Linnette looked towards Drake as he left the tavern. She turned to peer at him once herself then looked back at Linnette whose eyes seemed rivetted to the grizzly soldier. Mari bit the inside of her cheek and looked down at her platter of food. She reached out and picked up some more to eat, then sat nibbling it a while until Linnette answered her. And it was a terse answer. Not rebuking and not rude, but there seemed to be something gone out inside the other woman when Mari looked up at her. That sadness was back - except it was tinged with bitterness too, or maybe not bitterness,maybe it was inevitable pain? Mari flinched, wondering how she might turn the conversation back to when Linnette had seemed happy. She had seemed happy talking about the soldier and a sudden, silly thought occurred to Mari - that Linnette would be sort of ideal for him. She was responsible, strong and she was sure that she could cheer him up. It didn't seem right to suggest it though - with Linnette so recently bereaved and since the woman had not pointed out herself as a candidate for the matchmaking, Mari assumed there was more than one reason for her not to end up with the soldier. Linnettes suggestion to find Dagonet and Saoirse was met with a wide-eyed, apologetic stare. Mari glanced down at the table of food and spoke before thinking - "Well it's only been a ... well, the food would waste and... but -" she paused and looked back into Linnette's shimmering hazel eyes. Mari was too obediant, too shy, too eager to please to say no to anyone's suggestions, no matter how spontaneous they were. A very sweet smile, sad and sympathetic, curled Mari's lips and she nodded her head with a half shrug of one tiny shoulder. "Sure - if you think they've had enough time." she answered loyally, willing to forsake this lovely meal and the equally lovely drink if Linnette wished to go check on the duo who could only be gone enough time to get to the baths and undressed, possibly dipped into the water if they were rushing. Mari reached for her cup of wine and took another sip, a short one, then a longer one, licking her lips in enjoyment of the liquid as she took a piece of chees from her platter and popped it into her mouth, readying to leave if tha was what Linnette wanted - but also wanting to sample the goods that she had been given too! Smith
Smith nodded. That was something he had thought of back with Guinevere when she had offered to take Arthur to Merlin - but it had not been his place to question her in front of the enemy. So he had presumed she knew what she was doing in sending him to find her father and knew, in turn, that her father would order him to stop them at the ford so that he could circle around and ...
Merlin ordered him to do precisely what it was that he had presumed he would do. Oh Smith was an ideal leader, he was the perfect candidate. He had youth, over Merlin. He had charisma and charm too, he had the prefect mind for strategy and tactics but he had no ambition to lead the woads as Merlin did. Smith took orders and he took them well - his unswerving loyalty second only to his lack of ambition. He was turning to launch into hsi saddle before Merlin ordered him to go. Dark hair fell down over his eyes and he peered out frmo behind the dark, stranded curtain to look at his leader. Old he may be, but Merlin was still able - he was blessed by the gods, touched by the gods, beloved of the gods. If the gods knew how to love mortals that is... Smith gave a curt nod of his head at each order - to the ford, stop them on the far side, kill them if they pressed, the east path and confusion - it was all already a plan in Smith's mind for it was what he would have done if he were in charge. With a crooked smile to the woad leader, Smith clucked his tongue and turned Scáth from the hut. He pressed the horse hard immediaetly, squeezing his thighs and digging his heels into the horse's belly, urging the dark beast onwards at great speed. The scouts in teh trees at the helm of the village gave a sweet bird-whistle to mark his passing and Smith lifted one hand, palm flat, fingers uncurled, in fairwell to them. He was bent low over the saddle and his dark eyes were focussed dead ahead. As he rode he knew that Merlin and teh others ran. They took to the forest on foot and they would take an hour what Smith could cover in less than half that time. His hair whipped back from his face and raindrops falling from the leaves on the trees splattered down against his sun-darkened skin. The lines of blue that he had painted across his cheeks and forehead for the battle were faded to mere dusty blobs now. Moistened by the rain, blue streaks slid down the hollow of his cheeks to his jaw and neck, disappearing beneath the collar of his loose tunic. He was closing in on the ford - he could hear the thunder of the swollen river and slowed Scáth down. He knew that this was where they would cross the river and he remained on the far bank, breathing heavy, and his eyes and ears ever pricked to pick out the noise of people approaching. |
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| golden_trillium | May 30 2010, 02:24 AM Post #19 |
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Author: golden_trillium Date: Thu Dec 04, 2008 8:32 am Linnette
Linnette was even then starting to stand up, leaning forward, her hands on the table ready to push off- well, not hard in the case of the bad left one- but the sight of Mari hurriedly taking a last sip of wine, a last bite of cheese, made her relent, and she wilted back down into her chair, leaning back into it and crossing her arms forlornly over her chest and stomach with a sigh. Mari was right- they hadn't given Dagonet nearly enough time to take a bath, and besides, it was hardly fair to drag Mari away from her food. The girl looked like she was enjoying it immensely, and hadn't gotten to eat nearly as much as she wanted. "No...keep eating, Mari...I'm sorry," she shook her head and gestured with one hand for Mari to go on, then tipped her head back, raising her eyes to the ceiling with another sad, restless sigh. There was dampness at the corners of her eyes, and she dabbed it quickly away with the edge of one sleeve as she sat forward again, hoping that Mari hadn't noticed. Though that was probably futile. She just hoped that no one else noticed, no one else at any of the other tables, or at the bar. "You're right, we haven't given them nearly enough time," she added with an attempt at a self-deprecating laugh, even though Mari had said nothing of the sort- she had implied it, or made Linnette realize it, and that was the same thing. Linnette propped her elbow on the table and rested her cheek on that hand, while her bandaged left one poked listlessly at the cheese on her plate- the picture of dejection. "I just don't know what to do anymore," she added in a near-whisper, dropping that hand limply into her lap. She should eat, for the child's sake if not her own. Gedeon would have wanted her to eat. Linnesse would want her to eat. Drake would want her to eat- he had all but scooped the stew into her yesterday when he had found out she had gone hungry all day. Linnette glanced over her shoulder again, towards the door where he had gone, with a faint upward twitch of her lips as she remembered his concerned, disapproving face, watching her critically as she made herself take the first bite. After that, it had been easier. "Did I tell you that I'm with child?" she asked Mari, looking back to the girl and once again making an attempt on the bread on her plate. She got it into her hand this time, but had no desire to bring it to her lips Her question was not a ploy for sympathy- nothing like that, though she was sure Mari would give it. She just...wanted Mari to know the whole story, now that she was so deeply involved in things. |
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| golden_trillium | May 30 2010, 02:25 AM Post #20 |
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Author: Pinkie Date: Thu Dec 04, 2008 10:00 am Saoirse
She had no doubt about it. It was whether they would be alright. Saoirse had seen death before - and had seen what it did to people, how it changed them and how it changed their perceptions on things. This... this thing that had happened would make him look back over previous events and maybe view them with a much more critical eye. And the red-head knew that, even without a critical eye, that her actions in the past were erratic, selfish and destructive. Would Dagonet see that then? Would his forgiveness withstand the strain of the lurking past? When she sat him down on the bench he leaned forward, elbow on his knees and looked down at the ground between his feet. Saoirse smiled sadly and reached a hand out, touching the bristly hair on the back of his head tenderly. She knew he was tired but as a fighter herself for so long, she knew that the only way he would get back into the kind of shape that would ensure he survived the next battle, would be if he got on his feet now, if he dealt with the pain and stiffness now. Dagonet looked up at her and Saoirse lifted her eyebrows at him expectantly.
The red head gave a short laugh of amusement and bit the edge of her lips. She leaned forward and started to help him out of his clothes, her blue eyes twinkling with obvious longing. The cloak was dangled to the ground and the tunic followed it. Saoirse got a look at the wounds he had sustained, the blackened areas of his upper body that looked unnatural, the swellings and abrasions that mystified her. When and how had he got hit right under his arm in that tender area right there? The Irish woman allowed the Sarmatian a moment to gather his strength once he had his upper body bare. She could not help but reach out a hand and touch the bony top of his shoulder, tenatively touching about the only place there didn't seem to be somethign that looked painful. Her nose wrinkled and she ran her palm flat against his shoulder and down his back as she stepped forward, sighing. "Abou' tha'..." she murmured, wincing. She wasn't entirely sure he was in a fit state to be going back to his own quarters, out from the watchful eyes of the healers - let alone ... anything else. Saoirse pursed her lips and used her hands to urge him to stand up. Once he was on his feet she put her hands to the waistband of his trousers. "Are ye sure tha' it's a good idea? Not tha' I don't want ye t'come back t'yer own rooms but ..." the Irish woman explained, allowing his pants to fall to the ground. She stood back and undid the clasp of her own cloak, draping it onto the bench as she spoke. She pulled her tunic loose from it's belt about her waist and drpoped her own wide legged trousers to the ground. She was not going to bathe herself but she wanted to be able to dangle her legs in with Dagonet. Soft blue eyes looked up into green and Saoirse gave a half-hearted smile. "I'll not argue if it's wha' ye really wanna do but ... well..." her nose wrinkled and she huffed out a breath, "I worry." she said finally, shrugging one shoulder at him as she took his hand, intent on leading him to the bath herself. "Can't help it." |
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| golden_trillium | May 30 2010, 02:27 AM Post #21 |
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Author: Elessars Girl Date: Thu Dec 04, 2008 12:10 pm Arthur Arthur had nearly…nearly… laughed aloud at Guinevere’s amusing response, but the wry grin that dominated his expression was enough to show the lady he appreciated her wit. Oh she would have been a powerful ally had their circumstances been different; had Arthur remained with his mother’s people and not followed in his father’s footsteps….and there was something in the way Guinevere continued her ministrations with the hand that Arthur held firmly against her stomach….. ….but the calmness of the ride and the perhaps false sense of comfort between them was suddenly shattered by a voice from behind, a shrieking female that could only be one of the Woads….
Arthur’s expression instantly hardened back into the steely mask he typically wore – that of Roman Commander and Seasoned Warrior. He turned to look back over his shoulder; piercing green eyes sought the source of this so-called attack until another angry voice now shouted from the opposite direction at the front of the line….
Arthur’s fervent gaze bore down on the male Woad as the man dared threaten the Commander – fearless green eyes easily cutting completely through the man despite the weapon in Nolan’s hand. There was NO trap. And what was that coming from the blue man’s mouth? A white substance? Was he rabid? But Arthur’s attention was once again immediately drawn to the rear at hearing one of his men shout out his name….
Arthur jerked at the reigns, effectively halting Casti and urging the great white stallion ‘round. But instead of reaching for Excalibur he could only grasp tighter at the reigns – due to Guinevere’s precarious position in his lap, Arthur could not draw his sword to defend either of them. His eyes quickly flickered to Amadeus; silently indicating for the Optio to protect the front of the line while the Commander urged Casti on to the rear of the group. Guinevere shifted in the saddle, but Arthur’s hand firmly held the woman flush against his breastplate. He would not allow Guinevere to fall while maneuvering his mount – nor was Arthur willing to relinquish his only real leverage….if this was indeed an attack.
The Commander’s gaze then found the source of the alarm - one of his men had a Woad restrained on the ground; the young man’s mount trailed riderless a short distance behind. “Stand down!” Arthur’s voice roared with a tone that could sheer hard leather, his grip tightened on both the reigns and around Guinevere’s waist. “What is this?” He continued while brining Casti to a halt in front of the soldier and his presumed attacker. “Tristan…Bors…” Arthur called for both of his knights as well, indicating to them to surround and contain the trouble if need be. “My men were not instructed to attack,” Arthur said through gritted teeth and for Guinevere’s benefit, although his piercing and assessing gaze remained fixed on the soldier and his counterpart on the ground. What was happening here and what had threatened their peace? |
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| golden_trillium | May 30 2010, 04:04 AM Post #22 |
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Author: Pinkie Date: Thu Dec 04, 2008 12:16 pm Amadeus This was entirely repulsive. Everything in his time in Rome bid him to turn this mess around. Treating with the enemy? Rome did not offer truce or treaty to the enemy! The enemy was uncivilised, there could be no compromise with civility. So they would make a traety, in Arthur's eyes, and then just sometimes they would allow their women to battle, they would create a pact and only on certain nights of the week would they eat their childre. They would agree a truce and only a thursday would they worship false gods! It was not something that could be compromised on! Amadeus watched with a wary grey eye as Arthur sat tight to Guinevere on the horse. At least three times now he had convinced himself to call the Commander on this intimacy, thinking that this might be a test of some sort - but three times he had baled on the idea. The whores threat that they were outnumbered lingered in his mind and he had no wish to return to Badon slumped across his saddle dead.
The Optio was startled by the accusation but he felt a surge of primal masculinity at it too! yes! Yes this was more like it ! They did not treat with the enemy - they attacked the enemy, they overcame! Perhaps that was what Arthur had had in mind all along. His lean body turned in the saddle to see a woad with an arrow knocked, pointing it at one of their men. His grey eyes darted forward to look at Arthur, for confirmation but the man had not lifted a dagger to the whores throat as the Optio would have expected if it were an attack. Amadeus knew in that instant that this 'trap' was not a trap at all.
Oh there was a certain satisfaction in this turn of events! The Optio had been riding behind Arthur and so stood in between the Commander and the skirmish. Amadeus pulled his horse back adn out of the way of Arthur, bring his horse in on the other side of Arthur, allowing the Commander full scope of this fracas - but Amadeus watched the woad whore closely, not his own men. He would not put it past her to take advantage of this scenario and put a blade through Arthur's ribs. Not a completely unfortunate event of course, but it would mean that Amadeus would have to lead the men out of danger and back to the fortress without Merlin or Guinevere catching them up... Arthur met his eyes. Amadeus lifted his chin and frowned a little - the Commander gave him a silent order to remain where he was and then turned the horse around, walking back to confront the men. As he rode past the Optio could not help the corner of his mouth lifting in a cold sneer at the woad 'princess', grey eyes severe and unforgiving. He then lazily glanced over hsi shoulder to the road ahead to ensure their safety before looking back down to Arthur to see how he would deal with this. Their voices were muted as the man had his back to him - but Amadeus watched carefully regardless. Any slip up, any let up at all and he would step in. |
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| golden_trillium | May 30 2010, 04:05 AM Post #23 |
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Author: Unicorn Date: Thu Dec 04, 2008 2:59 pm Dagonet Dagonet hoped that in time he will heal eventually to the state of not asking anybody for help. That he would be again the same, strong and protective man as he was before. Right now he was far from it, but there was this little hope. He needed to hold his hope inside him and let it grow. Untill it will happen he has to allow Saoirse and others to help him. To assest him in simplest actions. Even undressing came with some pain and winces. His upper body was bruised heavly and every touch and movement brought some of the pain back to him. His side ached constantly. He got already used to it... which worried him greatly. This shouldn't be happening so. On the other hand... he was wounded twice in that area. And got stitched and restitched couple of times. Once he was out of his tunic Saoirse put a hand upon his shoulder gently and stepped forward. Her eyes worried...
Dagonet frowned as she started to talk. He had a sense about what was she going to say. But he wasn't interupting her, just watched her as he slowly arose to his feet...
As she started to speak Dagonet's eyes didn't left her face. As she helped him to get off his trousers, his hands went to her shoulders... a weak attempt of keeping balance. He watched her as she removed her cloack and other things. As she looked deep into his eyes Dagonet still remained silent. He didn't want to go back to infirmary! He couldn't breath there! Air was too thick.... It seemed he was hurted more there. As she grasped his hand and started to lead him into the bath, Dagonet sighed and closed briefly his eyes. "I don't... want to get back there..." he murmured, it sounded probably like a child talking to it's mother. His voice unconvincing.... weak and silent. He avoided her eyes as she helped him to get into the bath. Water was warm... pleasent. "I don't know, Saoirse..." he admitted. "I want to stay away from others eyes for some time." his eyes went to her. He couldn't even grieve properly with all of those people around in the infirmary. "I want to have some peace.." "But I still feel..." he winced at the mere thought that he was going to say this. "... weak." |
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| golden_trillium | May 30 2010, 04:05 AM Post #24 |
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Author: Lancelot Date: Thu Dec 04, 2008 3:01 pm Lancelot
Lancelot cocked an eyebrow; it unfortunately was the one over the black eye, and he winced visibly. Cursing inwardly, he put his hand on the latch. "I'll find you in the infirmary later, lady," he said, pointedly ignoring Derfel's comment about bringing the poultice to him himself. Not in a million years would Lancelot accept help from this particular knight. He huffed out a breath and nodded to Linnesse, his smile still firmly in place, even though it was work to maintain it. He clenched the fingers of his left hand - the badly healed ones protested - and pushed out of the apartment. He slammed the door a little louder than he should have, but leaning against the wall of the building and closing his eyes seemed to help calm his wild mood. That that man, of all people, should have such a home, well. It was tiny and hardly workable and drafty! Yes. Drafty. It was also situated nicely to where the morning sun would hit it and the whole area would be warm and cozy and shut the fuck up, Lancelot. He didn't want a home! He couldn't even fathom living with the same woman forever. Lancelot hadn't even spent more than one night with most of his partners - save one - and he wasn't sure why in the Hell this was dragging at his thoughts. Shaking his head where it lay against the rough brick and wood of Derfel's home, Lancelot tried desperately to pay attention the feel of the scratchy material against his hair, the hardness of the building against his back - gods, what wasn't sore on his body? - the wind that bit at his grubby face, the sun that upon ocassion broke out and touched his skin with a scant second of warmth. Lancelot was not one for the 'spiritual' practices that some of the knights enjoyed; even Tristan seemed to have a way of disappearing inside himself when he was at practice or working with his hawk. But he needed something; anything, to keep him from exploding inside - especially when it was Derfel who'd get to see it. Everything in the First Knight's mind, every worry, every stress, every little tiny bit of guilt was one giant tangle of mess. He likened it to the way his bridles and tack looked before he learned the proper care of them - and he needed a way to sort things out for himself before Arthur came back. Before Arthur came back and Lancelot and he had the argument to end all arguments - because that was the only way Lancelot saw things going - or before Arthur did not come back and Lancelot had to a: dispatch Merlin or die trying, or b: help raise the child Darya now carried in her body and never be able to move on. A small groan made its way out of his chapped lips, and he banged his head against the brick wall one more time, enjoying the gritty feel as his hands once again clenched into fists. |
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| golden_trillium | May 30 2010, 02:18 PM Post #25 |
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Author: LadyCastus Date: Thu Dec 04, 2008 7:45 pm Rosita and Nolan Rosita groaned as the Roman soldier moved to her side, knocking the arrow to the side and pulling the bow from her from behind. He had moved with swiftness and Rosita had let him get to close to her. The Roman had her hand in a twisted, precarious position at her side. Rosita didn't dare move that arm, for fear of breaking it herself. Instead, the woad side stepped, swung around with a closed fist and connected with Brendyn's jaw. The woman wrenched her arm from his grasp and crouched low to the ground, shifting her weight from one leg to the other like a lioness. Rosita bared her teeth, ready to strike Brendyn again when Artorius rode up to where the two squared off, Guinevere still in his saddle.
Rosita continued to shift from side to side, looking wildly at Arthur, the young Roman and Guinevere. "Princess!" she said, looking up at Guinevere, "he pulled out a knife! We've been tricked!"
"Then why did he pull out his knife?" Nolan growled at Arthur. "We cannot trust them!" he woad said to Guinevere, his amber eyes flashing with anger. Nolan still held his dagger and was ready to attack if given the order by Guinevere. He wanted nothing more than to kill all of them and get on with burying their fallen brethren. Now the poor souls still could not rest in peace and that infuriorated Nolan more than anything. Rosita side stepped again, closer to Nolan and picked up her bow and arrow. "What do we do, Guinevere?" Malcus Barbattus Malcus moaned with pleasure as Catherine scraped her nail slowly and seductively down the captain's back. It intensified his impending orgasm as he waited for her response.
The gentle tug of his earlobe, the warm wetness of her tongue began to drive Malcus over the edge. He grabbed Catherine's thin hips and pulled her closer to the edge of the bureau, driving deep and hard into her.
Catherine hooked her legs around Malcus and he let him self go. He felt the mind-blowing orgasm begin his buttocks, tightening them and locking his hips against Catherine's. His cock stiffened and spewed its hot load into the woman beneath him. Malcus threw his head back and stretched the chords in his neck. He heard to the powerful thundering of his heart in his ears as he crested, holding his breath. As the orgasm subsided, he looked down at Catherine, who was coming down from her own orgasm, and smiled at her. Then Malcus planted the softest kiss on her lips.
Malcus slowly withdrew his withered cock from Catherine and blanched at the sudden blast of cold air on his soaking wet manhood. The captain turned from the woman in search of a cloth, totally unashamed of showing off his firm buttocks. "Never the end, my dear lady," he said affectionately once he'd located a clean cloth. "Merely a short break until the next episode, I'd say," he crossed the small room again with the cloth so that she may clean herself. Malcus grabbed Catherine's hand and kissed the back of it as he passed over the cloth to her. "There is a bucket of water there if you'd care to wash," he said. Then the captain went to his bed and pulled out a small box. He opened it and pulled out a rather large leather purse. Malcus pulled out something and went back over to Catherine. "Thank you, my lady, for making what I thought would be a horrible afternoon, something quite pleasant. I have considered the amount of time I've taken from you and I hope this pleases you," he said as he handed quite the tidy sum over her. |
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| golden_trillium | May 30 2010, 02:20 PM Post #26 |
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Author: lady ione Date: Thu Dec 04, 2008 8:16 pm Brendyn All he was aware of was the female woad he had restrained, and the plight his beloved horse was in. Brendyn knew the longer Tyranus stayed like that, the more he'd be in pain. The Breton could see some movement out of the corner of his eye, and he heard Guinevere and Arthur speak though he was not looking in their direction just now. In some part of his mind, he hoped that Titrus, Tristan, and Quintus, as well as Bors, who seemed to have had a lot to say earlier, would have seen what happened and would tell what they had seen....
He heard the female in his grasp moan, and he thought he had had her in his grasp good and firm, but as he raised his eyes to meet Guinevere and Arthur's, he felt her move, then left a good strong fist hit his jaw, and as she did so, wrenched her arm from his grasp. DAMN IT ALL! Brendyn felt his temper flair, but with the Commander and the woad princess looking down at him, he dared not throw the next punch. The young soldier would worry about the pain in his jaw later. It was all he could do not to take that woman's hair and yank her head up to give her a few good smacks on the side of her pretty face. Arthur had given him the word to "stand down", and he was duty bound to obey. The female dropped to the ground shifting like some wild animal, barring her teeth, ready to strike again. All Brendyn could think of was defense, and he knew some moves that would kill her if he used them, so he thought rapidly through the ones that were effective. Brendyn gauged the proximity of the woads to Arthur and the rest, and he'd protect them as Malcus ordered.
Brendyn looked to the two accusers then back to the other men and Arthur as well as Guinevere. He had had enough of this foolishness and his jaw hurt like hell! The situation had become percarious as the angry male woad was holding his dagger and the female woad had picked up her bow and arrow. He felt he had to speak, before things got too carried away. The Breton looked at the ground and saw where he had laid his dagger down in a peaceful like manner, and he had protected himself from death, but a woad striking him?
Do? Do? Brendyn raised his eyes to Arthur and Guinevere , then back to the woad he had restrained. Arthur was right: He had instructed his men not to attack, and Brendyn had followed that Command to the letter. Brendyn could feel his face swell a bit and stung like a hornet. No doubt it'd be black and blue a bit later. His eyes narrowed at the woad crouched on the ground then to Until now when this woad woman he was restraining had decided that he had tried to start an attack by trying to remove a stone from his horse's hoof, and had pointed her little arrow at him? How very strange! Brendyn would have looked down at the ground in shame had it been an unwarranted attack, but all he had done was gone to take a stone out of his horse's hoof. He had done nothing wrong. He adjusted his armor and made himself look at least slightly presentable considering that now he had mud on his breeches and boots as well as muddy blotches on his red cloak. What a sight he must have looked! Steadily, Brendyn rested his gaze on Guinevere and Arthur as well as the Optio, and said in a steady but slightly tense voice, "Sir. My Lady. I made no move to do anyone harm." He gestured worriedly to the black horse, then continued, "Tyranus had a good sized stone caught in his hoof, and it caused him to stumble a bit. I dismounted, and drew my dagger so as to remove the stone when this lady informed me not to move or I'd die." He looked at Arthur, "I had to defend myself, and disarm her so that she'd not harm me nor my horse... nor anyone near by." He was more concerned about his horse right now than even the look of his jaw... Tyranus shook as if in pain, his left leg slightly bent to prevent any weight from being placed on it. The horse had bravely taken a few steps to stand next to his master, his nose going down to his injured leg as if to inspect it, then nudged Brendyn. The soldier reached out and took the reins and brought them over the horse's head, then turned to Guinevere, then Arthur, "I need to get the stone out, and make sure he has no other hoof, or leg damage." Brendyn looked then to his fellow soldiers hoping one of them would tell what they saw.... |
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| golden_trillium | May 30 2010, 02:21 PM Post #27 |
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Author: Darya Date: Fri Dec 05, 2008 6:00 am Darya Darya silently watched Tatiana watching other people for a moment. It seemed the other woman did not only agree to the Sarmatian’s advice to not go out hunting alone while the situation with the Woads was still critical…but also seemed to ponder her words concerning the tavern. Yes, it was by far the most popular place of the Fortress and usually also the most crowded one. And that was certainly not everyone’s taste. Certainly not Darya’s. She felt uncomfortable in large crowds…unless it was a group of her kin. Thus she was pretty glad that the tavern was rather quiet right now. But then…it was late afternoon… Evenings and nights were worse.
Again Tatiana mentioned Mirtha…and not in a positive way. Darya arched an eyebrow at the girl and tilted her head a little. “If you don’t mind my asking, Tatiana…”, the female Sarmatian then asked, “…have you made any bad experiences with the stable-master? It seems you don’t have a very high opinion of him…” A corner of the dark-haired’s mouth twitched slightly. She did not want to offend Tatiana…or make her feel bad. It was just curiosity and concern that had made her ask this. If Mirtha was mistreating or rude to people on a regular basis, something should be done here… And what if he acted the same among the horses? But then again Darya herself had not seen anything wrong in the man’s behavior in the few encounters she had had with him so far. However, if Tatiana had problems with Mirtha or whomever and was willing to talk about it, then Darya would do what she could to help. It was her job after all. And it would distract her from all the things that were keeping her mind busy… |
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| golden_trillium | May 30 2010, 02:23 PM Post #28 |
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Author: LadyCastus Date: Fri Dec 05, 2008 7:28 am Karl Karl leaned back against the stable wall and closed his eyes. The room started spinning so he quickly opened him again. Whatever stash Mirtha had pulled out was some good shit and Karl was feeling quite toasty warm from its effects. The tall Roman stretched his legs out in front of him and scratched the side of his scraggly beard. Damn shame really, he'd get his ass chewed off if an officer saw him with his face in that condition. Karl scoffed at the idea and took another drink from the near-empty bottle, passing it back to Mirtha who looked like he wasn't feeling any pain either. The stable master wasn't such a bad guy, the bastard! If Karl wanted or needed any friends, he figured Mirtha might make the list. But who needed friends? Fuck 'em! Karl chuckled at the thought.
Karl nodded his head. It's not that the blond had anything against Scipio personally. No, not all - Karl hated all authority. Of course he was respectful to Arthur and Malcus but anyone else got whatever mood he was in that day. So far Scipion hadn't done anything to get on Karl's bad side, which didn't take much, so Karl didn't see any reason to detest the man. Not yet at least.
Karl laughed aloud, thinking about how the captain handled his business with the stable master. Karl had to admit that Barbattus was one tough bastard! Karl stood up and raised his arms high above his head, stretching his long legs. He quickly lowered his arms however as the room spun out of control once again and the Roman wobbled a step to one side. "Whoa!" Karl giggled as he regained his footing. "Well, off to find something to sink this into," he said, grabbing at his crotch. "Thanks for the spirits," he mumbled as he dropped the empty bottle down next to Mirtha. "I'll see ya later,"
Karl shrugged his shoulders indifferently. He didn't care whether Mirtha got laid or not. "Your loss, mate. While I'm coming, you'll be going," Karl cackled at his own lame humor then turned and stumbled out of the stable into the cold afternoon air. |
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| golden_trillium | May 30 2010, 02:24 PM Post #29 |
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Author: TwistOfShadows Date: Fri Dec 05, 2008 8:41 am Guinevere Peace was fragile. Rome and Briton fought for supremecy over this fertile land, and much blood stained the earth. Britons had been massacred, and Roman soldiers cut down. It was the way of war, the way of patriotism. Guinevere of Briton would die for Briton, and this made her a dangerous enemy. She was furtive, passionate and intelligent. She also understood certain Roman characterisatics that aided her in this negotiation. The Woad princess trusted Arthur to keep his word, and did not expect an attack of any sort. As the hard winds rushed through the trees around them, a skirmish had broken out between both their men. It appeared small, but irritating enough to force Guinevere to speak. She had no patience for disobedience, and she was no fool. The woman would never have mounted Casti unless she believed it was for a good cause, a trusted treaty. Had Arthur played false? Had he sought her trust and then dashed it against the rocks? Guinevere felt Arthur’s hand tighten on her stomach, and she sat up straighter, alert in the saddle. Her dark eyes averted to Rosita, Brendyn and Nolan...and they were ablaze with vehement frustration.
Guinevere’s lips drew into a thin line, and she breathed a low growl of impatience. The Woad felt Casti turn beneath her, felt the powerful tension of the horse’s flank against her leg, and she tightened her grip on Arthur’s hand. The Optio moved between them, and indeed, there was too much movement. Guinevere was not entirely in control of the situation, the insubordinate, and it galled her. Her dark hair tussled prettily against her face, but she appeared annoyed, frustrated, impatient. As the Optio rode past, he looked at her...and it was not an agreeable glance. The Roman sneered at her, and Guinevere looked impassive. Unaffected. Her black eyes turned away from him, and back to the smirmish ahead. Not instructed to attack? Then what? What was the reason for this foolish interruption? Rosita moved again, knocking Brendyn backwards, and Guinevere’s anger increased. She had ordered them to stand down, and Rosita had felt the need to attack again?
Guinevere’s eyes widened in disbelief, and she looked at Arthur. Her small brow was furrowed, and her top lip curled back in distaste. This whole situation was ridiculous, and both sides were to blame. Arthur’s man for viewing it appropriate to pick his horse’s hoof in the very middle of a bloody negotiation! And Rosita for jumping to conclusions and attacking on an already-fragile-peace. The Woad princess looked at Brendyn and did not speak, not immediately. He was not her man, but he was an idiot!! “I am no Lady.” She snapped. Her chin lifted defiantly, and she turned to Arthur. Guinevere’s voice was hard and cold, and each word breathed a soft fog from her lips. “Your man has discovered a stone in his horse’s hoof, and sees fit to remove whilst negotiating with the enemy. He has not noticed that we are negotiating a fragile peace, and that he’s within inches of having his throat cut! Your man is an idiot!” She raised her voice, and looked at Nolan and Rosita. “And you will do nothing. Stand down. This is no trap.” Guinevere of Briton stared at Nolan, and her eyes accepted no argument. This was no trap. Arthur was more clever than this, and he would not toy with negotiation. He had honour and a desire to save people’s lives...not throw them to the slaughter and deceive all. The woman moved her palm from Arthur’s hand, and pulled her hair back from her face. She spoke to Arthur again, her voice still hard from rebuke. “You should have come alone.” |
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| golden_trillium | May 30 2010, 02:26 PM Post #30 |
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Author: Starbelle Date: Fri Dec 05, 2008 11:58 am Tayala and Gawain
Watching him leave, Tayala spoke at his retreating back for a final time. "I was just trying to cheer you up, Galahad, as you seemed to need it and a friend to talk to as well. Usually my plans work, but better luck next time, I suppose. If its ok and even if its not, I think I'll be a little kid instead of a grown-up as they don't seem to know just what fun or friends are. Fine, you want to be left alone..you've got your wish." Then swallowing the lump in her throat and blinking her eyes a few times before turning back to his mare, Tayala began to gently undo the intricate braid work in her mane as gently as possible as the gray horse wasn't to blame like she wasn't in this situation. Heedless of the hurt tears that slowly began to blur her vision and trail down her little cheeks. Gawain was walking back down the stall after he'd watched Eyla leave and walk away from him. Deciding that he'd left his little brother alone long enough, he was stunned to see the little stable-girl carefully undoing a very pretty braid in Galahad's horse, but no Galahad around pausing every so often to wipe away tears so that she could see clearly. "Hey..hey...what's with all the tears, Taya, huh?" Gawain asked softly using his pet name for her as she'd met the fair skinned, long blond haired Knight once and managed to surprise helpless laughter out of him at her trick. Since that day, he'd thought of her as his own little stable helper and had bestowed his nickname of 'Taya' on her. When she heard his soft voice, she turned and wrapped her arms around him, leaving the mane all kinked and wavy where it had been braided. "Shh..shh.." He said in a soft, quiet, calming voice as he gently walked them both over to a bale of hay and sat her down in his lap. "Why are you crying, love? Tell me what happened and where's Galahad?" Gawain asked after gently wiping her tears away with his fingers, then running his hand down her back in a caressing manner to help her calm down. In slow but hiccuping breaths, she told him the whole story including her little plan to make Galahad laugh. While she spoke, he stayed quiet except for the little calming noises that he made when she needed it. Gawain did laugh softly when she got to the part about her little plan to try and cheer him up "Aww..you poor little thing, if I'd been here I could've helped you out with him. He's going through a rough patch right now, himself and prolly misinterpreted your plan, Taya. That's all, but why don't you give him some space for now and try to make friends with him at a later time, ok?" Gawain said gently as he shifted her positions so that her head rested on his large shoulder and her booted feet hung over his upper thigh. "Ok..Gawain..I will." She mumbled softly in reply. Worn out from her tears and comforted from as well as comfortable on Gawain's lap, the little girl felt her eyes grow heavy and close as sleep claimed her. Hearing her breathing settle then deepen, he knew that she'd fallen asleep. That's it, little one, just sleep and dream He thought raising his head slightly to place a soft cherishing kiss on her forehead with his lips before wrapping his arms tighter around his treasure to keep her from falling off his lap in case she shifted in her sleep. |
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