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| December 2008 | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: May 28 2010, 01:27 PM (2,119 Views) | |
| golden_trillium | Jun 3 2010, 01:11 PM Post #121 |
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Author: Elessars Girl Date: Wed Dec 31, 2008 9:50 am Derfel
Derfel was trying his best to fade into the brickwork at his back while the First Knight traded elegant insults with the lady. But at hearing his name snapped from Lancelot’s mouth, his blue eyes ticked to the back of the dark knight’s curly head. And then Lancelot brushed past Derfel without so much as a backwards glance at their most auspicious guest. The younger knight should probably say something polite here…but nothing would come at all. Derfel was not accustomed to such well-born women as she and felt completely out of place in her presence…. …..but remembering his manners, Derfel gave a respectful if not hurried bow to Lady Aracelli before turning to follow on Lancelot’s heels. And it was all that Derfel – long legged as he was – could do to keep up with Lancelot as the Sarmatian walked ever so smartly down the coridore towards the exit to the building.
Lancelot drew his weapon and Derfel had to wonder if the First Knight was truly bent on taking out his irritability on the lady’s fine looking luggage. He gave Lancelot plenty of space while joining the dark knight outside the housing quarters. “I reckon I should thank the gods the your not poking me with that thing, aye?” Derfel attempted a little humor as the two men headed towards the bath house where with luck Neeve had the Woad woman by now as had been instructed by Arthur himself – or so Lancelot had said. The dark knight was no friend to Derfel, but the younger knight did readily see the exhaustion, impatience and worry?? that seemed to fill every crevice of Lancelot’s angular and dark expression. Therefore he felt it not the time to test the other man’s patience – or rather lack of. The two men walked on in silence (with the exception of Lancelot snatching up a page to attend the lady's needs for now) once Lancelot had re-sheathed his weapon and luckily not sparring with the opulent pieces of luggage as the lady’s men carried it by them on their way into the housing building. And as they rounded the final corner that would lead them to the large structure containing the Roman baths in the Keep, Derfel recognized both Neeve and presumably her charge entering the bath house. Evening was coming fast upon them, thus the young sandy blonde knight could not make out too many details of the Woad woman he was meant to guard…but she appeared petite and docile form this distance. And at least he and Lancelot would not have to remain together longer to go in search of them either. Thank the gods for that too. The two women disappeared inside the large stone structure and the two men followed not too far behind. Once inside, Lancelot bade Derfel farewell with his usual candor expecting the younger knight to follow Arthur’s orders and not ‘fuck up’ under the First Knight’s watch and all that….Derfel accepted his duty with a tight-lipped nod and left Lancelot to the side of the baths partitioned off for the men while the Saxon begrudgingly stepped towards the sound of Neeve’s voice on the ‘female’ side of the expansive baths. He knew that he should not enter there…but orders were orders, right?? As Derfel approached the partition he heard Neeve’s distinctive voice followed by another…
The knight bent to peer around the partition and immediately caught sight of the woman’s bare legs as she was in the process of lifting off the tunic she wore. Derfel instantly averted his blue eyes downward – a flush most likely filling his stubbled cheeks – and making to clear his throat to hopefully catch Neeve’s attention. “Uh….Neeve?” Derfel called out with trepidation and being certain to keep his gaze downcast. His boots remained firmly fixed on the flagstones at the edge of the partition – unwilling to step fully into the womens side of the baths. SUNSET (EVENING) Arthur Arthur had turned back to meet Merlin’s stern expression at the Woad leader’s acceptance of the Roman’s words as well. Arthur had expected as much and knew that he must be content with this arrangement – even though it was not the outcome the Commander had prayed for. Arthur had wanted peace. He had wanted to hear Merlin consent to the terms of their original truce for the remainder of the harsh winter. But now, Arthur was faced with finding ways to both restock their depleted food stores and making critical repairs to the buildings inside the fortress while at the same time having to strengthen his defenses against further attacks. Surely Merlin would not risk the additional needless slaughter of his warriors while the ground was still frozen - while white snow and bare trees made a stealthy approach to the high stony walls of Badon Keep impossible. Or would he be so bold?
“Of course,” Arthur answered with dignity and acceptance despite the burning sting of failure in his belly. His wounded side twinged enough to double the Roman’s internal misery – but his expression and posture showed none of these weaknesses. He gave Casti’s muscular neck a firm rub and then slid his calloused hand to the rim of the saddle ignoring Guinevere’s residence there for a moment. The Woad had remained seated as if she did indeed intend to accompany Arthur a little while longer…so be it. Perhaps the Commander could learn something useful from Merlin’s daughter after all. “Safe journey to you this night,” Arthur offered with diplomacy; green eyes unreadable and chiseled expression every inch the warlord as he turned away from Merlin’s assessing gaze. The evening was chill and gray with a heavy lid of clouds overhead – darkness would envelop them soon. And Arthur wished to get his men safely back to the fortress before the moon made itself known fat and full high above them. The Commander ticked his intense gaze to his Optio and briefly nodded his silent affirmation that they would begin the ride back to the Keep shortly. Arthur then allowed his eyes to flow back over his men – all silently waiting for whatever was to come next. The Commander’s green eyes reflected his calm reassurances for each man and then he returned his full attentions to his mount. Arthur gripped at the front of the saddle – not caring how intimate in proximity his hand might be with Guinevere’s bare skin – and swung himself up into the saddle behind Merlin’s daughter. He grasped at the reigns above where Guinevere held them in order to re-take control over the massive white warhorse…not the she ever truly had control of Casti. His free hand came ‘round to once again press to Guinevere’s abdomen and with it came Arthur’s warm crimson cloak for her shelter. “Comfortable?” Arthur quietly murmured into Guinevere’s ear. And then he steered Casti around in indication that he was ready to follow the Woad escort back along the path in which they had come. |
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| golden_trillium | Jun 3 2010, 01:13 PM Post #122 |
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Author: golden_trillium Date: Wed Dec 31, 2008 10:51 pm Merlin, Tristan, and Quintus
“And to you, Artorius…go with my hope that you will someday remember your true people.” Merlin retired a step, to allow Arthur to mount and turn his horse without any interference, and as he did so he raised his gaze from the Commander’s impassive face to the bare tree limbs above him, now outlined by the sinking sun as it peeked momentarily from behind the cloud cover at the horizon. A last blaze of light, fading quickly…and a veil of more than earthly darkness seemed to draw down between the Roman and himself. A separation, a distance…they might be right next to each other, they might have been allies at times, they might even share the same blood, but the gap between them was a gulf now, ever widening as the shadows lengthened and Arthur swung himself up onto his horse behind Guinevere, turning his back, for now, on the Woad leader and all that he stood for. No peace. Only more struggle. Another ray of red, dying sunlight pierced the clouds, and for just an instant, gilded Guinevere’s chestnut hair, just visible to Merlin over Arthur’s shoulder. A sign… Merlin took another step back, schooling his face out of thoughtfulness to neutral farewell once more. He raised one hand solemnly in parting and gazed after the party as they turned horses and began to move away down the path, his people walking at their sides, their footfalls and harness noises and low voices beginning to fade into the shadows. He saw Arthur bend his head to speak to Guinevere, their shapes atop the white horse blending as one under the Roman’s cloak…caught and held the nervous regard of a helmeted Centurion at the middle of the group…and Tristan. Merlin saw the Sarmatian scout turn his head, outlined by wan sunset light, his messy, braided hair flitting across his face, before being cleared back by the motion of his head. Sharp, keen eyes met the Woad leader’s suspiciously for an instant…then the scout, too, turned away, to take in the rest of the scene and their location, if Merlin was any judge. Well, let him- their borders were well guarded, and the true location of their village a secret. Wind stirred Merlin’s hair then, blowing out from behind him, rushing in a gust off towards the Romans and their escort, then running away ahead of them down the path- like the Magician’s own presence going before him, accompanying the Romans on their journey while his feet remained rooted on the ground. Merlin could feel his spirit flying on the wind’s breath, and as it blew he seemed to see Arthur and his riders, the very path and the trees of the forest, fall away beneath him, as he soared up to the very sky itself. Clouds shredded and thinned out, stars popped into glittering existence around him…and then the brief vision was over, and he was taking a deep breath and opening eyes he did not realize had had closed, to see the last of Arthur’s riders disappearing around the curve of the path ahead of him, swallowed up by the wintry forest. Only the chill ripple of the stream over its stones was left. Only that, and his determination to keep fighting- and scheming. “Come- we return. The others will join us when they have done what must be done,” the Woad leader said shortly to his remaining followers, both in and out of sight- and then he turned and made his way into the forest, back by the small path he had taken to get there- his feet finding the way unerringly even in the dark. Linnesse The light at the windows of the infirmary workroom was growing dim, slanting towards evening ever more quickly as time went on. The days in winter were so vanishingly short…as Linnesse lit a couple of lamps to see by she found herself longing for spring, for warmth and flowers and light, aching for it with an actual physical tightness in her throat. To see the sun again, to be warm…and she hadn’t been free, free to walk around and go outside whenever she wanted to, during the spring since before she had married Rufus! To be able to just…go outside the walls, and see all the melt and the little flowers poking up, to smell the dirt…Linnesse took a great, deep breath, filling her lungs with the nonexistent scent, and instead got a noseful of various mixed medicinal smells.- not altogether unpleasant, but a dried, indoor, cooped-up smell, not a living smell. A winter smell. And it was dark now, the window shedding no more than a slightly lighter gray square on the floor, the corners of the room cloaked in shadow, the lamps little overlapping islands of yellow. And there was a chill in the room, too- Linnesse rubbed her hands together and blew on them in the light of the largest of the lamps. Lancelot’s poultice was done, sitting on the corner of the work table ready for him or for anyone he should send to get it. The smell of the herbs she had included in it still hung prominently in the air, and the door of the workroom was open, letting sight and sound of the infirmary’s large main room into the smaller one. All that was behind the first row of shelves to Linnesse, though, and she could see the activity there only between the jars and bottles and packets that lined the shelves. For all intents and purposes she was alone in the workroom- alone with her thoughts, though with the comforting bustle of the bigger room not far off. Sighing tiredly, Linnesse pulled out a chair and sat carelessly down in it, propping her elbows on the work table and her chin in her hands. She didn’t feel sleepy, exactly, but it was good to get off her feet- it had been a rather long day. It seemed ages ago that she had arrived and been called to Ione’s room to attend her- and then there had been Drake, trying to shuffle Cassidy and Fleur off, and she had gotten Linnette to walk them instead- and then- well, Ione’s child. Such as it was. And later she had taken Ione home, and then gone to meet Derfel and found Lancelot too, with his black eye…and now Derfel was guarding some prisoner. Linnesse hoped he was at least having an easy time of it- that whoever it was wasn’t being too difficult. She thought about spring again. At this time of year, the Villa Rosarum’s garden would be dormant, the trees bare and the flowers and bushes cold, lying, perhaps, under a carpet of snow. But soon- in a few weeks- the little stems would be poking up, the snow would be receding to the deep-shadowed corners, and finally disappearing altogether. She used to watch the piles shrink from her bedroom window, even when she could not see the garden properly, because her window did not face that way…and she could not just walk to another on the other side of the house, not under Rufus’s rule…because at any time he might come into her room and…a sudden sick feeling swamped over Linnesse at the sudden memory, the set, displeased face and fist balled at his side, and she grimaced, bending her head slightly down and rubbing at her face with her hands, trying to scrub the image away. Curse it…she needed to be busy again. Or at least not alone. Linnesse stood up with another agitated breath and grabbed quickly for the poultice, taking it with her out into the big room, where she set it on a side table and then made her way over to the newly-arrived meal cart with quick steps that aimed to leave no room for anything else in her head but the mechanics of work. She’d help with the food- that was always needed, and it was something to do. It was too early to hope to find Derfel or even Linnette free yet- but later. Later she’d seek out their company, but for now, work was best. |
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