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January 2009
Topic Started: Jun 3 2010, 01:14 PM (1,510 Views)
golden_trillium

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golden_trillium

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Author: lady ione
Date: Thu Jan 01, 2009 8:46 am
Ione


She stood in the dim light of dusk that invaded the shop
allowing her thoughts to stray. Since her miscarriage, Ione
had had a lot of time to think and grieve. The dark reds and
golds mixed with the grays of the setting sun touched her dark
auburn hair lending their own colors to the soft waves that
fell over her shoulders. Ione put her arms about her body as
though giving her self a hug, and hung her head. She and her
child were alone, and he (or she) was now her sole
responsibility: to feed, clothe and care for it, but also to
love and protect it. The last woad attack had scared her...

... The weaver walked across the room the where she had placed
Titrus's new cloak, and allowed her small, slender hand to run
over the package. She missed him more than she had cared to
admit. Oh, the warm feelings he gave her when he was around.
The hand that was running over the package plainly showed off
the ring that Javier had placed there: his mother's ring. Ione
moved her hand from the package, and fingered the ring before
removing it. Looking at it a bit longer, she moved to a place
next to the shelves where she removed a stone. Placing the
ring on the ledge, Ione replaced the stone, hiding the ring
forever...

Out of sight, out of mind.

The weaver moved back to the package and picked it up, walked
to the door, and set it down for a moment only to place her
heavy cloak over her shoulders, then, picking it up again,
stepped out of the house locking the door behind her. Ione
stopped and looked up at the colored Winter sky taking in a
good inhale of the cold early night air before beginning her
walk to Titrus's quarters to deliver the cloak. Ione passed by
folks, but said nothing to them...
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golden_trillium

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Author: LadyCastus
Date: Thu Jan 01, 2009 11:02 pm
Karl and Malcus Barbattus


Before Malcus could intervene completely, Adian gave a swift
kick to Karl's groin. Whether it was his insolence or the
affects of all the liquor he'd consumed, Karl bent over, not
in pain, but in laughter at the young man's attempt to do him
harm.

"My little fishes are stronger than that you little bastard!"
Karl yelled, "I've got balls of steel, HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHA!"

The blond's face turned a crimson red with anger and Karl took
a step in Adian's direction, dead set on killing him. The
Roman's hand went to the small dagger tucked away in his
waistbelt.

"I'll gut you like a little pig!" he growled.

"That's fucking enough! Karl!" Malcus bellowed and yanked Karl
by the scruff of his neck, pulling him backwards. Karl almost
tripped over his own big feet.

Captain Barbattus got so close in Karl's face, their lips
practically touched.

"Listen to me Karl, because I'm only going to say this once.
Take heed or I will whelp you good with my whip until your
cracked, ashy skin barely hangs onto your sorry ass." Malcus
pushed Karl and took a step backward.

Karl lowered his head sheepishly and fought to stand upright,
wobbling dangerously from left to right. The room was spinning
and Karl desperately wanted to grab onto something. But he
fought the dizziness with all his might and willed himself to
stand up straight. He took one of his big paws and ran it
through his dirty, tangled hair. Karl rolled his eyes to the
ceiling and tried to count to 5. He got as far as 3.

"That's better," Malcus continued, taking a deep breath. "I've
had a pretty uneventful afternoon in the commander's
absence..."

Karl looked up at Malcus, locking his blue eyes onto the
captain's dark stare. Karl knew Barbattus had been locked up
with that pretty whore earlier. I'll just bet you more
excitement than you're admitting to, captain the soldier
thought to himself but didn't dare say out loud.

"...and I'm not going to let you fuck it all up by acting like
a little shit. Now, I'm going back over to my table and finish
the meal Vanora has prepared for me. And you? You're either
going to sit down and finish your drink, shut the fuck up and
leave those ladies alone, go home and sleep it off or my
personal favorite - I'll kick the shit of you. Which do you
prefer? You have exactly 2 seconds to respond."

Karl looked back down at the floor. He shifted his weight from
one foot to the other then looked at Malcus like a scolded
child who'd gotten caught stealing something.

"I was only having fun with the lady, captain. I'm ... er ...
I'm..." Karl lowered his voice so only Malcus could hear
"...I'm sorry...er...sir," he said just above a whisper.

"Never mind. Stay out of trouble or I'll be back. Next time
there won't be a conversation. I'll simply send you to the
dungeons."

The captain turned from Karl and looked at Adian. He eyed the
man from head to toe and back up.

"Keep moving, you've done your damage," he said dismissively.
Malcus had no desire to mix words with Adian. He'd had his
fill with shit today. First Mirtha, now this. Fuck.

"My apologies, ladies," he said to Linnette and Mari with a
slight tap of his heels. "I doubt my man gives you any further
trouble and if he does, you need only ask for me, Captain
Barbattus, and I will assist you immediately."

Malcus nodded his head at them and smiled. Then he turned back
to Karl, giving him a final warning glare.

"Vanora!" he yelled as he headed back to his table in the
rear, "bring me another ale, my love!!"

Karl scoffed as Malcus made his way back to his table in the
back of the tavern. He caught Adian's eye just as the young
man made his way to the tavern door.

"We'll dance again, you and me, he mouthed to Adian, praying
that the young man could read lips. Karl balled a fist and put
it up to each of his eyes and smiled.

Then he turned and leered at Linnette. He focused his
attention on her breasts and smiled wickedly. Karl winked at
her and blew a kiss.

"Until next time," he whispered, then took another drink out
of his tankard, draining it.
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golden_trillium

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Author: lady ione
Date: Fri Jan 02, 2009 2:22 pm
Vanora and Ione


Leave it to Malcus to clean thing up good and proper.

Vanora wished the drunken Karl would just leave the premesis,
sober up then come back and enjoy himself. In his present
state, Vanora saw him as a danger of sorts to the other
customers. She had moved back a ways so that if anything
happened, she was safe... though she wished Linnette and Mari
were in a safer place. Brown eyes watched as Adian removed
himself from the situation, and left the tavern. No doubt he
had a lot more work to do and it was already dusk.

Wenches began to move about to clean up the area, picking up
the chair, and whatever else had been cast about. When the
situation was settled (or so Vanora hoped), Malcus had made
his way back to his table...

Malcus
 
"Vanora!" "bring me another ale, my love!!"


Another tankard? Malcus, I'd give you a keg if you asked for
it... "Right away, Malcus," Vanora replied with a smile. She
moved behind the counter, took a tankard, and drew ale from
the freshly changed keg. The red-head took the new tankard to
the Roman Captain, and set it down on the table. "Here ya go,
Malcus." Then in a lower whisper, while she wiped down the
table though it didn't need it, "it is on the house, Captain.
Thank you." Before she could get another word out, the door
opened, and in stepped Ione, looking very drawn and tired...
and very pregnant, though not as big as she had recalled
seeing her.

She came over to where Vanora was talking to a customer
(Malcus), and greeted her with a nod, "A mug of hot mint tea,
when you have a chance, Vanora... and a small bowl of soup."
Ione said softly. Her eyes moved to the young man Vanora was
talking to, and she nodded to him recognizing him as one of
her customers, then moved to a table a bit away form everyone.
Ione took off the hood of her cloak, and rubbed her hands
together...

All she wanted to do was to be left alone...
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golden_trillium

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Author: TwistOfShadows
Date: Sat Jan 03, 2009 8:07 am
Guinevere


The woodland sang with the song of a thousand voices. Gentle
breezes tussled at the leaves, rustling them and sending a
whisper across Briton. There was birdsong. Faint, bright, ande
beautiful amidst the snow-covered trees. The frost that coated
the ground was a blanket of deep white, and the air was
chilled with it. There was the random snap of twigs in the
undergrowth, and then the murmering of voiced negotiations.
The gush of water in the ford was strong, and demanded
recognition. Guinevere of Briton sat atop Casti, and felt the
heat of the horse’s body. His warm coat pressed against her
bare thighs, and she breathed a small mist from her lips.
Merlin had silenced her speech, her involvement, and the woman
nodded obediently. She had spoken her part. There was little
more to voice, and so she remained quiet. Her dark eyes
watched her father and Arthur, and grew darker, blacker, in
their lustre. Did she wish Arthur to fail and fall? Yes, and
yes again. It was a strange friendship between them, a
comfortable understanding...but he remained the enemy. There
was no denying it. Even though she had previously sat between
his hot legs, there had been no truce. Not truly. Just
momentary peace, as transient as the surrounding seasons...

Merlin
 
“I have told you what true peace will require, Artorius,
and you have said it is not within your power to command
it. Therefore, sadly, there can be no peace between us.
I can give you my word that we will not harm you and the
men with you this day. But beyond that I promise
nothing. The lives of all Romans who stay on this island
are forfeit- it is only a matter of time.”


Arthur
 
“So be it. I must honor your word and I thank you for
the guarantee of safety for my men on this day, I shall
lead my men in a peaceful retreat from these woods along
the same path in which we came. And upon my return to
the fortress, I shall send those of your people there in
my care back to you without delay, “Lady, I must reclaim
my mount for the ride…unless you wish to remain my
companion, hm?”


Merlin
 
”My people still have dead to bury honorably, so they
will escort you back to where you met them and then you
may be on your way, Guinevere may ride with you if she
so chooses- for this little time,”


Arthur
 
”Of course, Safe journey to you this night.
Comfortable?”


Guinevere had not responded. It was pride, and defiance. The
Woad woman sat atop Arthur’s impressive warhorse, and felt his
rough hand grasp the pommel of the saddle. His bare knuckles
brushed against the bar skin on the inside of her thighs, and
she gritted her teeth for a moment. It was touch, gentle,
accidental...and Arthur swung up into the saddle behind her.
She looked at her father, through thick and dark eyelashes,
and nodded her head slowly. Arthur would not harm her. He was
not cruel, nor likely to assault a harmless woman. Oh, but the
thought brought a smile to her lips. It curled at her petulant
mouth, slow and calculated. Guinevere was not harmless. She
had strangled men with her bare hands, and felt Rome’s blood
coat her thin fingers. She was a warrior too. Strong,
intelligent, and relentless in pursuit. Arthur’s thighs
surrounded her once more, and she felt his hand touch her
abdomen. The woman lifted her small hand onto his, grasping
it. Almost protectively, but likely a reminder of her
presence.

“Very.” She answered Arthur. Her voice was confident, and
contained the mild taint of smugness. She lifted her chin, and
felt his stubbled jaw assault her delicate cheekbone. “I do
not think that was the outcome you sought, Arthur. Perhaps
killing our people and then seeking peace...is not my father’s
preferred path. I would advise a different approach next
time...” Guinevere spoke smoothly, and felt the cold breezes
touch her face. She breathed a short laugh, and tilted her
face closer to Arthur’s. She rested her forehead into his warm
neck, and smiled lazily to herself. Yes, she was comfortable
atop the enemy’s horse...and it was always interesting with
Arthur. Half Roman, Half British...and yet more British than
Roman. Only his impressive attire spoke otherwise, and
Guinevere lifted a hand to touch his cloak. She fingered the
red material tenderly, and spoke again. “My father is a good
man, and he is guided by the gods. You should not play with
fire, Artorius...”









Eyla

Oh, but Eyla was not cruel! She was deliciously honest and
flirtatious! The pretty whore stood next to Darya, and pouted
her full lips at the Sarmatian. Her hands pressed perfectly
into her curvaceous hips, and her skirts spilled out around
her tanned ankles. There was something beautifully effortless
about Eyla. Was it the twinkle in her eye? The linger of a
smile? Or perhaps the small and playful mannerisms that made
her difficult to dislike? The whore was attempting to seduce
Arthur Castus, Darya’s own lover, and yet here she was...being
treated kindly and most wonderfully. It was amusing! Darya was
surely losing her sanity. She had spent days chatting to birds
and wildlife, and now she was being friendly with her
competition! Eyla could almost laugh, and yet...she did not.
She looked at the other woman pitifully, and tilted her head
to the side. She wore a pitying expression, and did not seek
to hide her worry. A slight frown caressed her exotic
features, and she pouted thoughtfully. Was Darya sick? Dying?
Or merely...lost in this strange world of hers? Eyla looked
intently at the other woman...and then she shrugged. Well,
Eyla was not a doctor was she? Why ponder upon things she
could not change? It was pointless.

Darya
 
”Very well. But the bird is going nowhere but remains
here. The last thing I need is Tristan being angry with
me. And a bath is exactly what I had in mind anyway. You
are up for quite a challenge if you truly think I’m not
a totally lost case yet…You think you are ready for such
a different…challenge?”


Darya reached out to Eyla’s hair, and curled a dark tendril
around her finger. Was she flirting already? The whore tilted
her head to the side, and smiled cheekily. There was intensity
in her gaze, and naughty intent...and Eyla did not seek to
disguise it. She glanced down into the woman’s bosom once
more, and sucked her bottom lip into her mouth. What harm
could it do? Darya would never be as beautiful as Eyla, but
she could adapt her dark looks into pretty perfection. There
was a desperate need for femininity, and...Eyla could help.
But did she want to? There was money to be made within the
fortress, and acting as a stylist was not her business...and
yet? She could delve into Darya’s mind, and discover a few
things. She could irk Arthur with the clues that she was still
sharing his lover’s bed...oh, how delicious! Eyla looked up
into the dark Sarmatian’s eyes and watched her brush past her.

“Oh, sweet lady, I am always game for a challenge. It makes
the pursuit so much....sweeter...” Eyla purred the words, and
turned slowly to face Darya. Her lashes were lowered
dangerously, and she approached the other woman again. Eyla
would not be ignored, and she would be listened to. Standing
before the dark Sarmatian, she lifted a small hand to the top
of the woman’s bodice. She fingered the material softly,
brushing the smallest fingertips against Darya’s breasts. The
delightful curve, and Eyla spoke again. “We shall have a bath,
sweet lady. Together. And I will analyse your body bit by
bit...” She paused, and licked her lips softly. “And then we
shall discover things to change, to adapt, to emphasize. You
are my little challenge...so let’s see if we can get every man
in the fortress desperate to bed you. Let’s put a pretty smile
on those depressed lips of yours...”

Eyla leant into Darya’s face, close enough to kiss her...but
then withdrew. She pulled away from the dark Sarmatian, and
smiled mischievously. This would be an interesting
endeavour...
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golden_trillium

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Author: Darya
Date: Sat Jan 03, 2009 10:59 am
Neeve


Neeria
 
"I don't believe you, healer. Everyone has or had
someone, somewhere,"


Piercing blue eyes narrowed at the Woad when Neeria finally
brushed past Neeve to enter the bath-house. The healer had no
intention to get even more involved in a discussion about
family and her personal life in general. Her past…what had
happened to her family, it was something she had never talked
about to anyone. No one knew details. Not even the handful of
people she actually trusted; like Arthur…or Percival. Her
family had always been her precious…and even though they all
were dead now, they still were. In all truth, the raven-haired
was not sure if her twin brother was indeed dead for he had
been alive when she had seen him for the last time, but to
think he was dead, too, made it easier for her to deal with
his absence and with the fact that a fire had made it
impossible for her to get to him back then.

Of course it would be so easy and maybe even a powerful verbal
weapon to tell Neeria in detail who and how her family had
been killed. That it had been Woads. That those Woads had not
cared that they were slaughtering what Neeria herself kept
referring to as kin. But no…those memories and the pain
connected to them were Neeve’s private matters. And they would
remain just that. In fact, a Woad was the very last person she
would ever consider sharing them with. End of discussion. Thus
the Briton decided to just ignore Neeria’s words and merely
followed the other woman into the bath-house. She rolled her
shoulders a little when the steamy warmth of the building
embraced her slender body. The familiar scent of clean warm
water and a few herbs reached the healer’s nostrils. Neeve
could tell from Neeria’s posture that the Woad was – as
expected – quite impressed by the bath. Well, at least she had
not passed out…yet. Smirking slightly to herself, the tall
woman led the smaller one past the men’s area and held the
dividing curtain open for the Woad to step into the women’s
area. Thankfully, the men’s part had been empty for Neeve
still feared lots of questions when being seen with a Woad by
her side. Especially by some of the soldiers…

Then they both were in the ladies’ area and Neeve found this
part empty, too. Good. She approached one of the benches,
where some sponges and towels had been placed for use. The
healer grabbed one of the towels and was just about to explain
theirs as well as the sponges’ usefulness to the Woad, when…

Neeria
 
"When can I take off these things?"


Derfel
 
“Uh….Neeve?”


The Briton’s mouth dropped open to react to Neeria, but a
definitely male yet familiar voice stopped her from doing so.
Neeve’s head whipped around and she saw Derfel standing at the
very edge between the two bathing areas. She furrowed her brow
at his behavior which was that of…well, somewhere between
gentlemen and young boy. However, the healer was more than
grateful for his arrival…even though he seemed to have lost
Lancelot somewhere on the way. Ah well, she would deal with
the First Knight later.

“Derfel!”, Neeve heard herself almost exclaiming in delight
for she was honestly glad to see him, “don’t be shy…step in.
Our prisoner …is not of the shy kind either, trust me…” And
with her free hand, she motioned for the knight to come
closer. Gods, was he blushing because Neeria was already about
to pull her tunic over her head?

Then Neeve looked at Neeria. “Well, since it’s not common to
get into the water fully dressed, you may take your clothes
off now. Put them on one of the benches. These…”, with that,
she showed the other woman the sponge and the towel in her
hand, “…are to be used. One is a sponge that helps to scrub
dirt of the skin, the other’s a towel that is used to get dry
after the bath. Understood?” Before the Woad even had the
chance to answer, the healer pointed at Derfel, “and this is
your new guard. His name is Derfel, he is one of Arthur’s
trusted knights…” Then the Briton’s blue gaze shifted towards
the Saxon once more. “Derfel, this is Neeria…the Woad
prisoner. I take it Lancelot has given you the details?”
Tilting her head a little, Neeve gave the knight a questioning
glance and prayed to the Gods that Derfel knew all about his
task here…
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golden_trillium

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Author: golden_trillium
Date: Sat Jan 03, 2009 12:04 pm

Linnette


With her arm around Mari, bandaged hand resting loosely on the
girl’s shoulder, and the book and drawings tucked under her
other arm, Linnette skirted the argument and started off
across the tavern towards the doors, steering Mari and keeping
her head down. The men’s disgusting language rang behind her-
balls of steel, fuck this and fuck that- no end to it!
Linnette’s face, and even neck and chest, burned, and she felt
like covering Mari’s ears, but that would only have slowed
them down. The tavern had never seemed so big- the distance
between the door and where they were now was huge, the expanse
of floor yawning endlessly before them, its corners shadowed.
Behind them, things seemed to be quieting down- Karl mumbled
something- “only having fun”, Malcus answered, still stern,
but no longer shouting, and then there were quick steps behind
them and Adian passed them, shooting them an apologetic look.
Linnette managed only a pained grimace in return.

Nearly at the door, on Adian’s heels, Linnette became aware
that Malcus was now addressing them, apologizing, and assuring
them of no further trouble. Linnette looked back over her
shoulder and nodded, but had not the heart to do more than
that- out of Malcus’s line of sight, Karl had returned to his
table, and now gave Linnette a distinct, predatory leer.
Linnette caught her breath and spun back around, fighting the
urge to duck even lower, and forcing herself now to hold her
head high. Karl wasn’t going anywhere- he was staying there,
on pain of considerable extra unpleasantness with Malcus. He
wasn’t doing anything at the moment- so he was best ignored.
Certainly she shouldn’t scare Mari by mentioning that look.
No- she should act like everything was all right.

“Sorry about that,” Linnette repeated shakily as they left the
tavern, the colder air of the outdoors hitting her like a
reviving bucket of water. It was nearly dark now, the lamps
had been lit, and a few other cloaked figures were making
their way towards the tavern, as it was now almost time for an
evening meal, but Linnette paid them no mind, only walked on
with her eyes straight ahead, giving no thought for anything
except to make sure that Mari was with her. As she went on,
though, it became clear that the haphazard toss of her her
cloak was not nearly sufficient to keep her warm, and she now
removed her arm from Mari’s shoulder in order to adjust
things, though she did not break her walking pace as she did
so. She wanted to put as much distance between her and Karl as
possible.

“We’ll go to Dagonet and Saoirse’s, shall we? They should be
done bathing by now.” Linnette continued, pushing determinedly
on with normal activities, trying to put the incident with
Karl to the back of her mind. Actually, though, the idea of
going to see Dagonet was taking on its own appeal, independent
of any business with drawings- a protective, masculine
presence sounded quite appealing, and Dagonet fit that bill,
injured though he was. Once more Linnette felt a sharp pang of
missing Gedeon, and a stray thought that Drake would have been
welcome company as well, or Derfel, or by heaven, even Kolya,
who would at least be inclined to be outraged on behalf of his
daughter! That was a pretty pass she had come to- wishing for
even Kolya’s company! Linnette cast a quick glance behind
them- once again assuring herself that no one was following
them- and then led the way the rest of the way towards the
knights’ quarters, carefully not saying anything more about
her worry to Mari. She couldn’t scare her more- she had to be
the strong one here. She was the stronger, more knowledgeable
one, and she had to act it. She had to just do the sensible
thing and get them to Dagonet’s as soon as possible.

And it didn’t take long. Only a few minutes later they stood
before his door, and Linnette, raising her good hand to knock,
noted the small glimmer under the door crack that indicated a
fire had been lit. A small sound of movement came from within,
too- like someone taking a couple of steps across the floor.
The tense band within her chest seemed to ease…the room was
occupied. Company…friendliness…people who cared about her. It
was all she could do to politely knock rather than simply
rushing in.

“Oh…here are your drawings,” Linnette added, opening the book
as she waited for a response to her knock and holding out the
sheaf of loose papers to Mari to take back.
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golden_trillium

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Author: Eledhwen
Date: Sun Jan 04, 2009 7:24 am

Bors


Well, that was all a bloody great waste of time!

Bors sat on his fidgetty steed and glowered at the Woad until
Arthur gave the order to move off. All this way just for the
cretin to more or less tell them to piss off. It was just a
bloody good job it wasn't raining, or Bors would be really
pissed.

He swung his reins across the thick dark mane of his horse and
dug his heel into its girth a little harder than was strictly
necessary, causing the creature to shake its head in annoyance
as it turned to follow the others. Bors harrumphed, and threw
a last frown over his shoulder at the Woads who stood
patiently watching them leave.

Bloody weird skinny little hairy... weirdos... he grumped to
himself as he rode after Arthur. They gave him the creeps.

All he wanted to do now was get back to the fort and Vanora's
warm soft little body. He grinned to himself just to think
about it, and his mood improved slightly. That and the drink
Titrus had promised him - he couldn't quite decide which he
wanted most.
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golden_trillium

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Author: LadyCastus
Date: Sun Jan 04, 2009 11:02 am
Neeria


Neeria completely forgot about her conversation with Neeve and
the questions she'd asked regarding the healer's family when
they stepped inside the massive bath house. She followed Neeve
around the thin curtain to the women's side of the building.
All the small woad could concentrate on was getting her filthy
clothes off and sinking her aching body into the pool of warm
water. Neeria struggled to get the big tunic over her waist.

Neeve
 
“Well, since it’s not common to get into the water fully
dressed, you may take your clothes off now. Put them on
one of the benches. These…are to be used. One is a
sponge that helps to scrub dirt of the skin, the other’s
a towel that is used to get dry after the bath.
Understood?”


The bath house was empty, not that it mattered to the woad.
She practically licked her lips at the waiting water. Neeria
grabbed the bottom of her tunic and pulled the dirty garment
over her head and slung it to the floor, throwing all caution
to the wind along Neeve's instructions to place the dirty
clothes on the bench. Neeria's mind was consumed with
cleansing herself from the grime that caked her small body.
Never before had she held water and bathing in such high
regard but now the pool and cleansing was almost cathartic.
Like a rebirth, a baptism of sorts. Perhaps, Neeria theorized,
she would go down into the water as a filthy prisoner of war,
but come out a cleansed, whole person. Maybe things would be
different if she could just simply scrub her past off her
small body. The woad picked up one of the sponges and looked
at it curiously. She'd never seen one before. She put it up to
nose and sniffed. There was no smell. Neeria lightly brushed
it on her dirty skin and flakes of dead skin floated to the
floor. The sponge was rough and Neeria wondered if it would
hurt - of course not understanding that the sponge would
soften and expand when it got wet.

The water smelled of freshness, probably the herbs they used
in it and steam vapors wafted just about the surface. There
were steaming rocks on the pool's edge and a long bench that
stretched the length of the room. Neeria sighed with sheer
delight, her exposed her breasts heaving up and down as she
did so.

It wasn't until then did Neeria hear the man's voice.

Derfel
 
“Uh….Neeve?”


Neeve
 
“Derfel!”


Neeria turned and saw the blond man standing at the entrance
of the woman's side of the bath. Completely unashamed of her
nudity, Neeria simply stared at him as she began to untie her
trousers. She cared not whether the man stayed or left, all
that concerned her was getting into the bath and washing.

Neeve
 
“Don’t be shy…step in. Our prisoner …is not of the shy
kind either, trust me..."


Neeria stared at the blond man for a moment, then resumed
struggling with the twisted knot on her trousers. As the knot
loosened, Neeria gave it one final tug and the trouser slipped
down her hips and onto the bath house floor. The woad stepped
out of them, totally naked. She scratched at the thick brown
brush of hair between her legs and then under her hairy arms.

Neeve
 
“And this is your new guard. His name is Derfel, he is
one of Arthur’s trusted knights...Derfel, this is
Neeria…the Woad prisoner. I take it Lancelot has given
you the details?”


Neeria stood in front of the man, fully nude, and stared. He
was blond, but he was not the man with Mikel's knife. His
cheeks were flushed but Neeria wasn't sure if it was because
of her nudity or the warmth of the bath. She didn't really
care - she hoped he wouldn't delay her getting into the
waiting water. She put her hand on her hip, curled her bottom
lip and waited for him to speak.
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golden_trillium

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Author: Elessars Girl
Date: Sun Jan 04, 2009 11:38 am
Arthur


Evening was fully upon them now; what little dim light had
managed to pierce the thick wintry clouds overhead had slipped
below the horizon and Arthur found his eyes straining to see
the way ahead. But the mounted Woad Smith expertly led the way
along the snowy path once they had parted with Merlin; his
dark silhouette distinct against the white landscape
surrounding them. A few of the soldiers attending Arthur
wisely lit torches to aid them all in seeing their way along
the snow covered trail. And Guinevere was once again
intimately pressed back against Arthur’s chest; her slender
shape tightly confined between the Roman’s thick muscular
thighs as they rode. Her tiny hand grasped at Arthur’s where
it rested over her abdomen…not the soft generous touch of a
lover though – firm and confident and almost demanding. Arthur
ignored the contact – his mind was elsewhere…..

No peace. No word of truce against further bloody
confrontations in the days ahead. Arthur’s gut burned and
wretched at his failings, and his head ached and throbbed with
the pain of his failure in this mission. But he lifted his
chin and held his head high and nudged Casti on along the
frozen path allowing no outward indication of his internal
suffering. Optio Scipio rode close behind; silent and stoic -
and unbeknownst to Arthur - plotting and planning and working
through the elegant wording he intended to use that would
bring down Castus; the letter of correspondence would be
crowned with the detailed description of this failed mission.

Guinevere
 
“I do not think that was the outcome you sought, Arthur.
Perhaps killing our people and then seeking peace...is
not my father’s preferred path. I would advise a
different approach next time...”


“Oh?” Arthur answered. The corner of his cold lips curled up
into a sarcastic grin. Of course it was not the outcome the
Roman had prayed for. And Arthur had only killed those who had
attempted to kill him. Guinevere knew this to be true so why
goad Arthur into some pointless argument about the day’s
events now? He then felt her chilled face press into his
stubbled throat….and why take comfort in the Roman’s embrace
if she truly despised and so harshly judged his very presence
here in God’s winter garden?

Arthur’s fingers curled more firmly – more possessively – into
the coarse material of Guinevere’s blue stained clothing. Let
her believe what she will.

“And what would be your council, hm?” Arthur asked evenly; no
bait in his tone – only pure and honest curiosity. The
discussion would hopefully distract the tormented Commander
from the swarm of painful thoughts in his head. No peace. A
child on the way and a damaged fortress lacking sufficient
stores for the remainder of the harsh winter….and Lancelot
awaited Arthur’s return…..Do not leave me here…alone.

Guinevere
 
“My father is a good man, and he is guided by the gods.
You should not play with fire, Artorius...”


In winter, fire is beautiful is it not? Arthur briefly likened
Guinevere to a flame burning brightly in the heart of the
chilled and frozen British countryside.

“Guinevere….you need not convince me of your father’s merits.
He must do what he must to protect those in his charge – same
as I, too, must follow my conscience and remain steadfast in
my duty to protect those in my care,” Arthur’s words were
spoken with clarity and conviction despite the quiet nature of
his tone as if he and his charge were discussing any mundane
subject matter at all. In his heart and in his mind, Arthur
knew he followed God’s path in duty and servitude to Rome. He
was neither blind nor ignorant to the old ways that still
guided Merlin’s people… Igraine had taught her son well in the
ways of the gods despite protests by Uther. But young Artorius
Castus had chosen to bind himself to God and the Christian
teachings of the Roman church. And it had served Arthur well
over the years.

The small group of knights and solders being escorted by
Merlin’s people were moving along the white linen snow covered
ground at a relatively good pace. They would soon once again
reach the site were Arthur and his men had first come upon
Guinevere and the burial party. That also meant that they
should be able to reach the high walls of Badon Keep soon….and
soon Arthur would face much more strife and bewilderment than
he could imagine right at this moment. A roaring fire surely
awaited the weary Commander there…among other things that
would burn with equal intensity.

“What do you long for? Do you lie awake at night imagining
your knife at my throat?” Arthur murmured to Guinevere as they
rode on – the unlikely couple atop the magnificent white war
horse.
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golden_trillium

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Author: Darya
Date: Sun Jan 04, 2009 1:02 pm
Darya


The moment Darya had granted herself to adjust the skirts of
her dress before facing Eyla again had given her the chance to
briefly wonder why it was Eyla of all women of Badon that she
did not seem to feel the need to keep at a certain distance.
Having lived among men or in a forced total solitude for
almost all of her life had made it difficult for the female
Sarmatian to interact with her own gender. She simply was not
used to it…and even though she had tried to change this here
at Badon, the dark-haired had often enough failed; Linnesse
being the best example for that. It had worked quite well with
Einin and even better with Isolde…but Darya had retreated from
both again. Why? She did not know.

Now there was Eyla…and the smaller woman was a phenomenon of
some kind. Eyla seemed to constantly test how far she could
go…with everyone. And yet her constant smile and teasing made
it hard to push her away. Pensively, Darya pressed her full
lips into a thin line for a moment. She had absolutely no
doubt that the whore had already tested Arthur’s limits,
too…but she trusted the Commander and therewith clung to the
thought that he had made Eyla his chambermaid due to his
natural mercy and courtesy. And nothing else. And she would
live with this thought in mind until proven otherwise…which
she hoped with all of her heart would never happen. Closing
her eyes briefly, Darya pushed those trains of thoughts away
again and focused on what she was hoping to get from Eyla:
learning more about femininity…and how to deal with it. Rome
had made her a deadly warrior but the dark-haired
knew…hoped…that there was more to her. Otherwise she would
have no idea how to raise a child. Even if such things as
maternal instincts existed, she could certainly not rely on
just them, could she?

Positive that this plan was a good one and perhaps would even
be approved by Arthur, Darya faced Eyla again, awaiting the
other woman’s reply. Would she really be up for this?

Eyla
 
“Oh, sweet lady, I am always game for a challenge. It
makes the pursuit so much....sweeter... We shall have a
bath, sweet lady. Together. And I will analyse your body
bit by bit... And then we shall discover things to
change, to adapt, to emphasize. You are my little
challenge...so let’s see if we can get every man in the
fortress desperate to bed you. Let’s put a pretty smile
on those depressed lips of yours...”


Somehow the Sarmatian was not completely sure if all this
wasn’t merely a game for the whore…but even if so, as so long
as it would help her to push her past as far away as possible,
she would learn to deal with Eyla’s…different…behavior.
However, the examining of her body – as Eyla had put it –
would probably end sooner than the whore expected. Yet Darya
would let her know in time. No need to discourage the other
woman already.

Eyla’s comment about making every man in the fortress
desperate to bed her made Darya smile wryly. If they succeeded
to this point, it would certainly make her feel good…but the
female Sarmatian had no intention of sharing her bed with
anyone but Arthur. The Gods knew that she would love to see
that expression in his eyes again which had been there the
very first time they had made love. There had been no
words…just exploring hands and lips…and their feelings. So
much had happened since that day…

Eyla’s fingers at her bodice and her breasts brought the
dark-haired back to the here and now. She did not withdraw
from the whore’s touch…and merely lifted her chin slightly
when the other woman leaned in even closer as she spoke. Darya
just focused on the whore’s words for now…and was quite
pleased with what she was hearing. A corner of her mouth
twitched slightly and she straightened her back. “Good…”, the
dark Sarmatian said, “…a bath for sure is the best way to end
a day anyway. Anything we need to do or fetch before that?”
Darya’s dark gaze never left Eyla…and she adjusted her
movements to not let the other woman out of her sight…
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golden_trillium

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Author: Elessars Girl
Date: Sun Jan 04, 2009 1:16 pm
Derfel


Neeve
 
“Derfel!”


Neeve’s welcoming voice and brightly lit eyes at least helped
to make the young knight feel somewhat more comfortable. But
this was still the womens side of the baths….he shifted his
weight from one foot to the other before taking a step inside
as was bidden by the Briton’s gesturing hand.

Neeve
 
“Don’t be shy…step in. Our prisoner …is not of the shy
kind either, trust me..."


Well what was Derfel supposed to say to that? He finally took
a couple of steps on into the womens area and tried to look
everywhere but at the half naked girl before him. To hide his
probably obvious discomfort at being in the room with said
half naked girl, Derfel raked his caloused fingers through his
blonde hair and waited while Neeve gave further instructions.
What did Arthur expect here? Surely the Commander did not mean
for the knight to stand guard over a woman while she bathed??
Naked! Lancelot was better suited for such as task, was he
not? The Dark Knight would have enjoyed this! By the
gods….Derfel worried at his bottom lip and tried to keep his
blue eyes on Neeve’s fully clothed form while crossing both
his arms behind his back. His sword hung silently and casually
at his side and as the sworl of steam from the heated bath
water curled around Derfel’s stature – he began to perspire
beneath his tunic and thick overcoat.

Linnesse is going to skin me alive.

Neeve
 
”And this is your new guard. His name is Derfel, he is one of Arthur’s trusted knights...Derfel, this is Neeria…the Woad prisoner. I take it Lancelot has given you the details?”


Well at hearing his name again, Derfel automatically looked to
Neeve and then helplessly to his charge – ‘Neeria’. She was
now completely and seemingly unabashedly naked before the
young knight. He was human – and by the gods a man – but he
strongly fought the urge to let his gaze roam below the
dark-haired woman’s chin. It was not proper that he was
here….but it was curious that this Woad seemed completely
unphased by her nakedness in his presence. Derfel offered the
prisoner a tight-lipped smile; making sure to hold her gaze
and nothing more. He was respectful if nothing else…even if
this was highly inappropriate in his opinion. Damn that
Lancelot. Had the First Knight known he would be ordering
Derfel to do something that would jeopardize Linnesse’s trust
in him? This was his duty, of that Derfel understood…but why
not get someone to watch the naked woman who did not have a
wife waiting for him tonight?

“Neeria,” Derfel spoke the naked woman’s name with assessing
blue eyes and a slight nod of his head – still very mindful to
not look at her below her shoulders. May the gods give Derfel
strength there as well as he was so tempted to look….curious
about Neeria’s people and why she was standing here so boldly
before a man she’d no knowledge of while her flesh was
completely exposed…but, he was also remembering Lancelot’s
warning too – this one had tried to slit Arthur’s throat!
However, she looked harmless enough right now…well…she’s
bloody naked! Jesu!

“Uh…yes,” Derfel then looked to Neeve and cleared his throat
before continuing. “…he said I should keep close eye on her
for now. Arthur’s orders,” The knight finished with a small
questioning look to Neeve. Surely the healer would not leave
him alone with the naked woman? What if other women showed up
to bathe? Gods.

“You are goin’ to see to it that she cleans up and gets
dressed before I….I watch her…right?” Derfel asked the
question with trepidation and an almost pleading look in his
crystal blue eyes. He had half a mind to send Neeria over to
the other side of the baths to join Lancelot. Bloody bastard
would deserve the interuption.
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Author: lady ione
Date: Sun Jan 04, 2009 9:33 pm
Brendyn


So this was it.

Brendyn led Tyranus to follow Arthur and the rest to the point
where they would leave the woad's company to head for home.
Oddly enough, he began to relax, allowing himself to look out
over the snow covered trees where the setting sun hit.
Somewhere a nightbird sang a song that sounded sad and low.
The only other sound was the chilled wind, and the plodding of
the hooves of the horses as the snow crunched beneath their
steps.

He moved his horse over to Bors, but was not sure that this
was the time for talking. Brendyn felt himself honored to even
be in the company of these men, and it was an honor as well to
be a part of Arthur's mission. Though things had been tense,
he felt that he had learned a lot from this mission. Nearby,
he saw Quintus and Titrus, and he wondered how they thought of
his conduct. More than that, he longed to know what Arthur
thought though he had probably been too busy to notice.

Now, Brendyn yawned, he had not slept since the night before
last when he had night watch along the wall, then had been
summoned to join this mission. All he longed for now was food,
ale, and then a long much needed rest...








Adian

He was almost done with the fixing of the storage bin.

Adian set his tools down on the cart and looked up at the
setting sun that was partially shining through the gray
clouds. Somewhere in the heavens was his beloved Thorn and her
child. As much as he had tried, he could not get over the
grieving in his heart. Not that he wanted to right away, but
grieving caused a sort of hurting and sadness... one that kept
him somber and edgy. The light of the setting sun seemed to
remind him that he had promised to visit her grave, or at
least to find a spot nice enough to set up a stone or marking
as a reminder...

Leading the horse by the lead, Adian brought it back to the
woodworkers shed, and left the manhandle it. He left and went
to his quarters and retrieved Thorn's sword and the mount he
had made it. As he left, Adian looked over the mount for the
sword knowing that the way he made it would prevent others
from taking the weapon from the spot.

The young carpenter left the fort and headed for a shade of
four trees, and placed the sword point in the ground in the
middle of the circle of the oaks, then he fit the mount over
the weapon and secured it to the ground. Tonight, he'd keep a
silent vigil and give Thorn and his memories of her all of the
attention they deserved...
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golden_trillium

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Author: Eledhwen
Date: Mon Jan 05, 2009 1:31 am

Bors


Bors would talk to anyone, at anytime, if he felt like
talking. If he didn't, you'd be hard pushed to get a grunt out
of him, just ask Vanora.

He glanced down at the young man who led his horse in beside
his own, and grunted now.

"You shoulda stabbed 'er while you 'ad the chance," he
grumbled gruffly, then grinned sideways at the boy to try to
get a smile out of him.

This one was far too quiet and good for his own... good. If
only Dag were up on his feet, the pair of them could take
Brendyn in hand and show him what being one of Arthur's men
was all about. But Dag wasn't up on his feet... yet, so it was
down to Bors to do his civil duty and show the lad what's
what.

He looked towards Titrus thoughtfully as the Roman rode
slightly to one side of him, then sniffed, looking straight
ahead once more as he spoke.

"'Ere Bren," he said, "you should join me 'n' Titrus for a
drink when we get back. It'll do yer good. Put 'air on yer
chest."
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Author: Darya
Date: Mon Jan 05, 2009 12:14 pm
Neeve


The raven-haired woman watched Neeria’s reaction to towel and
sponge with a furrowed brow. It was apparent that the Woad had
never seen such a thing as a sponge before. The other woman
examined the small item as if it might be food. Neeve shook
her head slightly and just hoped that Neeria would not attempt
to take a bite from it in the end… That would only make her
end up in the infirmary. And even the Woad getting all naked
again without any hesitation merely caused a wry smirk on the
healer’s full lips. However, this shameless nudity seemed to
come very unexpected for Derfel, who had just entered the
scene…much to Neeve’s delight.

Crystal-blue eyes shifted from the Saxon to the naked Woad and
back. Neeria stared openly at the knight…while he did
everything to NOT look at the other woman. Well, the prisoner
did neither scream not pass or freak out… A good sign, was it
not? It seemed Neeria had completely forgotten about her
ability to speak. Neeve pursed her lips and let a strange
moment of silence stretch between the three of them before she
introduced the Woad to the Saxon and asked Derfel whether or
not Lancelot had told him about who their prisoner was and why
she was a prisoner at all…

Derfel
 
“Uh…yes, …he said I should keep close eye on her for
now. Arthur’s orders. You are goin’ to see to it that
she cleans up and gets dressed before I….I watch
her…right?”


Neeve had to admit that Derfel’s obvious discomfort and
concern about what she might or might not do was almost
amusing. And yet it worked to his benefit and reputation as
gentleman. The healer had no doubt that some of the other
knights would have just planted their arse onto one of the
benches and would have had a close eye on Neeria taking her
bath. And a good part of Neeve screamed to just shrug her
shoulders and tell the Saxon that the Woad was all his now…

…but she did not. Somehow, she could not. And even though the
Briton really needed a break from Neeria’s company to clear
her thoughts again, she was not willing to make Derfel’s life
just as miserable. And surely the Woad would not need much
time for her bath. The healer sighed and moved closer to the
knight, placing a hand onto his shoulder. “To be honest, it
was not my intention…but since I do not want to risk your
breathing to stop or your blush to get any worse, I will see
to it, yes. Just do me a favour…and wait just on the other
side of the curtain. Do we have a deal, Sir Knight?”, Neeve
teased in a low voice and let her blue gaze meet Derfel’s…

Then she glanced at Neeria and gestured towards the pool.
“Well? What are you waiting for? But before you go in
there…please tell me you can swim!?”, she asked the Woad with
an arched eyebrow…
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