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January 2009
Topic Started: Jun 3 2010, 01:14 PM (1,511 Views)
golden_trillium

Admin
Author: golden_trillium
Date: Tue Jan 13, 2009 2:08 pm
Linnesse


Ione
 
"I would be glad of some company, Linnesse. Please do
have a seat. I am feeling okay. Thank you for asking...I
went to visit Ian's grave. Tis in a lovely spot...one of
the wenches let me borrow her skirt and tunic...oh,
Linnesse, I was so embarrassed. How is Derfel? I really
do appreciate your help today. You have done so much for
me already..."


"Oh, it's no problem at all, dear...no problem at all. And
Derfel's fine- he got put on some kind of guard duty this
evening." Linnesse dipped the spoon into her stew, making
ready to scoop up a bite, but paused first to reach across
with her free hand and give Ione's fingers a gentle touch of
sympathy. The other woman had been though a great deal today-
obviously. Truthfully Linnesse was surprised to see her in the
tavern, but Linnette, she recalled, also seemed to prefer to
occupy herself with normal things during her grief. Perhaps
Ione was feeling the same way, tired of solitude and
reflection- but in Ione's case the physical aspect was more
worrisome. Linnesse just hoped Ione hadn't overexerted herself
since they had parted several hours ago.

"I don't understand, though...what were you embarrassed
about?" Linnesse cocked her head to one side as she raised the
spoon to her mouth. Ione's words had ranged quickly over many
subjects, something that Linnesse had realized the weaver
tended to do- but the significance of borrowing a dress and
being embarrassed escaped Linnesse...unless...

"Ione!" Linnesse exclaimed suddenly, her spoon clattering back
down into her bowl with a small splash as Linnesse leaned
forward in alarm, her eyes searching Ione's face for any sign
of...of, well, anything amiss.

"You werent...aren't...bleeding, are you?" Linnesse had
lowered her voice considerably on that and nodded downwards,
knowing that Ione would grasp her meaning. Any bleeding at all
was a very bad sign- Linnesse very sincerely hoped it wasn't
that!
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: lady ione
Date: Tue Jan 13, 2009 4:22 pm
Ione


Linnesse
 
"I don't understand, though...what were you embarrassed
about?" "Ione!" "You werent...aren't...bleeding, are
you?"


Ione looked at the woman across from her, and said softly,
"No... it is nothing like that..." She felt the baby kick a
bit and placed her hand on her stomach while she talked,
"Shortly before you arrived, I was trying to leave, and I
passed by that man over there..." Ione pointed in Karl's
direction while speaking in a soft tone. She was in no mood to
deal with the vile smelling man again. "The smell of sweat and
drink that came from him... well it made me sick and I lost it
on his table and in his food and drink... with a bit on
him..." She looked down into her drink, and fell quiet while
the remaining child moved inside her.

It felt like a jousting match.

'' I am feeling weary and might just turn in for the night,
though I do feel a bit hungry now, and could do with something
light... " Ione gave a slight laugh. "I am craving oatcakes
with honey on them... " She took a sip of tea, then ordered
the oatcakes and honey which the wench went to get for her. So
much had happened to her today, that it was good to have
someone around to talk with.

"Linnesse... how are you doing?"
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: Lancelot
Date: Tue Jan 13, 2009 7:35 pm
Lancelot


The Sarmatian's brain was whirling, but he put down the bottle
of wine and slowly recorked it. He mindlessly set the thing on
a side table, and crossing his arms, stared into the glow of
the coals that lit his small brazier.

And he thought. And remembered. And reminisced about
everything that had gone between himself and Arthur and Darya
and anyone that had been in his bed and ... maybe... in his
heart. He saw Darya's face - his kinswoman, the mother of his
commander's child, and the face of Arthur's future.

And yet - that face returned to him more than hers did. More
times, in sorrow, pain, in righteous, ridiculous prayer, in
hate, in passion and fervor for battle, and a few times, in
genuine joy and maybe...maybe something more important.
Something Lancelot had never been able to admit in all his
years as first, Arthur's enemy, then his begrudging
lieutenant, and finally, his closest friend and yes, lover.

Lancelot remembered vividly the hurt on Arthur's face as the
other man had thrown him out of his quarters for what he'd
thought was the last time - tossing the word whore around like
it meant nothing to Lancelot. He thought back to their
tentative speech after Segedunum, and his own desire to touch
the other man one more time, and to have the difficult things
past. He breathed heavily and pinched the bridge of his nose,
his eyes still squeezed shut, his unbleached clothing hanging
loose and clean on his slender frame. His eye and his head and
his wounded arm throbbed, and his heart ached and his breath
was shallow and injured.

And suddenly, his dark eyes opened and he decided he'd had
enough of waiting. He'd had enough of indecision, and by the
gods, he didn't care who was in that room with Arthur - he was
going there and he and the Roman were either going to talk
like friends (or at least like civil men) or they would have
the fight that had been brewing since Lancelot turned his back
on Arthur's request to admit to his truth.

I...gods. Can I say it?

He didn't know. He wasn't sure if he felt what he needed to be
feeling to give Arthur what the man had wanted, but he would
find out, and either way, he would have an ending to this
confusion and soul-deep pain. He was done with it.

He scrubbed a hand through his almost dry hair, and turning to
his boots, he pulled them on, and tossed a long leather coat
over his pale garments. He brushed his fingers over his chest,
and hesitating merely once, removed the lion pendant from
where he'd stored it under his pillow and put it on. He was
Lancelot ap Ban, son of Sarmatia, and he was going to stand up
for himself and put whatever ridiculous, stupid notions of
despair that were between him and his friend to rest.

Or he would fight Arthur, and he would leave Badon.

He opened his door, and slid out of his rooms. The night was
chilly; he could feel the blast from the stone walls and floor
as he took the short walk from his rooms to the much finer
quarters that housed the Roman he was seeking. He snugged his
arms around his torso, his coat slapping his legs, and he
stopped as he reached the dark wooden door that shut Arthur's
retreat from the world.

He licked his lips, and raised his hand, digits forming a
small fist.

And then laughed to himself, and turned the handle, knowing
the door would be unlocked. It was, and he pushed inside, eyes
scanning the room for any other persons.

No, just Arthur's hunched form, shirtless and shoeless, most
definitely praying as the other man gripped the sides of his
wash basin. Lancelot expected to feel anger, or remorse, or
the typical surge of annoyance that allowed him to berate the
commander anytime he found him doing the idiotic obiesance to
his 'god.'

Instead, a strange and maybe a bit unwelcome feeling washed
over him, and he rested against the closed door, his arms
releasing their tight hold on himself. He opened his eyes as
wide as he could, trying to really see Arthur through the
black bruise and exhaustion that coated his own expression.

Relief. It was strange, and it made Lancelot's stomach hurt.
Perhaps, though, that was not a bad thing.

"Artos," he murmured, staying where he was, leant against the
wood, his full lips rising without his say so into the
semblance of a true smile. A real smile, and though it felt
rusty, it also felt good.

"You're here."
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: LadyCastus
Date: Tue Jan 13, 2009 8:27 pm
Titrus and Karl


Titrus looked around the commons, breathing in the cool
evening air. Despite the misery that came with life at Badon,
it was home and after riding hard for a full day and dealing
with the woads, the stinky hell hole was a welcomed sight. It
felt good to be home and it felt good to be alive in the
company with his mates, Quintus and most recently, the big
burly man himself, Bors.

As the men walked toward the tavern, there was a steady
dialogue going on between them about one thing or another.

Everyone seemed to be light in spirit and Titrus couldn't help
but hope that somewhere, Malcus was feeling the same way.
Perhaps he would be lenient on him and Quintus and ease the
punishment Barbattus had issued before they left. Surely, the
captain's temper had calmed by now and he would be more
reasonably. So Titrus hoped. As they got closer to the tavern,
Quintus moved closer to the lieutenant with a half smirk on
his face.

Quintus
 
“Any of you know her?”


Titrus was just about to ask Quintus to whom he was referring
when out the corner of his eye, Titrus spotted the blond
walking closeby. As he turned to look, Titrus recognized the
undeniable sensous sway of the hips. It was Catherine.

"That there mate, is walking honey," Titrus smiled,
remembering his earlier tryst with the whore.

Despite his bravado, there was a definite shade of crimson
rising on the lieutenant's scruffy cheeks. His randy comment
surprised even himself. Titrus realized with bittersweetness,
that perhaps he really was ready to move on with his life
without his beloved Deeta and that maybe he had been in
mourning long enough. Just then he thought of his precious
daughters but suddenly thoughts of Ione, the beautiful weaver
eased their way into his mind. Ione. Such a kind woman. Titrus
decided to have a couple of drinks with the men, then go to
find her and thank her for her tentativeness.

As he held the door open for the others to enter, Titrus
realized he hadn't eaten all day.

"Hellfire! I'm thirsty AND starving!" Titrus growled.

Bors
 
"We was jus' talkin' about that very fing, Bren 'ere
wants to learn 'ow to drink like a man. Come on then.
First round's on you Tits me ol' mate.


Titrus laughed heartily and slapped Bors on his broad back.

"I'm no mooching whelp, Bors. I said I'm buying so you better
be thirsty. Once the cap'n gets done with me, I won't have
money to buy a piece of bread with! So let's get at mate and I
hope that lovely woman of yours has got some food in here too
because I'm starved! Come on Quint. Bren, tonight you'll drink
like a real man!"

The lieutenant walked behind them and soon they found a table
large enough for them all.

Karl sat at the table with his head hung low, grumbling
incoherently to himself. He'd been drinking for several hours,
since the morning hours with Mirtha, so he wasn't very clear
about the head at all. A loud commotion at the front door made
him curious and he struggled to raise his large cranium high
enough to see what was going on. When his head was upright, he
couldn't tell which was spinning - it, or the room. That only
served to annoy him even more. He squinted his bloodshot blue
eyes and glared at the tavern's entrance. The blond soldier
grunted with disgust when he recognized the men entering the
room. The buggers surely are back, well fuck them! They should
have all died at the hands of the fucking blue demons!

Karl tossed back the remaining contents of his cup and
struggled with everything in him to raise his large bulk off
the wooden bench. When he was standing, he wobbled a bit as he
tried to get his legs under him. Slowly and with great effort,
the big man made his way toward the door, trying to avoid
contact with the other men. However, just as he passed by a
table, he recognized the woman that had ealier puked in his
food and almost on him. Karl glared at her and was about to
chastize her again when he narrowed his gaze and saw Linnesse
sitting with her.

Karl stared at Linnesse with his mouth wide open, totally
confused.

"What the fuck didya do to ya hair?" he asked nastily.

Before she could respond, the drunkard continued in barely
recognizable English,

"Never mind that, I don't give a shit about yer hair. You came
back for me din'cha?"

Karl looked Linnesse up and down.

"But you changed yer clothes too? Whadidyadothatfer? What's it
matter? You din'even need clothes at all with ole Karl," he
snickered lecherously and then stuck out his tongue at the
woman and gyrated his hips once, flashing a partially yellow
smile.
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: Elessars Girl
Date: Tue Jan 13, 2009 9:20 pm
Arthur


A tiny trickle of leftover bath water ran down Arthur’s spine
and pooled at the waistband of his black leather trousers. It
left in its wake smaller still goose bumps that decorated his
back like the prickly dew of a chilly morning frost. His eyes
remained tightly shut. And all that Arthur inhaled was the
lingering earthy scent of the unguent he’d used to shave with.
The flames made a crackling sound as they consumed the
kindling in the hearth, but the warmth they generated did not
reach quite Arthur – oddly enough. Did God not hear his
prayers? Was this emptiness all that Arthur was to feel?

As the bitter sting of the day’s failure finally began to
subside, another much more intimate concern shifted into the
forefront of Arthur’s thoughts….he was to become a father. He
would have a child to protect. And it’s mother…Darya. Arthur
loved her in his own way yet still doubted her ability to
remain faithful – first it had been the previous Optio and
then the harlot….and who knows who else. Arthur had trusted
Darya and she had betrayed him. But he would not abandon his
own flesh and blood…..but…..Arthur would protect himself from
further betrayals.

….and then – as they always did – his thoughts returned to
Lancelot. His fingers attempted to bite into the rough wood
finish of the wash stand. It hurt, but Arthur did not readily
feel it.

I shall have faith in him and faith in that which binds us.

Oh heavenly father….please forgive me and show me what path I
must take…

Arthur’s head was still bowed in prayer when his ears heard
the distinct sound of the door latch click open. But before he
would lift his head to discover whomever it was that now
entered his chambers, Arthur silently completed his
supplicates to his God. Faith is what protected him and his
faith would be his salvation.

Lancelot
 
"Artos, you're here."


Arthur slowly canted his head and opened his eyes to the sound
of that voice. Lancelot ap Ban. First Knight. Best Friend.
Lover. Soul mate. It was all brilliantly clear right there in
that one moment when liquid green eyes met dark amber
orbs….and poignantly so at seeing the smile that graced
Lancelot’s typically cynical angular features.

I have been a fool for far too long.

...and the world snapped into sudden, knife-edged clarity.

“Lancelot,” Arthur spoke the other man’s name gently and with
reverence as the Roman straightened his back and released his
grip on the wash stand. He turned to face Lancelot – no mask,
no stubborn pride and no question in his expression. This is
what was meant to be. Arthur’s gaze traveled the whole length
of the other man and he was pleased to see that his
lieutenant’s appearance was much improved since he’d seen
Lancelot last. Even that black and swollen eye looked less
menacing tonight. Good.

“I am pleased to see that you followed my instruction and
found the baths,” Arthur said with a small smile of his own;
his eyes crinkling at the corners with mirth despite his
weariness. The Roman was genuinely glad to see the other man
and it showed.

“Come…” He extended a hand to Lancelot while he crossed the
room to the chest that held his clothing. The Roman would
dress for bed and talk….for once in his life talk without
boundaries. And he had much to say.

“I have missed you…here,” Arthur added quietly while he placed
the palm of his hand over his heart. His true feelings for
Lancelot were clearly written on his face and there in the
depths of his green, green eyes. The certainty was right there
staring back at Arthur in the way that Lancelot also looked at
him…Hope. Trust. Faith. Truth. Love.

Nothing else mattered.
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: lady ione
Date: Tue Jan 13, 2009 10:03 pm
Brendyn, Vanora, and Ione


Bors
 
"We was jus' talkin' about that very fing, Bren 'ere
wants to learn 'ow to drink like a man. Come on then.
First round's on you Tits me ol' mate."


Titrus
 
"Hellfire! I'm thirsty AND starving!""I'm no mooching
whelp, Bors. I said I'm buying so you better be thirsty.
Once the cap'n gets done with me, I won't have money to
buy a piece of bread with! So let's get at mate and I
hope that lovely woman of yours has got some food in
here too because I'm starved! Come on Quint. Bren,
tonight you'll drink like a real man!"


Brendyn could not agree more with the starving. He could not
recall, but an apple, since he had eaten last... the apple
having been devoured before the meeting earlier in the
morning. He laughed at the joke about his wanting meade, but
it honestly was his favorite drink. It brought him back to the
colder than cold winter nights in Brittany, sitting by the
fire with a hot mug of meade. Well, this was not home, so time
to try other drinks. "I suppose you are a good teacher at the
art of drinking, Bors...." Brendyn's eyes sparkled as he
followed Titrus and the rest through the door of the tavern,
closing it behind him while laughing heartily with the others.

It felt damn good to laugh.

They found a huge table near the fire which felt good... the
heat warming him through. Brendyn removed his cloak and flung
it over the back of his chair. He sat across from the
fireplace, and waited for the others to sit as well.

Vanora looked up and a smile crossed her face.

Bors was home!

As the men walked to the table, she brushed the front of her
apron with her hands, then approached them while they were
seating themselves, "Welcome home. What can I get all of you?"

A movement caught her eye and she saw Karl attempting to leave
the tavern...

Not far from them was Karl, the soldier they had kept back
here at the fort, who was apparently drunk.

Very drunk.

Brendyn's eyes moved from the man to those around the table,
then back. The man just looked like trouble waiting to
happen... and it did.

Ione saw the group come through the door, and her heart leapt
at the sight of Titrus. Thank the gods he had come home
safely! Her soft smile was short lived as she saw the drunken
man stand unsteadily, and try to make it to the tavern door.
As he passed by their table, Ione looked panicked at the man
then at Linnesse, then hoped the man would just leave them
alone.

It was a short lived hope.

The drunk's eyes leered at her, then moved to Linnesse. Once
again, the man's smell made her stomach churn. The weaver
looked over at the men who had entered and hoped that they
would just get this man out of the tavern. When the man's
slurred voice broke the conversation between Linnesse and she,
Ione felt her sadness turn to anger...

Karl
 
"What the fuck didya do to ya hair?" "Never mind that, I
don't give a shit about yer hair. You came back for me
din'cha?" "But you changed yer clothes too?
Whadidyadothatfer? What's it matter? You din'even need
clothes at all with ole Karl,"


Ione's eyes narrowed at the man spoke. This was her friend
that he was insulting. "Leave us alone!" Ione hissed. Her
courage soon began to wane a bit as she realized that this man
could harm them both. The way he was acting frightened her.
Memories of her past came back to haunt her just then the
drunken soldier and his men... the heavy snows, and the feel
of cold chilling her... hands beating her senseless...
blackness... The weaver placed both hands protectively over
the moving child to protect it.

Pleadingly, Ione looked over at Bors and the rest...
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: golden_trillium
Date: Wed Jan 14, 2009 10:39 am
Quintus, Linnesse, and Tristan


Titrus
 
"That there mate, is walking honey."


"Aye," Quintus agreed fervently, his eyes practically glued to
the sight of the blonde woman's neatly swaying bum as she went
over to the counter to order. So intent was the Centurion on
the extremely fetching sight that he heard almost nothing of
what his companions were saying, and in fact had to hurry a
couple of steps to catch up with them at the table which they
had chosen. Honey indeed...Quintus kept eyeing the blonde,
even as Bors' woman came over to take their order, wondering
if there was any chance she was for sale, and, more to the
point, could he afford her. A woman like that could charge
anything she wanted- could be a general's mistress, if she put
her mind to it! But yet here she was hanging around batting
her eyelashes at common soldiers...almost a pity, except that
this way it meant that Quintus had a chance. If the Lieutenant
didn't get to her first.

Table conversation might not have been able to distract
Quintus, but soon enough, something else did. While Vanora was
still standing at their table, waiting for their orders, Karl,
that damned troublemaker, staggered to his feet from a table
behind her and began to lurch his way drunkenly to the tavern
entrance. Despite disappointment at being distracted from the
blonde, Quintus followed Karl with his eyes, intent on just
making sure the man left without incident- but it was not to
be. He stopped by two women sitting at a table and immediately
began to prove what a bastard he was.

Karl
 
"What the fuck didya do to ya hair? Never mind that, I
don't give a shit about yer hair. You came back for me
din'cha? But you changed yer clothes too?
Whadidyadothatfer? What's it matter? You din'even need
clothes at all with ole Karl."


Sitting at the table across from Ione, Linnesse was simply
stunned. The ugly, drunken man was no one she had ever seen
before, and his voice was so badly slurred she could only make
out about one word in three, though she managed to gather that
the man thought she had changed her hair and clothes, and
heard some nasty language. What? Linnesse shook her head
faintly, blue eyes wide, her whole body stiff. She just didn't
know what to do! Across from her, it was Ione who spoke up
first, her hands protectively over her stomach.

Ione
 
"Leave us alone!"


"I...I think you've mistaken me for someone else...sir,"
Linnesse heard herself saying faintly, her voice barely a
whisper and her eyes glued to the man. She did not feel
capable of moving, of doing anything at all- his presence
froze her blood.

Across the open space between the tables, Quintus growled an
irritated oath.

"Oh, for fuck's sake," he grumped, pushing his chair back from
the table preparatory to getting up and throwing Karl out of
the damn tavern by his sorry collar. He had caught the
dark-haired woman's panicked look, and the blonde just seemed
frozen, though her mouth had moved. Was Karl capable of doing
anything without fucking it up? Could he possibly let his
Centurion gaze at beautiful women for two minutes without
needing to be taken to task?

Unseen by either Linnesse or Quintus, the tavern door opened,
and Tristan stepped in, straight from checking on his hawk and
ready for some dinner. He saw immediately that a rather tense
scene was going on, but simply skirted it, figuring it was
none of his business unless he was directly threatened.
Completely unperturbed, he made his way to the bar, where he
leaned his elbows on the wood, waiting for service- and
noticing quite suddenly that Catherine, the blonde whore whom
he had had yesterday, was sitting not too far down the bar,
her back to the counter and her eyes gazing out at the room.
She didn't seem to have noticed him, yet...but Tristan's eyes
were drawn to her, thoughtfully. She had been very nice,
yesterday, and he had been sorry to cut things short...but
then again, perhaps she was busy, and he didn't want to bother
her. He remained there, fighting a certain amount of
indecision, as he waited for one of the wenches to bring him
some food.
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: Unicorn
Date: Wed Jan 14, 2009 11:01 am
Dagonet


Linnette
 
“I know. Sor…”


Dagonet looked at her meaningfuly. No apologise where needed!
He agreed and wanted to help her if he could. Even if it broke
his own heart and his own sorrow wasn't diminished. He felt
helpless about the situation. Not many days have passed after
he had lost his son... and now he was sitting here as a model
for a picture of Gedeon. It made his heart beat very hard
against his chest. He was calm on the outside but inside, he
felt very nervous and out of place. This shouldn't happen, he
repeated in his mind.

There should be no need of making the drawing of Gedeon...
Gedeon should become a father and Dagonet should help him in
growing his child... He should help him and Linnette in being
there for them. And now he helped broken Linnette to have
something, some image of Gedeon that she would show to her
child... half orphan. It shouldn't be like that...

Mari
 
"Oops.."


Dagonet looked back at Mari and saw her smile at him, so he
answered her with the same, but much more weaker smile. He
tried to encourage her, Linnette wanted this... even if his
heart cried the opposite.

Linnette
 
“Here! It’s that book I showed you last night- Mari and
I liked the beginning of it. Perhaps you’d like to hear
it, too?” It’s called Gloriana, a Tale of Adventure,”


Knight looked back at Linnette with a slight frown as she came
closer with a book. His face expression changed into more
brighter one... It made the tense situation in the room
change... into much more easier to breathe. Dagonet was not
laughing at the words Linnette read, but in some parts a
cheerful smile appeared. He also watched Saoirse from the
corner of his eyes. Wishing they would be alone right now...
that they would just stay together and wouldn't have to think
about sorrowful things...

Mari
 
"I think I have what I need.."


Dagonet looked at Mari with surprise. Already? He tried to
notice what have she drawn.

"Already?" he asked and his heart again geting tensed... Does
this will help Linnette in any way?

Or was it vain try?
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: golden_trillium
Date: Wed Jan 14, 2009 9:01 pm
Linnette


Mari
 
”I think I have what I need…”


Dagonet
 
”Already?”


“That was fast!” Linnette exclaimed, shutting the book and
popping up once more to stand behind Mari, where she could get
a good look at the sketch the girl had made. She peered at it
thoughtfully, pursing her lips, and tilting her head to look
at it from first this angle, then that.

It was Dagonet. That leaped out at her immediately- Mari
obviously had a great talent for drawing what she saw, and the
face looking at Linnette from the paper right now was,
unmistakably, that of Dagonet. Parts of it might be rough and
sketchy, with a few stray pencil lines going this way and
that, but it was immediately recognizable as the man in front
of them. And not as Gedeon. Linnette frowned, her brow
creasing worriedly between her eyebrows, but then quickly
suppressed the frown and summoned a reassuring smile for Mari.
This was what Mari had said she would do, after all- draw
Dagonet first, and then change or add details from Linnette’s
description of Gedeon. Linnette really shouldn’t be expecting
anything else- but that didn’t mean it wasn’t disappointing,
at least momentarily. What if the drawing never looked like
anyone other than Dagonet at all?

“It’s good- it’s very good.” Linnette nodded vigorously, as
though trying to convince herself- though her words were no
lie, in that the drawing was exquisitely well done for a quick
sketch- and belatedly reached down and turned an edge of the
paper so that Dagonet himself could see the drawing. She had
realized only now that he had been craning his neck awkwardly
to see it. Saoirse peered over curiously, too, from the window
ledge where she had been, quite incongruously, carving along
the shaft of a spear with a knife, and Linnette tilted the
paper a little more, letting both of them see the sketch.




The story continues in New Alliances- A New Dawn (on the main NA board).
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