New Alliances- The Governor's Visit

Brendyn

“Whenever it is convenient for you… I know you are very busy,” Brendyn looked thoughtfully at her. Alainia could not have that much as far as possessions, so it could not be a problem to help her move her things here. “I could help you move whatever you have here,” He finished as he straightened his cloak. As he finished, Brendyn looked up to see that she was finished dressing, and he had to admire how the dress flattered her body, and how the color brought out the blue in her eyes: The dark blue of the dress and the silvery white stitches…

Brendyn was about to say something when Alainia finally found what she was looking for: Her boots that had been hidden by the furs they had rumpled up. “Perhaps we can bathe after the feast is over,” Brendyn whispered feeling somewhat guilty that she was still a bit stiff from their joining. If it was not for the fact that he was a soldier in Arthur’s legion, Brendyn would have taken the time to take her to the baths to soak. He made a note to stay long enough to make an appearance then he would take her to the baths to soak her sore body…

He took the leather band from her hand and tied the bunch of soft wavy curls into a neat ponytail that hung in soft swirls down her back. Turning her back to face him, Brendyn moved to her side and offered her his arm, “Shall we go then? We won’t stay long, and then we can go to the baths and soak, before retiring.”
Brendyn looked down at the young woman next to him, “You look lovely, Alainia.”

(((ooc: Feel free to take them to the feast, Alainia … )))

Linnette, Linnesse, and Tristan

His face softened, lines of pain deepened- and then his hand came up again, not in a fist, but open and relaxed, and lightly brushed against her cheek. Relief washed over Linnette, and she allowed herself to blink for the first time since offering her ‘challenge’ to Dagonet. He wasn’t going to do it. He really wasn’t. Of course, she had known he wouldn’t really hit her- that was the whole reason she had stepped in front of him, to force the issue like that- but there was always an element of uncertainty when faced with angry men. After all, it was awfully out of character for Dagonet to hit Drake, too, so who knew? Linnette might have known- but until now, when his fingers brushed her cheek with infinite gentleness, she hadn’t known.

“Of course not,” Linnette murmured, tilting her cheek just slightly into Dagonet’s huge hand and looking into his face with sympathy now, wishing, as she always did every time she saw him, that she could somehow take some of the pain away. Impossible, apparently- Dagonet withdrew his hand from her cheek and pointed it at Drake, anger coloring his tone again. Drake, for his part, bristled anew at that- Linnette could feel it even without looking him, perhaps through some subtle shift in the pressure of his hand on her upper arm, perhaps something even less easy to define. Linnette just hoped things didn’t blossom into violence again- and resolved anew to stand her ground between the two men as long as necessary to prevent it.

“Father…” Linnette began to protest half-heartedly. What was she supposed to say to that? It was the same as it had been before. There was nothing she could say, because nothing would make it any better. She wasn’t a comfort to Dagonet, and couldn’t be. She was just a reminder. Just…more new arrivals, before she could continue down that train of thought. Arthur appeared through the crowd, people parting in waves to allow him to approach, and from a different angle, Saoirse scooted to Dagonet’s side, taking his arm and looking as ready to defend him as Linnette had been to defend Drake. It was faintly ridiculous, two tiny women mutually ready to unsheath their claws on behalf of their respective big, powerful men. Arthur, however, quickly took command.

She should say something. Linnette held Dagonet’s gaze still, but nothing reassuring came to mind, nothing comforting. Nothing at all. Nothing that she hadn’t tried already. He wasn’t Gedeon, after all. He was a completely different person, and maybe he didn’t want anything she had to give, after all.

Linnette tipped her head slightly to the side, echoing her movement when Dagonet had touched her cheek. Behind her, Drake shifted in a little closer, his arm snaking around her waist, and she set her hand on his with a firm, but brief pressure- just an acknowledgement, and a very simple, silent thanks. But no more. She would not offend Dagonet by showing any more affection in his presence. It served no purpose, not when he was leaving, anyway. She dropped her hand, still feeling she ought to say something- to Saoirse, maybe, even if not to Dagonet himself.

“I wish…” she started quietly, then broke off. There were a lot of things she wished. They hardly mattered now. It was best that Dagonet just left and got some time to cool off- without her. Saoirse would see to him.

Linnette blew out a breath, her shoulders slumping; her head turned a little bit toward Drake, but remained downcast, her arms limp at her sides. On the other side of Drake, Linnesse, given the go-ahead nod by Arthur, moved in with her dampened towel and now made bold enough to dab at the corner of Drake’s mouth, where a streak of blood still marred his lip and cheek.

“Are any of your teeth loose? Did you bite your tongue?” Linnesse’s voice sounded rather annoyed, but she kept up her healerly hovering and dabbing with increasing confidence, even standing up on tiptoe to get a better angle. Dislike for Drake aside, she was in her element, or at least working up to it very rapidly; Linnette, on the other hand, just wanted the whole situation to go far, far away.

“Linnesse…” she protested quietly, now raising her head and eying the spectators that stood around uncomfortably. She hadn’t realized how many people had gathered, but it was quite a few- and while they were starting to drift back to other activities, their little group was still the focus of much too much attention for Linnette’s taste.

A few people away, Tristan, having detached himself from Galahad and Lancelot, was also keeping an eye on things- most specifically on Dagonet. The whole drama surrounding Gedeon’s widow and her new man didn’t matter a bit to him- people in general wasted far too much time worrying about things like that, in Tristan’s opinion- but he just wanted to make sure that Dagonet did indeed leave the tavern and didn’t have an immediate opportunity to tell Arthur about the plan to rescue the Sarmatian prisoner. If that was even on Dagonet’s mind anymore.

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Brigit

She could hear people singing, talking, and laughing mingled with the aroma's of the food and drink.

Frankly, it was a lot to take in for someone who was blind, and Brigit found herself liking the party less and less. She silently ate her food while the nun chatted at her every once in a while, but Brigit found herself tiring from the day, as so much had happened to her.

Wonderous and wonderful things such as finally "seeing " and meeting Arthur, walking with Adian, and to cap it all off... meeting Galahad. When she thought of it, Brigit had not stopped all day, and she was beginning to feel very exhausted. Carefully getting up from her chair, Brigit felt for her wrap, and said softly, "Sister Agetha, if you are ready, I would like to go back to the convent."

The nun smiled, "I am ready as well, child."

Getting up from her spot, the nun moved next to Brigit and took the girl's arm...

Alainia

As she reached his side, he whispered in a guilty tone,

She smiled up at him as he pulled her hair tie to make the braided ponytail, and said with a gentle chiding in her voice as she handed him his cloak and wrapped hers around her own shoulders, "It isn't like I was saying 'no' Brendyn. And I seem to remember you letting me control our second round of love making."

She paused, placed her hand on his cheek and said soothingly for his guilty conscience, "I knew it would hurt before this Brendyn, and I'm not in too much pain. It's just awkward and annoying that some people will know I"m no longer a virgin simply by the way I shall be walking tonight."

She blushed prettily as he offered her his arm,

She, even though they were 'promised' for lack of another word to each other, wasn't used to such gallantry and was very happy and flattered as she lovingly wrapped her her hand into the crook of his elbow, the proper place as etticicate demanded an unwed woman to do, and said as they reached his locked door and she placed the bunch of flowers in the belt he wore around his trim waist, "Yes, let's go."

As she reached to unlock it and open the oak door, he got her attention by saying,

She gave him a warm smirk and said with a light feminine snort, "I'm sure I look a fright as this is an old dress and the cloak is dull from multiple washes this season due to all the rain and mud, but I do thank you for those words Brendyn."

She turned to face him fully and said, "I mean it, it's nice to hear that I'm pretty; no one since my parents have ever said so..."

Then her stomach made it's presence known by protesting their slowness in moving towards the tavern.

Loudly.

She blushed and dipped her head as she opened the door.

She couldn't believe that she had revealed that like she had. She had never told anyone that she had never heard those words before.

She mentally thanked her stomach for being so obvious and demanded just then, and promised to stuff it as full as it could possibly get.

For no man had ever taken her seriously enough as a beau, and she was more focused on healing to make the effort in a relationship even if she had looked her best everyday of her life.

The sudden chill hit her still cooling empassioned body and caused her to freeze up and grip Brendyn's aarm to her chest unconsciosly in an effort to hold in her body heat.

"Oh it cold!" she exclaimed as they made their way quickly through the alleyways.

She glanced up at him and asked because her curiousity demanded it of her, "What do you think of the Govenors's arrival Brendyn? I might not by as knowledgable of such things, but I would think that it's a bit early for annual evaluations, isn't it?"

She perked up and grinned as her stomach, once again made itself known by grumbling loudly, and said, "Finally! There's the tavern!"

She paused as the scents on the wind hit her nose and she breathed in with rellish and asked, "Oooo, doesn't that smell delicious Brendyn?"

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Dagonet

Dagonet watched as the strain and uncertainty washed away from Linnette's face as he touched her cheek. Gods, how he wished that he would be able to protect her, to comfort her. But insted he was just no hurting her by his actions. It would seem that everything he decide to do turns around and hit him with more force. He knew that he shouldn't react in the way he had, but what else could he do? What would make his pain and Linnette's sorrow go away?

She titled her cheek into his palm and Dagonet frowned even more in pain now at the look of her sympathy. He knew that she wanted good, that she wished this situation to be different. She was a good woman and Dagonet somewhere in the back of his mind knew that she would not be with Drake if he wasn't a good man also. At least she knew that he wouldn't hurt her. For that he was greatful to the heavens above, that she understood this. He had never wanted her to be afraid of him... never wanted her to be uncertain about his feelings. He wished so much to take away the pain she was feeling from the moment Gedeon died. He wished it so much that it squeezed his mind and heart so thight that he could not feel at ease beside her. He wanted so much to bring her relief that he felt tensed with her in the same room, afraid of doing something that would hurt her.

Could she not see that he was trying to protect her? Right now in this moment... But maybe he was trying only to protect his own memory of what used to be, what should be from what was now.

As anger filled him again and he pointed towards Drake his eyes left her and met with the cold stare of Drake.

Weak protest from Linnette didn't make him feel different, didn't moved him away he just stood there like solid rock awaiting for Drake to do something, to protest to argue with him, to hit him back, anything. But nothing had came from his side.
Dagonet was ready to continue with the fight, he was ready to do something that would stop this tense silence between them. He was ready to do something!
But there was a shuffle on his side and somebody came to him, locking hands upon his arm.

He looked down at his side, at his lover just briefly before his hard stare returned to Drake, daring him to do something. What would he tell Saoirse now? What had he done? He was ruining everything! He was afraid of meeting Saoirse in the evening. He was nothing than big failure after the day. He could not ride a horse, he was useless in everything he touches today. And now this!
He was afraid to tell Saoirse about everything. He was afraid to get a worried glance of her or her angry reproach of how stupid he must be to ride a horse even if he feel pain in his side. He didn't want either of those. He was going to avoid his lover this evening, now this was not possible. He knew it was not fair for her... But it was the only way not to hurt her also.

And then before anything else had happened Arthur came. Dagonet's heart skipped a bit at the arrival of his commander. His mind already raced many possibilities of how this will end now. He was standing on the wrong side of the fight and he knew this. Dagonet rised his chin a little higher as Arthur's eye met with his.

Dagonet was lookinf at Arthur without any movement for longer moment. Leave? Just get out of here? Tall knight inhaled deeply now and tried to cool his emotions down, which was harder than he thought. His anger always was like a flare of fire, quick and extremely dangerous, but died fast. Right now the anger wasn't passing away so quickly. It was lingering inside him mingling with the pain he felt. His eyes weren't leaving Arthur's for now...
He knew that Arthur was trying to stop this situation to evolve. That he was giving him a time to walk away when he still has a chance for it. And he knew that Arthur could react in other way, he could call for guards, he could throw Dagonet into dangues for what he had done. But instead Arthur chose to give him a chance. Tall knight looked again at Drake than at Linnette and back at his commander, no words escaping him this time, only giving him a pointed, thight stare.
He noticed how Drake was again touching Linnette in comforting matter.
And this time it broke his heart instead of fueling his anger. He looked away and turned his back to them all.

Dagonet allowed Gawain to brush his shoulder he would even mindlessly allow him to grasp it and take him out of the tavern, cause in that moment there was no option. He wanted to leave this place, he felt his throat squeezed and his heart bumping too loudly in his ears.

Dagonet merely looked over his shoulder at this, gave her one last brief emotionless look and started to walk away.
Gawain was still by his side, as well as Saoirse on the other side. His fists again forming. He could do nothing! Nothing at all! This thought made him even more angry and right now his frustration was going to extreme. But he ordered himself to squeeze it inside himself. To fight the pain, anger and frustration down. He didn't want to be like that. He didn't want to feel like this...

Swiftly without looking at anybody in particular Dagonet walked out of the tavern. He looked firstly at Gawain then at Saoirse but now words have came out of him. He indeed needed to cool himself down.

"I think that I should..." he started uncertain of what he was going to do. He shook his head and looked away from them both. His hand went to massage his temple for a second with a long breath out accompanying. "I don't know what I should..." he admitted and shook his head. "Damn it..." this was now only a whisper now from between his gritted teeth. He felt anger still and tried to deal with this whole situation but felt now, here lost.

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His words were barely out of his mouth before Galahad had left Tristan and Lancelot behind, his one and only goal in mind was getting to the food tables as quick as possible. He pushed through the people milling about the scent of roasted beef and freshly baked bread teasing his senses. His poor stomach how he had neglected it today – nothing but an oat cake for lunch! The brunette made a quick promise to his stomach that tonight he would make up for neglecting it so much throughout the day. After all the food was free and Galahad was never a man to turn down a free meal – especially if it came at the expenses of the Romans!

Once at the food table Galahad loaded his plate up with everything one could possibly imagine. Vegetables, fruit, cheese, juicy chicken and piles upon piles of freshly roasted beef. He cursed loudly as the bread roll he was trying to balance on the top rolled off for a third time. Catching it before he fell, Galahad growled, a warning for the roll to stay in place this time or he would seriously have to eat it before he sat down. Shoving the bread onto his overloaded plate the curly haired knight turned around and carefully began to manoeuvre his way closer to the tables.

He had just about reached the tables when someone stepped in his way. Looking up the young Knight was just about to growl in annoyance when he saw the most beautiful dark eyes he had ever seen in his life. With a blink Galahad realised it was Bridgit, the beautiful women from earlier.

“Bridgit?” Galahad choked, his roll tumbling off his plate and landing unceremoniously on the floor. “Bridgit, it’s me, Galahad….”

(OOC: Does anyone else want to slap the pup upside the head or is it just me?!)

Vanora

Vanora observed the whole scene with squeezed heart. She was also looking still around for either Bors or Arthur, only them could make Dagonet calm down. She knew it. It was good though that Drake hadn't hit back. Even so the situation was geting serious.
She wanted to walk between Drake and Dagonet in the moment they both decided to fight in another place. But she remained still as it was Linnette who stood between the angry men.
Vanora watched and prayed to the gods for her lover to come now. He should be here! Damn it!

Linnette told the big knight to hit her and with that Vanora moved a little closer wanting to see Dagonet's face more clearly. She knew the knight for many years, and considered him brother in law as Bors was her lover and they were the best friends here. She knew him very well and was confident that he would not strike Linnette. He very rarely got angry. But lately... his contact with Bors and with that also Vanora's contact with Dagonet wasn't so close now. Vanora missed thier conversations but if the man wasn't ready that was alright. In truth she was going to bang Bors's head for not talking to the man more often!

And as their relations weren't so easy and so good lately Vanora was afraid that she didn't know really what Dagonet would do in this situation.
He was accusing Drake. Could he not see that this will bring her happiness? That she needed somebody that close? Vanora knew how it must have to feel being pregnant without a man. She had seen it many times and she was afraid of losing Bors too many times.

In fact she was happy to see Arthur arrive. She knew he won't let this situation develop in something worse. If only Dagonet would listen and just leave...
And he did.

Vanora blew out a breath of relief and walked towards the whole commotion. She looked at Arthur leting him know that she was there if he would need anything. Then her eyes moved to Drake and both sisters.

"You can go to the kitchen..." she suggested quietly in their direction. She then looked around the people gathered and still watching the couple and Arthur.

"What are you looking at? Get out of here and have some food and fun!" her was merely pushed over the limit of annoyence, nothing more. It helped as some of the people started to move away and soon others followed. The whole accident slowly being forgotten.

Vanora shook her head and looked back at Linnette and Drake. She hoped that this was the first and only situation like this. And it was good that Governor had not been involved. It could end in much more worse way than it had.

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Neeve

Neeve’s watchful blue eyes never really left the argument between Dagonet and Drake. She just briefly exchanged a meaningful look with Gawain when the blonde knight approached his kinsman…but other than that her focus was almost entirely on the scene around and apparently about Linnette. The healer did, however, notice Arthur joining the crowd by the kitchen…and when the Commander finally gently but firmly interfered, she found herself easing up a little, confident that things would calm down now. After all, Arthur always managed to calm such situations down…in a fair way for all involved. Another reason why she admired this specific Roman so much and was eternally grateful to call him the best friend she had.

When Dagonet did as Arthur said and left the tavern accompanied by Saoirse and Gawain, Neeve finally actually paid some attention to the buffet again; but it was more just looking than actually taking something. All the Briton picked up was an apple and just when she was about to take a good bite from it…

Arching an eyebrow, the raven-haired woman turned her head slightly to glance at the person that was obviously trying to make conversation with her. The person turned out to be a blonde man, not very tall, with eyes almost similar to her own. He was a stranger though. Neeve knew pretty much everyone at Badon…but she had never seen this man here before. And that broad grin of his was…disturbing… At least from Neeve’s point of view…

“There are never too few hungry mouths at this place…”, the healer commented dryly and used the sleeve of her dark top to polish the apple in her hand, “…new ones arrive like constantly…” With that, her eyebrow quivered slightly to underline her words before she turned on her heels, now standing with her back towards the buffet tables.

“I am…someone else…”, Neeve just replied, not exactly seeing any reason in giving away any information about herself to a complete stranger who just happened to come along, “…enjoy the feast…”, she added and then made her way through the crowd until she seemingly randomly happened to stand at the bar again…right next to the nameless patient (Donnchadh) this time.

“Numbing the pain with ale?”, she idly asked the still ragged looking man, “…or trying to find a familiar face…somehow?” The Briton leaned leaned backwards against the bar and glanced sideways at the man after she had finally taken a bite from her apple…

((ooc: Sorry, Livi...typical Neeve reaction to total strangers that are not patients here :lol: :eyeroll: ))

Amadeus:

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Amadeus epitomised Roman leadership as he entered the tavern. His boots gleamed, his cloak was immaculate and resplendent in bright red, his hair was oiled into place and his clean shaven jaw was silkey smooth. Chilly grey eyes scanned the tavern as Arthur left the table and he looked in the direction of where the Commander went. Probably one of his Sarmatians frothing at the mouth...

Oh the Optio looked the part of leadership but he was not the kind of leader that Badon Hill needed. There was hardly a face he recognised amongst the common folk of Badon Hill - all plebian people in rags and covered in filth as far as he was concerned. No... Amadeus Scipio was epitomising everything in Roman leadership - but lacked wholly in Roman military competency. The faces he did recognise were amongst the soldiering forces and only because he had been speaking with a number of them to gauge their allegiance - be it to Rome, to Britain or to Arthur.

"Indeed..." Amadeus murmured, coming around to stand behind a seat next to the Governor. He looked along the length of the table at the food offered and resisted the urge to sigh in malcontent. Well - it was probably the best that the keep had to offer but surely someone as well stationed as the Governor should have received something more... elaborate than what was before him? The Optio lifted his eyebrows and let his shrewd grey gaze turn towards Arthur but his line of sight was blocked by the approach of a woman to the table. Nay - not a woman, a lady!

His chin lifted as he looked down at the woman standing before them as she greeted them both formally. Well - she was a pretty thing in her own way.

Amadeus came around the front of the table as he was introduced to Decima. His interest was piqued upon hearing she was the Governor's ward. She was older and unmarried. Something that must have weighed on the conscience of the Governor. It would serve his reputation with the Governor well to show the woman due attention and compliment.

"Decima - it is a pleasure to meet you." he said, smiling handsomely and taking her hand. He gestured towards the seats the Governor had suggested and started to walk towards them, still holding Decima's hand gently in his own. He looked over his shoulder at her when the Governor spoke of how good the food was and gave her a secret smile, leaning down to speak quietly, for her ears alone.
"The food is truly ordinary. Though I wuold imagine it will taste divine after so long on the road. How find you Badon Hill?" he queried, pulling her seat back and casting a glance towards Arthur and then to the Governor, ensuring the man observed how pleasant and amicable he was being with his ward.

A woman stood before their table - a familiar face around the fortress but a commoner that the Optio had no need to learn the name of. He reached his hand up to the catch at his neck that held his cloak closed about his strong shoulders, watching with mild interest as the woman introduced herself.

((ooc: editted post!! Sorry Ione - totaly missed Ione at the table in your post!! That's what I get for skimming :kidding: ))

Arthur:

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Sometimes Arthur hated the position he maintained at Badon Hill. To always be aloof of what was happening beneath his nose, to always hold himself above the daily struggles of his men, to retain some sort of distance to those that he truly cared about. Seeing Dagonet so broken and knowing that he could do nothing, not a damn thing, was hard. But knowing that it was his orders that brought Gedeon to his death, knowing that they had not had not even recovered the body... it gnawed at Arthur more than he could ever admit. The death of those under his command was always upon his shoulders alone.

Arthur nodded his head at Gawain, satisfied the man knew what he was doig, and turned his intense green eyes up at Dagonet. The Sarmatian seemed still intent on fighting but he was getting nowhere fast with Linnette's pretty little face looking up at him, and Drake's stony yet unflappable presence behind her.

The Commander looked away from the tenderness that Linnette clearly felt for Dagonet, how helpless she felt in teh face of his grief. Her own grief must have been immense but she bore it with the grace that God granted to women. They were truly the most loved of God's creations for they were so fragile, so beautifully vulnerable and yet so incredibly strong. They bore the hardship of tending their homes alone, they bore the pain of bearing their sons and they bore the sorrow of losing their beloved husbands so brutally and suddenly.

Dagonet said nothing.

Arthur looked at the man as he stalked otu of the tavern with Gawain and Saoirse trailing behind. He sighed in relief and looked towards Linnette and Linnesse and Drake - who was being dabbed at by the healer. Vanora came over and Arthur raked a hand through his hair, greatful for the calming, I'll-sort-the-rest-out attitude of the tavern keeper. He gave her a wry, shaky smile.

Arthur gave a shaky laugh as she harshly dismissed those who had gawped at the scene before them. Without thought he placed a hand on her shoulder and gave it a tight, greatful squeeze. He looked over at Drake who was stoically suffering Linnesse's dabbing hand at his wounded mouth. Taking a deep breath, Arthur nodded his head at the former soldier - the silent communication between fighting men. The silent nod questionning whether all was well, - and Drake nodded in return, the silent nod responding that all was ok.

Commander turned from the scene and looked towards the table where Decima had joined the others. As he walked back to teh table he looked around, giving a smile of greeting to Galahad who had joined the party. Darya was at a table with a woman and seemed to be enjoying herself. A stir of emotions swirled in teh Roman's stomach at the thought of perhaps taking her up on the offer of a dance. His footsteps took him in her direction though it would not lead him directly back to the head table. Just as he arrived at her table he spotted another familiar, noticably absent earlier, face - Lancelot.

Arthur lifted his chin unconsciously, curious as to where the man had been all day- but thought it best not to approach him about it just now. It was their habit of late for the most mundane of conversations to turn itno an argument. Arthur still reeled from the Knight's suggestion to leave Badon Hill. He only hoped that idea had left the First Knight's mind for now.

Darya sat before him with another woman who Arthur nodded at in greeting.
Placing a hand on the Sarmatian woman's shoulder to gain her attention, Arthur smiled down at his lover.

"Pardon the interruption, ladies, I just wanted to make sure that you were enjoying the food." he said with what he hoped was a tone that did not belie his pleasure at seeing her so enthusiastic about her food. Her previous record with eating during stressful times.

Decima

Oh dear. As the governor formally introduced her to the Optio, she could practically see the wheels turning in the governor's head. Another eligible, single man -- and one who dressed well. Scipio, the simpering fool, either did not realize that being so polite would pique the governor's interest, or he didn't mind at all. That sent Decima's mind reeling.

Oh please, no. She did not want the marriage question to be so easily settled. Hopefully something would happen to distract the governor from that idea for a while.

"The pleasure is mine," Decima murmured politely as he took her hand and guided her to a seat at the table. He pulled a chair out for her and she seated herself.

The Optio leaned closer, his breath tickling against her ear as he spoke in a low, almost flirtatious voice.

She looked at the food arrayed before them and found no fault. However...maybe having the Optio as a 'friend' could be useful to the governor. She flashed a smile at the Optio, feeling a blush creep up her face when she spotted Caius approach the table.

Oh no. Still, there was nothing she could do. The governor was asking for help, and this might be one of the keys to giving him the aide he required. Caius would understand. Not, she thought hastily, that there was anything for him to understand. He was a friend, nothing more. Right?

Focusing on the Optio again, Decima purred, "The journey was long, but perhaps there is something here at the fort to look forward to after all."

Where had she learned to flirt? Surprised at herself, Decima kept the smile on her face and continued, "This isn't my first visit here, but the company seems better." She cast a keen glance over him and then she glanced up as a familiar figure caught her eye.

Ione was greeting the governor. The last time Decima had seen Ione, she had been recovering from the punishment the former Optio had inflicted upon her. Well, the weaver seemed to have recovered quite well. In fact, she had a slight glow to her.

Decima was uncertain as to what to say to her, but she was saved from the trouble when Lancelot wandered over to them. She wrinkled her nose, as would be 'proper' of a Roman lady -- not that it was much of an act. The First Knight certainly looked a little worse for wear and he reeked of several 'manly' odors.

What was he thinking? Was he trying to get Arthur demoted? If she could have thrown something at him, she would have. She indicated for the Optio to be seated beside her while she watched the scene unfold with wide and interested eyes.

((OOC: I hope this made sense and that I didn't miss anything -- I'm writing on the go today! My apologies if someone was missed.))

Saoirse:

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Yes, it was quite ridiculous that the two women stood beside and before their men, prickled and willing to defend them despite both men being big and ugly enough to look after themselves. Saoirse had no idea what was going on - she had no idea what had provoked the scene - all she knew was that she was on Dagonet's side and she was damn well going to prove it. Arthur ordered Gawain to leave with Dagonet, and encouraged Saoirse to go along. The red head prickled and looked over at the Commader with sharp, accusing blue eyes - as if he were taking Linnette's side instead of Dagonet's.
But her respect for the Roman far outstretched her ire against Linnette and Drake so she dropped her heated blue gaze almost immediately.

Dagonet turned suddenly and Saoirse was left standing alone for a moment. She gave one last look at Linnette, accusing, before turning and hurrying after her lover. Once outside she almost walked into his back as he stood with his hands massaging his temples. Her heart broke at the sorry sight of him and she felt all her earlier doubts resurface about whether she could be for him what he needed rather than what he wanted.

Saoirse looked at Gawain as if he might not know what to say or do. Her red hair was whipped away from her face by the wind and she pulled her coat tight about her slight form. She took a deep breath and stepped around in front of the Sarmatian. Two courses of action stood before her - she could weep for him or she could stand strong and support him in her own unique way.
She opted for the latter.

Her head tilted to the side, her pretty blue eyes narrowed and her lips pursed as she looked up at the torn man before her.

"Then do nothin'." she said succinctly, glancing at Gawain once as if confirming he would agree with her. The Irishwoman shuffled her feet for warmth and pointed a finger at Dagonet's chest, not harshly, but certain sure of what she was about to say nonetheless. "Ye have t'stop thinkin' tha' ye can fix this, Dagonet. Ye can't. No one can. Gedeon, yer injury... none of it is yer fault. Gawain - tell him it's not his fault." she demanded, stepping back one step and feeling a discomforted flutter in her stomach, uncertainty over this approach warring with her need to do just as she was telling Dagoent he could not do ... fix the broken.

Donnchadh:

(Posted Image)

The stew warmed him from inside. It was too salty but it was warm and the helping was generous. More importantly - it was free. The wounded man sat amongst fit, healthy and boisterous soldiers, listening to their rabble with half an ear. His black eyes were constantly moving, as if he were a guilty thing, seeking anything in the room to make his mind conjure familiarity. Nothing was working so he persisted- taking sips of pipign hot stew and looking. His gaze wandered to Neeve occassionally and he gave a wry grin and roll of his eyes as a man approached her, all smiles and simpers.
The man was insane if he thought he could thaw that chilly bitch, Donnchadh thought to himself though the sentiment was not intended as an insult to his mind.

Something was going on over by the kitchen which drew forward a green eyed man who was obviously in charge. Donnchadh picked a piece of meaty grizzle from his teeth and observed the man curiously. There was nothing familiar about him unfortunately though.

The man was taken by surprise as Neeve came to stand next to his place by the bar. Donnchadh raised his eyebrow as he looked sideways at her looking at him sideways. He scowled at her presumption and shrugged one massive shoulder as he looked down at the almost finished bowl of stew. He had a feeling she might go all healer on him and insist on taking him back to the infirmary when he had no intention on returning there until he a) he fell over, or b) was dead. Either option was fine with him at this stage.

"Hmph. The ale is as weak as piss. No chance of drowning my demons. Even if there was a chance, knowing my luck the bastards would know how to swim." he muttered with stark discontent, tipping his cup towards him and looking at the yellowy liquid with a curl to his lips. Narrowing his black eyes, Donnchadh looked Neeve up and down, her undeniably fine figure accentuated by the clothes she wore. Her ungainly height still had her a few centimetres shorter than himself but still... she was a pretty woman, single and surrounded by men who used women like things to be discarded - and she stood sucking on an apple as if it was not an arousing sight. Donnchadh cocked an eyebrow at her.

"Enjoying yourself I see." he muttered darkly, feeling a peculiar sense of annoyance at her for standing there innocently eating an apple....

Governor Septimus Agrippa

Ah- promising already. The Governor smiled approvingly as the Optio courteously helped Decima to a seat, then leaned over to say something in her ear- and…by Heaven, was that a flirtatious tone in Decima’s voice when she replied? The Governor’s smile grew broader, but he concealed it almost immediately by turning half away and taking a sip of wine, giving the two a semblance of privacy- or at least no one else immediately listening in on their conversation. Not obviously, anyway.

And as it turned out, there was another distraction at hand, anyway. The Governor set down his wine goblet to see a brown-haired woman, not unattractive, but dressed very simply, approaching the table. She appeared to be a commoner- certainly she was no one he had been introduced to during his afternoon being shown around the fort- but she did not appear to be a serving woman, for she carried no tray, towel, or any other accoutrement of that profession. She approached the table across from the Governor and dropped a deep, respectful curtsy.

So the woman knew Decima? The Governor cast a curious glance over at his ward, but saw nothing particular on her face in response to that. Turning back to the woman, he nodded in acceptance of her gesture.

“Is there something I might do for you, miss?” he inquired politely, wondering if she had perhaps come to petition about some matter in her life. Some family situation or business matter she wanted addressed- who knew. There was always somebody with some problem, no matter where he went, who thought that if they just brought it to the attention of the Governor all would be solved. Well, might as well hear her out. Out of the corner of his eye the Governor spotted his standard bearer, Caius, also arriving at the table, and gave the man a tiny nod indicating that he could sit down and eat- and following him, a singularly scruffy dirty-looking fellow with dark, curly hair who plopped himself down immediately in a seat and began to scoop food onto his plate after the most perfunctory greeting. A fine display of Sarmatian manners, apparently- Septimus recognized him Lancelot, Arthur’s oh-so-vaunted First Knight. Well, he ate like a barbarian, to say the least.

Tristan and Quintus

Satisfied that Dagonet- and Gawain, happily- was being ushered out of the tavern for now, and that Arthur was not following, the scout relaxed his posture just a hair and began to make his way towards the buffet table. He got quite a few looks, disapproving or just surprised, as he passed- and no wonder, he had come essentially straight from crawling on his belly in the mud to here, with only a ride and a quick sojourn in the stables in between. A bit of water in the stables had taken the worst of it off his face and hands, but still- there was no way around it. He was filthy, and supremely unconcerned by it. Women actually drew their skirts away from him as he passed. Whatever.

"Good eats!" Centurion Quintus remarked enthusiastically, brandishing a full plate as Tristan approached the end of the table, and the scout gave a nod and a tiny, tiny fraction of a smile. Maybe. Unperturbed, not having really expected much answer anyway, Quintus left the scout dishing up his plate and began casting about for a place to sit. He spotted Emogen and was rather intrigued by that possibility for a moment- until he realized that not only was she sitting across from the Commander's woman, but the Commander himself had just approached them and was now making conversation! Well- she had come up in the world since he had met her that morning, to be in such exalted company! Nevertheless, the Centurion didn't feel quite- well, quite forward enough to just approach her now, with the Commander and his lady right there. Instead, he moved over to a table occupied by various members of his squad, and assorted associated women.

"Move over, Gaius," the Centurion ordered the man on the end cheerfully, giving him a jocular swat on the upper arm. Gaius did so readily enough, and the Centurion plunked down his plate, casting another glance over at Emogen as he did so. She wasn't too far away- just across an aisle and down a bit. He'd see easily if she got up, or if the Commander went elsewhere and left him more of an opening.




(ooc: Tris and Quin are both approachable if anyone wants to :dance:)

Ione

The young weaver stood proudly, chin high, and posture straight even though she body was tired and in need of sleep. Ione had never gotten to meet higher officials that visited the fort, and she wanted to greet the Governor in her well mannered way. She even continued to stand as Lancelot passed her by to plop down in a chair next to where Arthur's seat was. All assembeled at the table, Decima, the Optio and others, seemed to care little as to whether she was there, or not, but then their attitude toward her was typical of nobility.

She was a weaver, a loving new mother, and nothing more than that.

The only one who spoke was the Governor...

"No, Sir," Ione replied. "I only wished to greet you, and hope that your stay here at the fort is a good one." The weaver bowed again with deep respect to the Governor, then stood again, "That is all I wish, Sir."

It sounded stupid, but to Ione, it was a sincere greeting.

There was nothing she needed, nor wanted to beg for.

In the time since she had been at the fort, Ione had grown self sufficient with her business, and now she had a child to love. Through the hardships she had endured in the past, Ione had asked of nothing from anyone except for respect and friendship. The Optio and Decima could ignore her all they wanted, but she did not need them to recognize her, only to be civil.

Even if they laughed at her for even thinking that the Governor would want to speak to her, being a commoner and all, at least she had given her sincere wishes to the Governor before she, Sister Margaret, and baby Aithne left to retire for the night.


Brigit with a tad of Adian

Adian, still flanked by the two guards, watched as Lancelot, Tristan and Galahad entered the tavern, and made their way to the buffet of food and drink. It was the young upstart who had promised to walk Brigit back to the convent, and now he was here with his buddies to join in the fun while Brigit sat with one of the nuns. He felt like getting up and showing this Galahad a thing or two... about keeping to his word and making sure that Brigit got to the convent.

What was she doing here with a nun then?

Adian did not want to start trouble any more tonight, but he made a note to watch Galahad from now on when he was with Brigit.

DAMN HIM! If anything happened to her!

A few tables over, Brigit felt for the clasp of her cloak when she heard a voice that made her smile sweetly...

Sister Agetha pulled a bit at Brigit's arm not wanting the girl to speak to a Sarmatian, but Brigit brushed the hand, "Sister Agetha, wait... please."
Sister Agetha frowned wondering why a sweet young woman like Brigit would want to talk to a knight, "Very well."
Brigit reached out her hand to try to locate Galahad, "I am so glad to hear your voice again, Galahad."
A shy smile passed over her face...