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Vale of the White Horse
Topic Started: 5 Jan 2010, 13:03 (19,297 Views)
Sonja
Red & dangerous! Rawr!
'It's not your fault. If anything, nature's to blame.' A crooked smile appeared on his face. 'Don't worry about it,' he said then, not really sure whether he was saying it for her benefit or his own.
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Marieke
Lief! <3 (and powerful!)
Breathing was probably the best thing to do right now. She looked up from her arms, though she didn’t turn. ‘You don’t think I was too selfish?’
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Sonja
Red & dangerous! Rawr!
'No,' he said in all honesty, shifting around until he was lying on his back, staring at the ceiling. Inexperienced, that was what she was.
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Marieke
Lief! <3 (and powerful!)
She wanted to roll over, wrap herself in the warmth of his body to fall asleep there. But despite his reply, that would probably be selfish. Perhaps she ought to be the one who slept on the floor, away from him tonight. It was not right of her to torture him, even though neither of them seemed to be able to help it. But she wanted him to comfort her. In the last weeks, he had been all that had stood between her and despair. After the events of the hill, when she had told him to stay awake for her, she thought he had stroked her hair all night long. It had been Rufus who’d told her that love defies danger, but she couldn’t imagine him taking her in his arms despite the passion that surged through him, and do nothing. It took strength to do that.
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Sonja
Red & dangerous! Rawr!
In the darkness, he searched for Essylt's hand and squeezed it lightly. Then he grabbed her blanket and pulled it over her. 'You must be tired,' he said quietly. He wanted her to sleep in his arms tonight, but he couldn't blame her if she did not want to.
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Marieke
Lief! <3 (and powerful!)
‘I guess.’ She was, but still her body felt tense. It was hard to relax at all. Beneath the blanket she turned, though it was too dark to see more of his face than a dark blot. He probably didn’t mind being close to her again, else he would have gone to the other side of the room. Resting her brow lightly against his collarbone, she said: ‘You probably deserve someone who’s nicer to you.’
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Sonja
Red & dangerous! Rawr!
Morcant put his arm around her, relieved that she didn't seem to be put off by what he just had to do. 'No, I'm perfectly content with this,' he said while his fingers drew circles over her back.
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Marieke
Lief! <3 (and powerful!)
When she had been a child, her mother had stroked her over her back like that when she couldn’t sleep. This was different, but the feeling was still nice. Nicer, perhaps; it felt like sweet whispers to a baby in a cradle. He probably was lying a little; if he was perfectly content it was because he had fled out of the door to dispose of what was haunting him.
It was hard to tell the difference between waking and sleeping. After a while, the tender caresses changed and he lay her down on her back. They were in a field. It wasn’t autumn, it was spring and she smelled the buttercups and wild clover.
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Sonja
Red & dangerous! Rawr!
The heat was a pleasant warmth now, instead of a burning fire. Quite possibly, it was the best feeling he'd had in a very long time, perhaps in all his life. The only thing that came close, was the memory of his mother telling him stories before he went to bed. Morcant draped his arm over Essylt like he'd done before and put his head against hers. If he could, he would have stayed up all night to savour each moment. As it was, he was too tired to fight the sleep that pulled at him. He gave a yawn and closed his eyes, drifting off with Essylt's scent in his nostrils.
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Marieke
Lief! <3 (and powerful!)
It was two days later that they untied him. His body was beyond hurt, his skin raw from the cruel wind and rain, the ropes that had held him. It was hard to stand straight; his body collapsed like a beast that moves on all fours. They laughed at him. He bit his jaws together.
Gwenllian hadn’t been near him at all. He had not even heard her scream. That was good. He didn’t think he would hold on to his sanity if she had, and he had heard it.
‘Hey Scarface, get up. You’re our possession now, so better make yourself useful.’ Someone kicked him in the side.
He struggled to rise, swaying on his feet. His body was strong. Sure, two days bound to a pole with no food and hardly any water had weakened him, but he could take it.
‘Watch his hands. The guy’s a killer.’
He snorted. He wouldn’t strangle a Roman in this camp if they poked him with sticks.
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Sonja
Red & dangerous! Rawr!
Gwenllian tried to keep her lips pressed together at all times. No matter how hungrily Sulpicius' lips were attacking hers; if she could avoid his tongue in her mouth, she would. On some occassions he'd hurt her, causing her to give an involuntary yelp which he abused in his cold, cruel way. Never enough to give her a bruise, or wound her, though. That was, if not a good thing, at least not too bad. After Higueid, she did not think she'd survive more beatings.
The worst part of it all was that she was hardly allowed out of his tent, only sometimes to relieve herself and once to freshen up. She'd nearly scrubbed her skin raw on that occasion, but she had still felt as befouled afterwards. On her way back she had tried to catch a glimpse of Rhywallon, but the soldiers who had escorted her formed an impenetrable barrier around her and she had been back in the Roman's tent in a heartbeat.
At least she'd been provided with clothes, though she really did not want to know to whom the clothing in the style of her own people had belonged to and what had happened to her that she didn't need the clothes anymore. Sitting in a corner of the tent, she listened to the sounds outside and wondered where Rhywallon was and what they were doing to him.
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Marieke
Lief! <3 (and powerful!)
They brought him to a tent. Not the one where he had been before and where, he assumed, Gwenllian had been left to the mercy of Spurius Sulpicius. This place was smaller, though there was still room for a desk. The Roman sat on it, casually leaning with his elbows on the top. Rhywallon was relieved to know that he wasn’t abusing his Gwenllian then.
‘Did it give you time to think?’ the man asked without further greetings.
‘I thought a lot,’ Rhywallon said. He’d been thinking about Gwenllian. The way her hair bopped in the breeze. How she could look at him with eyes that made him feel like the blemishes on his face were a sign of all the good things in the world.
‘Good. I have an assignment for you.’
Rhywallon waited.
‘You can drop your submissive attitude. When I have a job to be done, I expect a professional, not an angsting prisoner.’
He pulled his shoulders back. ‘I tend to hear people out before I judge the weight of the assignment.’
To his surprise, the Roman smiled coolly. ‘Very well. You know Dobunni territory by now, I assume?’
He nodded.
‘There’s a certain chieftain who I thought would make a fine ally. Not too much bloodlust himself, but he spared us his men-at-arms. It’s been a while since he was so cooperative, I regret. Your mission would be to go there and deliver my personal warning.’
‘I see.’ He had never wanted to turn against his own people. It would go against the rules of the brotherhood, to which he still felt loosely affiliated. ‘Which chieftain is this?’
‘His name is Madog of Two Lakes. He’s been reluctant to oblige us ever since his young daughter disappeared into the night. He believes that Roman soldiers are responsible. He even expressed the suspicion that it included a powerful ally of ours. They say she probably eloped. That’s the message he received from a Roman source. I couldn’t care less, but I won’t have his private problems stand in the way of a smooth campaign.’
Rhywallon stood motionless for a while, then rubbed his sore wrists. Two Lakes? Wasn’t that where Morcant had been stationed a while ago? He had even kidnapped the chieftain’s daughter – it would explain the disappearance. As far as he had guessed, the girl was in the settlement of Caer March. ‘What kind of warning had you in mind?’
‘Ah.’ The Roman carelessly brushed away some sheets on his desk. ‘Make it thorough. Just remember it is no punishment. Yet.’
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Sonja
Red & dangerous! Rawr!
When she got numb from sitting still in the same position, Gwenllian got up to stretch her legs. She wanted to walk around, but somehow it did not feel safe to do so. If the Roman entered his tent now, she'd be as far away from him as possible. Should he enter when she was just a pace away from the tent flap, she might shy away like a hunted deer, and she didn't want to grant him the satisfaction of knowing how much she was afraid of him. So she sat down on the small stool again, leaning her head against the sturdy fabric and silently praying for some sort of deliverance.
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Marieke
Lief! <3 (and powerful!)

‘I have one request.’
The man raised his eyebrows so high that they nearly disappeared into his grey hair. ‘I don’t do requests.’
‘I want to see Gwenllian before I leave.’
‘Look at you,’ the Roman scoffed. ‘You really have nothing to bargain with, boy.’
‘I know.’ He forced his face to remain quite still. ‘I still want to see her.’
He laughed. ‘And see how much I’ve abused her? Very well, Scarface. Perhaps it’ll serve as a lesson why not to thwart me while you’re on your way.’
These words made his heart feel cold, like a hand of ice had closed around it. Would she be damaged a lot? She must be so terrified – barely escaped from that scum of a husband and now – because of him – forced to endure it all over again.
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Sonja
Red & dangerous! Rawr!
Maybe she'd sleep for a bit, though that was yet another thing that did not feel quite so safe in this tent. Gwenllian hadn't seen a mirror up close for a long time, but she knew she must look less than pretty, with dark circles underneath her eyes. The Roman had told her to groom herself well, an order she'd have loved to disobey. But after neglecting to brush her hair the first morning and the abuse that had followed, she made very sure there was not a single knot in her curls ever since. Oh, she wanted to see Rhywallon so badly it hurt. If only a glimpse, just to know if he was still alive or not. In the first case, she'd have a reason to go on. In the latter, she would know it was all right to give up.
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Marieke
Lief! <3 (and powerful!)
The man escorted him back to the tent without much worry. Rhywallon assumed that he was counting on his loyalty for Gwenllian to keep his claws in.
He considered the possibility to knock him on the head and flee, somehow managing to grab Gwenllian on the way. It would need agility and a lot of good luck, but if he was desperate enough…He forgot all about it when the Roman pushed the tent flap aside. ‘A visitor, my dear,’ he heard him say before he stepped inside himself.
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Sonja
Red & dangerous! Rawr!
First, she couldn't believe her eyes. Then she thought that the gods may not have abandoned them completely. Wide-eyed, she stared at Rhywallon. She wanted to run towards him, despite the fact that it would bring her too close to the Roman for comfort. His arms could protect her against all the vile wickedness that emanated from their tormentor. But she did not dare to, afraid that it would somehow trigger the man's anger. She did not know how Rhywallon had gotten permission to see her, or what it meant. It wrenched at her heart to see how forlorn he looked. Had they even provided him with a decent blanket?
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Marieke
Lief! <3 (and powerful!)
She looked worse than he had imagined. Though there weren’t so much bruises as he’d feared, her face seemed like that of a lost, wildered child. He must have realized that she was strong enough to deal with the physical pain…oh, but how could he expect her to manage her dignity? It had already been torn to threads by her dead husband. Rhywallon edged past the Roman, who made no attempt to stop him. He carefully drew his arms around the girl, not wanting to touch her too hard, in case she was somehow hurt where he couldn’t see. His clothes were still humid from the rain; he expected he smelled like it, too.
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Sonja
Red & dangerous! Rawr!
Shivering, she pressed herself against him. His clothes were damp. They must have left him outside in the rain, with nothing to protect him. The thought was enough to bring tears to her eyes and she hid her face in his tunic. His familiar scent, though washed out by the rain, enveloped her like a protective bubble that couldn't be pierced by the Roman's scorning gaze. 'Rhywallon,' she whispered, willing the world to disappear until there was nothing left but the two of them.
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Marieke
Lief! <3 (and powerful!)
She was shaking like an aspen leaf. He knelt down with her, squatting so he could see see her face and hold her at the same time. ‘Shh, love. It’s alright.’ It was the first time he’d ever called her that. And of course it wasn’t alright – nothing in this was even remotely right. Her tears stirred his own, but he held them back with a struggle. If he was going to lose his composure, on whom could she lean through this darkness? He kissed her eyelids, one by one.
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Sonja
Red & dangerous! Rawr!
Love. Yes, she loved him. And if he loved her back, it would be all right. Love courses through impossible ridgeways, even the Roman had said it. After Rhywallon had pressed his lips to her eyes, she kept them closed for a few more moments. She felt as though she was a child again, thinking that if she couldn't see that which frightened her, she'd be safe from it. But because she did not want to miss too much of what little time she had of gazing at his face, she looked up again. Forgoing an attempt to smile, she lifted her face and gave him a very soft kiss on the lips, light as a fallen leaf touching the ground in early autumn.
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Marieke
Lief! <3 (and powerful!)
‘Gwenllian,’ he said after the silence and the tingling feeling of her kiss against his mouth. ‘You will be strong. I have every faith in you. I must leave for a little while, but I will come back for you. Do you trust me?’
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Sonja
Red & dangerous! Rawr!
Despite the feeling that the ground had opened underneath her, she nodded. 'Yes,' she said. Her knees felt faint as all sorts of worst-case scenario's appeared before her mind's eye. She tried to ignore them. 'Where - where are you going?'
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Marieke
Lief! <3 (and powerful!)
‘I think that’s quite enough,’ Spurius Sulpicius smiled, as he moved closer to them. Rhywallon closed his eyes before he withdrew his arms from her. ‘Pray for me.’
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Sonja
Red & dangerous! Rawr!
Gwenllian wondered if this was just another method of torture the man had thought up: granting them a few fleeting moments together before ripping them apart again. Well, if it was, she wouldn't give him any satisfaction. She got up and poked her chin into the air after gathering the shards of her pride. 'I will,' she assured Rhywallon. Every waking moment of the day.
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Marieke
Lief! <3 (and powerful!)
‘Good girl.’ He managed to bring up a faint smile. ‘I’ll be back before you know it.’
‘Whether you’ll get to see him when he does remains the question,’ the Roman put in dryly, but Rhywallon paid it no heed. He would find a way. There was no doubt at all that he would.
Outside the tent, he said: 'I will need to prepare myself.'
'You'll get a guard. I don't think you'll harm him, will you?'
'Oh no,' Rhywallon said softly. 'Why would I?'
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Sonja
Red & dangerous! Rawr!
Even after the tent flap had swallowed Rhywallon and Sulpicius, Gwenllian remained standing and did not look away from where Rhywallon had been seconds ago. She could still feel his touch; it spread through her limbs, warming her from the inside like no fire could. It would probably be gone soon, though. Fear would get the upper hand again once the Roman stepped inside. She sat down, folding her hands and pressing them against her abdomen. She would start praying now, and not stop until Rhywallon's return. Even when that horrible man would come to press her face in the pillows in an attempt to break her spirit, she'd still be praying. For, so she reasoned, if she constantly asked attention from the gods, they would have to listen to her at one point.
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Marieke
Lief! <3 (and powerful!)
Shadow Well brought a sense of bittersweet familiarity. Her horse’s hoofs clattered on the stones of the courtyard where she had played as a child. The last time she had seen the workshops pressed against the walls of the fort had been when she rode out to be married to a chieftain she had never met. When a few boys from the stables took her reigns and she dismounted, Briallen noticed how she felt awkwardly like a stranger. It had only been a few months and yet it could have been years. She glanced at Braegne. Her maid looked weary, but she couldn’t tell if she was feeling quite the same.
‘Dear Briallen!’ Caradog, her oldest cousin, embraced her briefly. ‘You came so quickly. I’m so sorry that we cannot receive you on a happier occasion.’
‘I’m too late, aren’t I?’ she asked, still breathless from the last hours of riding. As soon as she had seen the caer in the distance, she had insisted on a racing pace.
‘Yes.’ Her cousin’s face fell. ‘It all went so quickly. She struggled for a few days, trying to wait for you.’ He shook his head. ‘This must be hard on you, Briallen…So far from home and then not being able to reach her in time.’
She passed a dusty hand over her face. No doubt she looked worn. ‘It’s what I had expected, Caradog,’ she sighed. ‘When I rode to Caer March, I knew there was a good chance that I would never see her again.’
‘Well.’ He walked her inside, one hand on her arm, looking uncomfortable. ‘I’ve never believed that it was the best time to have you marry. I see your husband didn’t accompany you.’
‘Ah, you must have all heard that Tudwrig suffers from an illness,’ she said wearily, casting glances around. Everything was still the same; the corridors, the well-lit hall. It was all so much larger than Caer March. There, Tudwrig had to decide on every guest, weighing the advantages of their stay against the threat he formed himself. Shadow Well took in guests and travellers daily, as a matter of course. ‘He really wanted to come with me, but we hadn’t time to prepare a suitable way of travel for him.’
They settled in a part of the hall that was reserved for the privacy of the family. ‘Are you happy, though?’ her cousin asked, looking at her inquisitively. Briallen remembered playing with him when they were young; Caradog was only a few years her senior. Together, they had made huts and ran after each other in a game of tag until her mother called her in. She knew he wouldn’t accept anything less but her happiness, but it was hard to call her life in Caer March a fulfilling one. ‘It is…different,’ she therefore answered carefully. ‘There are very few people compared to home, and those who do live there are of the solid, sturdy kind. But Tudwrig is a good man. He really does not deserve the ailment he suffers. In his few good moments, he makes great efforts to be a fine husband.’
‘And is he?’
She felt her face flush lightly. They had not yet slept together, despite his last sudden burst of passion. She still did not understand what had happened there, nor why it had suddenly stopped. ‘I do love him, Caradog. In that, we have been very fortunate. So, I take it Shadow Well is yours now, is it not?’
With her uncle still lord of Salt Lake’s Reach and because she did not have any brothers, the right of inheritance befell her oldest cousin. He would be mighty lord one day, when he also took over his father’s chieftaincy.
‘Indeed. I am considering moving here with Angharad and Bleiddcu. I think she’ll love the view here; she’s always been fonder of the hills than the shore. As for Bleiddcu, I’d be relieved if he learns that he can’t boss around every child in the household.’
‘I see.’ Though she loved her cousin and his family, Briallen wondered why his words didn’t hurt more. Shadow Well had been her own home for so long; it sounded weird that someone could just move in there with both her parents and herself gone. ‘You must visit us at Caer March someday. Bleiddcu won’t have the chance to boss those few children around – what I’ve seen of them, all are quite able to stand their ground.’
He smiled, taking her hand in his. ‘Of course we will, cousin. You must have felt lonely. I’m sorry we weren’t even there to see you wed. I’m sure you looked beautiful.’

She knew she couldn’t stay long, or winter would cut off her way back to the Vale of the White Horse. Yet she found herself unwilling to prepare for a swift return, now that she was under the roof of her parents’ home again. She missed them. With every corner that she turned, she remembered the times when they had still walked these halls, talked and laughed and dined together. The walls held those memories as if they were ghosts. Sometimes she nearly believed that if she held out her hand, she could step back through time.
She visited her mother’s empty room. Her cousin had clearly ordered not to touch anything here, because everything was still the same. Only the bed was empty, the sheets carefully smoothened. Briallen sat long on a stool, exactly where she had been for so long, holding her mother’s hand and telling stories. She stared at the empty spot. The hurt was incredible. She couldn’t even cry, but felt like there was a big hollow inside of her, swallowing everything else; dark like the burrow of Wayland’s Smithy. Perhaps it was better to leave for home soon, then. Home. It confused her. Home was Shadow Well, the place where she knew every corner. Home was also Caer March, with all its looming danger and problems that it could barely weather with the ancient, dark walls. Count the cycle of the moon each night, she had told Tudwrig. No doubt he was doing that, locked up in his room or stalking the corridors alone. She wished she could reach out her arms to him, past the distance that separated them. Every night, back in her old room, she lit a candle and stared at the wavering flame. Briallen hoped that, somehow, it would light her beloved’s dreams through his lonely nights and soothe the heart of the wild beast he had to become.
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Sonja
Red & dangerous! Rawr!
Rufus walked away from the caer, down into the settlement. He'd only had five minutes to talk with Tudwrig, but he did manage to extract the promise of work for Morcant from the man. First he had thought of letting Essylt bring her protector the news since he did not think the man would accept work from him. Then he'd figured that Morcant really did not have any choice but take the job, and that Rufus might as well tell him himself. It would certainly be a great opportunity to rub some things in the man's face. And because he'd also tell him to report to the caer immediately, he could have a little talk with Essylt when Morcant had gone.
Ah, scheming. Rufus loved it. He had to keep himself from rubbing his hands together, but there was a self-satisfied smile on his face as he walked down the streets of the Dobunni quarter. Here and there he stopped for a little chat with the inhabitants, making sure they fully understood that he was there for them, even though he was of another people, and that they could always come to him with their problems. It was slow going, but he was pretty sure that by the time Briallen returned, he'd have wheedled every bit of influence, political or otherwise, from her and her husband. In an alltogether good mood, he turned at the crossing that led to Essylt's house.
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Marieke
Lief! <3 (and powerful!)
It was particularly unpleasant weather outside. Essylt wore her cloak, even though the fire in the hearth was blazing strong. She sat on one of the stools, her fingers working on the fleece on her spindle, splaying out the fibres at the end of the yarn, twisting and rolling the new wool together. It was not a quick work, but it relaxed her. There was already a cone of spun yarn wound on the spindle below.
The smell of bread on the stone above the fire made her more content than she had been in days. It wasn’t home. She had to work hard to keep the house clean and comfortable; there was no kitchen to prepare her meals or to prepare her clothes and fabrics. But she was managing, and it felt good to be working through most of the day. She worried about Morcant, who was still gone for long times sometime. At least she now knew that he was with the brotherhood. The fact that Cuhelyn was around to keep an eye on him soothed her too. When he came home, she wanted to make sure that it was a pleasant place, so grinded grain, baking flat loafs of bread and tended to the fire so it would never be too cold inside the small round house.
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