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Vale of the White Horse
Topic Started: 5 Jan 2010, 13:03 (19,356 Views)
Marieke
Lief! <3 (and powerful!)
She rested her head on her knees, then against the wall, then tried shifting into a laying position, knees high up to her chest. She felt like a little mouse, curled up in a dark hole. She nearly wished that she was a mouse, with fur and earth to keep her warm instead of this unfriendly hollow gap in the ground. She drowsed off, not quite awake or quite asleep. Images of faces kept dancing before her closed eyes. Cuhelyn, a look of hurt in his eyes, his mouth set in a downward line as he flung his bag over his shoulder. Keep him out of trouble he said. He walked away, but there was Morcant who threw a net over her, as if he had caught her in a bird snare. As he pulled her to himself until their bodies almost touched, they were underwater. And there was the girl again; the girl with the brown locks who looked so sorrowful. She walked up the hill and kissed the stone. A white horse, a formidable white horse erupted from the earth. It cantered down, changing into a beast – was it a wolf or a bear? She could not tell. The beast bared his teeth, such horrible fangs, and then she was herself again and floating and spreading her arms. She heard a rush of feathers and wings. She flew like an owl. And everything went away. She saw the girl crumble and fall as the stone collapsed and the horse faded and the beast clawed to his chest and a legion of Roman soldiers flooded over the hill like a wave over the beach, and Morcant drowned in silence.
Essylt woke up. The colours had all changed. So she had slept longer than she had ever anticipated. Her chest felt heavy. She couldn’t move at all. She wanted to scream, to cry.
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Sonja
Red & dangerous! Rawr!
Somewhere in the middle of the night, Essylt's breathing changed: instead of the regular rhythm of one in a deep sleep, it became laboured and heavy. Worried, he walked up to her and saw that she was awake. There was such a wave of fear coming from her that he couldn't do anything but kneel next to her and gather her in his arms. When he did, it was like the lightning-like shock you sometimes get when touching another person. The cave suddenly disappeared, and Morcant found himself not holding on to Essylt, but laying spread-eagled in a quick-flowing stream. He heard a distant roar as if that of a waterfall, and tried to resist the tide that threatened to pull him in that direction. But the more he fought it, the harder it pulled. He saw Romans spilling down out of the forests and over the hills, brandishing their swords and spears. Cursing, he tried to swim to shore to make a stand, because he knew he must. His energy waned quickly, and despair washed over him like the waves of the water as he sunk underneath them.
With a gasp, he realized he was back in the cave, sweating as if he'd really taken a plunge into water.
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Marieke
Lief! <3 (and powerful!)
‘No…’
She shook like a knife thrown into a tree. And it was just like a knife that she felt the pain that split her up from the inside, as if she was holding on to something and now that had been cut from her by someone else. It was only a brief moment. She found she was awake. She could move again. Someone was holding her. It was less cold. The visions less real, more like a normal dream. Breathing hard, she tried to understand what was happening. There was a smell she vaguely knew. Two arms around her. ‘It’s alright,’ she breathed. ‘They were just dreams.’
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Sonja
Red & dangerous! Rawr!
'Shh, take it easy,' he said into her hair, rocking her gently. Somehow he knew this had not been just a dream. It scared him, like nothing had ever scared him before; it screwed his throat shut and sent cold shivers down his spine. This went way beyond curing a burn of freezing a leaf. This was truly uncanny.
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Marieke
Lief! <3 (and powerful!)
'You...' she gasped. The blanket was somehow strangling her like seaweed. 'You were...what did you do-'
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Sonja
Red & dangerous! Rawr!
'I did what?' he asked, brushing some hair from her face. She was cold and clammy to the touch, as if she'd been in the water too.
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Marieke
Lief! <3 (and powerful!)
'...I don't know...' She didn't understand any of this. Her heart slowly fell back into its normal rythm. She took one, two deep breaths. His arms holding her, his hand touching her face; she hardly seemed to feel it at all, and yet she noticed him doing it. 'You drowned.'
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Sonja
Red & dangerous! Rawr!
'It was just a dream,' he said, ignoring the cold chill that ran through him. 'Once you tell them, they lose all grip on reality.'
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Marieke
Lief! <3 (and powerful!)
Just a dream. That's what she had said. Essylt shook her head. Her hair brushed against his chin, she could feel it. 'But it wasn't. The girl with brown hair, and the stone...I've seen them before. And there were Romans...And a horse and a terrible creature and then - I was flying. And I couldn't do anything when you drowned.'
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Sonja
Red & dangerous! Rawr!
'I won't drown that easily,' he said gently in an attempt to comfort her. Though shouldn't she be happy if he drowned? 'Tell me about the rest. It's good to talk about it.'
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Marieke
Lief! <3 (and powerful!)
Perhaps it wasn't wise to tell him. Essylt stayed quiet for a while. It was this man who seen what she could do, and despite who he was she had trusted it to him. Then he had betrayed her, taken advantage of something that scared her into numbness. 'There was nothing more,' she said. 'They were fragments of some sorts. The girl and the stone. The horse and the monster. The Romans and you. And me.'
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Sonja
Red & dangerous! Rawr!
'Are the dreams the same as what you see in the water?' he pressed, wanting to know. If he was destined to drown - well, he'd best take precautions.
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Marieke
Lief! <3 (and powerful!)
'Parts of it,' she admitted. 'I didn't see you in the water before...I don't know if it was real. Giant monsters aren't real anymore, are they?' She blinked against the darkness in the cave. 'Maybe I was just frightened...'
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Sonja
Red & dangerous! Rawr!
'No. No, they're not,' he said, even though he thought to himself that owls none could see except her sort of qualified as a monstrosity in his book. 'Fear does strange things to people.' And that was the truth. Morcant lessened his grip on her.
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Marieke
Lief! <3 (and powerful!)
She didn't point out that her fear, such as it was, mainly originated from his choices. As his arms losened around her body, becoming less like captivating bars, she let the blanket slip from her shoulders. A bit from the owl had remained with though she was fully awake now. Though it was cold, she needed to feel air against her arms, not like she was bound and wound in. 'It felt like...I was so weak to do something at all,' she heard herself tell him. 'But at the same time, it was like I could have...killed a hundred men with one beat of my wings. I mean, my arms.'
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Sonja
Red & dangerous! Rawr!
He looked at her with a neutral expression on his face. So he'd been right. She would be able to do what he wanted her to do. All he needed to do was find a way to make her feel weak and scared. It was cruel he knew, but what choice did he really have? 'You're not a killer,' he told her quietly. But he had to make her one...
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Marieke
Lief! <3 (and powerful!)
'No....No,' she repeated, more ardently. 'I'm not. I'll never be one.'
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Sonja
Red & dangerous! Rawr!
He fell silent for a long time. 'You're cold.' It wasn't really a question. 'Do you want me to make a fire to warm you up?' She couldn't fall ill, he realized. That would be catastrophic.
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Marieke
Lief! <3 (and powerful!)
She shrugged. 'There'd be too much smoke.'
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Sonja
Red & dangerous! Rawr!
'I'll cut the bushes down at the exit and make the fire there,' he said. 'The smoke won't enter the cave.'
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Marieke
Lief! <3 (and powerful!)
'It's the middle of the night,' she said. 'You don't have to go at lenghths for my convenience, even if it's out of guilt.'
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Sonja
Red & dangerous! Rawr!
Morcant narrowed his eyes, pressing his lips together. She hadn't raised her voice at him, didn't even speak harshly, but her words hit him. 'I don't care, I am not sleeping anyway.'
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Marieke
Lief! <3 (and powerful!)
'Alright.' What did she care if he wanted to make a fire or not? It was almost like he was seeking her approval. And still holding on to her. It was a lot warmer this way. She wondered if he even remembered that he had her so close. Something had changed the moment he had heard of her dream. The gates in his face, he had shut them again.
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Sonja
Red & dangerous! Rawr!
He rather reluctantly let go of her, walking slowly to the cavemouth. With the heavy dagger he carried around, he began to saw through branches. A chill wind swept through the cave as he worked. It didn't take him long to get rid of the growth and build a small fire. It was just enough to ward off the nightly chill.
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Marieke
Lief! <3 (and powerful!)
She crouched closer to the flames- had to, if she wanted to feel them at all. She wondered if she could sleep again, and if she even wanted to.
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Sonja
Red & dangerous! Rawr!
He sat as far away from the flames as possible, so that she could have the most benefit of them. As he sat there watching her, he wondered if she'd go to sleep again. She still looked shaken because of her dreams, and he had the feeling she wasn't telling him all she knew. Perhaps, if she dreamed again, and he'd touch her again... if it had been their bodies touching that sparked the vision. Morcant didn't know. He had absolutely no experience with this. Gods, what had he started?
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Sonja
Red & dangerous! Rawr!
His tent was a large affair of sturdy cotton and expensive silk, big enough to hold the same amount of furniture as a plebeian house. In theory, because Rufus loathed everything that made him too dependent on something or someone. He had only brought as much as he could have carried himself in a cart; the rest he had claimed from the things Marcus Iulius had gathered since he was stationed here. For, so Rufus had reasonably argued, a man who lived most of the time in a caer had no need for a desk, or a proper bed, or an extra blanket to ward off the autumn's chill. He didn't really need all these things himself, but Iulius had gotten too cocky lately and needed to be put in place.
Now he was sitting behind the desk, scribbling a letter to Rome. He looked up at a scratching on his tent. 'Enter.'
Marcus Iulius stepped inside, his face contorted into an expression that reminded Rufus of someone who had just stepped into a pile of horse's dung. Well, the feeling was entirely mutual. 'My lord,' the man said with a stiff bow.
'This had better be important, Iulius,' Rufus said, bending over his writing again.
'Supplies of grain have stopped coming from the caer. Now, I suggest we -'
Rufus held up a hand to silence him. 'That's already taken care of. Supplies will come from a near settlement. Until then you'll have to do with a little less. I'm sure a day or two of only half rations has never killed a man.'
'On whose authority has that been decided?' Marcus Iulius demanded to know, clearly forgetting himself. Rufus licked his lips and cocked his head at the man.
'On mine, of course, in close deliberation with the lady of the household.' He smiled a cold smile. 'Apparently you have told her that she would,... ah, like my company. I'd appreciate it if you'd restrain yourself from remarks like that in the future.'
The man sneered. 'If my lord wishes it so.'
'That he does. Oh, that reminds me. I spoke with a man who claims to know you somewhat. Goes by the name of Rhy-something. Terrifying sort of fellow, half of his face has burnt to a crisp. Mentioned his sisters, too. Don't suppose there's a chance you actually know the man, do you?' he said with a vague wave of his hand, apparently absorbed in his writing again.
'Never heard of him,' the officer said slowly. 'Good day, my lord.'
'Cheers, old boy,' Rufus said with a shrewd look on the man's back as he retreated from the tent.
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Marieke
Lief! <3 (and powerful!)
He would go now. He had permission. His nostrils had widened, picking up the smell of prey. Rhywallon was a wolf, one with bared teeth. His tongue craved the copper taste of blood. Dusk had just fallen, withdrawing from the settlement all warmth of the sun. The place seemed a ghost town, with only stark lonely houses and inhabitants that did not belong to his own people. He didn’t know if Romans believed in ghosts. He wished for the spirit of Marcus Iulius to dwell forever in the darkest places of the house of Arawn, preferably chased on endlessly by the moon-white blood hounds.
But he had to be found first, that gluttonous Roman pig. He was not in the caer. He was not inside the half-finished buildings. He would not be in the largest tent, where Marcus Lentulus had settled himself. Rhywallon’s eyes slithered over that tent. Give me a reason, he thought, just one would be enough for him to try his blades on this one as well. He was nearly tempted just for the way he had looked at Gwenllian.
Eventually he stalked the streets in complete darkness and it was there he met the walking ghost. Had he been drinking? There was a smell in the air between himself and the hawk-nosed man. A dagger left the sheath on his side with such a silent glide that he only heard an iron whisper in the night air, easily mistaken for the wind.
‘Marcus,’ he said, not yet leaving the shroud of darkness to step into full sight. ‘Iulius.’
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Sonja
Red & dangerous! Rawr!
Rhywallon had sneaked out of the caer as if he was planning never to return again. If she hadn't been unable to sleep and decided to get a cup of herbal tea in the kitchen's, she wouldn't even have seen him. Now Gwenllian quietly slipped after him, hardly daring to breathe out of fear that he might hear. He was making for the Roman settlement. It made her wonder if this had something to do with this business he'd mentioned. These...dark matters. An involuntary shiver ran down her spine and she made sure not to be too close to Rhywallon. She hardly dared watch his back; what if he'd feel it? The dark shadows in the settlement made it hard to follow him, as he blended almost perfectly into the darkness. Gwenllian carefully stepped through the streets, keeping to the shadows herself.


He heard his name whispered: it was like the slow screeching a sword made when being pulled from its scabbard. Marcus Iulius turned around, looking for the source of the sound. 'Who's there?' he asked sternly when he couldn't discern anything that could've been responsible. If this was another one of Lentulus' antics, he'd do the man a serious injury - tribune or no tribune.
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Marieke
Lief! <3 (and powerful!)
‘No one but you,’ he replied. ‘And the darkness. Does it look familiar, Marcus Iulius? Do you recognize the darkness of your mind?’
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