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Vale of the White Horse
Topic Started: 5 Jan 2010, 13:03 (19,316 Views)
Sonja
Red & dangerous! Rawr!
Morcant wanted to gut the man like the animal he was. 'I know you'd rather not, but if he goes too far, please turn him into an icicle,' he said as he put his hands on her shoulders.
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Marieke
Lief! <3 (and powerful!)
‘Yes,’ she muttered, not too clear. ‘I suppose I should.’
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Sonja
Red & dangerous! Rawr!
It must be hard for her, he realized as he knelt down in front of her. 'We could also go somewhere else if you want,' he said. There was no real reason for them to stay here now that he could not kill Lentulus, and Essylt's safety went before everything.
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Marieke
Lief! <3 (and powerful!)
'It doesn't really matter,' Essylt answered, shaking her head wearily. 'I'm not even as shocked as you'd probably like me to be.'
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Sonja
Red & dangerous! Rawr!
Not that what he liked really mattered. 'I suppose now that the cat's out of the bag there's no need to cover your hair when we go to the market, then,' he said, trying to keep his voice light but failing rather miserably.
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Marieke
Lief! <3 (and powerful!)
'I don't care for the man,' she said. 'If he keeps his mouth shut, so can I.' She was more sorry for the look it brought on his face. 'He knows I'm not usually alone, Morcant. I told him I had a protector.'
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Sonja
Red & dangerous! Rawr!
Protector. Yes, that he was. He'd protect her from that Roman pig with his last breath if need be. 'Good. Well, so long as he does keep his mouth shut, there's no reason to fret about it, I suppose.'
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Marieke
Lief! <3 (and powerful!)
She nodded again, relieved that he took it well enough. 'You don't have to stay with me all the time. I was a little scared, but...I'm alright now.'
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Sonja
Red & dangerous! Rawr!
He wanted to say that she should tell him as soon as things were not all right, but he figured it'd be slightly redundant. He'd the same exact thing so many times before already. Morcant got to his feet again and drew up a smile. 'You're a brave girl,' he told her. There was no use in going up in flames over Lentulus's actions, but he found himself boiling on the inside anyway.
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Marieke
Lief! <3 (and powerful!)
‘No,’ she muttered. ‘Why do you think I was so obedient when you kidnapped me?’
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Sonja
Red & dangerous! Rawr!
'But you didn't crumple into a crying heap, either,' he said, looking down on her. 'There are different types of bravery and believe me when I say that you're brave. Cuhelyn thinks to, too.'
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Marieke
Lief! <3 (and powerful!)
‘Well, if he says so then it must be the truth.’
She thought about her request to Rufus. Her father might or might not believe it, but it would probably be the only real option left to him. Perhaps he’d reconsider her earlier disappearance too. Was that bravery? It felt rather cruel. ‘You did scare me,’ she tried, smiling dimly. ‘When you threw me to the ground like that. But I think I’ve quite forgiven you.’
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Sonja
Red & dangerous! Rawr!
'I'm glad you have,' he replied. His own guilt was getting lesser by the day, though he still felt the urge to protect Essylt against the world. He knew he couldn't do so forever, and hoped that one day he'd be able to disengage himself from it. Essylt wouldn't need him forever, and she had the right to her own life.
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Marieke
Lief! <3 (and powerful!)
The market square was a bustle. Essylt saw many Romans; ladies and servants – or perhaps slaves – and young children. She drew the cloak tight around her shoulders; she felt like a stranger in her own land. The free tenants of the settlement, those that were of her own people, stayed in the margins. Glancing up at Morcant’s face, she muttered: ‘It won’t stay this way. I’ve seen it happen at Two Lakes. Our own people will soon mix with them and reclaim the settlement.’ Though they might dress and walk and appraise the wares like their Roman invaders. She wouldn’t mention that now. Right this moment, Essylt had no interest in nationalism. She was glad that no one even knew her face – well, except for Marcus Lentulus. He wouldn’t be here now, and even if he was she doubted that he’d approach her. The owl circled above them as they moved from stand to stand. Essylt ignored the jewelry, though they were fine indeed: twisted fibulae, brooches and necklaces, Roman and Dobunni alike. ‘We will need some vegetables sometime at least.’
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Sonja
Red & dangerous! Rawr!
Morcant only gave a grunt, not entirely trusting his voice. He didn't have anything against Roman women and children; he only wished that they'd stay in their own land. Though from their point of view, this probably was their land now. He found that he didn't want to think about it too much. Instead, he focussed on the provisions they needed. Whenever he'd had the chance when he'd gone out for his excercises, he'd lifted a purse here and there. Essylt needn't know about that of course, as long as they had enough money to make ends meet. 'Vegetables, then. It's still early, so we'll have plenty to choose from,' he said.
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Marieke
Lief! <3 (and powerful!)
Someone pushed her forward, separating her from Morcant for a few steps. A child pushed past her legs as she turned around. Something caught her eye; an empty space, not far ahead of them, where people’s feet seemed to pass around like it was somehow holy. But no one even looked back. The owl brushed her cheek with his feathers, flying past her. She glanced at it, then back, and saw a person. Despite the chill of the morning, he wore no cloak. He did wear a smile, a bright one. Essylt didn’t know what to do. The man looked like he was woven from a beam of moonlight. He reached out one hand. ‘What’s this?’ she murmured, blinking against the strange illumination that seemed to emanate from his whole being. He stepped back. As soon as his feet left the lonely spot, other’s tread upon it as if no one had been there at all. No, wait! she wanted to cry. But that would have been awkward. She turned, searching for Morcant.
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Sonja
Red & dangerous! Rawr!
He cursed and started pushing people aside. One'd think that Essylt wouldn't be hard to find, with her hair and pale skin, but he just couldn't see her anywhere. For a few agonizing moments, he thought someone working for that bastard Roman had taken her away, but then she suddenly appeared and he released his breath explosively. Morcant wanted to take a hold of her hand to prevent this sort of thing from happening, but he didn't want to attract attention and holding hands in the middle of the market would probably start a lot of gossip. 'You look like you've seen a ghost,' he said with a glance at her face.
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Marieke
Lief! <3 (and powerful!)
She blinked hard. The owl was gone, too. ‘Just a little confusion.’ She wanted to run through the crowd, pushing them aside if she had to, and find where the man and the creature had disappeared to. ‘Come on, I’ll get us some carrots, then we can go home.’ She carried a basket. It wasn’t the best quality but it would hold contents until they got back to their humble dwelling.
Home. Essylt focused on the market stand. Was it right to call the little hut that they had settled in that way?
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Sonja
Red & dangerous! Rawr!
Morcant didn't really care for carrots, but he wanted to get back as soon as possible so he nodded in agreement. He felt rather ill at ease with all these people around. 'Is there anything else we need?' he asked.
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Marieke
Lief! <3 (and powerful!)
‘Furniture. A bed.’ She thought about Rufus’ words. ‘Everything that allows me to make a normal household.’ Essylt smiled at him, but it was only half a joke. This was what they needed – without it, she felt like a homeless stray. It made her feel filthy.
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Sonja
Red & dangerous! Rawr!
'A table and an extra chair would be nice,' he agreed with her. 'I'll get us furniture. Or at least some wooden planks I can make into furniture myself.' He dug into his pocket for a few coins which he gave to the vending lady in exchange for the carrots. Morcant knew he couldn't go around pick-pocketing forever, but it'd be equally as difficult to find a job here.
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Marieke
Lief! <3 (and powerful!)
Perhaps it really would be easier to go to the caer and ask for sanctuary. She stored the carrots in the basket. It seamed a meager meal indeed. The scoffing look on the Roman woman that walked past her burned into her skin. Essylt blushed. She really had never considered poverty as a part of her life. Her body hurt daily from all the inconvienences. What if I’m simply not strong enough for this? Then Rufus’ offer would start to sound a lot more appealing, she wagered. ‘I’ll go back now. Perhaps you can see if there’s something I’ve missed. I don’t seem to have a talent for this.’ It truth, she just wanted to flee from everyone who could think of her as a poor man's sorry wife.
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Sonja
Red & dangerous! Rawr!
'You're sure?' Morcant asked. He'd thought she'd welcome getting out of the little house, but perhaps she was one of those people who couldn't stand to be in a crowd of people for too long. 'Well, be safe, then.'
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Marieke
Lief! <3 (and powerful!)
'Of course. I never got into trouble before I met you.' She smiled again, clinging the basket between her arms and gingerly sought her way through the people. She was slim enough to slip through most gaps. Once or twice an elbow poked her, and that hurt. But the market square wasn't so large; soon she found herself away from it, heading back to the house.
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Sonja
Red & dangerous! Rawr!
Morcant bought a new blanket for Essylt. He could do with his old one since he was used to living outside, but it was getting colder by the day and even if he could not get a bed, it would be a bit warmer than before. The market was getting busier by the minute, and often he had to push his way through a wall of bodies. Sometimes, when he saw a Roman toga amongst the crowd, his heart started beating faster. His hands itched to confront Lentulus. But it was never him. Morcant shook his head; he was letting himself get carried away. He needed to find furniture and a job, but both were sparse in this settlement. Perhaps he could appeal at the caer for work. Rhywallon might be able to put in a good word for him.
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Marieke
Lief! <3 (and powerful!)
The owl had not returned to her, which was odd since he’d been around ever since their settling in the Caer March village. Essylt glanced at the roof of the dwelling, made from straw, mud and twigs. He was not there. Perhaps the man had taken him away; the man who had seemed to walk on a beam on moonlight though it was the middle of the day. Her heart had beaten quicker all the way back to the house. Now she dropped the basket, remaining on her feet indecisively. It was hard to tell when Morcant would be back. When he did, he would not want to find the house empty. But just a quick peek outside couldn’t hurt, surely. She’d simply walk to the end of the narrow road, following the curve of the wall post.
She did so, draping the dark shawl over her head and shoulders. Redundant, perhaps, now that Marcus Lentulus had discovered that she was here. She still felt like a refugee, an exile. Well, she had exiled herself, as the Roman had so accurately pointed out. Essylt, following the bend of the settlement while wondering what she must do to secure his silence, suddenly stopped. Just ahead of her was a spot in the road, glowing like silvery light shone down on it. Like a lantern, spilling radiance. But the sun was hardly free from a shroud of fanciless grey clouds. Carefully she made her way to the place. There was something there, gently stirring in the breeze. A white feather, soft like it had only just been shed, with no traces of mud or dirt. Essylt picked it up, rolling the pen between her fingers. It could be coincidence. She walked on, trailing her way between Dobunni houses until she reached an open gate, leading right out into the hills. There was a guard, a Roman, but he was leaning against the poles with apparent indifference.
‘Did you see a bird?’ she inquired tentatively.
The man raised his thick brows at her. They almost disappeared beneath his Roman helmet. ‘Birds aplenty around these hills.’
‘What about an owl?’
He grinned at her with an indulgent sort of look. ‘Don’t think owls like to come out during daytime, and not in a settlement. Have you lost your pet owl, love?’
Essylt thought it was an odd notion to call her owl a pet, but nodded.
‘Is he tame?’
‘Ah…’ She was looking past him. There was a stone protruding from the hill; she could just see the top of it, looking dark against the grass. ‘Sort of. Not always.’
‘Well, go have a look out there. I wager you he’s flown into the forest. Don’t stay out too long though, and not after dark. This isn’t a populated area.’

The hill was wet from last night’s rain. She tugged up the hem of her skirt, but the long grasses found ways to deliver their swollen drops onto the fabric anyway. Not for a moment did she believe that she could whistle back the owl if it had decided to leave her. She wasn’t even sure how she felt about that if it proved to be true. Lonely, because he had somehow comforted and kept her company in those hours of doubt and anxiety? Or relieved, that with him her terrible powers might have vanished from her hands? She did not have to look far. Essylt approached the stone that she recognized as the one where a brown-haired girl would one day whisper a prayer to, or perhaps a command or a secret. The man made of moonlight stood just beside that stone, looking at her walking up with nothing but a grave face. The smile he’d worn earlier was not there. Essylt slowed her steps, but did not dare to halt completely, afraid he would vanish before her eyes. She had no doubt that this was one of them, the Fair Folk. She had heard terrifying stories about their kind; how their faces looked like a toad while their hands were made of thorny branches. Even the benign cavewoman in Morcant’s tale had sometimes changed people into rocks. But this one was very fair indeed. He had a stream of white hair – on any other man it would have appeared oddly aged for such a young face. Now it just reminded her of snow, the kind that no one has yet trodden on. His face was slim, almost narrow, but he had wide eyes, reminding her so much of the owl’s that it made her skin rise with goose-bumps. Just like two moonlit lakes. Clear, nearly colourless, but with a translucent quality. They were still fixed upon her own form. He looked, Essylt thought as she came to a halt at a safe distance from him, a lot like her owl taken on a human shape. The thought unnerved her for many reasons: the owl had seen her crying and begging, in her most disheveled states. Not to mention undressed.
And then he spoke. ‘Essylt,’ he said. ‘Will you not come nearer?’

But she wouldn’t. Why did this member of the Fair Folk, this fey, know her name? What would any of them want with her? ‘Who are you?’ she whispered, not sure if he could hear her from the distance she was keeping.
‘Udd Wyll,’ he said, a name that sounded like something whispered in evening light. Essylt drew up her shoulders, her breath stuck in her throat for a heartbeat. Lord Owl. Lord Dusk. Lord Ghost. He did seem like he could be a ghost. The faint, oblique sunlight made him seem wispy.
‘Are you my owl?’ she asked quietly, feeling the tremor in her voice. ‘Has it been you all along?’
The mouth of the creature softened. ‘No, Essylt. I have not impressed my presence on you in such a way.’ As if to prove it, he held up his arm in a graceful arch, just as the owl soared down soundlessly, alighting there as if he had never done anything else. Essylt had not even seen where in the sky it had come from, as if the beast simply took shape from air and clouds. ‘But I have sent him to you as a helper, a comforter. He heard your plea to bring you to answers. I have come to you now so that you may have them.’
Her heart began to beat faster. It resembled a drum now. She could feel it throb against her chest…or was it something more than that? Something like the pounding of the river inside of her as Rufus ran his hands up and down her body, dismissing the scrap of a nightgown on his way? ‘Is this a trap? Have you cursed me?’
She thought something changed in his face. She drew a step back. He did not advance on her as he replied. ‘No, annwyl un.
Dear one. Essylt couldn’t decide between drawing closer and fleeing from the hill back behind the safer poles of the settlement. Those tender words somehow felt familiar. ‘Then what is this?’
Still, he did not smile. There was something sad in his moon-eyes. ‘Do you remember when you and your sister listened to my stories after darkfall?’
‘Branwen and me?’ For a moment too surprised to feel fear, she shook her head. ‘I don’t… I think.’ But there were many things that she could not quite recall after her twin sister had died in the woods. She’d even told Morcant so. ‘Did you…?’
‘I did, annwyl un. I visited you both many times.’
‘Then why don’t I remember?’ Surely, something like the presence of a fey would have stayed with her?
‘The two of you were very young. I no longer came after your sister passed the veil.’
‘Why?’ Essylt asked, not even sure why her voice sounded so fragile all of a sudden. ‘Why did you not?’
The man bowed his head. It seemed a gesture of grief, if such a creature could even feel those human things. ‘Because you asked me to.’
She was silent for a while, struggling to find her voice and her sensible thoughts. ‘Why did I ask you?’
‘You blamed me for her death, annwyl un. You felt I could have saved her and did not.’
‘Could you have?’ She was biting her lip again.
‘Oh, Essylt.’ For a moment she thought that he would drift her way and embrace her. Still, he hardly moved. ‘I cradled her in my arms and kissed her spirit goodbye as she passed. There was no more I could do for her.’
‘Why?’ she asked again. ‘Why did you love us? What are we to you?’ She raised her hands from under the cloak. They were pale, the skin shining almost like his snowy features as the daylight passed through it. ‘What am I?’
‘Not a monster,’ Udd Wyll replied in a whisper. ‘Not cursed. Essylt, do not hate yourself so darkly.’ He moved now, drawing nearer with the fluency of water, sending a whisper up in the air. She flinched backwards as he reached out his hands to hers. ‘Do not fear me,’ he murmured, tenderly enveloping her hands in his. He felt cool to her skin. ‘You are, if anything, a fairer creature than most, Essylt…It is my lineage that you have inherited. Had your sister lived, she would have been given the same.’
‘You – you make it sound like it is a good thing,’ she breathed.
‘I hope my blood can be your blessing, dear heart.’
‘How come I possess your lineage?’ Essylt asked, feeling more unsettled than before. ‘That is not human at all…’
‘But for generations I have loved the women of your kin, annwyl un. It is your irrevocable heritage. But to love me back is a choice you are free to make or decline.’
She pulled her hands away jerkily. His fingers gave no resistance. ‘Love you back?’
‘You have a brother now. I had not foreseen his birth. Until then, I had indented to father an heir of my blood with you, Essylt.’
‘No!’ The fear had subsided as long as she had tried to remember him with her sister, but now it swept over her like a wave, filling her belly with a coiling river. After Rufus, she had enough of anyone trying to breed inside of her. ‘I don’t want this! I don’t want your gifts…I don’t want your blood!’
‘Essylt. You shall make your own choices, in time. That which runs through your veins can be turned to light, if you let it.’
‘I don’t,’ she said, shaking her head wildly, ‘I don’t see how.’
‘But you will. You carry this inside of you – to heal the land.’
‘Is it sick?’
He smiled now. ‘Yes, annwyl un. It’s very sick. Some infection has spread through it, weakening all that live here.’
‘You mean the Romans?’ She backed a step away again. ‘Then does that mean that I am to do what Morcant wanted of me after all?’ Her voice faltered, falling into a hoarse whisper. She raised her hands again, staring at them with mortification. ‘To kill their leaders and their legions? Drive them out of our territories as an envoy of Arawn?’
‘What you do will be your own choice, in time,’ he told her again. ‘I know many things, but your mind is your own, Essylt.’
‘So you would approve if I decide to kill a lot of men…’ She hoped Morcant would never ask that of her again.
‘I see who you are, dear one. Whatever you choose will be acts of love, like a boat carried on a stream.’
She inhaled. ‘You’re mistaken. What I do, I’ve done out of fear alone.’ Sweet Epona, when had she started to sound so bitter?

She heard something. Essylt’s wasn’t sure whether it came from the owl or from him; it sounded like a rustle and hooting. It sounded sad. Udd Wyll did embrace her now, so suddenly that she had no time to step back. But his touch was like air. She nearly disappeared in him, like wings were folded on both her sides. Yet they were just arms. She recalled her own embrace, how she had lightly enfolded Morcant by the campfire; a butterfly’s touch she had thought then, but it occurred to her now that it might as well have been an owl’s wings, an owl’s feathers caressing him with air. ‘This is not true, annwyl un. They are shadows speaking to you; believe not that darkness. It is through you that a boy lived who was not meant to live.’ Essylt quivered, feeling like a small flower in an open field. ‘And you named him Loved One.’
Carwyn. She wanted to hold him. Wanted to make sure he would always remain the loved one. Would father still care for him as much as he had, now that his birth had claimed both his wife and his daughter? ‘I must leave now,’ she uttered, freeing herself from his unearthly hold. ‘Morcant will be worried.’
‘Keep him with you,’ Udd Wyll said. Essylt did not know if he meant Morcant or the owl, which fluttered back to her own shoulder. She had no idea what words of goodbye were suitable in these circumstances, so she turned and left without speaking at all. The owl weighed no more than a cloud.
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Sonja
Red & dangerous! Rawr!
Finding a job proved harder than procuring a bed. In fact, for the latter he didn't need to go through any trouble whatsoever, since he overheard two Dobunni-women talking about how lord Lentulus had ordained that any household missing anything would be provided with everything they needed, free of charge. On one hand, he resented being dependent on the man - on the other, it was one thing less to worry about. He just hoped that Lentulus would not stop by in person to ask what they needed. By preference, he didn't want him to come within ten feet of Essylt.
After being turned down for the so-manieth time, Morcant gave up and walked back to their little house. Tomorrow, he'd stop by the caer. And if they wouldn't have work for him there, he'd keep picking pockets until he'd found something honest to do for a living. When things got really bad, he could always pester Cuhelyn for a loan.
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Marieke
Lief! <3 (and powerful!)
Essylt sat on the stool. She’d only just slipped back inside the house, fortunately without bumping into Rufus on the way. The owl was with her, sitting on her knees and looking up at her as if he expected some answer. Perhaps his master hoped that she would tell him her decision. But that was nonsense, she told herself. There was no choice to be made at all; she did not even half understand what he meant by offering her his love. If Branwen was still alive, would things have been different? Essylt wrecked and wrecked her brain, but there were only peculiar glimpses of her memories. An evening, her sister and herself sharing a room, listening to the wind and hail outside. That was what she remembered. Had it instead be a voice, a presence? It could be a trap. The Fair Folk sometimes trapped people, especially when they desired them for themselves. She thought of her own fragmented story, told after she had made Morcant speak, just to help her keep her senses. The young bride who’d been pushed and possed like water by the tide. Would she have made her own decisions? Udd Wyll said that she would.
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Sonja
Red & dangerous! Rawr!
Morcant pushed the door open and found Essylt sitting on the only stool they owned. Well, not for long. He smiled at the girl. Was it his imagination, or did she look even more pale than usual? She certainly looked preoccupied. 'Got some good news,' he said as greeting. 'Well, sort of, anyway. We won't be sleeping on the floor for much longer.'
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Marieke
Lief! <3 (and powerful!)
She blinked the images away. They were probably not real memories, but things inspired by the words of the few man. ‘We – what?’
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