| Quotes III | |
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| Topic Started: Mar 5 2009, 06:11 PM (4,022 Views) | |
| Angharad | Mar 5 2009, 06:11 PM Post #1 |
is it april yet?
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"Ah, then if we meet again, I shall refer to you as Cinaed." For she assumed, and rightly so, that her uncle had anglicized his name as a way of humiliating him, of showing his power. But since Adela had no such power, and since she had no reason to wield it against this man regardless, she saw no reason to insult him by calling him a name he did not see as his own. Adela - Far From the Home I Love |
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| Hefina | Mar 5 2009, 06:23 PM Post #2 |
 
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That was the moment of realisation; the moment when your body asked you what you've done...the first time you notice the empty, cold breath inside you. The dizzy feeling, the lack of emotions, the abyss before your eyes and under your feet. No matter if men or women, no matter if for vengeance or self defense. The first time you kill someone marked a life for good. Evan knew it. And now she did too. -- His blade rumbled against the cobbles as the captain leaned without breath his shoulder against the stonewall. He just couldn't, he needed...Closing his eyes, feeling how the strengths left pass to the pain to fill his body he welcomed the rain on his face, the hurt, the pain, the sound of the storm around, the smell of the mud under his feet. Everything feeling his senses. Everything humming softly that he was alive. -- because she was alone and wounded. Not her body, nor her flesh, but mind, heart and soul. And Evan ran the streets, the narrow alleys under water and over mud with blood and steel in his hands, but with the aim to find her, just to be there. Because Evan knew what was to kill someone, but now Seren knew it too. Evan - What I've done? love it, love him, love you *clings* |
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| Evan | Mar 5 2009, 06:29 PM Post #3 |
Brother, Soldier, Friend
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*huggles tight* no, I love her and i love YOU... |
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| Hefina | Mar 5 2009, 07:01 PM Post #4 |
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It was an honest, innocent remark, one to be entirely expected and that he had been asked before. Expected or not, though, it spurred the same ache. The longing for Abernethy, for the Forth, to be able to ride between the Highlands and the Lowlands, to revel in the glory of that exact place where the two met with the green hills and valleys of the north and the fields of the south. -- "Aye, that was what I'd hoped. But I am afraid we cannot always go home again, my lady. At least, I could not." -- He watched them walk back down the corridor...without envy for their situation, even though the relationship of parent and child was one he would never know. There was just a distant ache that he knew was nothing more the product of his humanity and natural urge to long for what he did not have. Cinaed - Far from the home I love eeeeeeehehehehe and just *clings* and *thud* and *clings* |
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| Angharad | Mar 5 2009, 07:11 PM Post #5 |
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is it april yet?
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He just couldn't, he needed...Closing his eyes, feeling how the strengths left pass to the pain to fill his body he welcomed the rain on his face, the hurt, the pain, the sound of the storm around, the smell of the mud under his feet. Everything feeling his senses. Everything humming softly that he was alive. Evan - What I've Done see that...that there proves that there's nothing "just" about being "just a soldier" that was pure military...pain is your friend, it lets you know you're alive... *clings* and the line at the end... *worships at altar of el's echoes* |
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| Felicia Smith | Mar 5 2009, 07:39 PM Post #6 |
The Captain's Wife
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A touch of context is required. It was one of the many duties of the Earl of Chester to bestow the title Magistrum omnium leccatorum et meretricum totius Cestriae on some worthy man. In other words: Master of all Minstrels and Ladies-of-Negotiable-Affection for the whole of Cheshire. Now, Earl Ranulph had gained his earldom at the tender age of nine, and only reached majority last year. Somewhere between that time a point had been passed. A point of no return so to speak. Because at the end of the day, who wants to explain to a nine year old that he has to appoint a man to look out for musicians and...oh for want of a better euphemism seamstresses. Because the inevitable question 'What's a meretricia?' would just be too horrible to contemplate. So...somewhere along the way, Ranulph had become old enough to understand. And they'd missed it. His advisors and guardians, and now it was all a bit..uncomfortable. Since there was no such Magistrum. In lieu of one, if there was a problem with a minstrel hogging a good spot on the street or...whatever problems could conceivably arise out of playing the lute...heh heh...luters...looters... never mind... ANYWAY... in lieu of such a Master, it had been slippery-shouldered off to the Sheriff to keep an eye on the hornblowers. And the musicians too. Cheriff - No rest for the naughty *cackles* eheheehehehe, loooooved it...but yes *sing song voice* uncomfortable *grin* Edited by Felicia Smith, Mar 5 2009, 07:43 PM.
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| Tangwystl Goch | Mar 5 2009, 10:10 PM Post #7 |
The Red of Rhos
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What did she know? What did Angharad know about Evan? The strange thing was she couldn't for the life of her remember his surname. And the months had passed, she couldn't remember the colour of his eyes. But she remembered...she knew... I know that you stopped him killing her, and that it was the right thing to do for his sake, but that he'll never quite forgive himself for letting me wield the knife for him. That you will never thank me for saving a part of his soul...and that I was tempted...so tempted... She remembered the closeness. The soldier's hands on her back, a flickering sense of desire even though the blood was pooling at their feet, smeared on their hands and now on their faces. Oh, perhaps because of it in her case, the rush and the daring, screaming challenge to God to strike her down. She remembered that she had stopped herself reaching out, stopped herself giving into that temptation to use him and fill the void for a little while. Why had she done that? Because she had seen something in Evan Harwooth that... Harwooth. That's his name. “Let me prove there is still hope for them." A fervent plea, but not desperate. Confident. Evan had not doubted that he could reunite Dayton and Siwan, and he was willing to do anything to make that possible. She'd told him over and over that there was no hope, and he'd have given life and soul, almost did give life and soul for his friend and brother to be happy with a woman he-- Oh aye, my lord of Hashville, how well did Siwan know you before she gave her life into your keeping? How well does she know you now? “I am not that strong, I barely survive the first time and I left all my strengths then...And he didn't tell me...He didn't trust me” "What right do you have, my lord Hashville, to expect him to trust you when you do not trust him?" She new what she was doing, it was instinctive, it was natural. She was protecting and defending and avenging all at once. Unasked for, unwanted, and God, Evan would no doubt beg her to stay silent rather than lay anything else on Dayton's shoulders. But she could not stop herself... And then something odd happened in her head...in the dark caverns where her memories were kept locked away until she had time for them. And they didn't seem to be happy at their captivity. They wrenched and ripped as they broke loose. “It was easier when he just let the days pass, when he had only resignation before the pain..." "The past makes us who we are, Thalia, and his past was beautiful, perfect...he couldn't just wipe the slate clean, he took ten years learning that...ten years coming to terms with what he saw as a failure on his part..." "I have to know what is that more he couldn't tell me...and find the way to stop him falling because this time...He won't be back from his hell.” "It was so hard for him to even think he could love you, so hard for him to face the idea of wanting another woman, and then only to realise he will never have what he wanted so much to give you...you have no idea how much courage it must have taken..." And she remembered the first moment she had found Evan drunk, gazing at the bottle in his hand as though he'd found a piece that would do to bridge a gap he'd lost the piece for. How angry she'd been. How frightened she'd been. Ten years she had failed to save Jamie. And so had Evan failed to save Dayton from his darkness. And they would both of them have done anything, anything to protect their friend. Confused, she blinked, trying to understand herself. Was it herself she saw in Evan's struggle, or Jamie? All at once she remembered a long night perhaps eight months after Anwyn's death, she'd been in a tavern in France, good quality place. And she'd looked over and seen a shadow of a man sitting with his chin on his hand, and a distance in his eyes. When next she'd seen him he had been mirthlessly playing dice with a duo of tricksters. So she'd joined them. In the end it had just been her and him, her asking questions, him refusing to answer them, and she'd lost and won, but mostly lost. And she hadn't been playing tricks that night, she'd been more herself than for many years afterwards. But it was his expressions that had imprinted themselves on her memory. The dark mutter of conversation about broken honour and the ache of despair, a need for forgiveness, absolution and penance. He had ridden east the next day with a horse bought of her money. And she? Angharad had turned west, ridden home, been too late. Prince John had returned in disgrace from Ireland. James was not with him. Why had the significance of that not announced itself to her? How had she not remembered in London? Because we were trying to cope with losing him again, and I could only barely think that the five years was over at last. That the ten years was over too. "He might not love me, he never loved me, but he never loved you either!" Certain other things suddenly clamoured for her attention. It was all very well finally letting herself think and feel for the first time in ten years, but there was immediacy to be seen to, and she realised with a sickening certainty that Evan had gone to Chester...where she could not go to help him...and Mael and Craig would kill him. Well, mainly Maelgwyn. They'd hear the honest soldier, who might want bloody vengeance from a woman who'd broken his closest friend, and they'd see him as a threat, think he was Abi's man, and they'd kill him. On her orders. And Dayton...Dayton had sent him...she wasn't Jamie, but she knew people, and she could read what people did not say. Anger and horror and guilt thrust grief and confusion aside for a few moments and she blazed with a shock into the full glamour of her fury. "What do I know?" She raised her hand and thrust it before his eyes, fingers splayed. "I know that. I know him. I know he'd die for you, sell his soul for you, and that he's smart enough to know that I am the one woman alive who could help him keep himself safe and untouched at the end of it. I know that that soldier's battle is for you, that he has set his own wants and needs and hopes and dreams aside in seeking that your dreams still exist and that even if you cast him aside he'll still watch over you, reach out when you fall, and work from the edges of your vision because if you ever knew what he is prepared to do for you, your honour would cast him out." She gasped in a breath, and she was shaking. "So tell me...did you tell him to come back?" She felt Jamie's cheek against hers, the hairs on her neck prickling at the memory, and heard him whisper, "Always come back." A mockery. A bitter mockery. "Did you ask him to come back when he was done giving his all for you?" “Tell me how must I call, to make you answer." Angharad - thread not going to apologise for quoting *shrug* just...just...no words |
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| Angharad | Mar 5 2009, 10:16 PM Post #8 |
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is it april yet?
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It was the smell more than anything that he had found it the hardest to recall about Sherwood Forest in his time away. The slightly damp feel to the air against the heated skin of his neck, the soft scent of wet leaves and soil and bark. It smelt green and clean and like home, though he’d not spent long living in it’s leafy armed embrace. Carter (EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE) - I've walked this floor... *** "What is it you like to do then, Friedrich? Politics? Gambling? I'll keep it to court appropriate conversation," a small grin appeared at his lips, somewhere between joking and genuine interest to learn more about the Bavarian and why he was in Paris, "And leave out anything that might scandalize the ladies." Talvas - Ja, Hallo Schatze *** “Actually, truth be told I am outside because the last few nights I’ve been ever so lonesome. Do you ever get lonely? I’ve been out here all afternoon looking for a new friend.” She then moved over to him and placed her arm gently on his arm and asked quietly, “would you like to be my friend?” Mina - NO rest for the naughty (i think that's why hari used to giggle over talvas...i'll ask her when she's...yeah..in a couple of years...) Edited by Angharad, Mar 5 2009, 10:29 PM.
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| Evan | Mar 5 2009, 11:57 PM Post #9 |
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Brother, Soldier, Friend
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just the whole of that post...god...im crying and smiling and ...pain...and ... *huggles* |
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| Angharad | Mar 6 2009, 09:12 AM Post #10 |
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is it april yet?
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*hugs el* * Even if he had just told Ifor to ---k off. Joanie - i love weddings...just so long as they're not mine... genius 
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| Angharad | Mar 6 2009, 11:54 AM Post #11 |
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is it april yet?
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“I ask your pardon, she is a good girl but” His eyes looked to her curly hair and back to Gwenllian “she is a bit nervous. Is a deal between us, if she behaves” Then he lift the girl a bit on his arms and looked at her as she chuckled again “then I have to dance with her” His daughter then left that point clear when she said so in a more than loud voice, making the father looked around trying to see if his guests were busy enough to don't notice it. But he only found some familiar faces that laughed and raised their goblets to them. Edny - From Wedding...to party eeeeeeeeee awwwwwwwww *points* *giggles* |
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| Angharad | Mar 6 2009, 06:15 PM Post #12 |
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is it april yet?
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What would Evan be able to do for his shake, his lord and friend? And the answer raised ringing in his temples as his eyes narrowed looking at her. An answer that turned from a wild whirlwind to a devastating hurricane inside him Anything. * Because after that second that had made his heart miss a beat, all what she wanted to know was if he had asked Evan to come back. When he had not. Dayton - Y Marchiog et l'autre Galloise (btw...really random to only just think of this...but did i ever translate that? The Marcher Lord and the Other Welshwoman...see, i know el speaks french so *grins*) Edited by Angharad, Mar 6 2009, 06:19 PM.
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4:23 PM Nov 30
