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Post by Celta Meiru on Oct 16, 2011 23:42:11 GMT -5
"I may be stubborn and hate the nobles that suffocate me, but I'm not an idiot," was her reply to him. "I would never publicly say what I think. I prefer to keep my head on my shoulders." Although several times, she almost lost it and spouted off everything in her mind, if Hadrian hadn't been there to shut her up and make an excuse for her to get some air and calm down. She knew it was also pointless to tell them your opinions in court, especially Celta's, because they never listened anyway. It was true, what Gwaine had said. Nobles did look after their interests, and their interests alone.
"They care too much for everything they want and not what they need or already have," she agreed with him solemnly, nodding a quick but polite thank you as the man set a new tankard of ale in front of her. She took a long sip as he told her she was unusual for a noblewoman, and she laughed gently. At least he was being honest with her now, and that's what she liked to hear. "Thank you. Of course I don't mind when you give me such a kind and true compliment," she smirked at him and looked away for a second before back at him.
She listened to him talk about his time in Mercia, intent to hear what he had to say. That was something they had in common. Celta hadn't truly been back to this part of Mercia since she left when she was twelve. The company was more scarce here than it had been, and everyone was still acquaintances or strangers here. Not a lot of people in Mercia cared about each other as much as Camelot, even the commoners. Mercia was mostly a city where you trusted a small amount of people, and even then, they can turn on you in a heartbeat.
"No. I haven't been back to Mercia since my family died..." she froze, her eyes immediately closing as she realized what she had said. No one was supposed to know who she was, why she was back, or anything about her connections with Mercia. And here she was, stupidly running her mouth and telling a man she barely knew why she left. With a deep breath and long exhale, her haunted eyes reopened to look right into his before she contemplated chugging her drink. Well, now he knew part of everything. She wondered just what else she would end up having to tell him tonight. |
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Post by Celta Meiru on Oct 16, 2011 21:11:28 GMT -5
Celta numbly walked among these commoners in the city, watching and memorizing each face as she moved past, her eyes red and bloodshot from tears that have been shed all day. She was weary, her feet like lead as she finally stopped at one particular family and put her hand on the shoulder of the woman standing there. She turned to Celta and immediately started to cry, and Celta pulled her into a tight embrace, trying to soothe her but not knowing how. What could she possibly say?
The day had started off with the city being summoned to the courtyard of Camelot to listen to their new tyrant, Lady Morgana...no, it was Queen Morgana, now...speak to the knights. Celta knew Sir Leon and the others would never yield to her evil rule, yet Celta also knew Morgana would never give up either. Her overthrow of King Uther...the king Celta swore her allegiance to...Celta was there that day. It was horrible the way Morgause and Morgana forced Uther to see the betrayal of his own ward turned daughter.
Celta hated seeing her king fall like that, and so suddenly and cruelly. He might be a tough ruler, but that never merits being betrayed by your daughter, a child you've cared for for years. And then the knights, who would never change allegiances, were taken to the dungeons after they told Morgana where their allegiances lied. And so today, she thought she would change that. She brought them out and lined them up side by side in the middle of the courtyard in front of everyone to see. Celta was standing there in the courtyard as well, and she watched her friends anxiously as they faced the Queen.
She asked them again of their loyalties, to which they began to chant "Long live the King!" Celta smiled proudly and then looked up to see the angry determination on the Queen's face before she spoke once more and released her hand in the air to give the archers an order to shoot. Celta's eyes widened in fear as she waited for the knights to be shot one by one. However, what happened next would have caused Celta to scream in horror had her breath not been stolen from her in the gruesome reality of the situation.
The immortal archers began to shoot the innocent crowd of people surrounding the knights. Everyone who was standing in that courtyard, nobles who supported Arthur and Uther and commoners who never cared either way, started to scream in terror and dash for the exit of the castle to the city. Celta was separated from her adoptive parents as those around them began to push and run in every which way possible, and she cried out as she fell to the ground. Her arm and shoulder hit the hard ground painfully, and she immediately crawled a few feet before getting to her feet once more.
Her heart skipped a few beats in her chest as she froze. An archer aimed his crossbow at a little girl who was looking for her parents. It was the daughter of one of her friends from the city. Celta screamed for him to stop as she ran towards the girl; however, it was too late, and she watched the child fall. Celta was with her a few seconds later, as Morgana gave the order to stop the attack to allow the dead to be picked up and buried. Celta death glared the Queen as she left the balcony and the knights were taken away. She would never forget the shared look of pure horror and guilt on their faces. The young noblewoman wanted to rush after them but found herself unable to see anything but the girl's face.
Celta held the beautiful little girl, sobbing as she felt the child take her last breath and then go limp in her arms. It took the cruelest person to order the death of children, and Celta hated the new ruler as much as she hated the men who murdered her family...if not more. Celta was the one who had brought the little girl back to her devastated family, who was already panicked trying to look for her. So now here she was, giving condolences and then letting go to make her way to her destination.
She arrived back at the castle, knowing exactly where she was going and taking a sneaky way to get there. Stealth was necessary as she thankfully slipped unnoticed past immortal guards on her way to the dungeon. Her heart beat a mile a minute with every step she took further, until she finally reached the dungeon without being caught. She guessed there was no one down there because Morgana thought that the men were locked up and shame made them unable to think or move to resist for the night.
"Uther? Sirs? It's Lady Celta..." she whispered loudly yet weakly, trying to hold back more tears as she glanced around hurriedly for signs of the guards. If she was caught, who knows what would happen? |
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Post by Celta Meiru on Oct 16, 2011 20:04:01 GMT -5
She never allowed herself to get close to anyone she did not know, for she did not want to lose anyone else. It was different with her adoptive family because they took her in when she had no one or nothing else in her favor at that time, and now she was paying back their, kindness, if you will. But here she was telling this man who had been a stranger at the beginning of the night her entire life story, pretty much. It felt both strange and comforting to talk to Percival about everything that had happened. It felt normal.
She diverted her attention to the joviality of the commoners for a long moment, smiling from ear to ear as a group of couples danced to a quick beat of the musicians and laughed as they twirled and stepped around. She openly relaxed and even clapped when the dancers finished the song. Laughing, she looked back at Percival as the next song started up. He seemed to be enjoying himself out here as well, and she liked that he was neither offended or awkward about being surrounded by the types of people she grew up around.
"Thank you, Percival. If there are any new developments, you will be one of the first to know," she said without thinking. Realizing her mistake, she cleared her throat. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to use your name so improperly. It's a bad habit of mine." Smiling, she attempted to shrug it off and hoped he would do the same. She quickly changed the subject to the next thing he had told her. "Trouble? That should have been my middle name. It seems that it follows me everywhere, or I'm in the middle of it. I don't know why. I just don't know when to be quiet and follow the crowd sometimes..." She slightly hung her head, thinking of all the recent arguments she had with Hadrian about marriage.
Suddenly, some of the musicians and couples seemed to notice Celta standing there and started waving her over to dance. She laughed and put her hands up, about to decline, when they started to plead and take her hands. She had been to a few commoner parties and danced with them, but she was talking to Sir Percival, and she did not want to leave him standing there while she danced. Glancing over at him, she wondered what he thought about it. |
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Post by Celta Meiru on Oct 13, 2011 21:08:29 GMT -5
Woohoo! Congratulations! *throws a big party in winners' honor* Woohoo, oh yeah! P-A-R-T-Y PARTAYYY!!!!!
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Post by Celta Meiru on Oct 13, 2011 19:47:03 GMT -5
It was part of the five days of festivities for the coronation and birthday of Arthur, who was a friend of hers, and she made a connection with Sir Percival, one of Arthur's knights. He was kind and very similar to her, and they talked for a good portion of the evening, after he had spilled wine on her dress, which she was still smiling about. And she couldn't forget that Arthur was now where he belonged, on the throne of Camelot as serving King of Camelot since his father wasn't very well and has basically withdrawn to his chambers day and night.
Eolas was also behaving very well, so Celta took advantage of the situation and urged her on even faster so that they were galloping along the open green land. Celta's hair was down and whipping around her face and shoulders as they ran on for another ten minutes or so before Celta slowed her mare down, gasping in deep, laughing breaths. She decided that the both of them had had enough exercise and so turned her on the route back to the manor. One of their servants working in the field, a kind older man named William, met her as she trotted past.
"My lady, why are you still riding? Lord Hadrian said there will be a visitor today," he told her with a bow of his head. Celta slapped a palm to her forehead and thanked him with a soft smile before prodding Eolas into a canter to get there before the guest, hopefully. There was no strangers in sight, and she sighed in relief. Hadrian still had not given her any clue as to who was coming to their estate, and she did not really care at this point. Friends of her father were either other members of the court or men she would rather not converse with.
"There you are!" Edella snapped Celta out of her reverie, and she looked down at her as she dismounted and led the horse towards the stable, but not before her mother fixed her hair and nodded. Celta was wearing her silk, white riding dress which form fitted to her with her knee high black boots. "You look naturally beautiful today, darling. At least you look presentable, unlike last time." Celta tried not to smile at what her parents had considered a disaster, yet she found absolutely hilarious. Well, she couldn't help it if the pigs had decided to escape their pen, and she was the only one around to catch them!
Her father came striding out of the house purposefully, and Celta was about to roll her eyes and keep walking to put Eolas away, but he glared at her to stop and then his attention was focused on a spot ahead. A polite smile broke out on his face, and she knew the visitor had arrived. Another older servant was standing beside her, ready to take all of the horses back to the stable. She stroked Eolas' neck and then proceeded to turn herself and the horse around to face and greet the newcomer, a kind smile on her face as Edella had always taught her, with no idea of just who had come to visit that day. |
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Post by Celta Meiru on Oct 13, 2011 13:40:42 GMT -5
The young woman told him her story and saw how he was sad for her as well, and it tugged at her heart. So she was not alone in her pain and grief...there was someone here who truly understood what she had been through and the feelings that would never go away. Percival was someone who couldn't judge her for acting the way she did or feeling as though the world would sometimes swallow you whole, and it made her feel even better when he offered to help wherever he could.
"Thank you," she answered with a true smile at him as he took her hand. She looked up at him for a long moment, and then at the necklace in their joined hands before her placed his other hand over it. Her eyes returned to look at him, and the sadness faded slowly as he told her what his father said. Celta smiled softly and nodded once, and she knew he would keep his word of helping her, in this matter and for the future. She felt a connection with Sir Percival, not just because of their similar pasts, but also because of the noble knight that he was.
No, she didn't mean noble by status or birth, but noble as a man who had gone through hell and back and instead of falling apart, he rose above it and became a Knight of Camelot, a man who would risk his life to save others over himself. Title meant nothing compared to what these men do every day to keep the kingdom of Camelot safe. He was smiling again, a relaxed and wide smile on his face, and she couldn't help but join in.
"I think air sounds lovely," she smiled and began walking next to him towards the courtyards. "I need to at least know if my father is still alive...he's the only true family I have left..." she looked at him thoughtfully. "I am closer to Edella than my adoptive father, Hadrian...I don't know, there's just something I don't completely trust about him. He's trying to force me to marry, but I refuse...how can I marry someone I do not love?" Celta sighed. |
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Post by Celta Meiru on Oct 13, 2011 13:13:45 GMT -5
However, all pessimistic thoughts flew from her mind as soon as Caitrin started grinning as wide as she and threw her arms around her best friend. Celta returned the hug enthusiastically, smiling from ear to ear in both immense relief and joy. It was just like old times again. She stood there for a few more moments in peaceful silence before she heard Caitrin speak.
"I thought-" Celta frowned and sighed sadly, nodding once before Caitrin pulled back to just look at her friend to make absolute sure she wasn't dreaming. Celta smiled and shrugged casually.
"I know. And I am sorry for that thought. I never should have put you through any of that," Celta responded calmly and quietly, her head bowed low in shame. She blushed a little at the compliment and smiled, gesturing right back to her. "So have you, my friend. You are more mature than you used to be...although if I remember correctly, I was usually the one getting us into trouble in the first place!" Celta laughed at the memories surfacing in her mind, her eyes shining mischievously. Celta hadn't smiled like this in a long time. It was good to see her friend again. She looked around them and then back at Caitrin, curiosity getting the better of her.
"So, have you been well?" |
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Post by Celta Meiru on Oct 12, 2011 21:24:42 GMT -5
"A joint like this?" she replied to his question with a raised brow of her own, the light fading from her eyes as she glanced around at all of the happy people around them drinking or talking as though they did not have a care in the world. "Compared to court, this is closer to a home for me. Nobility is such a ridiculous notion. Pretending to have power and importance. Actions speak louder than any damn birthright. Most of the court doesn't deserve their titles, and if it was up to me...one could choose their own status." She laughed bitterly and glanced at him with a shrug. When it came to talking about the people who surrounded and smothered her while she resided in Camelot for the past four years, it was a sensitive subject.
"I don't mean to snap, but status, money, and titles? None of that matters to me. There are more important things in life, like staying alive. Give me a horse, some good ale, and friendly company, and I'm all set." With that said, she took a long sip of ale and smiled once again at him, glad to be changing the subject when he told her his name. Gwaine, just Gwaine, to which she nodded, putting her hand out for him to shake. He was the first Gwaine she'd ever met, and so she was sure she'd remember him, especially since he had such a striking face.
"Pleasure to meet you, just Gwaine," she tilted her head towards him. "Come to Mercia often?" |
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Post by Celta Meiru on Oct 12, 2011 8:38:32 GMT -5
So he had lost his family as well. Her head snapped back up with wide eyes as she heard his brief but terrible past of how his family died by the hands of the monster people named King Cenred. He was a ruthless tyrant who was also sadistic, greedy, and evil. He obviously did not care who he killed as long as he got money, power, and satisfaction from it. And as long as he remained king. Her hand lifted up to his arm, where she laid it gently to reassure him he was not alone. Celta swallowed hard and took a deep breath and a sip of wine before she began.
"I am so sorry for those you lost, Sir Percival," she told him grimly. "And you couldn't have known about my family. They were murdered when I was twelve. I would be dead as well had I not promised my older brother that I would stay hidden while the men were there. I watched them kill him and my mother. And then they set my house on fire and left. I tried to get to them, but the next thing I remember, I was waking up alone outside of my home. Someone had gotten me out before the fire had gotten to me..." Celta paused for a moment to glance at Percival and squeeze his arm with her arm softly. There were tears in her eyes.
"When my father returned home that day and saw what had happened...I'd never seen an angrier man. It was as though nothing matter but revenge. He abandoned me there, and I left Mercia. The only thing I have as to a clue of who the murderers are is this." She pulled her necklace off and handed it to him. On it was a ring with a crest that was unknown to her, and she waited to see if he knew what it meant somehow.
She didn't mean for the conversation to go this way, but it fell into place this way. Things just happened. Her eyes searched his with a sadness they both shared. |
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Post by Celta Meiru on Oct 11, 2011 22:40:40 GMT -5
"Yes, for the most part. I have seen their determination and strength, though, and I know Arthur is safe as long as his knights are around, wine or no wine," she responded intelligently. She shook her head as she also heard the knights' laughter from where they were standing. Percival told her he would like to stay with her instead of going back to the party, and she smiled up at him warmly. "No, sir, I would like it if you kept me company as well."
He seemed concerned at the look on her face, and she was about to try to smile again when he asked if she would rather her mother were here with her. The look on her face froze as images of her real mother, Caly, flashed through her mind quickly. She swallowed hard and felt hot tears prickling the backs of her eyes, and she quickly looked down and broke eye contact with the tall and kind knight. She knew he had been talking about Edella, but the way he said it, he had no idea she was adopted. Not a lot of the court in Camelot truly knew what happened with her family, the real reason she was adopted. But he had no idea, he couldn't be blamed for not realizing he had brought up her dead mother.
"...No. My adoptive mother, Edella, is better talking and laughing with the other ladies inside," Celta finally managed to speak quietly, before staring up at him again. "I do not need her. I'd rather you stay." She didn't want to scare him off by her reaction, and she hoped that he didn't think she was even more odd. She wanted to explain herself if he gave her the chance. |
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Post by Celta Meiru on Oct 11, 2011 20:51:07 GMT -5
"Yes, almost," she gave an easygoing laugh of her own. "I must admit that chicken tastes pretty good. The poor thing." Although inside her stomach gave a little rumble at the thought of eating chicken. She hadn't had it in so long. Yet at the slight question of the Prince's whereabouts, she shook her head and continued to smile comfortably. "No, he is away for a few days. There has been unrest in the city, and Arthur has gone with his knights to keep his people safe." She was chatting so nicely, she forgot that she didn't address her close friend as Prince Arthur, as the other normal noblewomen should. But she kept going with a thoughtful glance at the woman.
She was asked if the woman could sit next to her, and Celta nodded once, her eyes wandering casually around them out of habit to look for any danger or even her adoptive parents coming outside to yell at her for leaving the other nobles to sit outside. The woman wished to rest her feet, and Celta would gladly let her rest. She knew those types of days where she worked and walked all day long and only wished to rest afterwards. And the other question the stranger asked caught her slightly off guard, and she laughed a bit.
"I don't think I will ever be used to the court," she replied honestly. "It's never been my strong suit." It was true. Celta had never grown close with the idea of curtsying, parties, politics, strategic marriages...it all sickened her. The main reasons she remained in the court was for her adoptive parents to be happy and to stay close with the few friends she had made, the ones who accepted her differences and never judged her for who she really was. She hated pretending to be anything she wasn't, and a noble, proper woman was not one of them. |
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Post by Celta Meiru on Oct 11, 2011 20:11:30 GMT -5
She watched the other young woman's reactions, and she had several different emotions plain on her face. The first was curiosity as to who she was, and Celta's heart sank again. She did not remember her. However, that was quickly replaced by complete confusion and bewilderment, to which Celta unclasped her white knuckles and waited as Caitrin took a step towards her.
"Celta?" Caitrin finally spoke one word right back, and it was also her name. Celta's eyes watered, and she fought a quivering lip as she grinned back with a bright yet still sad face. Her best friend remembered her from a few years of separation. Thank goodness. Celta walked towards her and nodded as she asked if it was really her.
"Yes. It's me, Cait," she responded excitedly, standing in front of her now, unsure whether to hug her or stay where she was. Now that Caitrin knew the truth, she could either yell at her old friend or choose to hug her, but Celta would not push her to do either. It was up to her how she would react. Celta was just glad to see her again and be able to show her she was really there and alive, in one piece. |
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Post by Celta Meiru on Oct 11, 2011 19:36:59 GMT -5
With a hugely relieved smile, she emerged from the guest room to stand face to face with Percival again, but not before she told the maidservant thank you and bowed respectfully to her. The other woman left the two of them alone again, and Celta casually nodded at the goblet and spoke as he handed it to her. She didn't speak again til after she took a long sip of the wine inside and exhaled a deep sigh of contentment. This is where she felt comfortable. With a few people, drinking, talking about things other than marriage, politics, and status with money, and overall being happy and carefree.
"Thank you, Sir Percival," she smiled at him once more and listened as he asked whether she wanted to return to the festivities or not, and she shot a quick, unsure glance at the door to the hall before shaking her head. "If you do not mind, I would like to remain out here, just for a bit longer. I don't want to go back to the nobles just yet." She wasn't ready to jump into the crazy lion's den again and have every criticize her for changing and not making a big deal like she should have. And then she turned back and smiled at him as if to tell him he had nothing to be worried about. She looked around for a good place to walk and talk, and then she glanced at him again.
"If you wish to go back to the party, you can go. I'm sure the knights keep a merrier, more talkative company than I do," she told him with that same soft smile but a look in her eyes that told she had seen more sadness than she should in her 21 years as she pointed her arm behind them and shrugged it off casually. She would like to talk to the knight some more, get to know him better, but it was his choice whether he wished to stay or not. She would not judge him either way he went. |
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Post by Celta Meiru on Oct 11, 2011 19:20:06 GMT -5
The only thing men like that ever got from her was a swift kick in the groin or a slap in the face. And speaking of men, she finally stopped glancing between her ale and the man in the corner when she saw him looking back at her. She cursed inwardly as he stood up, but she pretended to look at the sleeve on her arm as though something was suddenly extremely fascinating on it. Her eyes dropped low, and she took a sip of her ale silently, hoping he would sit back down or walk past her. No such luck.
She only cast him a sideways glance after he had gently put his ale on the table and laid his arm out there so he could look at her. He was even more handsome up close to her, and she raised her blue eyes to look at his triumphant and grinning face. Even though she did not yet smile, she could inwardly admit that he was attractive and seemed interested in talking with her. She wondered what this so-called predicament was and raised a brow amusingly, listening to him speak as she turned her full attention on him and set down her tankard. Until he opened that charming mouth of his.
He complimented her, saying how he thought her name would be pretty, but not as beautiful as her face. She blinked at him a few times and raised her brow even higher, starting to laugh at his last sentence. Well, she couldn't hate him for trying, but if he thought she would swoon and giggle like a woman of the court from that line, he was truly mistaken. Although, she was flattered because she saw that he was genuine when he called her beautiful.
"And...how many other women have you used that exact same excuse on?" She just had to ask him that challenging question as she stood next to him with her head raised and a smirk on her face. She was neither offended nor ready to run away with him. He was a very curious man, and she wanted to know more, so she supposed she would give him what he wanted for the time being. "I am Lady Celta Meiru, of Camelot." And with that said, she bowed her head respectfully. "And who is the handsome man I can say I am speaking to right now, sir?" |
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Post by Celta Meiru on Oct 11, 2011 18:48:57 GMT -5
 - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - [/b][/color][/font] ]MEET THE CELEBRITY CRAIG PARKER AS LORD HADRIAN PLAMEN, A MAN WHO LOOKS AND ACTS CHARMING TO ALL HE MEETS; HOWEVER, IN HIS HEART HE IS ANYTHING BUT. A SADISTIC, CRUEL MAN FUELED BY POWER AND GREED, HE IS A "CLOSE" NOBLEMAN TO THE PENDRAGONS ON CAMELOT'S COURT AND SO HAS BEEN CAREFULLY WATCHING THE GOINGS-ON THERE. HE KNOWS THE KING IS WEAKENING AND THE PRINCE IS RATHER NEW AT RULING AN ENTIRE KINGDOM, AND HE KNOWS IT'S HIS PERFECT TIME TO STRIKE.
HE WANTS TO THRONE FOR HIMSELF, AND HE HAS BEGUN MAKING PLANS TO TAKE THE KINGDOM BY FORCE BY MEANS OF OTHER KINGS WHO WANT THE THRONE, SUCH AS CENRED. THERE'S A BIG PROBLEM, AND THAT IS HIS ADOPTED DAUGHTER, CELTA. SHE IS STUBBORN AND HEADSTRONG AND A GOOD WOMAN AT HEART, SO HE IS DETERMINED TO EITHER MARRY HER OFF TO ANOTHER KINGDOM OR MAKE SURE SHE IS GONE BY THE TIME HIS PLANS BEGIN TO FALL INTO PLACE. AFTER ALL, HE WOULDN'T WANT HER WARNING HER FRIENDS, THE KNIGHTS, AND ARTHUR HIMSELF OF HIS PLANS, WOULD HE?[/font] - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - [/b] TEMPLATE BY KEAAA AT CAUTION[/font][/center][/blockquote]  - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - [/b][/color][/font] VIGGO MORTENSEN IS THE NEXT VICTIM TO PLAY CELTA'S REAL FATHER, CHIRAN MEIRU. HE WAS ONCE A ROYAL OSTLER FOR THE KING, TRAINING EVEN THE BEST WAR HORSES AND JOUSTERS FOR THE KNIGHTS, EVEN THE KING, OF CAMELOT. IN RETURN, HIS STATUS WAS THAT OF A NOBLE, AND HE WAS TAUGHT BY SOME OF THE KNIGHTS HOW TO FIGHT, THOUGH HE NEVER FELT HE NEEDED THOSE TYPES OF SKILLS. HE THEN SAW THAT THE NOBLE LIFE WAS NOT FOR HIM AND SO LEFT CAMELOT WITH HIS WIFE AND TWO CHILDREN TO MAKE A HAPPIER LIFE FOR THEM IN MERCIA.
THAT HAPPINESS SHATTERED WHEN HE RETURNED HOME FROM A TRIP TO FIND HIS WIFE AND SON MURDERED, THEIR HOUSE SET ON FIRE, AND HIS DEAR DAUGHTER CELTA UNCONSCIOUS ON THE GROUND. FROM THAT MOMENT, ALL HE COULD SEE WAS EVIL IN THE WORLD AND WANTED ONLY REVENGE. HE ABANDONED CELTA TO GET REVENGE, BUT NOT BEFORE GIVING HER ADVICE TO LEAVE MERCIA AND GIVING HER HIS FAVORITE CLOAK. NOW, YEARS LATER, HE WANTS TO FIND HER AGAIN AND TELL HER HOW WRONG HE WAS TO LEAVE HIS TWELVE YEAR OLD DAUGHTER ON HER OWN. HE LOVES CELTA AS A FATHER SHOULD, AND HE TRULY HAS A GOLDEN HEART UNDERNEATH IT ALL, BUT HE'S AFRAID TO LET HIS GUARD DOWN AGAIN.[/font] - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - [/b] TEMPLATE BY KEAAA AT CAUTION[/font][/center][/blockquote] |
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Post by Celta Meiru on Oct 11, 2011 0:07:25 GMT -5
Celta was drifting and dreaming of times she had lived in the forest, before she lived in Camelot. She would make herself fires at night to keep Eolas and herself warm as they wandered from place to place, and sometimes kind strangers in the woods took them in for a night or two, but then they would eventually be up and on to the next location. Celta also spent her time in taverns throughout different cities around Camelot and Mercia, yet never stopped close enough to the heart of either, for she would never let herself be recognized.
And so she was severely angry at whoever hit her awake for disturbing such a peaceful and endless sleep. That's when everything rushed back to her...the men, their plot, finding Prince Arthur, the fighting, and then a dizzy unconsciousness followed. There was no pain in her head save for the red mark on her cheek from the hand of the man in her face, so she knew she hadn't been struck by anything to knock her out. It had to be a drug of some sort.
Her eyes were shards of ice as they death glared the men around her and the fire. They had stopped talking amongst themselves for the most part and were either leering or scowling at her in return. The leader had been the one who struck her, but she still showed no fear. She wasn't extremely afraid of this group of men, at least not enough to show it. The young noblewoman lifted her chin up to look him right in the face and blinked a few times,
"Good evening to you, too," she snapped sarcastically before turning silent again, although her mind was still a tad hazy from the drug in her system. His brow raised, yet his eyes narrowed even more as he knelt by her.
"What did you hear?" he asked her straight forwardly. She remained silent as she kept her gaze on him, yet her mind immediately sobered at the thought of Prince Arthur. She was terrified for him and his safety. Where was he? What had they done to him? She needed to see if he was hurt in any way. She would never be able to look him in the eye again if she knew he was injured or worse, and she could've done something to stop it.
A sudden and very hot pain raced through her, and she looked down quickly to see a burn mark on her skin. Tears formed in her eyes, and she couldn't help a short gasp of breath that escaped her lips. The man took the hot iron off her skin and stared her down once more. She barely heard his repeated question from cringing against the pain. He growled and put the iron back down to her arm, burning her and watching her as she bit her lip and stifled a sob.
"I'm not sure what I heard. Please." Celta finally managed to push out a lie after a few more times as her head sank and her eyes closed to shut out the pain of the iron against her skin. The leader grabbed her by the hair and pulled her over to a tree across from Arthur, securing her tight there and then leaving them to go back to the camp to discuss plans. She tried not to cry as her head fell back against the hard bark of the tree.
"Arthur?" she asked weakly when she was sure they were all out of earshot. "Please tell me you can hear me." |
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Jul 4, 2012 12:16:51 GMT -5
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Post by Celta Meiru on Oct 10, 2011 22:31:04 GMT -5
So, she had been rescued, so to speak, by none other than Sir Percival. She had heard tales of him from some of the women in the court about his strength, but the story she had enjoyed hearing the most was how he saved Arthur's life by pushing the large rocks in the way of the immortal army to help him escape with the others in his traveling party. It took a very brave man to risk his life for Arthur, so she was glad that he was rewarded with knighthood.
"Pleasure to meet you, Sir Percival. King Arthur is lucky to have a knight like you close by his side." He offered her his arm, and she hesitated for a moment before smiling and slipping her hand through the crook and taking his proffered lead. She was never truly sure how to be a perfect noblewoman, so she was lucky to have someone who would probably not laugh at her if she made mistakes. Practice makes perfect, as they always say.
"You didn't run my night. You saved it. I am glad to be away from the court. If you haven't noticed, I don't really fit in with the nobles there," she explained with a slight frown as she looked sideways at him. The maidservant pointed her into a guest room, and she nodded, leaving Percival for a few moments while she quickly changed into a plain white dress that might not be fit for a coronation, but it certainly was beautiful nonetheless and perfect for her. She left the room to find Sir Percival waiting for her there, another goblet of wine in his hand, and she couldn't help but laugh.
"Thank you for waiting," she began again slowly and softly, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear as she looked up at the tall but gentle man with a gentle smile of her own. "Please tell me some of that wine is for me." It wasn't very ladylike of her to say that, but she really did need a drink after everything she had been forced to do tonight because of her social status. |
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Post by Celta Meiru on Oct 10, 2011 22:13:57 GMT -5
The door opened in front of her, and she looked up quickly to see a smiling face of a servant. Celta smiled kindly herself and bowed her head, asking if Lady Caitrin was home at the present. The servant nodded and invited her inside, and so Celta stepped into the home, even more nervous than before. The servant told her to wait there so she could be introduced, and she nodded silently, her heart in her throat. She never gave her name because she wanted to surprise Caitrin. She thought that would be best so that Caitrin would believe it more and would...hopefully...be more apt to accept her as a guest there.
She took the time to glance around her at the beautiful home. It suited Caitrin perfectly. It fit her personality to the tee, and she figured she had done her share of making it more suited to her needs and desires so she could be happy here. Celta hoped her old friend was happy. SHe hoped that nothing bad had happened in the years she has been gone.
"My lady? Uhm...excuse me, my lady?" A voice repeated as Celta stopped staring at a painting and turned around to face the female servant who was staring at her. She smiled bashfully and walked after her, swallowing a lump in her throat and entering the solar with a tentative smile upon her face.
"Caitrin," she could only say her name as her smile grew and she looked upon the more mature yet beautiful face of her dear friend. |
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Post by Celta Meiru on Oct 10, 2011 21:43:20 GMT -5
So here she was, sneaking out and laughing at a man chasing a chicken. It was the littlest things that always amused her, and as the man shot her a half irritated, half amused glare, she put her hand back over her mouth and shot him an innocent smile. Well, could he blame her for laughing? If he was in her spot and she was chasing the chicken all around the courtyard, she bet he'd be laughing too. Now, that was an amusing thought...which was broken by a female voice telling her it truly was funny. Celta turned her head towards the voice at that, her smile never fading.
"I knew I wasn't imagining things," she laughed easily as she looked over with a smile. "And the chicken never wins. Not one chicken I've seen run away has won that battle." The woman was pretty, and Celta gave her a quick once-over. She looked a few years older than Celta, with reddish brown hair and a kind smile. The dress she wore was neither elegant nor ugly, and the young noblewoman nodded in appreciation. She liked to se those kinds of dresses, and she disliked most of the dresses she was forced to wear in her nobility. With that thought, she glanced down in distaste for her own gown, which was more formal and less comfortable that that of the new woman's. |
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Post by Celta Meiru on Oct 10, 2011 21:18:13 GMT -5
Yes, let people think it was an accident, what happened to her family. Every cast aside the deaths of her older brother and mother as though nothing was suspicious about it. Even more, the people in Mercia thought she was dead as well, that she had perished in the fire with the other two. No one knew the true story, that she watched as they were brutally murdered in front of her, and how she would've died as well had a handsome stranger saved her life that day. A man she never got to thank or see again, and it saddened her.
What had happened? Was he all right? She hoped so. A man that selfless and brave should not have died for her, and that would not be a happy thought to goad her to keep moving towards the town. After she visited the local tavern for a drink, then she would visit the spot where her family was tragically stolen from her. And with that, she lifted her hood up to cover her face as Eolas trotted through town. People glanced at them but made no noise to the two strangers as they slowed and stopped in front of the tavern. Celta dismounted, securing the reins of her mare onto a pole and patting her with a soft smile before she turned and walked purposefully into the tavern.
It wasn't as loud as the taverns in Camelot, and she took a quick yet sharp glance around at the faces. No one looked familiar from her time in Mercia as a little girl, so she inwardly sighed with relief and pulled the hood of her brown riding dress down to her shoulders, smiling comfortably though the sadness lingered in her eyes. There was no need to fret yet, as the men seemed welcoming enough without being pigs.
"An ale, please," she asked as she walked over to a man who worked there, and he nodded and left to get it for her. And keep them coming...she thought bitterly to herself; however, she needed a clear head while she was in Mercia, for she didn't know what could happen if she let her guard completely down. And so she surveyed the room more casually this time, and her ice blue eyes landed on a handsome yet quiet man in the corner of the room. He was drinking an ale and had looked at her, but she glanced away as her ale arrived at the table she had been standing by.
Paying the man, she watched him walk away and then silently took a long sip of her ale. She sighed calmly, feeling it go down and enjoying the moment of peace it brought her. And she soon found herself looking over at the stranger in the corner once more. Who was he? |
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