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Post by Alistair on Feb 6, 2012 3:10:46 GMT -5
It was over due; but that did not tell him why. What had inspired the Pendragon to amend the wrongs of his father now? "Because what has been done to the druids, is injustice." Something that Alistair had claimed for years; and no one had given a damn; yet he could not bring himself to point out his years of fighting; bleeding; and dying when the king was freeing his people. He could only sit there and try to let everything absorb into him.
"I want Camelot to be a kingdom of peace." Saying it meant one thing; but proving it was another; and it seemed the Pendragon was willing to prove it with more then just his words but his actions. "And the druids have been nothing but a peaceful people," Most of them. Alistair knew a few of them had not been so; his own name foremost on that list.
He did not know words well; but there were some he did know. "No one has ever done something of such before; and it shows what sort of king you will be." He told him; looking over at him. "I was born in Camelot; but I have never claimed to be of this kingdom." And now his lies would keep him from doing such; "If your words prove with time to be true; and you do as you say now . . . "
"Then you will be the first man that I would respect as a king." The only one.
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Post by Alistair on Feb 4, 2012 21:46:48 GMT -5
The king wasn't really explaining anything; but his words were expressing his earlier ones better. "But I give you my word, that from now on, the druids are safe in Camelot. They will no longer be hunted. They will not be condemned. They can live freely and in peace throughout the kingdom." Closing his eyes for a moment; Alistair reached his hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose; trying to think. It was odd to feel the slight moister there. He could hear his uncle's harsh words in his head; trying to torment the weak emotions from the young child he had been. After spreading more then half his life hiding everything; he did not know how to express a single emotion in this moment.
Inhaling deeply; he pinched his nosed slightly harder; hoping the pain would make it easier to single out one thought or feeling in his head and deal with even just one of them. When he could drop his hand; and open his eyes he looked at the king again. "Why?" Knowing his words were informal; and blunt; but he could not help it. His mind would not work enough to ask the many questions he needed too.
His daughter was safer here then in her own kingdom. Gwent was still ruled by the king's laws; and Druids were outlawed at birth. While not hunted; if found they were magic users in a kingdom that treated magic like the plague. He had to lie about his bloodlines in order to keep everyone safe. They used magic to keep their child from having his visions; and he knew that if anyone recognized what the child worn then they'd be exposed.
Now this young king was freeing his people. Why? What made his so far from his father? How did a man of hate raise one to free what he hated so much?
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Post by Alistair on Feb 4, 2012 21:44:38 GMT -5
The little king was talking about papers and announcements; and Alistair found himself wanting to hit the man. Why was he here? Their was no common ground between them; and anything the king decided normally only annoyed the bloody hell out of him. Finally the little king spoke again; and reviled what he wanted. Had Alistair been a less controlled man; the king would have been hit. Yet his words removed all annoyance from him.
"From this day forward, the druid people will be liberated from persecution, and given all the rights and freedoms that they deserve."
Bloody f%#cking hell; the king was freeing his people?! Alistair felt as if the stones that were under his feet; and the very chair that held his weight were gone. There was a spinning in his head that he wasn't sure was an actual feeling or if it was just the king's words playing over and over.
Alistair had made Gwent his home; put his faith in his princess and prayed on every star that ever touched the darkness of the night sky that she would be able to do more then he could. Never in all his years would he have thought that a Pendragon would be the one to right the wrongs; and give his people a chance.
Turning so he was firmly in his chair; Alistair bent forward slightly; and stared down at his large hands. He could almost see the blood and grim and dirt on them from the years of fighting for his people. He could hear their pleas; and his chest throbbed where he had been shot by an Pendragon arrow!
He swallowed; though his mouth was dry from the too many thoughts and feelings that were pounding in his head and chest. Finally managing to look back up at the Pendragon King; Alistair began to think. He tried to speak a few times; though his mouth only moved with no sound. "Explain." He demanded; though it came out sounding almost pained. Inside he was no hurting; but feeling the weight of the fear from his people being lifted.
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Post by Alistair on Feb 4, 2012 21:42:57 GMT -5
Not name him Alistair; that might be a good thing. Alistair was not even sure how he received his own name. He never knew his mother long enough to ask these questions; of what his name meaning might hold. If their had been a man in her own; or his father's life that might have inspired the name. he knew that it must be; for names like his own were not common within the Druids. "A name should hold meaning."
It should give a presence; as it would be the first thing they could give their child to shape who they wanted them to be. This child could be raised with out the hate of her world; and the fear of his. This child could be taught the best of her world; and wonder of his own. This gift; this was the best thing she'd ever gifted him with; and in a few hours or even less he would be holding his child. His blood. His family. "What names hold meaning to you?" People who touched her life. "Your mother's name?" For a girl; is she was so inclined. A friend perhaps?
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Post by Alistair on Feb 4, 2012 21:40:20 GMT -5
Alistair looked at the little king as he toasted to peace; as well as lunch. The gestured for Alistair to pick what he wished to eat first; he still felt uneasy but he reached for his food of choice first; and put it on his plate. He did note; however; which parts the king took bits from and from where his own were from. If they were not from the same parts; he would not bit them.
The king was now asking about his family; and it left[ him feeling guarded. On edge; and he did not like it. "Why am I here?" Alistair got to the point; rather then try to drag it out. He wanted to know; and he did not wish to speak of his family; and of lunch. These men were not friends; and even while they had at times tried; they had found they could not be. A Pendragon and Druid would never be friends.
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Post by Alistair on Feb 1, 2012 0:00:52 GMT -5
Bedding down to camp; Alistair made his fire and put the deer that he'd caught over it. It was allow of meat for one man; but he could tell others were camping near by. If he left after only a few hours then when they found this place they could have at what he did not want to fill his own belly with. He hated the waste that it would have brought without it; but knew that if the men did not eat it; then something else would.
These woods were filled with more dangers then a knight; though the knights were the dangerous sort. They killed with out reason and thought at the whim of some king that half of them would not even have meet! No; the dangers in this wood came from the other creatures. Some of them magical based; and some of them summoned by magic and let loose to roam when their masters where killed or lost control. It was why he did not fear a knight this deep into the woods; none were as stupid to come this deep. Alistair knew how to avoid them; and when they came too close some did not even notice him for he was too still and silent.
His mind was not on the creatures but the woman. The princess. It had not been but a half moon cycle since he'd returned her to her own people. Yet still she plagued him. Her face; her voice; her bloody annoy tendency to not do a damn thing he wanted and his own annoy habit of enjoying it.
Footsteps drew his mind from it's self and his eyes turned tot he sound; knowing it was a man for they were heavy and came in twos rather then fours of an animal.
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Post by Alistair on Jan 31, 2012 23:49:36 GMT -5
"Don't smile," That only made him grin; "This is your doing, you should be apologizing. Not smirking like an idiot." Soon he would be a father; and hold a child of their bloodlines bound to one son or daughter. Soon; as in hours; or less if things went well. Alistair felt strangely nervous and pleased at the same time. The knowledge that soon he would hold his child in his hands was daunting but enough to keep the grin on his lips eve while his wife talked enough for the three of them now.
"Faster would be better." Yes; it would for he did not like knowing she was in pain and hurting. He wanted her happy and holding their child sooner rather then on the morrow. He hushed her softly; "I would take this unto myself if the stars allowed it; but I cannot. Soon this will be but a memory." Even if he had to use magic to make it so. "Tell me instead what you wish name your son or daughter." They had spoken of names; but this would give her something beside his grin to speak to him of.
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Post by Alistair on Jan 19, 2012 13:40:06 GMT -5
"You're no thatcher." No; but he would be whatever she needed him to be. And what she needed; often was the same thing as what her kingdom needed; so today he fixed the roofs in order to help get the town back to it's normal daily adventures. He'd thought it amusing that he'd managed to say the right thing before the right young knight that made more help out; he was getting the hang of this talking to get what you wanted bit. Though it almost backfired when he was asked how he'd known how to do this. He had gone back to ignoring them then.
"What happened to doing as I as-" He noticed her pain and how it filled her. This was however one thing he could not protect her from; not matter how he wanted too. He could only sit beside her and let her do what she needed to do to help her. "I'm going to kill you," That only made him smile; and watch her. She was pushing her her back; and Alistair let her go to reach up and do it for her.
"Shut up," Still slightly grinning; he moved his hands back down to encourage her to hold them if he needed to squeeze them. He thought it amusing that the girl who tried to get him to talk more now told him to close his mouth. "Isadora," He called to her in a soft voice so that it was soothing; something he'd learned was helpful with horses while he was with the druids; though he would never tell her that he was using the same tricks with her. The Druid elder had said it worked with high spirited horses; and his princess was high spirited. "In a few hours you will be holding a babe in your arms." His son or daughter. His blood mixed in with her's.
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Post by Alistair on Jan 10, 2012 20:13:47 GMT -5
"Why were you on a roof?" He had been repairing it from the recent damages; and getting the lazy nobles working to aid the people who could not afford to pay for the work that needs to be done. "It needed attention." Was all he said on that matter; for there were more important things happening here then some roof that he did some work on.
"I want the pillow back, unless you want to give me something heavier to hit you with." If she was going to use it to hit him with it; then she her hands could be filled with something more useful. "I think your words are heavy enough." He told her; reaching out to take her hands so they were filled with his own. "If you feel the need for violence then you can use them to hold fast to my own." Squeeze them to her heart's content if it made her feel better.
"What happened this morning?" How long had she been like this? He though it took days; but he also admitted he knew nothing but the occasional horror story that he had not ran away from fast enough when around a campfire on a trail. Women seemed to brag about the baby's size and how long it took. Alistair rather hoped that days was an exaggeration.
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Post by Alistair on Jan 10, 2012 19:52:00 GMT -5
Alistair wasn't hard to read if you knew well what you were looking for. Most however; did not bother looking below the surface. When he was angry; he grew still and did not move. When he was troubled; he was restless in his actions. When he was pleased; he was more relaxed and the guard that he kept up dropped slightly--an event that had only happened easily around one person so far in the last many years of his life.
"Your world and her world are not the same but they have the same rules. Speak at this time; lie in your every word and motion. Display 'manners' before passion." Stupid rules that he disagreed with. Ones that were mean to choke the life out of man. "You can show em your rules; to learn her rules." How to speak easier; when to speak how to do things so bloody simple they should not have a rule behind them to tell a man how he ought to do them!
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Post by Alistair on Jan 10, 2012 19:30:03 GMT -5
When she touched his face; Alistair's hand came up to wrap around her small wrist and hold her back. He was unusded to touching; and even less use to the soft sort of touches that women gave men the liked. Though Maeve's touched left no aroused feelings; he still doubted that she would touch every lost soul she found. What sort of woman was that open to risk of getting caught and used the wrong way.
Slowly he let her wrist go so he did not injure her; and lowered his hand. He would not speak on why he'd done it; but if she continued he would not stop her. With Maeve it was oddly comforting in a way. He felt protective of her; grateful for her help; and there was something else. He wasn't sure what it was; but her kindness made him not want to be as distant with her. Which annoyed him; but he didn't want to show it. Which only annoyed him more.
"I can not read. Not in my language and not in the English." He's never been taught; and when he was of age to know he should learn then he never wanted to admit to anyone of a weakness. Vaughn had picked up on it; and taught him a few words for the purpose of being able to get word to each other while working jobs. Not enough he could write; but enough that when he saw it; he knew what he saw. "I thought I heard your friend speak another language. What tongue was that?"
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Post by Alistair on Jan 3, 2012 23:31:48 GMT -5
"Alistair," She looked clam; which he supposed was good. He'd heard of women having fits of rage; and of others who would threaten their husbands manly parts; and even some who had dared swear their husbands would never touch them again. Knights talked too damn much but in this one case; he had taken their words. They'd gone to visit their wives; heard their fits; and left them to women's work. Cowardly bastards. Hiding from a few little fits.
"You're late," He took the pillow and dropped it at his feet; removing her weapon of choice from her reach. "I was on a roof." He used as his only explanation; not caring to explain more; for he had other things that demanded his attention today. After she barked at the maids hoovering at her ankles; he reached his hand up to move any strands back from her face; allowing him to lean forward and kiss her forehead before moving back and speaking in an overly clam tone. One he doubted would last. "Leave the women alone; and tell me what you need. I will give you anything you ask of me on this day."
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Post by Alistair on Dec 23, 2011 15:29:24 GMT -5
Sire! Alistair was ignoring the sounds, until he remembered that; that was his 'name' now. Turning to look down at the worker; he waited for them to spill their message. He did not grow concerned; why should he? Workers like this one always thought whatever their message was; was the most important one they would ever deliver to him. It got annoying on the best of days. Finally they managed to spill their message.
Standing on the beams that held the house together from the room; Alistair just stared down for a moment before turning to climb down. Seeming to forget in his state that he was only balancing there, he ended up falling though the top. Lucky; for him that the flooring below it, meant to keep more of the rain out; caught him; making him only all a few feet.
Alistair got out of the building; down the street of markets --outrunning the worker-- and toot he castle in record time. He kept running up the damn steps; and down the damn halls the whole way there. By the time he burst though her door; slightly stumbling in his hast; he was out of breath slightly. Noble men might not want to be in the room when their child was born; but the old grumpy noble women and their middle wife; or whatever the hell she was called; was not sending him out. The hell they would. Walking over to the bed; he sat down on the edge; facing her and not the workings from below her waist. "Isadora," Using her name because he knew she liked it.
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Post by Alistair on Dec 23, 2011 15:28:40 GMT -5
"Sir Garrett is the Knight-Commander, and the King's Champion." So he was an over achieving little bastard who ratted out his every move. Alistair decided then and there that he did not like the man on principal alone. He was a knight, he reported to people about him, and now she was listing off reasons why she was bloody well damned impressed by him.
"I'll show you the way." It annoyed him; and angered him greatly that he could not even find his own way around his 'own' home apparently. There was no air in here! He felt suffocating. How the hell did they even know which way they were going in this place?! "Make it quick. Time is short." Alistair told her; just trying to annoy her now; rather then actually making a point. Time might be short; but even he knew that he was being rude.
"Lead the way; Princess." He used her title as a name rather then using her name. Is that not what nobles did? Took away a name?
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Post by Alistair on Dec 20, 2011 2:30:44 GMT -5
Alistair did not look like a knight; which was just as well because at heart he was not a knight. Today he almost looked like his old self; in nothing but pants; and a shirt on. Yet his old self would not have been up on roof helping repair some of the damage done to a many of the local homes and businesses. Many were helping this day. A few knights had followed his example and climbed up in order to impress the ladies who came with baskets of food. Noble men offered coin; and then went about their way.
It didn't matter to him; for this was one of the first things that he'd done since arriving here; that felt like he was doing something rather then playing pretend. He was actually doing something that had a purpose. And--if he let a bit of his new and growing self confidence (or ego) speak; he had encouraged the others to take part. Leaning over the edge of the local inn; Alistair gave a sharp whistle sot he young knight would trow up another bundle of the straw used in the roofing. As he did; the ladies there giggled and told the young knight how strong he was. Alistair rolled his eyes; but let them play their stupid games. The work was getting done and that was all he cared about; let them pick their own reasons for helping.
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Post by Alistair on Dec 20, 2011 1:58:47 GMT -5
"What do you think would happen if you died?" That's she show some bloody loyalty! Or at least made it sound a bit harder to do! "Maybe you should think about that next time before you rush off to get yourself killed." He wanted to shake her! He didn't even care that she was crying!
Maybe he cared; that she was crying; but he was damn well if he'd coddle her while she was using words like he used his daggers! "You wish me to think before I act, Princess?" He used her title rather then her name; because she was damn well acting like a high princess right now. "Every moment; every action; every bloody breath I have done centered around you since the day I first took you out of this damn fortress."
In either protection of her; or her name; or because she'd asked it; or because she needed him to be what he'd fucking become! "Had I not done what I have done tonight; you'd be alone in Camelot outed as the Druid's whore and caring his bastard." He doubted that the Pendraon heir would be able to just over look the actions. He'd have to do something and her rules would demand it. The ones she's asked him to live by!
If she was so damn mad at him; then he would leave her to her anger tonight. He wanted no more of her words. Turning he walked toward to the door; planning to find the bed offered to him and attempt to sleep past the pain in his body and now the pain in his head.
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Post by Alistair on Dec 20, 2011 1:18:48 GMT -5
"If you die I'm marrying a nobleman and letting him raise your son." She walked away then; and that might have been the only thing that kept his hand from going around her neck. Many things could be said to him in anger; and he'd ignore or react too with less hostility then that. It was his weakness; and she damn well knew it. After his family had died within ear shot of him; he'd wanted nothing more. She would through this at him now?
It took him a few moments for his head to stop spinning and for him to realize that she'd come back and was demanding something. He didn't care how bad his body ached in that moment. Reaching over he took her upper arm and pushed her back; not enough to make her fall; but to get her away from him before he did something that would harm her. Pushing to a stand; Alistair didn't even look at her. His hands were shaking in the anger that her words had summoned.
The hell she would! The bloody hell he'd let her! He didn't care if he was dead in her words; he only heard her threaten to give his child another father! Not knowing what to say; for words never came smoothly for him; Alistair started walking away from her. Slowly; for it hurt like hell; but away from her non the less.
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Post by Alistair on Dec 20, 2011 0:30:41 GMT -5
"A few nights ago, you came to bed with a bruised jaw." Did he now? Alistair resisted the urge to reach up and see if it was still tender. Yet the idea of her under him in a bed made him forget everything but the urge it inspired. "Sir Garrett told me you got into a fight with someone in town, a drifter." Alistair made a mental note it hit the man later.
He wasn't sure who the hell this over achieving knight was; but he didn't like that the man reported his supportive actions to her; nor that he spoke to her. The former was understandable in his mind; on why he would not like it. He was a bit concerned about his displeasure over the later. "Maybe he took it, when you were fighting?" She asked him; but he didn't remember; so he couldn't answer.
"Where do I find this Garrett?" So he could get an answer from him. It was then the babe made a sound and he looked over toward her. Pausing in his pacing and just stareing for a moment.
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Post by Alistair on Dec 19, 2011 23:49:13 GMT -5
"He was no one that you need worry over; any longer." He was not going to let her take him to some damned sawbones who would start trying to heal him with leeches rather then just let him sleep the damn pain off. "No physician," He hold her; not about to move from this chair. Opening his eyes; Alistair noticed that she was crying. Bloody hell; the woman was going to kill him faster then Asher.
Deciding to comprise he gave in a little; "Light some candles, bring them closer. You can do it." What she planned to do; he didn't know; but he rather her hands on him then someone else. She'd asked twice now about Asher but he wasn't sure the words were one he wanted her to hear. Perhaps while she helped clean off some of the ash and blood; he would try to explain that his past wasn't one like she had known. He'd met her and was gentle; bitter but not violent. Asher and Vaughn were more proof of his history.
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Post by Alistair on Dec 16, 2011 13:34:34 GMT -5
Alistair did not pause in his pacing as she spoke in that voice he was coming to know; or if her story was true--one he already knew. It was cultured and unbending; yet there was something soft in it. Something that made him enjoy the dirtier thoughts of make it sound other ways. Apparently he was missing jewelry. Bloody hell he wore jewelry? All the time?! Or apparently enough for her to wonder why it was missing and think it was related to her memory.
He didn't stop his pacing; but spoke in reply. Alistair didn't need to look to see if he was wearing anything or not. He would know; for he would feel the weight. "How does one break it?" He asked; getting to the point. Did he have to get this item back? That was at least something that would give him something to do; and not leave him standing here waiting for something to happen. At least magic was something he could handle; for it was only as damaging at the person behind it. He would simply find out why this was happening; and seek out the bastard behind it; and kill him.
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