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Post by Alistair on Aug 5, 2010 22:00:49 GMT -5
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He was not going to apologize for being a man of his word. He had told her what would happen if she ran, she ran and he had keep his word. NOR was he going to tell her he was not apologizing. He was no an idiot were women were concerned, he knew women did not like it when you pointed such things out to them.
So instead he reached out gently and touched her purple wrist. His eyes looked into her, and hoped he looked honest. "Isadora," He used her name for the first time, "Would you let me show you something? Something magical? If I swear to you, on my mother's grave, that there is no evil involved?"
He sat there watching her, wondering how she would answer. His plan had been to ask Mae to find a way to show her the childish, fun side of magic. Mae was not strong or powerful but she could enchant a few spells to make shadows move on their own. Her father however, could do slightly more. If she trusted him here, then maybe he could help change her mind about magic? Make Gwent a safer place for Druids.
She had been right, about some magic being evil but most Druids were not evil. One out of ten might be. Most where families, and people like these. People who only turned to hurting people when they had to in order to protect their families. A last resort.
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Post by Alistair on Aug 5, 2010 20:50:30 GMT -5
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His uncle had been a hard, unfeeling brute of a man. The type who would not have approved over this. Grown men to not tickle others; he would have said disgusted with Alistair's actions. He had been ten years old when his uncle had taken him out the backdoor while the knights dragged his mother out the front door. The only thing keeping him from being the cold uncaring man his uncle was, and had tired to make him into was the memories of his parents, and moments like these. Were things, just seemed to not matter.
He didn't stop until she cried out his name. Ever since he had seen her, there in the castle she had not been as he expected. She had fought with him, tested his temper, tried to out smart him, and now in the most unexpected turn of events she was laughing with him.
Had she'd not been his hostage, he'd had tried to kiss her again. He thought about it for a moment, as she wiggled under him and he tormented her. He wondered what she would do, if he really kissed her. Last time he made meant to punish her, teach her a lesson. However, he didn't feel like angering her just yet. . . . . and nor did he want to doge another right hook.
He sat back on his knees as he looked down at her with a easy smile. "Really now, Princess--" He said her title this time, not as her name but in the same tone one might use an casual endearment; and while he spoke to her he reached over to where he had been sitting and picked up the grass he had been braiding, which was now in a ring like a bracelet. "--had I know you held violent tenancies I would have make sure to keep the shield." He held the bracelet out; it might be a bit small for her as he had meant to give it to Mae as a bribe for helping him but he could make another. His uncle would be very displeased with him in this moment.
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Post by Alistair on Aug 5, 2010 19:07:27 GMT -5
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And stop grinning! Which of course, only made him chuckle. He was rather enjoying her outburst, and knowing he was getting to her in a way. She looked to adult, and womanly to be called a child but when she yelled at time he thought it was rather princess-like. Almost child like, temper fits. He was willing to bet that if she ever had him in her dungeons, she'd do more then order his head cut off. Hell, she might even do it her self.
Alistair could see the future, but he did not see this one coming. -SMACK-
One moment, he was laughing at her, then next a wet something smacked him in his face and soaked him everywhere it touched. The soap on it was enough to burn his eyes slightly. Pulling it off rather quickly he looked at her in shock. He had not thought she'd risk days bound and gagged, for one moment's stupefaction. There she sat, seeming to think she was the funny one now. He silently stared at her for a moment, before the surprise turned into something else . . and the grin returned. "You want to play, Princess?" He asked using her title as her name, rather in an insult; before moving into action.
With any good battle plan, the object was surprise and speed (and if you could do it, numbers but he only had two out of three). When going up ageist a woman this unpredictable you needed a hell of a good battle plan. He dove for her bring them both to the ground, and covered her torso with whatever it was she had hit him with. He was briskly rubbing her down with it, so it soaked her in return. It took him a moment to realize, he was still laughing at her.
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Post by Alistair on Aug 5, 2010 18:09:19 GMT -5
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His mind came back to the now when she started yelling at him. He stared at her for a short moment, a grin his his rugged face as if he thought her merely amusing. She was a fire ball of trouble this one. He knew he should at the very lest threaten to gag her for speaking to him as such but he didn't have the heart.
Maybe he was getting to her after all? He should use this break down her ice cold calm, that annoyed the hell out of him. Prove to them both she was only human. Just as emotional as everyone here.
Instead he took a few steps closer to her, and sat down, leaning against one of the trees that held the rope to hang the wet clothing on to dry. It was not often people told him to shut up, as most tired to get him to talk more. So, there he sat, silently laughing at her, seeming to follow her orders for once.
He began to pick some of the tall blades of grass and start braiding them together, and tieing them in places. He keep a close watch on her from where he sat mere feet away, but he would let her word in silence if she wanted. Poor little princess, all torn and tattered. If only Papa could see her now. What would the king think of his daughter, washing a man's under clothing? What her mother say of her time with the lower class men?
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Post by Alistair on Aug 5, 2010 11:36:55 GMT -5
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What did he want her to do? Kick. Scream. Be a princess about this and not this person he was seeing. Not once had she complained (not that it had done any good), and not once had she crowded and cried. Weren't princesses supposed to be there spoiled, pampered, and so silly things like faint at the sight of dirt? Not carry buckets of water a half mile with no bitching types?
Alistair watches her for a long, silent moment when she asked that while thinking. Finally he spoke, "Put the dirty clothing in the water and scrub til it's clean. Then hang them on the ropes to dry." It was harder then it sounded and there was allot to wash." He glanced over to where Mae was playing tag or some chasing game and wondered when he could speak to her. He knew he needed her help but was not sure how to ask for it.
While he let her work, he stood over a few feet from her, arms crosses over his chest and watching her. "It is a hard life." he agreed softly to what she had said earlier, his voice seeming deeper and distance as if he was more thinking out loud rather then to her. "You spend everyday working just to live and hope one day a king does does send his men to kill you or you family simply because you were born what you are. These people . . . They would be safer out of Camelot. Yet they stay. They call it home." He did not understand why they stayed, but he was going to help make them and other druids safe, so they could stay.
[PAGE FIVE!!] |
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Post by Alistair on Aug 4, 2010 17:48:18 GMT -5
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When she walked pasted him, he grinned again at her comment. Most people were more normal then him. Years of being alone had really hurt his people skills but he didn't care. He might not be used to being around people but he never felt uncomfortable alone. Some people craved others, Alistair felt at ease with others but more without others. There were a few people he wanted around more then others. None of them women.
He followed her as she walked and did not say a word as she took a break ever few feet, or yards. He had known this would take four times longer then the walk there. Still he was not used to traveling this slow or not having anything do. He thought about just doing it for her, as it slightly bothered him to watch a woman struggle when he could help her, but knew it would teach her nothing.
So he did his best not to appear like he was hurrying her and just walked along beside her until they reached camp. Once there, he finally took the bucket from her. "Time to do the wash." He told her as she carried the bucket the last few feet to where the clothes would be washed. After sitting the bucket down he used his hands to take a cool drink before looking up at her. "You can rest a moment first."
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Post by Alistair on Aug 4, 2010 2:13:15 GMT -5
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He did not say a word to her. He just stood up after fixing the bucket for her and watched her. He knew she'd understand what he was waiting for and it wasn't a thank you. He wanted her to work. Carry the bucket back to camp and began washing the clothes and things before they had to make this trip two more times today. He folded his arms over his chest and waited for her to come get the bucket.
He wondered if she had at lest thought about refusing to do it. He knew he could not force her to carry the bucket, but he could toss her over his shoulder, carry her back and leave her hog tired for a few days. Besides, with the insights he learned today about her, new ideas were forming. Ones that he hoped would protect Mae (as well as other druids) int he future.
If she made him be mean to her, then his plans would fail. He knew Mae would have to play a part in his plan but how to make her do it with out giving her details or alarming the little girl's father. Mae was a druid, and could use magic with spells unlike Alistair who needed no spells but had no control over what he saw. Mae would be the key, with her wide eyes and innocence. "We will stop when you need to, to rest your arms but don't make it to often. Other chores are waiting, Princess;" He told her.
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Post by Alistair on Aug 4, 2010 1:18:46 GMT -5
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Don't you need to go get kidnapped my some random druid? No? I am sure I can find one to kidnap you, Princess. Just wait right here and keep thinking bunny thoughts.
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Post by Alistair on Aug 4, 2010 1:03:19 GMT -5
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Wow. I did not think anyone else read that thread. I just knew I was having a hell of allot of fun. That is awesome. friggin' awesome. . . . . . . . . *Makes note to glare at Isadora for starting this bunny thing that is ruining his man reputation*
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Post by Alistair on Aug 4, 2010 0:56:34 GMT -5
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Dude! I missed this! Awesome!!
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Post by Alistair on Aug 4, 2010 0:33:09 GMT -5
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When the hell had he gotten on Camelot's land? Alistair had not jumped when the arrow hit the ground. It did not mean he had not wanted to, natural instinct was hard to fight, and it was natural to want to jump back at something you know would hurt you.
Alistair wanted to be rude and annoying but he knew he was out numbed and he wasn't an idiot. He had thought about calming to be the king and demanding they all get the hell out of here, or even sliding an inch to the left and asking if he was still on Camelot's land.
Picking up the arrow and pulling it roughly out of the ground, he used it to poke the rabbit. "I apologize, Ranger. I was unaware I was on the king's lands, nor that it was off limits." He spoke, "My rabbit is almost done and then I will be on my way." Alistair had the feeling he was missing something. This man was not who he had felt in the woods. Years of being on the trail, hunting and tracking and fighting had taught him the difference between his mind knowing he was not alone, and the druid side of him giving him a warning.
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Post by Alistair on Aug 4, 2010 0:17:50 GMT -5
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Thank the stars she was silent, he thought as they walked to the river. Once there, he gave the banks a once over, to make sure there was not danger to them before dipping the bucket into the water. Once it was full he sat it down on the bank and then he began to smile. This would disturb the pretty princess.
She might have hit a soft spot with him, with his mother but he wasn't going to let her off the hook. Pulling his dagger from his boot, he turned to her. "Don't scream." He warned her, before coming up next to her and grabbing some of her skirt. He knew she'd fight fight, and would be shocked to hie toes if she didn't. Still, he was quick. He put off a inch of fabric from part of the bottom of her dress. Enough that she could stay covered but also giving him what he wanted.
Backing away, before she could try to hit him again, he walked over to the bucket. Wrapping the soft fabric around the thick and rough rope of the bucket he made it were she could carry it, with out the rope giving her a burn. Her arms would be aching, but oh well. Her soft skin would be protected. He still wasn't sure why he cared . . . ..
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Post by Alistair on Aug 4, 2010 0:08:04 GMT -5
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Why had he come back? Alistair still wasn't very sure. He had plans, yes but until he got the lay of the land he wasn't sure what plans he would use and what plans he would not. Right now, he only knew that he was back to see what damage the brutus king was doing, and how he could help his mother's people. his people. "To see what was left if it." He told the boy.
He knew he had offended the boy by asking the question of his but Alistair could care less. He had meant it to annoy him. "Well then, I should apologize." He told him with humor in his voice the way some men might humor a child who had gotten offended over being call six when they were six and a half. "You have a name to go with all your years?" He almost added on the boy to the end of the question but thought he would not overly insult the boy. No reason to make enimeys, yet.
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Post by Alistair on Aug 4, 2010 0:01:33 GMT -5
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Alistair had built camp. It was nothing fancy, just a simple fire and some meat on it. He never needed a tent, as he was used to sleeping out in the open. He had a bed roll, but it was not out right now. Over the fire cooked a small rabbit. He did not hunt bigger game, since the meat did not store well, and it was heavy as hell to carry around.
He felt more then heard or saw that he was not alone. Alistair did not like to give him self away, he liked people to under estimate him rather then over estimate him. It gave him the advantage in a fight. If they thought him weaker, slower or just worse then he was, then when he proved them wrong it was with him winning.
Alistair was on his way to meet an old friend of his, Vaughn, but had not planned on meeting him this early. So he stayed by the fire, eyes open, and his body on alert. Waiting.
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Post by Alistair on Aug 3, 2010 18:59:23 GMT -5
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When she spoke of being sorry about his mother he stared at her a moment before shaking his head slowly. Not at her however, at him self. He was an idiot here, because with a few soft words and an apoplectic look his anger was almost gone. He still thought her a petty princess but he believed her. When she questioned his comments on not be able to control the magic he just stood there for a moment looking at her pretty face.
After a moment he took a slow step forward and slowly took the bucket from her, and called him self an idiot for it. Ugh! He then turned to keep walking to the river, but keep and ear on her steps to make sure she keep up with him and not bolted the other way. "Princess," he spoke in a calmer tone and even used her title in a tone that did not suggest and insult because--ugh--she had shown kindness to the druid man that was bullying her. "My mother was like me, I got my gifts from her. She did not ask for it anymore then I."
"She would see things in her dreams. Things that had not happened yet. If a neighbor was going to get sick and die--she knew. If the king was going to start a war and hunt druids down--she knew. When she warned others this would happen, they came for her. Killed her. I see the same death dreams. Every night I see someone die." He left off the fact that they did not away die, at times he did save then or help them save themselves. He also did not tell her that he was dreaming of her. He paused walking and looked back at her, "If this is from a deal with the devil, I hate to see what the son of a bitch got in return." With that he turned and keep walking.
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Post by Alistair on Aug 3, 2010 11:48:17 GMT -5
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Have you ever loved something so much that you would do anything to keep it safe? No matter how monstrous those things might be? Here it came, some sodding story about her rich life and how horrid it was. Alistair waited for it but the one that came was different then explicated. Almost rational. He had expected a short answer along the lines of Because They Are Evil, with not reasoning or caring behind it. He could have dealt with her princess views of the world . . . this one was unexpected.
Still it annoyed him, and as he was already angry his words came out bitter and harsh. "Your people live in fear?" He asked slowly, "YOUR people live in fear? Princess, do you want to know my last memory of my mother?" He stopped walking and turned to look at her. "It was her being dragged from our by the king's men to be executed." His eyes bore into her's as he spoke, "Her screams of the last thing I heard of her, and my father who was unable it sit by and watch his wife murdered, tried to help her. He died with her that day, almost 20 years ago. They were not evil, Princess. We are farmers, lived in a peaceful druid town. But because -ALL- magic had to erased she was to be killed."
It was the most he had said in a long time, "YOUR people live in fear, Pprriinncceessss?" he drug out the insult of her title. "Mae's last memory of her mother, could be along the same lines, and if you had your way it could be how little Mae's last moments on this earth is spent. Mae is not evil. These people are NOT evil. Because a few druids misuse the gifts they are given we should all be hunted and killed?"
"You said if Mae turned her back on who she was, she could be spared. What if she could not, Princess? Some of us, can not control it. Magic is apart of us. Controls us even. What of them?" Of him. "Should we be slaughtered like animals so your people can sleep a little better?"
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Post by Alistair on Aug 3, 2010 1:19:05 GMT -5
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The walk did him some good, as it helped him think clearer. His guard was up on high but the more the thought about it the more he knew the attack on her would not come this way. The visions were not clear, which meant there was time between them. Even still he wasn't going to leave her unprotected.
He did not care if the the tasks where to hard for her in her royal dress, he hoped it ruined it. With any luck tonight she'd be to tired to try to escape, and if he did get some sleep he would not have to worry about her attempting things. He thought about offering to get her some clothing better suited to her work but decided ageist it. She was the noble princess, let her dress the part.
He did not really wish to hold a conversation with her but he had to wonder, "Why do you hate my people so much, Princess?" He asked her, wondering what druids ever did to Gwent to bring on this reaction. He thought of Mae and wondered if the princess was evil enough to kill her or if she had just been saying that.
He had been to angry before, to think about truth and lie. Now that he could, he wondered if she had been lashing out. He hoped he never found out. He had only known the child a few days but she had way of making you fond of her, as all children did. Whatever noble ordered her death, would have him to deal with.
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Post by Alistair on Aug 2, 2010 0:44:28 GMT -5
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Alistair wanted to shake her. She was being so calm, and that was something he normally was; but hearing her so calmly say she might kill poor little Mae was enough to make him wish violence on her. Still, he was not so evil that he'd hurt a woman. "Don't worry, I will show you the way." He was not about to let her go to the river alone. To easy for her to escape.
He debated on if he even owed her an reply about why he did not use her name. It wasn't just as an insult, even it had started off as one. He did not want to humanize her. Grow an attachment. Become soft around her. If he did then she would either get away or he would get her killed. He need to stay sharp and focused.
Insulting her, and annoying her were just rather large bonuses. He did not answer her name question, and just waited for her to get up so he could lead her to the river. He was willing to bet he did not need to explain what would happen if she tired to run. He knew she knew already, and wasn't going to repeat him self. He just silently walked beside her, or slightly ahead of her all the way to the river. He didn't just do it to annoy her, he was all to aware that water had been in his dream. Like the sounds of the river. He had to be on his guard, in case the men came . . .
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Aug 1, 2010 23:29:46 GMT -5
Post by Alistair on Aug 1, 2010 23:29:46 GMT -5
Young Buck; (noun) Someone to young to know the real ways of the world; Used in a sentence: Arthur was still just a young buck next to Alistair's greatness. |
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Aug 1, 2010 23:22:05 GMT -5
Post by Alistair on Aug 1, 2010 23:22:05 GMT -5
Womanizer, something you would know to much about. Shall I name them? Sofia, Vivanne, Morgana, Gwen, Isadora, and more and more and more . . . . |
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