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Post by Alistair on Nov 7, 2011 22:43:51 GMT -5
"It would be very difficult. You're not an easy man to kill, even if you didn't have a castle full of knights, soldiers and guards willing to die to protect you." He had what? "They'd need a lot of men, and there would be a lot of bloodshed. Even if they have all that, it would be easier to kill Sabina and I if you were gone first."
Alistair's shoulders drew back very subtly, and he looked at the babe in her arms taking the words she had just dared to speak. He didn't know if she was aware of what she had spoken but she'd done it. Said the few words that was guaranteed to get his full and complete attention. His first family having being killed; and taken from him because of magic and she thought that someone could be using it against them now to make dispatching them easier. He'd always made sure he was strong enough to fight back should the day come when someone tried to attack a family when he was near. Few things could have impacted his calm as much as her words had in that moment.
He looked from the child to attempt to decide where he would keep weapons in a house of stone. Had he been in the woods he'd had kept them on him person; or by his side. Close. Here he seemed comfortable to get stupid. "Daggers?" He knew enough about magic to know how some spells worked; but never practiced it. He lacked the passion for using it; and rather just let it work naturally by controlling you. It was when others tried to control the magic that things went weary.
He ignored everything else she said; not caring about her fear of loosing her little kingdom. A small corner of the grander world that people seemed to enjoy placing claim to as if they could own it. Fools; let them lose it. His only concern was finding who was behind this before they made their next move. Taking them down before they could take his family down. He didn't know them; but he wasn't going to let his unsureness be the reason that he lost them. He would decide as he went along what the best course of action was at the time.
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Post by Alistair on Nov 3, 2011 12:28:50 GMT -5
He did not move from where he was she she told him to sit down; for he was not about to give a sign of any weakness. Especially when he did not know who was watching them. How far they would take this; and how to get it back. From she made him sound like; he wasn't sure he wasn't stronger with out it. It might be better to never get them back; move forward with his mind solid and not the mind of a man who'd rather be here then fighting.
Even if she could do more; he knew that he'd have hated sitting and watching. Knowing that if she did what she could here; he could still be doing more out there. Why stop? Why let her do it all?
When she spoke of weakening her rule; he turned to walk to the window. He put one hand on each side of the window and looked out. Keeping his hands there; kept them from shaking. He needed to appear clam and in control of what was going on around him. But her words had just told him something else. Something he knew but hearing the form she had said; and now him believing her when she said them; was enough to make him want to leave right that very second. With or without her. Bloody &^%ing hell; weakening her rule meant as her husband . . . .
He muttered a few curses under his breath while looking at the kingdom below the window. When he trusted himself to speak with out sounding like and idiot he spoke again; "Why not just kill me? Or you."
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Post by Alistair on Nov 2, 2011 12:11:38 GMT -5
"You weren't always so good to me," He was better to her then Vaughn would have been. He knew he'd been an ass; she was a noble woman and had cried over some knight but then wished all druids dead. More or less anyway. He could still remember how close he came to wishing he could sake her or smack her; but he'd known better then to raise his hand to her. Or any woman.
"I couldn't help myself; I'd never met anyone so rugged and manly before." Her first comment left him a little bit unsure about how to respond to her; her later comment was just silly. "You could say I couldn't resist your raw animal magnetism." He would ignore that one; if only for his sanity. "Your knights are rather . . . . pretty." That was being nice. Grooming was important to nobles and some wore the most outrageous clothing. One adult man was wearing yellow. There was something odd about a man who dressed as colorful and pretty as the girls he was trying to impress.
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Post by Alistair on Nov 2, 2011 11:08:26 GMT -5
"You were just a child when Uther outlawed all magic," God guess; his age must have gave that away. "Your mother was gifted as you are, with visions of the future. When the knights came for her, your father fought to protect her, but your uncle grabbed you and ran." He didn't hide who he was. He'd learned not to bring it up; and when to sleep apart from the others but it would not be hard to find out his past. He'd been twelve the the Pendragon knights came looking for his mother. she'd been rather open with her gifts; even saw the coming deaths of so many and tried to warn a people. Little did they know that it was their own king that they needed protecting from. Farmers. Not evil witches; not people who sold spells for any amount of coin. Farmers.
And they murdered them before their families. "He saved your life, but...your uncle was a cruel man, and it was a hard life for a child." He grew still again; knowing that wasn't something he'd share with anyone. He did not even speak of it to Vaughn. Especially not to Vaughn. His Uncle had not been abusive in the way that some men were; never raising a ran to him but he remembered being mocked for his dreams. He'd learned not to show emotions; and that he was better off alone.
"You never wanted to be like him; instead you remembered your father, and held onto the memory of your mother, and she's the reason you returned to this land." Now he knew he'd not told a soul that. How the bloody hell did she know? He watched her; and tried to read the emotions on her face.
She was telling the truth. How else would she know something that he'd not just tell anyone. Apparently he was a husband; a father; a bloody knight and noble. Alistair felt the ground shift under him; and felt like he was spinning. Sher will was all that kept him still and staring at her. Why her?
What was special about her? She claimed he liked it when she made his life harder. Didn't stop fighting him. If true then he was the bloody idiot. He wasn't even sure what to say to her; much less act around her. He wished this was a paramicha, a fairytale. He did not want this to be real. "What gain would a person get from taking my history from me?" Not bothering to tell her he believed her; he moved on to the next major question in his mind.
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Post by Alistair on Oct 28, 2011 12:19:10 GMT -5
Alistair did not miss how she lifted the child back into her arms rather then standing guard over her; and his eyes narrowed in on the move. she told it that was at least something. "Something." He repeated; and refused to any anything else. IF she wasn't lieing about the princess bit then getting the babe our would be a pain in the ass. Unless he was really a knight like she claimed; and he he could just walk out.
Could he just walk out? Was that even possible? IF everyone though he was a knight then he could just walk out. No one would think twice about hi being here. Would that prove her words? If everyone thought he was what she claimed he was?
It was a bit difficult to decide on what to believe and what is disbelieve; for he knew nothing about this world and who she claimed he was. None of it felt like something he would do; yet she knew his language and knew his scars. The one he'd felt on his chest should have claimed his life; but to claim a old 'friend' had saved him? Why not claim she had done it to gain something?
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Post by Alistair on Oct 27, 2011 2:27:48 GMT -5
"Would I really make something this crazy up?" It was not the would she; but the why would she that concerned him. He did not believe her. "Do I look like I would have trouble finding a willing man?" Apparently he was fond of arrogance as well; granted she was beautiful; and he took that moment to look over her face; and below taking in that she might have cause of her arrogance; but it was still arrogant. Nobles were arrogant.
"Why would I go to the trouble of erasing the memory of a paranoid, suspicious druid in order to convince him he's the father of my child?" "I have no doubt that it is my child." He told her; admitting that he believed that much. He did not let him self look at her to compare her with the child. He wondered if he should; if he find answers there. While she was still guarding the child however; in her subtle way; he could not be sure. And yet he could not bring himself to ask to hold the babe. Alistair knew he was a strong man; and in a battle or fight relied on that; however he was aware that he could easily hurt her. She'd be too small and fragile.
That would complicate everything. How did you get something so small from a castle? What to do with it after that? Her. What to do with her after that? He refused to be his uncle. He would not do that to a child; but nor did he know how to raise a babe.
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Post by Alistair on Oct 27, 2011 2:26:00 GMT -5
Whenever someone got bold enough to ask him about the princess; he normally gave them a silent look meant to make them eventually feel awkward for asking him that and they would end up walking away. In the woods there was a rule of sorts with animals; you didn't walk away first. When you fought that unspoken battle and stared at someone long enough; they had to be the one to back down first. It showed them you were the stronger one.
His silence worked on so many levels for him; it left him looking strong rather then an idiot who did not know what to say; and as if he refused to answer rather then afraid to say the wrong thing. Once he was done with her lances he spoke in reply to her; "I will not say anything to feed the lose tongued idiots who take pleasure in being the first to tell everyone something new." He would remain silent unless it was someone whom he had come to respect asked. Such as Sir Garrett. Even then he would say little on the topic of his wife.
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Post by Alistair on Oct 27, 2011 2:25:42 GMT -5
Alistair chuckled silently for a second; before looking at her with an almost smile on his face. He wasn't sure what she approved of so much half the time she said things like this to him; but he knew that she did and he was glad for it. That there was something he could give her.
"I seem to remember you did not always with to think your self lucky." He was (trying to) tease her about their first meeting; and while his voice lacked the common joking air one should have; it was there in his own way. "You did try to undress me within an hour of knowing me." He knew that she had been trying to escape; but he was leaving out details to make it sound like something else had happened.
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Post by Alistair on Oct 26, 2011 19:07:26 GMT -5
"Well...you kidnapped me." Alistair had not started looking for a bag; first he was scanning the room trying to appear as if he was not even planning this all in him mind; find footwear; find clothing for the child; find a bag to carry it in. What else did children need? Her words came to him but he did his best to appear as if he were only half hearing her. "I'm a princess, and you needed money to help your people, so you held me hostage." He knew that he planned to help his people; but he had not thought he'd be so . . . proactive. What changed? "We hated each other, and for good reason. I kept trying to escape, and you kept catching me. You made me do chores and labor to keep me busy and tire me out, and because you thought I should see how your people lived. It was awful." Good; he apparently made a point.
"But...I wasn't what you were expecting. It caught you off guard. You said...you liked that I fought back even though it was hopeless, and that I wouldn't give up." What idiot liked it when someone made their life harder? Her reasons were not valid in his mind. "And despite your best efforts to be terrible...well, you're not Vaughn. You couldn't help it, you were kind to me. " There were mixed feelings in that; she was a woman so he was at ease knowing it; but she was a noble woman. A bloody princess!
"I know how it sounds, but it's the truth. You kidnapped me and then I fell in love with you, and you..." . . . He? "...you fell in love with me." Here was the proof that she was lieing. Oh she was good; but he didn't let himself get close to anyone. He would not let her get close enough for emotions to cloud his judgment. It would have made him stupid; cause him to drop his guard. "After that we tried to stay apart, but...it never worked. You kept coming back. We decided we had to find a way to be together, so, for almost two years now, you've been pretending to be a noble of Gwent. A knight." Bloody *#$%ing Hell? She wanted him to think he would pretend to be a NOBLEMAN--A druid hunting KNIGHT for some woman?
"We got married almost a year ago, and a few months ago, Sabina was born." Married to a princess? Had children with a woman who's people hunted down his; and them made his bed in the enemy's camp?
Vaughn. He was the key to this; he would know. He knew that there had been a big uptodo in Camelot; and it was one reason he was going there. He could blend in easier. Vaughn; as a knight; would have been there too to cause trouble. Vaughn would know. The biggest concern right now was how to get the child from her with out doing the babe harm. He also did not wish to converse with her but did not know how else to discover her motives. "I gave up my people; in return for you?" There was a hesitantly in his tone; it was clear he didn't believe.
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Post by Alistair on Oct 26, 2011 0:07:46 GMT -5
Alistair reached his hand up to his shoulder blade while watching her yell at him and touched his shoulder as best as he could. Nothing was there; but he moved his hand to his other shoulder and felt it there. Bloody hell! Why the hell was she in trouble in Camelot? Was she of magic too? Had he gotten her free?
He watched her and the babe; knowing that if it was his child then the chance of her having magic was strong. More so if the mother--whomever she was--had magic as well. He knew that this woman before him claimed to be his wife and the mother of the baby however; he could not fully believe her until he knew that she did not remove the last years in his mind. What if she had remove them to replace another woman there.
WHY was there a woman even in his life!? The few he'd spent enough time around to know were nothing but trouble! Even Maeve whom she had spoken of! The woman thought she was a faery who would save her race by selling necklaces! She had not the common sense to see when she was in danger of loosing her life or her virtue!
Looking at the babe; he took in her face and her eyes. He knew what he looked like; had seen his own reflection in enough streams and dreams to know his own face. He could see himself int he child enough to admit that it was his. It also meant he needed footwear; and a bag to take whatever he needed for the child in it; for they were both leaving. Soon.
"From the beginning." He hold 'his wife'. Wanting to know how her side of the story; be it true or not. He had yet to decide; and yet to decide if she was coming with him or if he would regret not bringing her.
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Post by Alistair on Oct 25, 2011 21:31:14 GMT -5
She was talking allot; and he wasn't sure he liked it. Something about the child's name and something about Camelot where he met her. He hear the words and commented them to memory but he was not giving them credit. Alistair made a wide circle as he walked past her; not wanting her or the babe to get close to him as he looked for a sign of footwear.
"I love you." His whole body froze and he looked at her; being very still. Bloody hell. The words were echoing in his head over and over again. Words he had not heard since before his parents had been murdered. I love you Why say such a thing? She looked as if she believed them; the foolish girl!
"A spell has been cast here;" He told her; knowing it was the only way to explain everything. "To make you believe the story in your head." Because she claimed to love him. He never stayed in one place long enough to get to know people. He disliked people. Why would he stay here; in stone walls and sleep in a soft bed? What could have happened to do this to him?
[Your making it worse]
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Post by Alistair on Oct 25, 2011 21:21:21 GMT -5
Alistair held up one of the small cups, that seemed to be made to be as small as it could be. Tall they might be, but they were thin and narrowed near the bottom. "It would take ten of these to equal one real cup. A waste of metal and time these are." She told her; before holding it out to her.
He had not known how much she would need to drink; she had had taken all he could carry. There was rarely deeper meaning to his simpler actions. He thought she was thirsty; so he brought her water. He would not drink til she had her fill; as any druid would do for their women. He could not do much for her in the ways he was used to husbands taking care of a wife; for she had men who hunted for her; and men who took care of her 'shelter'. So he made sure that when he did something for her; he did it well enough.
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Post by Alistair on Oct 24, 2011 16:51:44 GMT -5
She's his? She! He had a daughter? Alistair did not know much about buildings and the way they were all built but he knew that stone was meant for the bigger richer ones; like castles. He knew who lived in castles. Upon hearing he had a daughter his first reaction was to wonder why the bloody hell he had a daughter in a castle filled with nobles this bloody close to the kingdom that killed his kind on sight?!
He stood up; his eyes not leaving the child in her arms and tried to make sense of her words. Why would it matter if he had been to Camelot yet or not? "No, I was closer to the southern sea." Not inland enough to be near the kingdom." Yet that had seemed important to 'his wife'--if she was in truth--to ask. "Why?" Had something changed in five years?! Was it safe for him and his to move around?
Alistair reached for the shirt that he'd saw not far from the end of the bed and pulled it on. Now all he needed was his boots; but they were not in plain sight anywhere. His shirt was made of better quality then his normal clothing. It felt too light to be real; and he knew it would offer no warmth from the cold. Who wore this type of cloth?!
[Baby deer? Really?]
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Post by Alistair on Oct 24, 2011 16:43:35 GMT -5
Alistair reached for the laces she offered him but used them to pull her backwards; and closer to him. Sliding his hands between the dress and her skin; he locked his larger arm around her. He did not know what else she had planned for today; but he knew that explaining to her maid as to way her hair was messed up in the middle of the day was becoming normal.
With some luck; and a bit of explaining he hoped the woman believed that stress was making her touch her hair more--rather then the woman assuming the truth. After a gentle bite on her shoulder; he finally let her go and started to pull the laces together to allow her to be able to walk out of here on her own. He never asked her; nor pushed her toward a date for when they could stop hiding; however after every encounter like this he did wonder what her grand plan was.
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Post by Alistair on Oct 24, 2011 16:35:24 GMT -5
Alistair watched her for a long moment; taking in her face and trying to decide on if she was indeed well of if she was trying to stop him from worrying. Whenever she tried to do the later; it usually made him put up his guard and watch her closer.
"It's water." He told her; as if she should know what it was. "You are ill, and ill people need water." He was not talking down to her; but nor was he used to explaining his actions. Sitting down three of the cups; he poured the fourth over the cloth he'd stolen from the worker and held it up to her so she could wash her hands and face after her 'illness' and feel comfortable. "The rest you can drink."
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Post by Alistair on Oct 23, 2011 12:42:29 GMT -5
He had started looking for a shirt or something to put on when the child let out a high pitched sequel; and he stepped back a few steps while the mother comforted the babe. Then yelled at him in the language of he druids! It was a mix of both her words that she used to tell him; and her even using the words at all that made him stare at her; this time with surprise clear on his face.
She knew his language; and the druids come out of hiding to share everything. Most the time; wherever he went he hid his heritage to avoid getting killed. He'd been heading back to attempt to embrace it and help his mother's people. How the bloody hell did he end up so far from that?
His hand came up to run though his hair; and he could feel how long it was. Alistair gave it a tug; as if he expected it to fall out and he could find the first flaw in this whole story. Years. He'd lost years of his life? That was when the full realization hit him at what she had said and done just now. Bloody everlasting hell! The kid was his!?
Years upon years of hard travel with Vaughn and Alistair had assumed that of all the men; in all the world; Vaughn would be the one with brats out there that he didn't know. He held out his hand as if to point at the babe and tried to speak but he couldn't find the words; and this time it wasn't because he did not know them. Looking at the child in her arms he could not . . .
He could not even think! Moving down to rest on his haunches; Alistair took a few deep breaths. He didn't trust her; didn't trust anyone right now! Yet he knew if he wanted answers that he had to ask. Had to tell. "I do not remember." Any of it! "I was traveling to Camelot; and went to rest int he forest for dawn and I woke up here."
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Post by Alistair on Oct 22, 2011 12:21:53 GMT -5
Watch his language?! She knew what that meant?! "It's XXXX," XXXX?! Not XXXT? Like it had been when he went to sleep in the middle of the woods! How the bloody hell did one miss almost bloody four years of his own bloody life!? She was talking again, about his scar but he ignored her as best as he could. He could barley take in that it'd been four years much less that she was claiming to be 'wife'?!
He looked at her while she spoke; his eyes ranking up and down her trying to find anything that either would seem like he might know it. Nothing. "Do you remember Maeve?" Yes, but his first and last encounter with the woman had been over ten years ago! He'd been . . . . . eighteen? Young enough; to be stupid enough about his gifts and trying to stop every one of them. His eyes moved around the room while he tried to take in the place around him; the stone walls making him feel trapped; when he found his pants beside the bed. Thank the bloody stars!
He moved quickly over to them, with out giving her his back; in case she was the witch who put him here; and pulled them on. While putting on his pants; his attention was again pulled the the band of metal on his hand. He went to pull it off; as it felt unfamiliar on his hand but when it got half way he noticed the paler skin under it; and pushed it back on. He wore this often? What the hell was this? Looking up at her he knew that right now she was his only hope at finding out. "Who are you?" Besides 'his wife'!
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Post by Alistair on Oct 21, 2011 18:52:12 GMT -5
Alistair watched her carefully for a few moments. He was not ignoring the wife comments but he didn't believe them; so didn't find them worth thinking on for longer then to dismiss them in his mind. Caerleon? Where the hell was that? He stared at her for a moment before connecting it to the kingdom of Gwent. VAGUELY. How the hell did he get here?
He looked away from her; keeping and eye on her though the corner of his own eyes while trying to look around. That was when he saw the bed for a babe. He walked over to a few feet from the basket and stretched over to peek into it. There was a baby. "Futu!!" He muttered before turning to look at her. What the bloody everlasting hell was going? He could feel a tight patch of skin over his chest and as he watched her; he lifted his hand to touch it; feeling the twisted skin there.
"What year is this?" He demand; while trying to figure out where his pants were with out looking away from her.
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Post by Alistair on Oct 21, 2011 16:14:50 GMT -5
Alistair saw her hand lift; then felt her touch him. Shifting his hold from her neck and reached up to grab her hands and force it down to pin it to the bed. When the hell did his hair get long? Something wasn't right and the unsettling alarm that was building wasn't a fond emotion. Uncaring over his state of undress; he shifted his weight to roll them both off the bed; forcing her up with him and pull her back to his chest and her hands before her. "Not a word."
She had not seem afraid when he threatened her life; so either she was a fool; or expecting his actions. Pulling her to the window; he glanced out--both below and above. The sun gave him great pause. What the bloody hell?! Looking down at her as best he could he let her free. Still not trusting her; but the sun told him something was wrong. "Where?" Was there hell was he! When was he!
When he was traveling to Camelot; and last slept the sun had hung high up in the sky; as winter was easing off. The sun now; hung lower int he sky as summer seemed upon them. He knew there was months between the two so something had happened in the missing time. What spell did he use?
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Post by Alistair on Oct 20, 2011 19:23:58 GMT -5
There was a strong difference between him seeing her; and other men seeing her. She might not like some of his names for the difference; for they were all possessive and un-pretty; but it was there. He'd let her go the first time; and walked away from her the second time. When the stars still brought them together; over and over; he no longer fought that they told him.
She belonged to him; chained to him by whatever magic that controlled people. As he was chained to her. She might hate magic; yet nothing else in him mind could explain how their whole lives brought them to this one moment. Fate perhaps; but was fate if not some contorting force you could not see or hear or touch. The same as magic. "I want you wearing nothing but the pearls." He told her; no longer caring about being quick or in the wrong place.
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