-- i stilll see what your going through (Lancelot)

[Marina Tertius]

Marina had been gone the past few days, off riding the trails with a group of trainees. She had heard a few rumors that the Saxons had attacked and raided villages in the north, and she wanted to go and make sure everything was okay. So naturally, she rounded up a group, and told the fellow knights where they were heading, before going on their merry little way. Instead of riding with haste, Marina lead her group nice and steady as they maneuvered they're way through snow, ice, and numerous cities. About two days or so had passed before they finally arrived at the first city. The rumors had been true; the Saxons had ransacked it, and then burnt it, destroying it completely. Instead of leaving, she made the group search for survivors, but the only thing they found were remnants of different households, and a few bodies.

Once they had left the village, and headed towards the next, things began to get interesting. The Saxon's had already raided Brenin, and were waiting for Arthur's men. The trainee's had managed to run the Saxon's off, after a squirmish. No one had been hurt badly, but Marina had already come to decision that they were going to head back to Hadrian's Wall. The last thing Marina wanted or needed was to lose valuable lives. Leading the men, Marina urged Alcarius forward through the snow, before glancing back at the trainees. They were tired, cold, and needed some rest. The next thing she saw, was an arrow fly through the air, only to pierce on of trainee's chest. Reaching down, she grabbed her sword, pulling it out of the sheath, before turning around. The same Saxons that had attacked them at Brenin were back, and ready to fight once more.

Instead of telling the trainee's to stick together, she yelled for them to split up. They were outnumbered and outflanked, and that was the only way they were going to stay alive. Before she had even realized it, one of the Saxon leaders knocked her off Alcarius, before engaging in combat with the young woman. After what seemed like hours, Marina finally scrambled away from the Saxon, before jumping onto her stud. Grabbing her bow, she released the arrow, watching as the man slumped over. At least she had gotten away, but not without injury. The man had managed to cut her cheek and toreso, and stab her forearm numerous times. Marina hadn't realized how bad the Saxon had gotten ahold of her – she was focused on if the trainee's were safe. Little did she know they had arrived at the wall, safe and sound. Nor did they know she was still out there.


An hour or so had passed, before Marina pulled her dark blue cloak closer to her body, and finally slumped over Alcarius, passed out. The young war horse was nearing Hadrian's Wall, before Marina rolled off into the snow, sending him into a full out gallop. Her blood had stained the horses side red, causing a few people to look around widly whenever the horse ran into the training field, riderless.

Alcarius.
PS: Sorry it sucks, I'm halfway asleep.

[Lancelot du Lac]

       Lancelot smothered a laugh as a small boy in a padded leather over shirt that was quite obviously too large for him fell face forward -- landing on what had turned from snow to mush and wet dirt in all of the stomping around that was going on. Not having had anything better to do with his time, Lancelot had volunteered to take the youngsters out and make them practice their basic weapon skills. With winter starting into it’s full swing, there wasn’t much for them to do beyond staying indoors and doing chores close to their respective homes. It was too dangerous to send most of them out with the hunters, the ones who were old enough and capable already did their fair share. Most of the children assembled were boys, the girls opting to stay in the warmth with their mothers, though there were one or two that Lancelot could see out amongst the ragtag group. Seeing the girls who braved the weather and the likelihood of bruises reminded him of Marina. The lady knight of Hadrian. She’d gone on a scouting mission to investigate the recent Saxon attacks to the north a couple of days back and, well, Lancelot was beginning to miss her. He tried not to dwell on the feeling, however, as it brought it out too many other more complicated notions that Lancelot had neither the time nor the courage to work through.

“Alright, alright,” he called out as he realized through his musings that the majority of the children had given up their parrying exercises. As soon as his voice rang out, a see of small grubby faces instantly turned towards him. He was taken aback for a moment, feeling a little bit at sea with so much attention on him. When some of the bystanders who’d come to watch, mainly his companions from back in the days when Arthur led their squadron for the Romans, began to laugh and jeer at him he shook himself out of it. Shooting a dirty look their way and put on the face of a general. He balanced the blade of his sword against his shoulder and paced in front of them. “Alright then, troops, time for some strategy,” his voice boomed over them and they stood a little straighter, attempting to look like the soldiers they doubtless dreamed over being. The image was a little thrown off by their crooked helmets and wooden weapons. “There is large party of warriors and they have something you want. You are behind them and have less men --” he glanced at the girls. “Er, knights. How do you proceed?” The sound of shuffling feet a murmuring filled the air as his ‘troops’ tried to think of their answers. A shout from behind him called his attention away from the children. A lone horse, without it’s rider, came cantering into the training field. “What the--,” Lancelot began.

“Oi, isn’t that Alcarius?” The boy with the too-big vest spoke up.

“Yeah, ‘tis,” another, a stable boy, confirmed. “But where’s Lady Marina? He belongs to ‘er don’it?”

A shiver of apprehension ran down Lancelot’s spine. Jumping the fence that surrounded the sparring circle, he half-sprinted to where someone had stopped the horse. The animal was near foaming at the mouth. Lancelot grabbed his bridle, running his hand along his shoulder to soothe the beast. His hand came away wet and when he examined it, he found it covered in blood. The apprehension he had felt became a potent fear. “You,” he looked at the young man who had caught Alcarius. “Take him to the stables, wash him down. Try to keep as little people as possible from seeing you. There’s no need to worry anyone.” Yet. His mind added mentally, unbidden. The recruit nodded briskly and was off. As he walked back towards the group of children still assembled in the sparring circle, he nodded at Bors, silently calling him over.

“Aidan,” he said, speaking to the second boy who had spoken. “You know which horse is mine?” The boy nodded. “Go and prepare him to ride out. A bridle and reins is all that is needed. I’ll be there shortly. Go, quickly now,” he commanded. The boy ran off, losing his make-shift helmet along the way. “As for the rest of you, practice your thrusts and advances. Choose different opponents this time, you can‘t get complacent by memorizing your partners movements.” The children set off at once to do as he told. Lancelot concentrated on breathing regularly. Somehow, keeping calm was becoming fairly difficult for him -- he who claimed a cool head as one of his best attributes. When Bors arrived at his side, Lancelot cast him a sideways glance. “I’m going after her,” he stated plainly. “If I’m not back within an hour or two, send out a party. Let Arthur know, will you?” He didn’t wait for his friend’s response before he headed toward the stabling area. As he’d hoped, Aidan was waiting with his horse outside in the corral. He still had his longsword sheathed at his hip and the dagger in his boot that he carried out of habit. Hopefully there would not be more trouble than he could handle on his own. By the gods, he hoped she was simply alive.

Jumping onto his horse’s back, he guided the animal out of the corral before kicking him into a gallop the fields towards the city walls. There were fresh tracks in the snow heading back towards Hadrian, most likely made by Alcarius. He followed along side them past the stone walls and it wasn’t long before he saw a lump on the ground ahead -- a stark blue against the pure white of the freshly fallen snow. “Marina,” the word seemed stuck in his throat and he forced it out again. His voice echoing in the still air. “Marina!” There was no movement from the lump. He slid off his horse as he drew up beside her, and knelt in the snow. “Marie…” Gently, he turned her over. There was blood all over her face and more along her arm and torso. Lancelot felt himself relax a little bit as he realized she still breathed. He brushed her back away from her face, out of her wound, willing her to open her eyes.

TAG;[/color] marina
WORDS;[/color] 1074
LOCATION;[/color] outside hadrian's city walls
CLOTHING;[/color] toooo lazy
NOTES;[/color] ahhhhh it got rather long (and I kind of used some npc's for filler, meh_ sorry about that x__x
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[Marina Tertius]

The last thing Lady Marina had been expecting was to come face to face against the same Saxons that had participated in the squirmish at Brenin. They had already defeated them once, so why on earth would they come back for more? Marina didn’t understand the way the Saxons thought; they were unpredictable. Which in the end, only caused her to hate them with an even bigger passion. Saxons were undoubtedly, up to no good. They were the only reason the young lady warrior found herself out in the wildness, going against the bad weather with a group of young soldiers. If the Saxons hadn’t attacked the towns, Marina could have been home, in the inn where it was nice and warm. So, yes you could say that whenever she watched the arrow pierce one of the trainee’s chest, she was taken by surprise. A few seconds later, Marina instinctively grabbed the hilt of her sword, pulling it out of the leather sheath. She did a quick survey of their surrounding, figuring out a plan so that they could all get out of this mess, safe and sound. There were a few trails, moving away from the main one, and at the moment that seemed like their best bet. They were outnumbered and outflanked by long shot. If they stayed and fought, they would lose soldiers. If the split up, then that also meant the Saxons would have to split up.

”Split up, and meet back at Hadrian’s Wall.” Marina yelled, turning Alcarius in a tight circle, watching as they all split up. Once she had made sure they had all gotten out of there, Marina gave the steed a swift kick, sending him lurching forward. The horse had a good taste of battle, seeing how they had both participated in many together. After a while, the horse and woman had bonded, and Alcarius almost always knew what Marina wanted just by a flick of the reins. Turning her head to the side, Marina glanced over her shoulder, watching as a few Saxon on horseback fell in pursuit. Sliding her sword into the sheath, she grabbed her bow and a few arrows, turning around in her seat. Releasing the arrow, Marina watched one of the Saxon fell off his horse, leaving only one more. Turning back around in the saddle, Marina gave the reins a yank to the left, just in time for a Saxon perched in a tree to lunge, pushing her off the side of her horse. They had been expecting her to come this way – was that what they wanted? Herself? Rolling across the ground, Marina caught her breath within seconds, before lunging towards Alcarius, pulling her sword out and turning around just in time to stab the Saxon that knocked her off her horse.

A few seconds later, she felt the sting of his hand across her face, before turning around, stabbing him once more. Before she knew it, she was being wrestled to ground by the remaining Saxon, watching as he lifted his hand, before making a cut across her cheek, an even deeper cut across her side, and then began to work on her arm. Yelling out in pain, Marina watched as Alcarius came up from behind, rearing, kicking the male in the back. That was chance. Slipping in the snow and mud, Marina finally scrambled to her knees, crawling towards Alcarius. Grabbing her bow, and turned around just in time to release the arrow and watch as the Saxon slumped over in a heap. Placing the bow back, Marina crawled to her sword, pulling herself up against it, before climbing on top of Alcarius with a groan. She was exhausted, and in more pain than she had ever imagined possible. The only thing Marina thought about on the ride back to Hadrian’s Wall was the soldiers? Were they safe, or had they suffered a worse fate than her? That was the last thing to cross her mind, before she finally slumped over Alcarius’s neck.

The horse and rider weren’t to far from Hadrian’s Wall, and yes, she was thankful to have a horse that knew its way back home. Marina’s grasp against the horse had loosened, causing her to slide off, and into the snow. Even the jar of the fall didn’t drag her out of her unconscious state. Instead, she was in the middle of a ‘dream’ if that was what you wanted to call them, about the same Saxons attacking her once again, and the fact that she couldn’t do anything about it. Instead, she didn’t have any weapons and was unable to move. Marina watched as the Saxon’s came closer and closer to her, with an evil smirk, but then all of the sudden she felt heard her name, and felt warm hands run across her face. Opening her eyes with a gasp, Marina found herself staring up at Lancelot. As badly as she wanted to say this was just a bad dream, and that she had fallen of Alcarius and bumped her head, she just couldn’t. The pain in her body proved her wrong. Marina felt she had been beaten over and over again. Her arms, torso, face, and well, her whole body hurt. ”Bloody Saxons attacked..” Marina said somewhat groggily, before continuing on, ”I’ll be fine.”

Typical Marina. She always focused on everything but herself, but this time she had good reason to. Marina also had a tendency to say things were better than what they actually were – and this was a perfect example. She just didn’t want to think about the extent of her injuries – not even a little bit.

Alcarius.
PS: Haha, it’s fine.

[Lancelot du Lac]

       The moment before Marina opened her eyes seemed to Lancelot like an eternity. The snow falling around them slowed until it felt as if it wasn’t falling at all. His breathing was as slow, forced in-and-out as he tried to remain calm. A thousand -- no, million -- thoughts ran through his head, none of them registering at all. His mind was in a whirl yet was so exclusively focused on the woman beneath his hands that nothing else could penetrate his concentration. All he could see was deathly pale skin and blood every where. For the first time in his life, he was completely unable to act. He had no idea what he should do, he only knew that he needed Marina to open her eyes. The moment drug on, Lancelot completely at sea sitting in the snow. He’d seen many men wounded in battle, had been one himself, and never had he felt so helpless as he did right then. All of the knowledge he had accumulated flitted right out of his brain. “Come on, Marina,” he insisted, shaking her shoulders slightly.

Pulling her into his arms, he cradled her neck with his arm and willed her to open her eyes. The last thing he wanted to do was cart her dead body back to Hadrian and face the wrath of her brothers. As if it were his fault in all. “How did this happen, Tertius?” he demanded of the unconscious woman. It was what he called her when she irritated him. He used it, hoping somewhere inside of her, she heard it and would wake up to fire off a quip at him. Finally, that moment that was in actuality rather short in comparison to how he felt, was over. Marina’s eyes blinked open and stared up at him. When she spoke, he had to lean in close to hear her words. While a part of him was enraged and ready to slaughter the Saxons who had dared touched her. Another part of him wanted to laugh with the relief he felt that she was still coherent. Though by the looks of it, it wouldn’t be much longer before she lost consciousness again. That realization gave a sort of electric shock to his brain and it began to work again.

“You most certainly will not be if we don’t get you home soon. We‘ll deal with the Saxons later,” he retorted rather more sharply than he intended. Brushing the snowflakes from her cheek with the back of his hand, his lips thinned as he pursed them together. Before he tried to move her the distance back to Hadrian, he needed to assess her injuries -- make sure nothing was broken or damaged that further movement would exacerbate beyond help. “Quickly now, love,” he cupped her cheek with his hand, trying to keep her awake. He could already hear the pull of unconsciousness with the grogginess of her voice. “I need you to tell me exactly where it hurts,” he chuckled low in his throat, though there was no humor in it. “And don’t tell me your whole body, because that is both obvious and unhelpful.” She was turning paler by the moment and the panic began to encroach in on his calm once again, masking itself as impatience. The blood seeping from her body was fast turning the snow beneath her a deep crimson that was a startling contrast with the whiteness around them.

Looking around them, Lancelot could hardly see the tracks Halcyon had made when they’d ridden out. His horse stood a few yards away and he considered. Would it be better just to get her onto Halcyon and back to Hadrian as fast he could and let the healers decide how best to proceed? It seemed like the best logic and, yet, Lancelot balked at the idea of causing her further harm. Just a moment more, he thought. Looking back down at her, he let out a breath. “Please Marina, I--,” he stumbled over his words, the cold of the snow suddenly making itself present in his body with a shudder. Gods, if he was cold he couldn’t imagine how she felt with all of the blood loss. “I don’t want to hurt you anymore than you already are, so you have to tell me or else I won‘t know. Then I promise we will go home, get you fixed up and riding herd on the trainees in no time at all.”

TAG;[/color] marina
WORDS;[/color] 756
LOCATION;[/color] outside hadrian's city walls
CLOTHING;[/color] toooo lazy
NOTES;[/color] sorry it took so long, but I took the opportunity of being snowed in to write it up (:
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[Marina Tertius]

Marina just laid there in his arms, limp and for the most part, lifeless. She was technically unconscious, but her mind was stuck in a terrifying dream universe. In her dream, Marina found herself facing the Saxon’s once again, except she was helpless. She was unable to move, and her weapon was an arms length away, if only she could move. Marina watched as the group of Saxon men moved towards her, evil smiles plastered across their facial features, as she braced herself for the worst. Whenever the leader of the group came upon her though, the unexpected happened. Marina watched as he said, ’How did this happen, Tertius?’ But, it was an voice she realized. It was Lancelot’s voice. He always called her Tertius whenever she had managed to aggravate or bother him. Marina watched as her surrounding became fuzzy, and completely disappeared into a black abyss.

A few seconds later, the young woman opened her eyes with a gasp, as she found herself staring up at Lancelot. ”It’s Marina, you dimwit.” Marina said groggily, managing to shoot an annoyed look at him. Of course she was going to wake up to fire a snarky comment back at him. She may have been hanging on by a thread, but she would always have a strong personality. It was just something, that you could always expect out of the young woman. Trying to move her head, Marina attempted to look around at her surroundings, before giving up altogether. Wherever she was, it was cold and snowy. Which meant one thing; she had to be near the wall, unless Lancelot had ridden out to the attack site looking for her. A few seconds passed before she murmured something along the lines of ‘I’m fine’. Deep down, she knew she was badly injured, she just didn’t know the extent of her injuries. Anyways, it was more of a protective barrier; she was trying to tell herself that everything would be okay.

Lancelot’s presence was actually more reassuring than her own words though. He would take care of her, just like she had taken care of him after the Battle of Badon Hill. Except for this time, the tables were turned, and it wouldn’t the Battle of Badon Hill; it would most likely be the Battle of Marina versus the Saxons. Marina listened to him, and then watched as he moved his hand to brush the snowflakes off her cheek. The Saxons had already been taken care of, or that’s what she remembered. She remembered her horse attacking one of the men, and she finished him off. Speaking of Alcarius, where was he? Was he safe and sound in the stables? That was have to wait, because just when she was getting ready to ask, Lancelot asked her where it hurt. Well, that was easy: everywhere. ”Everywhere.” Marina said before narrowing her brows, giving him a weak glare. If he wanted specifics, then he would get specifics. ”My arm and side…” Marina said groggily, as her eyes began to get heavy, her teeth chattering every so often.

She was cold but not just from the snow; the lack of blood played a major role in it also. At this point, she just wanted to go to sleep, and wake up and find out that this was just a bad dream. If that couldn’t happen, then she wanted to wake up to the healers telling her that she would be okay with time. By now, the pain was actually starting to set in. Her side felt like she was being stabbed over and over again, but her arm, well it was a different story. She couldn’t feel anything in her, except for prickly sensation: it was numb from the cold, or so she hoped. The last thing she wanted was nerve damage. Blinking, Marina slowly opened her eyes, looking up at Lancelot. Lifting her less injured arm, Marina brushed her hand against his cheek. ”Get me home..” She murmured softly, before slipping back into unconsciousness. This time, it was actual unconsiousness. It wasn’t her dream world full of Saxons. It was just darkness, but she could still feel the cold, and the pulsating pain.

Alcarius.
PS: It’s fine.