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Post by Much on Mar 21, 2009 15:52:42 GMT 1
A little way into the forest where the trees began to thicken and the ground was completely hidden by leaves Much sat, his head back on a tree and his eyes closed. He had been hear for about an hour or so dreaming and letting the small rays of light that broke through the trees warm his face. Today was his day, he decided early that morning whilst he prepared to go hunt and make breakfast for the camp when it hit him why should he? They never did very much when It came to cleaning washing and keeping the camp in order and when the fire went out and they all got cold in there sleep they all looked to him with angry sleepy faces. Well he had had enough today they could get there own breakfast whilst he napped in the sun and had warm light hearted dreams about Eve.
It had been a few months since he had properly thought of her and he felt guilty about it even though they barely new each other. Eva had risked her life to save them even if in the beginning she was sent to be the Sheriff’s eyes and ears she had risked her and her family’s safety to help him and the gang. It still struck him that he was able to win the heart of some one so beautiful all the girls fell at Robin’s feet never at his no one noticed him beside his masters side. The memory of Eve and her lovely honey hair and her sweet but sad songs floated around in his head as he dreamed of times when he might be lord of Bonchurch again. The others forgot that he was a lord after his services in the holy land Robin had given him the lodge at Bonchurch and the Sheriff himself had made him a lord. That still unsettled him but Much pushed it out of his mind to make way for warmer and happier thoughts.
“No I like rose petals with my bath and a plate of something”
He mumbled in his sleep kicking some leave forward with his feet and he readjusted himself. Much was being reckless napping so far from camp where anyone could pass by and murder him in his sleep or rob his belongings, not that he had many but today he was going to be selfish. When he did decide to return to the camp the others would question him and complain about there hunger but he would deal with that later. The afternoon sun spotted his face with little warm patches of sunlight causing him to smile peacefully in his sleep. Much felt that at this moment in time nothing could ruin his mood but he was so very wrong.
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Post by blessie on Mar 21, 2009 20:22:24 GMT 1
Blessie had been in Nottingham for not two days and yet all she seemed to have seen of the once so majestic city was the dilapidated quarter filled with leering drunks and an overtly dull court that nearly brought her to sleep. She needed to see the Nottingham that was so fabled in the history books, written forever in faded ink on yellowed pages and the only place that seemed to hold the long forgotten essence of splendour was that which she was standing in. The beautiful forest that seemed to stretch on in endless glens and rolling valleys marred with sprouts of emerald trees as far as the eye could see.
Spring was erupting all around as she carefully ambled through the brush, fine French gowns settling on the fallen earth as a contented smile flitted on her face. It was so far beyond the norm for somebody of her station to be so free about herself without the ominous present of her ladies maid whom she had abandoned in the castle. Bless Margaret, she had no idea of her mistress’ escapades and even if she did the innocence that still gleamed on her youthful face would precedent that she wouldn’t understand any way. She smirked at the thought, a coy smile furling onto her face as she carefully ducked under a precariously placed branch.
She had been lavishly dressed under the instruction of Margaret, spared no mercy for her gentle walk into the woods; the French maid couldn’t readily comprehend practicality it seemed. Her lithe body had been shrouded in a lavish sheath of green silks. Her skirts plumed abruptly from her hips in cascades of magnificent material as in the French style, her bodice constricting her breath into short painful gasps. She had no idea as to why those in France preferred the feeling of being suffocated to the loose gowns that fell away so effortlessly. Her pale fingers absently flirted with the coronet that had been placed in her loose curls left about her face and shoulders. The beautiful hair piece was accompanied by an ornate pearl necklace shrouding her collarbone and chest.
Her pale eyes scanned the brush surrounding the patch that she was currently traversing, nothing stirred, nothing sounded save the gentle thrum of her humming and the innocent chirps of the birds stingingly lavishly in the trees. Her eyes narrowed upon a clearing not a few yards off where the faint outline of a pair of boots lay solemnly against the dried earth. Her eyes widened as she scanned the man’s body, carefully edging closer until she stood meters away, nervously glancing down upon him.
’Sir...Sir are you alright?’ Blessie smiled tentatively breathing deep as her accent lilted voice rang melodically around the clearing. Her back straightened in anticipation as she smirked and raised her eyebrows in curiosity.
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Post by Much on Mar 21, 2009 21:00:40 GMT 1
“ My mater let me wash your feet for you” Eve said in her creamy voice sending a spasm of warmth from his feet up words as she began to dab at his tired feet with a soft soapy sponge. Much new he was dreaming but he tried with all his might to believe that the lovely scene in his minds eyes was real. The dimly lit wash room with the shadows of candle flames dancing on the walls and casting Eve’s perfect face in dark shadow. How he wished it wouldn’t and he could lay eyes on her and take in her unmatchable loveliness and her perfect plump lips. If there really where angels, and although he was Christian he still had his doubts they would have to put up a strong fight to match her beauty. Her beauty was one of the only things Much and Alan had agreed on and for a small moment Much had thought that maybe he could even like Alan. That thought was short lived very short lived.
“As if mate” Allan has laughed when Much had returned to the camp. His welcome hadn’t been warm like he had hopped instead it was another reason for them to poke fun at him.
Something made Much stir his brow furrowed in confusion. “Don’t look so sad my dear” Eves voice sang muffled by consciousness. No he didn’t want to wake up this was by far the best dream he had ever hand and he had had many. No Eve come back, he groaned in his head trying to force him self again but every one knows that’s rarely possible. Her flawless frame was almost consumed by the darkness and Much was lone in his bath shirt in an empty tub with nothing but a few rose petals at his feet.
His eyes opened slowly and the petal; at his feet turned to dead leave which made his mood take a drastic plummet down the happiness scale. As if the sun was in some way connected to his mood the sun paced on leaving the forest dull and ugly. It took him a few seconds to regain his other senses and the fine fabric to his side shocked him in to movement. With a clumsy but swift movement he was in his feet his sward in hand staring wide eyed and the elegant stranger.
“Who... Who are you” He cried out his voice heavy with sleep” I wasn’t sleeping”. He didn’t notice his stupid questions as he tried to gather himself together Much was never one for quick rises.
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Post by blessie on Mar 21, 2009 21:23:25 GMT 1
Blessie let out a startled choke as the man’s eyes carefully shot open and he leapt stealthily up into a defensive stance, sword menacing in the spring sunshine. A gasp wormed its way through her lips and she raised her pale hands to her company, tentatively moving away from the sword clad vagabond so her lithe back was pressed against a tree, breath coming in sporadic gasps; chest heaving with the effort of keeping steady. The man had seemed so utterly harmless, so content to sleep in the fallen leaves that her other sense had been broken, lost into foolishness.
’Je vous en prie! Please sir!’She choked words mumbled and incoherent as they rambled from her pale lips. Her lavishly adorned body fell away against the tree trunk; a light tremble worming through her pale flesh as her eyes narrowed and she bit her lip, face falling away to the earth below. 'Blessie, Elizabeth! My name is Elizabeth Elizabeth Marie Du Clairvauè I was walking...walking and I found you.'
She had never been faced with the danger of a sword, or not so realistically threatened. She had faced the prince’s wrath but she had never seen the sadistic glint of the metallic torturer before, or at least not in a situation that would warrant her death. Perhaps he was one of these fabled striders, those that travelled from village to village, thieving ad pillaging until his blackened soul was utterly fulfilled. She allowed a gush of crisp spring air to flood her chest as she took a solemn gasp, finally raising tear smarted eyes to the man before her.
’I meant no harm Sir, I...I thought you injured, that is it I swear it!’Her brow furrowed as her pleading etched words rang around the clearing; stuttered and broken as foreign English words refused to form cohesive sentences in her mind.
She smiled tentatively smiled at the man, heart thrumming an absent rhythm against her chest as she eyed the man. All traces of the usually arrogant and utterly brazen woman that so easily fell into the beds and hearts of courts around Europe was gone, instead replaced by a quivering shell of a woman. She was standing before an armed man, alone and weak when he could so easily take her or her life, leaving her bleeding crimson blood against the dust ridden earth of the forest floor. She shuddered lightly at the thought as her fingers absently flirting with the crest upon her lavish pearl necklace.
‘Please take my jewels but leave me be...I don’t want to be killed.’ Her words were an incoherent mass of words that barely made sense as she stared with pleading eyes toward the man before her.
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Post by Much on Mar 23, 2009 13:13:31 GMT 1
[sorry this is rushed and pretty crap because I need to catch a train out of town….]
Much was taken aback. It had been almost a year since he and Robin had passed through France on the journey from the holy land back to England. Although not the most pleasant of travailing experiences what with Robin recovering from a stab wound to the abdomen, Much had enjoyed there travel through France far more than the rest of there journey. For one thing the people were far more pleasant than they had bean else where but the main reason was the food. Ohh the food the roast pork and salted potato’s even a simple peasant’s dinner was a feast compared to the army rations they had been living off in the holy land. The sudden flashback made his mouth water and he realized how hungry he was.
“Ahh my Lady” he said his voice still edged with confusion” …Oh Ohh no my lady”. He begun to chuckle, which was for those who new him one of his more nervous tendency’s and he usually wasn’t aware that he did it. He lowered his arm which held the sword and relaxed his shoulders which until that second had been tensed. Feeling awkward he watched the lady as she panicked and a stab of guilt stabbed at his heart. He didn’t like it when he came across badly to those who did not need to fear him and those who should fear him just looked at him as a joke. Much could never win.
“Well ill gladly take you jewels but don’t worry im not going to harm you… that is I won’t harm you unless you harm me first”. Much placed his sward back in its place at his side and picked up his forest green scarf that lay sprawled over a mound of leaves on the forest floor.
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Post by blessie on Mar 23, 2009 15:12:03 GMT 1
Blessie’s brows furrowed in confusion as the man before her began to chuckle melodically, a grin apparent on his sun marred face. Streams of topaz light flitted through the canopy of evergreen leaves, first shooting in the spring sun. The warmth seared her flesh as she stared on in disbelief at the man as she absently drifted into his own thoughts it seemed. She smiled tentatively as she carefully, languidly raised her eyes to meet the rosy cheeked man.
Something about his apparent confusion was almost endearing as her body quelled the trembles that were worming their way through her flesh as her body fell back away toward the tree behind. This never happened, ever in any court nor city she had strayed into; it was simply unheard of. Women, women of her lineage and standing were not attacked with swords nor threatened by oafs in woodland. She had ventured into London and Paris on her lonesome before, falling into the most deprived of areas and yet she still had remained whole, safe against the foes lurking in the shadows. She supposed people in such cities simply had more tact than those slumming themselves in pastures as this man.
‘Well I’ll gladly take you jewels but don’t worry I’m not going to harm you… that is I won’t harm you unless you harm me first.’
Her eyes snapped up as his voice rang loud through the clearing and she finally allowed her back to straighten, a coy smile furling onto her pale lips as her eyes narrowed. Confidence flooded her lithe chest as she felt the first smarting of amusement pull at her body and she carefully heaved herself from the tree behind, tentatively moving forward as the man docked his sword once more into his scabbard. This was more like it; the confident and overtly vivacious young courtier was so finally returning as she allowed pale fingers to splay over her hip as she cocked an eyebrow.
‘If you are not going to harm me, why should I give you my jewels that are so precious to me sir?’ Her thick French accent cloaked the words as the words sang from her mouth in a melodic flow of beautifully crafted sentences.
Perhaps, in hindsight she shouldn’t have provoked the man before her after all he hadn’t explicitly promised not to harm her; he had only merely insinuated it yet Blessie wasn’t one for being cautious, her brief stint within the enemies of the Countess were clue enough. She breathed deeply, frustrated that despite her calmed demeanour, the tremble in her lithe hand so refused to die as she flexed the pale digits in an attempt to quell the shakes. She let a melodic chuckle worm through her lips as she eyed the man before her.
He seemed young and handsome, in a gentle way and yet there was an earthly sadness or displeasure surrounding him as he mournfully snatched his green scarf from the ground. Blessie merely smiled, extending her hand for the man to take as she inclined her head graciously. ‘I am the Lady Elizabeth Clairvauè, third heir to the duchy of Clairvauè, dearest niece of the late king of France and lady to her grace the Countess of Gloucester, his majesty Prince John’s wife. I...I require you treat me with some respect sir.’ Her words faltered lightly as her impassioned speech trailed off. She truly doubted whether gloating of her lineage would bid the man leave her alone yet she was one to attempt to befriend or manipulate anybody it seemed.
She smiled mournfully at the man; fears quelled enough for her to attempt conversation it seemed. She wasn’t completely happy, or even mostly happy with the situation as she appeared to be talking to a man that would gladly rid her of her most precious jewels and holdings yet she seemed so at peace was it? Around this man in the least. She inhaled deeply, content as clean air flooded her lungs and she absently began to wring pale hands around each other in awkwardness. For all its earlier excitement and terror, this meeting was becoming rather long, if he were to rob her then she prayed it would be soon at least; a harsh spring breeze assaulted the forest from the north and she couldn’t bear the thought of stumbling through the forest, alone as dusk fell.
‘Whom are you? Why are you in the forest? Doing...doing this, robbing people of their goods?’
OOC: No worries, I got into Blessie mode so I apologise for the length.
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Post by Much on Mar 24, 2009 15:31:03 GMT 1
Much crossed his arms around is plump middle and tried to forget about the rash that itched around his neck. It had appeared two days ago and Much, being Much kicked up a huge loud extravagant huff. Of coarse none of the camp really paid any Anny attention unless it was to yell"Shut up Much" or "Much just go grab some fire wood". He was taken for granted and they did nothing for him they didn't even spare the smallest tiniest amount of time to say "OH Much are you ok" or"wow Much that rash looks nasty. In truth the rash really wasn't All that bad but being the attention seeking over dramatic kind Much was playing it up.
His chuckle renewed at the finely dressed girls naivety. What did she expect would happen is she when she set off in to the forest that there would be fluffy little bunny's and frolicking deer. Most girls Much had met excluding Marian Djaq and Anya seemed to become temporarily naive when it came to the dangers of the forest. They views it as a quaint story books forest with overly large flowers and far to many butterfly's.
"You will give me your Jewels because if you don't then some one far worse than me will come along and snatch them from you and they might take those gowns your wearing". [/b]Much admired the fine fabrics that draped over th girls small frame you didn't to have a knowledge of material to know that they would fetch a pretty pound at the market. " Its Much safer just to give your jewels to me then at least you know there going to do some good."
Really he was saving her life,Much thought. If he was to leave her and let her carry on through the forest some one far worse than even Alen would come along and steal from her and knowing the types who roamed around in this forest she might never return home.
[/blockquote] [sorry i just couldn't get any inspiration to right a nicely written post back darn bad computers !]
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Post by blessie on Mar 24, 2009 19:56:21 GMT 1
‘You will give me your Jewels because if you don't then someone far worse than me will come along and snatch them from you and they might take those gowns you’re wearing.’
Blessie’s mouth fell open as her eyes carefully scanned the forest around the man before snapping down to study her fine gown that she had so carefully been adorned in. It was not particularly fine in comparison to the eons of lavish gowns she was so used too, it was more of her riding habit yet it was spectacular nonetheless. The plain silks and patterned linen that wound around her lithe body complimented her fair colouring and besides that, the dress had cost her father near a small fortune to be tailored so. A light shudder racked her body as she tentatively raised her eyes to the man standing before her, arms cross protectively over his portly figure.
The thought of being attacked, raped even killed had never been so vehemently brought to her attention, she had never even thought of such a thing happening to her. Yet Nottingham was worldly different; peasants it seemed, ruled all and the laws laid down could be so easily flouted. Blessie’s confidence was wiped as soon as it had erupted within her chest and she tentatively raised shaking fingers to the clasp of her fine pearl necklace, fingers fumbling and uncoordinated as panic freely rippled through her chest. At least if she complied now she could report it to the sheriff or one of his henchman then this fool would get his comeuppance and her precious jewels would be returned to her.
‘It’s much safer just to give your jewels to me then at least you know they’re going to do some good.’
Her eyes snapped to the man as his words rang confidently through the clearing as her fingers pulled the ornately crafted coronet from her ashen tresses. ’How will they do good? They will only be melted down for your own end, will they not?’ Her words were harsh s she carefully unclasped her pearl drop earrings and the gold band fastened around her lithe wrist. The trembles that racked her body shook the haul from her hand as she threw them to the ground before him, eyes deadly as she raised them to meet his gaze. If he wanted her valuables he should get them as a dog on the floor.
‘The necklace was my mothers and the coronet given to me by my late uncle, the king of France.’ She sneered the name as her fingers absently flirted with the gentle arch of her collarbone, feeling utterly bare as she was unceremoniously stripped of her pride and jewels simultaneously. Her eyes absently travelled to the gem encased bangle lying under flowing leaved and her chest flooded with a raw agony, burning and searing as he took a sporadic breath.
‘My husband gave me that bracelet not two days before he left for Acre. I travelled with him as far as I could and he said he should always be with me as long as I had it with me, are you enjoying taking one of the last reminders I have of him? You’re pathetic.’ She spat the words as a tear dribbled down her cheek and she swotted it away before carefully averting her eyes, looking toward the perfect blue sky and sighing, biting her lip.
She hadn’t thought of Hugh in months if not years, why she was feeling so devastated now was utterly questionable. Perhaps it was stress or merely one of his beautiful gifts being taken away from her, passed into another hands. She let out a stifled choke before a mournful smile flitted onto her face and she returned her gaze toward the man before her. ‘Sorry,’ She started sheepishly, cheeks flaring crimson in embarrassment. ‘It’s been a while since I thought of him, take it and use it for feeding those peasants, it is better than laying absent on my wrist I suppose.’
She inwardly groaned, she was being pathetic. She hadn’t cried in years and then today she broke down as a fool, it was unacceptable. She wiped away the drying tears and smiled, meeting his eyes as she straightened her evergreen gown and coughed weakly, she would be strong as she always was. The abrupt bow of amusement was embarrassing and completely unprecedented; she would not do it again. ’I don’t know your name good Sir.’
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Post by Much on Mar 24, 2009 22:28:15 GMT 1
Much was beginning to feel a temper coming on and from what he sensed it was not only his own that might go off. Whether it was his or the stranger French noble it did not matter his day was now rewind. All he had wanted was a peacefully day to him self where he could sleep relax and not worry about anything other than himself but thanks to this OH la la that was out of the question.Even if he where to leave her now, just walk away it did not matter his mood had plummeted.
Much was silent for a while but was unable to contain him self at her obvious idiotic question, How would they do good? Did she not know who he was? Well, probably not it was true no one ever remembered Much he was the one that was easily forgotten and faded in to the back ground unlike Robin Will and Allen. He was going to have to explain which would probably result in him ranting and while he ranted the poor girl would get so board that she would just walk off. His temper had really started to stew, his own thoughts working him up and agitating himself.
"How will they do good" he exclaimed with wide eyes which really was a good look for Much it showed off his two Crystal clear diamond like eyes. "Are you living in Nottinghamshire have you seen whats happened to the place? People live under bridges where they bring there children up in filth".
Much forced him self to stop when he heard the second half of her sentence. His weather worn lips pursed shut as he watched Elizabeth his face falling in to an over dramatic glare. In the word of little John, she he did not like. So quickly in only a few short minutes she had managed to work his temper in to a frenzy, with a little help from himself. Instead of retaliating he listened as she rattled on about her jewelry which was pretty but to Much thats all it was just pretty. He didn't care much fore jewels or shinny toys Much was more of a home lover, a lover of warmth and comfort not material items. A single word snapped him out of his thoughts. A flood of emotions hit him at once like a large ragging wave colliding with a cliff face.
Acre.
"What?" he said his temper subsiding almost instantly. What did she know of Acre? Her husband had travailed to Acre, to the holy land where he and Robin spent 5 years of the life fighting a pointless battle. Why had been there he cant have been there to fight surely,and then she was crying and much was plunged in to the winter of the emotional seasons he was experiencing.
"Keep the bracelet" he said stunned unable to think of anything more substantial and comforting to say to her,"I'm sorry about your husband. Keep the bracelet. I know of Acre, my master and i fought there in the Kings guard until" he thought it best not to continue you in that direction.
"I am Much"
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Post by blessie on Mar 25, 2009 0:15:20 GMT 1
‘What?’
Blessie snapped her head up; eyes still smarted with tears she wouldn’t readily spend as a brief look of pain surged over her company’s face. His voice was readily incredulous as words began to spill from her mouth rambling and in cohesive as coherent thoughts refused to dwell long enough to form sentences. It had been too long since she had thought and memories, painful and vast as she attempted to quell the barrage of vicious images that assaulted her mind.
‘My husband was drafted by King Louis a few...a few weeks before the crusade took heat, he wanted to be the hero, wanted the glory for that fool of a king,’ She sent a shrill, agony filled laugh as the image of her husbands face, mournful and yet fervently overjoyed left the inn with his legion; never to be seen again. She carefully breathed deep, cool air flooding her trembling body. ‘He was killed not two weeks later...two weeks he took a blade to the throat I was told and bled out in the desert.’ She looked down, bidding the tears that seared her pale orbs to leave her alone, she had to be strong for herself if not for her husband.
They had buried him in Acre, in one of the memorials with all of those in his legion that had perished. Even in death, he would so distant, so unfamiliar; she hadn’t even had the heart to ask his grave me tended for although she had heard stories of simple pits where the dead were callously thrown or great pyres stacked high into the sky, forever burning as ash fell on those for miles around. The thought repulsed her and she felt a shudder run through her as his words, panicked and short splintered the air.
‘Keep the bracelet; I'm sorry about your husband. Keep the bracelet. I know of Acre, my master and I fought there in the Kings guard until.’
Her brow furrowed and she felt compelled to reach out and comfort him and she absently registered herself inching forward, hand outstretched before she competently snapped it back. This man had threatened her with a sword, had threatened her life yet that short letter Hugh had sent not days before he passed devastated her, it must have been horrifying for the man before her, especially serving with his master and she let a light, comforting smile flit onto her face.
‘Did your master...Did your master die? You must take the bracelet, I have only recently arrived in Nottingham but I believe what you say of those starving, I have seen the commoners the most unhappy, besides that Hugh was a good man; he would want my gift to go somewhere where it could be used.’ She smiled, carefully leaning down to clasp the bangle an coronet within her hands before inching forward and pressing the cool metal into the mans flesh, her own digits trembling. She was confused, wholly, this man, this outlaw was taking her possessions, her precious possessions and yet she was more preoccupied the feel of his worn palm beneath her own and the horrors that danced in the subtle gleam of his eyes.
‘I am Much.’
She tentatively slid her hand from his grasp, releasing the metallic objects into his own hand before she breathed deep and inclined her head, her accented voice ringing calmly into the clearing. ’Nobody calls me Elizabeth; I’m Blessie or Bless if you’d like. So, tell me Much do you live alone in the forest?’
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Post by Much on Mar 27, 2009 16:07:58 GMT 1
Much watched the girl carefully his insides all turned to jelly and his face every so slightly edged with torment at remembering acre. He was better that other at concealing the horrors of acre and getting on with things but there where points where it was just unbearable but robin still wouldn’t talk about it. Some times Much needed to talk about it he needed to discuss things that had taken place in the last 5 years of his life other wise what was the point? The others Will John Anya and Will they didn’t under stand and that wasn’t there fault only those who had been there really could.
“No please keep the bracelet” Much said again waving his hands in front of him his face warming somewhat “I won’t let you give it to me”.
It seemed like the right thing to do letting her keep the bracelet and if it stopped her crying and served as a reminder of her husband it would have been wrong to take it. Much dropped his hand and placed them on his waist as observed the young lady. Now that he wasn’t threatened and they seemingly had a little in common he felt at ease and more himself. His shoulders dropped the tenses fading and his face became softer, a small smile even found its way on to his face.
“Blessie it is or on occasion Bless” he tittered and raised on hand to point at her” Bless you”. It was a bad joke and he new it but Much always did find even the worst jokes funny he couldn’t help it. He didn’t much care if she thought him strange he had become used to it thanks to Alan and Will so one more person thinking him odd wouldn’t matter.
“Alas yes the forest is my home” he sighed glancing around him at the trees and the forest which had grown dark as the sun past behind a large rain cloud that looked close to bursting.” For the time being, I am to be the Earl of Bonchurch but miserably outlawed but it is not all bad I am not alone. There are a group of up here in the forest, My master and a few others. When you get used to it life’s all right but nothing to the farm fires of bonchurch”, Much’s eyes gleamed with memory as he said his blessed Bonchurch’s name and his heart took a drastic left.
“But tell me My Lady what is it that brings you to such a place and so alone, I mean that is not wise”
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Post by blessie on Mar 28, 2009 13:42:54 GMT 1
‘Blessie it is or on occasion Bless, Bless you.’
A small smile absently tugged at Blessie’s mouth at the man’s garish humour. He, despite the thieving and swordsmanship, was a relatively sweet man by appearance and nature; more suited to a lavish court that a dampening, overtly precarious forest. Blessie could readily imagine the man; adorned to the nines in fruitless yards of lavish silks and velvets, casually parading himself upon an evening or feast. Her grin broadened lightly as she looked upon him; she wasn’t attracted to him, possibly because he still held her jewels but in any other circumstance than this, she could see themselves fervently getting along. It was a shame, she mused that such a man should’ve been condemned to live his lonely life in squalor when such a palatable humour surrounded him and she absently dropped his gaze.
‘For the time being, I am to be the Earl of Bonchurch but miserably outlawed but it is not all bad I am not alone...’
Earl. She absently registered the remainder of his speech as her eyes snapped up, mouth aghast as she choked the words from her mouth. ‘You...You’re an earl ? Why would an earl be slumming himself in the forest Much? Wh...What did you do?’ the words absently spewed from her mouth as her eyes widened in incredulity. Earldoms were scarcely appointed and were not something that would be fleetingly dossed to a peasant, specifically one with a master. The only masters earls had were Dukes and Royalty and surely they would have heard in London if King Richard had absconded to Sherwood.
The thought that a man who had lost such an honour would be content enough to revel in relative destitution was unfathomable. Surely the man would have done everything in his utmost power to regain the prestige, to heave himself from disgrace, no matter how degrading doing so may appear. The sheriff, she knew from her relatively limited experience and erstwhile rumours that plagued London town was hardly one for leniency and yet granting the man the seldom honour of earldom must be something in Much’s favour in the first place.
‘But tell me My Lady what is it that brings you to such a place and so alone, I mean that is not wise’
Her brow furrowed as her pale eyes absently scanned the soft features of the man’s face. His seemingly innocent question did raise a good question, surely the maids around the castle were to have heard about this man and his so called companions. The thought that the English ladies that flocked around her during the relatively sombre court would maliciously send her into peril, irked her. No the thought more than irked her it terrified her. She could have plainly ran into any other man who was not so just as Much and she could be returning to Nottingham with more than missing jewels.
‘I...I was not told, the ladies said it was safe and beautiful and that I should visit. My maids are French and didn’t know so they allowed me to visit on my own. It is just a good thing, I should suppose that I ran into such a virtuous outlaw my lord Much.’ She attempted a feeble smile, fingers absently flirting with her returned bracelet as the image of herself lying alone on the forest floor; bloodied and broken viscously filtered into her mind.
‘Can you walk me back?’ The words blurted incomprehensibly from her mouth as she slammed her lips shut in realisation. She was asking an outlaw to escort her from the brush. Had she suffered an unnoticed bout of insanity in the night? She stuttered, words flitting into her mind as she grappled for something to say. ‘I mean you know the forest better than anyone and I would hate to run into anybody else unprotected.’
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Post by Much on Apr 1, 2009 15:32:19 GMT 1
Much straitened up out of his slouch, squaring his shoulders and puffing his chest out with pride. He always was far too dramatic making even the smallest thing in to a big song and dance number but he was proud of being the Earl or Bonchurch. Really it was “Almost Earl of Bonchurch” because his position hadn’t yet been made official but that was only a minor set back once the king returned he would have his lodge. His toes warmed at the thought as the memory of warm crackling wires and hot baths beside Eve singing there hearts out slipped in and out of his mind. He tied to stay composed as his thoughts lingered on Eve’s perfect smiling face filled with gratitude the night Much had invited all the villagers in to Bonchurch for a feast and a dance. That night he had felt like what he thought Robin must feel like almost every day. To have all those people happily warm and fed dancing arm in arm there cares taking a back seat for one night lifted his heart so high he thought he had lost it.
“Ahh that is a long story and I fear it would bore you my lady.”
Much thought that story was best left for another day, that is if he where every to meet the young lady again. Much had relaxed around Blessie but he was still not quite convinced that she was not a threat to him and the others. Much was bad for blurting things out that got them in to trouble and in he had decided quite recently to try and kick the dangerous habit. The others would say this was barley an accomplishment and just common sense but for Much it was hard work controlling his mouth. Much stopped silently praising himself as the young noble began to speak and his face turned quickly from pride to concern.
“Well they are most certainly” he began but paused as a ramble of very unpleasant words pushed to come out. Although much wasn’t the biggest fan of Nobles he wasn’t about rattle out profanity in such company, he did still have manners. It was disgusting the way some young ladies acted towards each other, what was it Alan had said,” It was a dog eat dog world”. Much hadn’t understood what it had meant and it had irradiated him for a long while.
“Best not to listen to them my lady” He said kindly his eyes full of concern and slight disgust” I suspect they are jealous”.
She wanted him to walk her back to Nottingham? Not the best idea for him but then again he couldn’t let her walk back alone she had been lucky so far but her luck may run out. He couldn’t decline her request as a gentleman he had to walk her back and Much still valued himself as a gentleman although that wasn’t easy in his current occupation. He was sure if some one was to ask all the rich noble he had stolen from they would no doubt call him a common thief, a thug and more unsavoury names. Unsettled by the Ladies malicious act towards blessie Much nodded in agreement and took a few steps in the direction of Nottingham town.
“I can take to the edge of the forest across from the Nottingham gates but I would rather not venture in to the town. I don’t fancy running for my life today” he smiled hopping that his answer would be enough. ”If I may say those ladies sound…sound just offal I wouldn’t listen to a word they say miss. If you dont mins me asking what will you say to them when you retern?”
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Post by blessie on Apr 2, 2009 22:49:45 GMT 1
‘If I may say those ladies sound…sound just awful I wouldn’t listen to a word they say miss. If you don’t mind me asking what will you say to them when you return?’
A light smile played across Blessie’s features as she absently met his eyes, quirking her fair eyebrows poignantly as she contemplated just what exactly she would do to those evil harpies. She was being victimised it seemed, id not or her unquestionable beauty, but for her wit and everlasting stream of gold and wealth. Even her lineage that was so revered was now a source of jealous mockery among the ladies of Nottingham. Perhaps she should have them called up to the sheriff for consorting or aiding outlaws as it were. Yet Blessie, no matter how the rage swelled within her chest she couldn’t readily condemn the wenches to an unjust death.
Turning her face back toward Much she let her smile soften and she inclined her head carefully in the general direction of Nottingham town. ‘I shall no doubt merely threaten them with the sheriff’s wrath or that of my cousin. Of course I should never really have them imprisoned yet I believe a threat will suffice in quelling their gossips.’ She sighed, fingers flirting with the hem of her lavish emerald gown.
Dusk was readily enclosing the clearing, enveloping everything into a midnight haze of topaz and velveteen blue. Her fingers absently pulled against her bodice as she cautiously moved to stand abreast the man that had warmed her heart as she carefully began walking back from the clearing into the thick brush, not looking around to check whether the man was falling in step, but assuming he was. Her voice rang confident and clear through the relative silence of the interminable dominion of the evergreen forests stretching on forever past her cautious view.
‘Tell me my Lord what is it like here in the forest? I have never had the fortune of meeting an outlaw as such and I must say the freedom you seem to exert is fascinating; do you enjoy flouting king and country?’ She attempted to keep the malice from seeping into her woods yet as she rounded of her sentence with visible contempt. She bit her lip, wincing in regret as she furiously attempted to backtrack. ‘I didn’t mean it like that, I’m sure you have a viable reason for becoming an outlaw I just...I just don’t understand why somebody would turn against the law, please enlighten me if you can, I would forever be indebted.’
She smiled tentatively, a fleeting raise of her eyebrows before she stopped and desperation pooled over her features; if he were to leave her then she was no doubt sure she would be attacked again, something she was vehemently trying to avoid. She hadn’t meant to sound abrasive it was just fascinating to the foreigner, that any man nor woman would choose either directly or indirectly to betray their country, to be treasonous, why would anybody accept such a life? Especially when somebody had been merited an earldom in the first place.
‘We have a long walk back my lord, tell me about you’re life, what is it that you do here in the forest? How many are there of you? I do promise that if you answer me some questions I will in turn answer yours, readily.’ She tipped her head toward much, face contorted in a wince as they ambled over the debris that littered the ground before her. It was so fervently interesting that she raised her eyebrows, eager for his response.
OOC: Sorry it's a bit off, I've got a lot on my mind :/
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Post by Much on Apr 3, 2009 16:43:35 GMT 1
"Ahh yes the Sheriff, terrifying" Much said with a hint sarcasm" but I'm sure it will keep them in line and make them think twice before crossing you again. Yes Lady Elizabeth A very good idea,very good idea."
The darkness began to creep up on them, getting ever closer. If they where to reach Nottingham town before the night time thugs came out to play they would have to quicken there pace. Much would rather not have to talk his was out of a brawl if they where to run in to some, he was not to good with words.
‘Tell me my Lord what is it like here in the forest?"
This was a dangerous question for Much and he new it. When answering he was sure to just end up listing all the things he hated work him self in to a bad mood and put a person off talking to him again. He would have to be careful not to do this today he quite enjoyed Blessies company.
"It is not easy it takes allot of work especially in winter"A chill ran threw him as if that winters coldness was coming to life threw his imagination."It gets very cold and dirt gets every where and eventually it becomes impossibles to get out of your clothes. Fires have to be watched all the time and in a wind protected spot which can be harder to find than y ou think. The others they think it easy living here but that is because they are not the ones cleaning cook and keeping everything in order."
There it was the beginning of a long rant. Much caught him self just in time stopping before he went to far. He was also being very careful about giving away to much information of the camp its self. His mind had been so full of his own thoughts that he had almost missed what Blessie had said. "Do you enjoy flouting king and country?’"
"Ohh my Lady thats not what we do at all" he protested but carefully so not to hurt her feelings." We are doing this for King Richard and England. Prince John is the one we are fighting. People like him and sher Sheriff of Nottingham and others who are draining and burning and ripping England apart for power."
How come things never sounded smart when it was Much that said them? Maybe he should take up reading books if there was every time and time was something they didn't have right now. Much drew his cap closer around him trying to block out the cold wind that had begun to blow at there backs.
"We must make hast My Lady but please let me know what you would like to hear. I confess i don't know where to begin.Shall we begin with yourself your life must be far more interesting then my own."
[mine is not great very short and to the point. sorry ]
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