Post by Sir Dmitrii Zurban on May 30, 2008 14:33:55 GMT -6
Father Knows Best
Hours later, Dmitrii sat in the darkest corner of the tavern… the Pubs at Dockside was extremely busy and Gruffold and his new wife had not noticed the dark man in the corner. The lass helping the owners was the only one who saw this bearded man and did not recognize him for she was new. The alcohol content in his bloodstream was far above normal for him, and his steel grey eyes were blurred, yet he took another glass and drank it in one fell swallow.
Dmitrii had steeled his heart once again after tonight… It was not what he wanted but who… the farmer girl who made him smile… who now worked in the kitchen of the Lord of the Isles, his best friend no less… but the lass would have nothing to do with him… she had made that quite clear… The glass found its way to the fireplace not far away… then he motions to the lass for yet another.
Standing, he shook his head to clear the cobwebs… and with one step, stumbled and knocked over a table… Quickly apologizing… “Iz vehenti…” his words slurred, the language incoherent. The man who now wore his drink, stood… he was a mountain of a man and pushed Dmi away cursing about what Dmi had said… - a mistaken understanding of words – as Dmi stepped forward, the large man swung at him… even drunk as he was, he was a good fighter... ducking and swinging a fist to the big man’s crotch… then spinning and bringing an elbowed forearm to the large man’s nose as he bent over in pain… the large man flew backwards onto a table, breaking it into pieces…
The crash scattered people… except for two of the large man’s friends… who stood and drew daggers… Dmitrii quickly reached at his belt and found no dagger… then over his shoulder for his twin blades… nothing. The two men smiled… then one lunged at Dmi, who spun away and jumped over the table at the unexpecting second man… who hit the floor hard, followed by two fists rapidly striking his face… then with a push of his legs, Dmi rolled head first away, coming up to face the lone man… Dmi smirked wickedly and spoke softly… “Da vie, padla…” [come on, stupid]. Not understanding the man gritted his teeth and screamed as he lunged at Dmi…
One swipe of a blade, Dmi jumped back but not in time to feel his clothing get cut and his belly sting. Angering him more than he already was, he threw a chair at the man then rushed him… tackling him full force to the ground knocking the knife from the man’s hand… the man just lay still, the wind knocked from him. Dmitrii stood, then spit at the man as was the Rus custom of degradation, just as something hit him from behind, dropping him to the floor.
The Chief Bailiff then ordered his men to carry Dmitrii straight to dungeon to sober up.
With the disturbance down in one of the dives… Odis and his men moved at a leisurely pace to break it up. With the night being as it was… he had assumed that both Dmitrii and his Daughter were off enjoying each other's company. Of course, at the sight of seeing Dmitrii in such a state? The bailiff frowned and gathered up the young man none to kindly and shoved him out the door. The dark dull brown eyes stared at him a long moment before he assured the guards that he, himself, would be seeing to the transportation of the knight to the stocks. "I've got this you men go and finish the rounds."
One of the men as they walked by the fierce drunken Russian, one muttered his sympathies for having to go with just the Bailiff. Odis moved Dmitrii right along, though not towards the stocks… there was a central fountain of sorts… a place where those within the city got their water. Odis didn't bother with glancing around as he caught the back of the man's neck… and with a quick push forward, dosing the drunken heartbroken man's head with water. He stepped back letting Dmitrii bring himself up with the usual amount of sputtering and curses. Meanwhile Odis folded those ham hock arms of his across his chest.
One moment he was victorious in the fight, the next he was drowning in water… what the hell had transpired in between… His curly hair now matted by the wetness, streamlets of water poured down his face… Drawing in a sudden inhalation of air, he shook his head to clear the daze and the water. Once the eyes focused, Dmi saw Odis his large arms folded across his broad chest… a sudden emotion of dread erupted in him… all he did was close his eyes and stick his head back in the water, shaking the hard object attached to his shoulders, stirring up the water. Hoping the man had gone away, he pulled his head from the fountain and saw he still remained. Dmi just turned and sat down. “Pezdyetz…” he cursed softly in Russian….
"I am quite certain there is a reason you are drinking and fighting like a fool… instead of enjoying the company of my daughter… and… before I go back to the castle and find her crying into a her pillow… why don't you tell me what the hell is going on?" He inquired with a small arch of that brow. The words were rather conversational, however the expression on the man's face was flat and the eyes, didn't hold judgment, just idle curiosity.
Dmi sat on the edge of the fountain base, his hair matted, streamlets of water finalizing at his cheekbone, then dripping to the ground. He looks up to the large man… “Aye M’Lord… I would much prefer the company of yer daughter… she keeps me sailing straight… but…” he looks down with a heavy sigh…
“Questions, and my stupidity caused all this M’Lord…” he looks up at him again… “We were having a good time… she had prepared a fine dinner… just us two… enjoying each other’s company…” he would tell her Father the truth… “Then after a bit of conversation… she asks me about the women I frequented…” he looks down… the boot pushing around loose rocks… “I told her the truth… and the conversation deteriorated from there…”
Odis listened with the impassive expression, before the eyes looked away from him to view across the square. The sigh came as he turned and seated himself next to Dmitrii. Again the man didn't look at him but ran a hand over the bald head of his. The stoic man actually chuckled for the idea of actually telling his daughter something of that nature. The thick hand lifted and patted the man on the shoulder.
After a long pause and a deep breath, he looks up at Odis… “She has my heart M’Lord… and my best intentions…” with a forced smile… “My past is what it is… and I shall never lie to her…” He bent over, his hands wiping the water from his hair.
"A word of advice when dealing with Willa, the girl has more questions then a lass should. While she appreciates the truth… She doesn't always quite understand the world around her." That… and Odis had no idea how much of his beloved's past she had shared with Willa. That was something he needed to find out himself. "She will take everything you say as truth. Regardless how outlandish it may seem, And… what Claria has told me, she isn't having an easy go of adjusting to falsehood of the courts. " Clairia was the upstairs maid there at the castle. He wasn't sure how much Willa was sharing with Dmitrii, and the one thing Odis had found out on his own... his daughter got a lion's share of his pride.
It was the first time that Odis had seen Dmitrii without his swords attached to his person, or farther than a hand’s grasp away… even that day at the cabin, his swords were close, but now they were absent.
The hand had left his shoulder as Odis stood slowly to his feet. Looking over Dmitrii then frowned slightly. "Where are your blades? You didn't leave them back at the tavern did you?" He frowned as he jutted a thumb back over his shoulder. It was unusual to see the man distraught... but at the same time it was as if stepping back into a past that should have never been for himself. Brittany on more then one occasion had brought Odis to such a place… unable to think correctly... or feel as though his heart had been firmly ripped from his chest and offered up to whatever heathen gods as a gift. Women… they were beautiful, delicate… venomous little creatures.
Dmi had listened to the older man’s words, and nodded in their understanding… he could only listen as his heart ached… he wanted to rush to her… to hold her once again… but her rejection would have been devastating… and that he feared most… her rejection.
Looking up from his thoughts, he shook his head… “Nay M’Lord… “ shaking his head remembering… “I last saw them at the blanket with Willa… I removed them as we sat…” looking back down, speaking softly… again his mind ran back to the hours of earlier with Willa and a smile attempted to break his face.
With a glance up to the large man…. “M’Lord, tis late… I shall be alright… yu need to go and spend time with yer daughter… dawn will be breaking soon…” nodding a bit… “I shall be alright…”
"Very well" He gave a nod and pushed himself up with a soft grunt. The dull eyes looked again to the lad. "Go... sleep... it is very likely she needed time to understand you are not perfect. After all she has talked of nothing but you... it is hard to see flaws in the man she placed upon a pedestal so far above all others." He reminded him quietly. He liked Dmitrii, the man had a soul... he fought like a demon... and whether he liked it or not... the young man had the heart of hers wrapped up tightly in his own hands. "I need to go and speak with my daughter. " With that the bald bailiff nodded and set off. The sigh came as he shook his head, walking down the street, keeping his chuckles beneath his breath. Thankfully he was far too old for such foolishness of the heart.
Hours later, Dmitrii sat in the darkest corner of the tavern… the Pubs at Dockside was extremely busy and Gruffold and his new wife had not noticed the dark man in the corner. The lass helping the owners was the only one who saw this bearded man and did not recognize him for she was new. The alcohol content in his bloodstream was far above normal for him, and his steel grey eyes were blurred, yet he took another glass and drank it in one fell swallow.
Dmitrii had steeled his heart once again after tonight… It was not what he wanted but who… the farmer girl who made him smile… who now worked in the kitchen of the Lord of the Isles, his best friend no less… but the lass would have nothing to do with him… she had made that quite clear… The glass found its way to the fireplace not far away… then he motions to the lass for yet another.
Standing, he shook his head to clear the cobwebs… and with one step, stumbled and knocked over a table… Quickly apologizing… “Iz vehenti…” his words slurred, the language incoherent. The man who now wore his drink, stood… he was a mountain of a man and pushed Dmi away cursing about what Dmi had said… - a mistaken understanding of words – as Dmi stepped forward, the large man swung at him… even drunk as he was, he was a good fighter... ducking and swinging a fist to the big man’s crotch… then spinning and bringing an elbowed forearm to the large man’s nose as he bent over in pain… the large man flew backwards onto a table, breaking it into pieces…
The crash scattered people… except for two of the large man’s friends… who stood and drew daggers… Dmitrii quickly reached at his belt and found no dagger… then over his shoulder for his twin blades… nothing. The two men smiled… then one lunged at Dmi, who spun away and jumped over the table at the unexpecting second man… who hit the floor hard, followed by two fists rapidly striking his face… then with a push of his legs, Dmi rolled head first away, coming up to face the lone man… Dmi smirked wickedly and spoke softly… “Da vie, padla…” [come on, stupid]. Not understanding the man gritted his teeth and screamed as he lunged at Dmi…
One swipe of a blade, Dmi jumped back but not in time to feel his clothing get cut and his belly sting. Angering him more than he already was, he threw a chair at the man then rushed him… tackling him full force to the ground knocking the knife from the man’s hand… the man just lay still, the wind knocked from him. Dmitrii stood, then spit at the man as was the Rus custom of degradation, just as something hit him from behind, dropping him to the floor.
The Chief Bailiff then ordered his men to carry Dmitrii straight to dungeon to sober up.
With the disturbance down in one of the dives… Odis and his men moved at a leisurely pace to break it up. With the night being as it was… he had assumed that both Dmitrii and his Daughter were off enjoying each other's company. Of course, at the sight of seeing Dmitrii in such a state? The bailiff frowned and gathered up the young man none to kindly and shoved him out the door. The dark dull brown eyes stared at him a long moment before he assured the guards that he, himself, would be seeing to the transportation of the knight to the stocks. "I've got this you men go and finish the rounds."
One of the men as they walked by the fierce drunken Russian, one muttered his sympathies for having to go with just the Bailiff. Odis moved Dmitrii right along, though not towards the stocks… there was a central fountain of sorts… a place where those within the city got their water. Odis didn't bother with glancing around as he caught the back of the man's neck… and with a quick push forward, dosing the drunken heartbroken man's head with water. He stepped back letting Dmitrii bring himself up with the usual amount of sputtering and curses. Meanwhile Odis folded those ham hock arms of his across his chest.
One moment he was victorious in the fight, the next he was drowning in water… what the hell had transpired in between… His curly hair now matted by the wetness, streamlets of water poured down his face… Drawing in a sudden inhalation of air, he shook his head to clear the daze and the water. Once the eyes focused, Dmi saw Odis his large arms folded across his broad chest… a sudden emotion of dread erupted in him… all he did was close his eyes and stick his head back in the water, shaking the hard object attached to his shoulders, stirring up the water. Hoping the man had gone away, he pulled his head from the fountain and saw he still remained. Dmi just turned and sat down. “Pezdyetz…” he cursed softly in Russian….
"I am quite certain there is a reason you are drinking and fighting like a fool… instead of enjoying the company of my daughter… and… before I go back to the castle and find her crying into a her pillow… why don't you tell me what the hell is going on?" He inquired with a small arch of that brow. The words were rather conversational, however the expression on the man's face was flat and the eyes, didn't hold judgment, just idle curiosity.
Dmi sat on the edge of the fountain base, his hair matted, streamlets of water finalizing at his cheekbone, then dripping to the ground. He looks up to the large man… “Aye M’Lord… I would much prefer the company of yer daughter… she keeps me sailing straight… but…” he looks down with a heavy sigh…
“Questions, and my stupidity caused all this M’Lord…” he looks up at him again… “We were having a good time… she had prepared a fine dinner… just us two… enjoying each other’s company…” he would tell her Father the truth… “Then after a bit of conversation… she asks me about the women I frequented…” he looks down… the boot pushing around loose rocks… “I told her the truth… and the conversation deteriorated from there…”
Odis listened with the impassive expression, before the eyes looked away from him to view across the square. The sigh came as he turned and seated himself next to Dmitrii. Again the man didn't look at him but ran a hand over the bald head of his. The stoic man actually chuckled for the idea of actually telling his daughter something of that nature. The thick hand lifted and patted the man on the shoulder.
After a long pause and a deep breath, he looks up at Odis… “She has my heart M’Lord… and my best intentions…” with a forced smile… “My past is what it is… and I shall never lie to her…” He bent over, his hands wiping the water from his hair.
"A word of advice when dealing with Willa, the girl has more questions then a lass should. While she appreciates the truth… She doesn't always quite understand the world around her." That… and Odis had no idea how much of his beloved's past she had shared with Willa. That was something he needed to find out himself. "She will take everything you say as truth. Regardless how outlandish it may seem, And… what Claria has told me, she isn't having an easy go of adjusting to falsehood of the courts. " Clairia was the upstairs maid there at the castle. He wasn't sure how much Willa was sharing with Dmitrii, and the one thing Odis had found out on his own... his daughter got a lion's share of his pride.
It was the first time that Odis had seen Dmitrii without his swords attached to his person, or farther than a hand’s grasp away… even that day at the cabin, his swords were close, but now they were absent.
The hand had left his shoulder as Odis stood slowly to his feet. Looking over Dmitrii then frowned slightly. "Where are your blades? You didn't leave them back at the tavern did you?" He frowned as he jutted a thumb back over his shoulder. It was unusual to see the man distraught... but at the same time it was as if stepping back into a past that should have never been for himself. Brittany on more then one occasion had brought Odis to such a place… unable to think correctly... or feel as though his heart had been firmly ripped from his chest and offered up to whatever heathen gods as a gift. Women… they were beautiful, delicate… venomous little creatures.
Dmi had listened to the older man’s words, and nodded in their understanding… he could only listen as his heart ached… he wanted to rush to her… to hold her once again… but her rejection would have been devastating… and that he feared most… her rejection.
Looking up from his thoughts, he shook his head… “Nay M’Lord… “ shaking his head remembering… “I last saw them at the blanket with Willa… I removed them as we sat…” looking back down, speaking softly… again his mind ran back to the hours of earlier with Willa and a smile attempted to break his face.
With a glance up to the large man…. “M’Lord, tis late… I shall be alright… yu need to go and spend time with yer daughter… dawn will be breaking soon…” nodding a bit… “I shall be alright…”
"Very well" He gave a nod and pushed himself up with a soft grunt. The dull eyes looked again to the lad. "Go... sleep... it is very likely she needed time to understand you are not perfect. After all she has talked of nothing but you... it is hard to see flaws in the man she placed upon a pedestal so far above all others." He reminded him quietly. He liked Dmitrii, the man had a soul... he fought like a demon... and whether he liked it or not... the young man had the heart of hers wrapped up tightly in his own hands. "I need to go and speak with my daughter. " With that the bald bailiff nodded and set off. The sigh came as he shook his head, walking down the street, keeping his chuckles beneath his breath. Thankfully he was far too old for such foolishness of the heart.