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Post by Lilystar88 on Jan 18, 2017 16:40:29 GMT -5
[[ ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ fabulous. I'll add them on the wall straight away. I was thinking of taking up Margaret Tudor and Catherine of Aragon as shared characters. Any particular plots you want to work out or should I come up with something?]]
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Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Jan 18, 2017 16:43:57 GMT -5
(Thanks!
Well, I don't have anything in mind, so if you wouldn't mind coming up with something I'd appreciate it)
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Post by Lilystar88 on Jan 18, 2017 16:50:12 GMT -5
I work for Guide Dogs, means I'm out in the cold a lot and its just draining.)
She returned to her work, all of the increased traffic had spread straw all over the pathways between stalls. She was incredibly fussy when it came to the cleanliness of her stables, which seemed a little counter productive when you considered how quickly the area got dirty. She was clearing the pile in to a barrow when the red stallion came barging through the door. Much like his owner the stallion was brutish and loud, whinnying to the other horses in the stable and causing a fuss.
"Easy boy." She said grasping his reins and leading him in to his stall, quickly removing his tack. HIs flanks were coated in sweat, a sign the Prince had ridden him hard. It meant more work for her now and she cursed him under her breath. She got to work quickly, sponging down his flanks and brushing him off before pulling a rug over him, having to tip toe to reach.
She could hear the two conversing outside but she didn't care enough to listen in, nt when she was so busy. She smiled to herself as she worked, thinking back to her conversation. It was a morbid topic and one that could get them both killed, but it made such a nice change to have someone to speak to who knew more than a handful of words.
She ran a soft comb through the stallions black mane, the horse seemed to calm below her touch. It looked around at her and she began to sing softly to it. Tall ears fixed on her for a moment before its head lowered in relaxation. "You're a sweet boy under all that bad behavior." She said before letting herself out of the stall. She jumped as she almost walked directly into Richard.
"Are you trying to kill me!" She exclaimed, not having expected to see him until much later. She was about to scold him further when he spoke. Her heart sunk at his words, they had been left with no time to deal with this issue. "Well he sure does move fast." She said sternly. "We need to come up with a plan, sooner rather than later." She still held out hope that the grey mare would throw the vile French woman and solve the issue for them. [[Ahh nah that makes sense. It must be rewarding work though. I'm just doing college atm]] Richard cracked a smile -- his fondness for her speed and down-to-earthness was only growing, which meant he couldn't let her go through with the Would-Be-King's ridiculous plan. No -- he'd need to solve it on his own. He shook his head and grabbed a hold of her arm. "Brinn, there's nothing you can do. It's too dangerous now -- and I just can't see you get hurt if things go wrong I--" he paused. His words were gone again. At times like these, he fell back upon what was classed as 'proper'. Straightening his doublet and holding his head up he said "I would not be a gentleman or a christian if I did so," he lied, denying the truth as much to himself as he was to Brinn. He cared for the girl, whether it be as a friend or something more, he cared for her. And he wasn't about to let Henry ruin her life, even if he was trying to butcher both himself and Richard in the same week. [[Soz for shortness, I'll get longer as plot moves forward]]
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Post by Lilystar88 on Jan 18, 2017 16:58:14 GMT -5
(Thanks! Well, I don't have anything in mind, so if you wouldn't mind coming up with something I'd appreciate it) [[Well, a rough idea I had in mind was that Margaret Tudor could come down to England for the death of her father, but when she's down hears from Marion that Catherine of Aragon is expecting to marry Henry once the King dies. She's outraged at this and tries to interfere, behind the scenes, by bribing Marion to help her in some sort of plan that fails and results in Margaret being sent back to Scotland, infuriated and stuff. That's a kind of rough idea, but does it sound like it could be something you're interested in?]]
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Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Jan 18, 2017 17:01:37 GMT -5
(OMG that sounds amazing yes let's do it!
I'm literally so excited for this)
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Post by Lilystar88 on Jan 18, 2017 17:21:46 GMT -5
(OMG that sounds amazing yes let's do it! I'm literally so excited for this) [[ lol no pressure then xD I'll start.]] It had been a hard three weeks on horseback, surrounded by only a handful of guards -- having to lie to the court about where she was. All except her husband knew. He was a kind man, surprisingly for a Scot, and had begrudgingly let her go to witness the death of her father. How had she known? God, of course. Her relationship with god was purer than most, especially for a woman. He had told her the date of her father's death, and she had planned to see him -- but now she couldn't. Not now. Not now that she had missed her second monthly bleed. Not now, that she was with child. She paced around her chamber in Richmond palace, admiring the crimson velvet around the four-postared bed and the carvings in the woodwork of the tudor rose. Her fingertips traced over the memory -- images flooded back. Father, leaving for campaigns on the war, her mother teaching her to crochet the rose into tapestries, the wax seal on every letter she'd received from her father. It had been a beautiful life, really. A life that, despite her husband in Scotland, she missed. The Scottish Queen went to her window, opening the latticed glass and breathing in the fresh air. Fresh air would be good for the baby. The sky was alight with beautiful oranges, creaming into pinky reds -- the glory of England, the glory of an english sunset, reinvigorating her memory with it's magnificence. Caught up in the memories, she did something she hadn't done since she was a girl. Something her father always let her do, but her mother, and all her governesses, chastised as 'unladylike'. She put two feet out of the window and climbed down the ivy trains until she plopped onto the ground. It was a little harder in a corset and a proper gown, but she managed it all the same. After the act she felt so alive again -- perhaps that life, would be embedded into her child. She looked down at her stomach, caught up in different memories now -- ones of pain, and mourning. "Perhaps you'll be stronger than your brother and sister. Perhaps you'll live," After she looked up, she realized alone. Some woman stood before her -- a woman with ivory skin and blonde hair. No one she recognized, so not a royal. But still, it was not something she wanted anyone to hear. "I-I-Forgive me, I-- I don't know what I was saying, I--" The usually flawlessly spoken and characteristic Scottish Queen was now stumped for words.
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Post by Lilystar88 on Jan 18, 2017 17:32:13 GMT -5
"Don't you dare." There was a fire in her bright green eyes as he tried to distance her. "After everything you've told me there is no way I'm standing aside now." She folded her arms as though to punctuate her sentence. Her hair fell lose, framing her face with russet red curls. He grasped at her arm and she was tempted to pull away but something stopped her. "I'm no lady, you really think I care if it's the 'Christian' thing to do. I'm involved if you like it or not." There was a roughness to her tone that said she wouldn't be argued with on this point.
As though in agreement the dark horse in the far stall whinnied, its head pushed over the door to watch the two conversing humans. "So I'll ask again. Have you got a plan?" A smile quirked at her lips as she said it, studying his face. She knew it wasn't a womans place to speak back to a man but that had never stopped her, much to her fathers disdain. Richard's mouth gaped. How, just how? Was there no end to this woman's vigor and why on earth did it just make her more remarkable?! The questions were so unanswerable he let his frustration build up until he snapped out in anger. "Fine! Fine, the King is getting married in three days time and wants me to go with him. More so, thanks to my ar*e of a mouth I happened to imply that we were involved in some sort of...entanglement. So he thinks we're courting and wants us to come along as 'witnesses', so then he suggested we get married and because he is virtually the King I couldn't argue back so, what do you say. You're a seemingly gorgeous young stablehand who is both the most annoying thing and the most incredible thing I've ever met, and who is clearly a protestant, and I'm a catholic chamber-boy who can't seem to stand up to a simple Marquess but what do you say want to get married?!" He was still talking fast and snappily by the end. But once he had finished, he stopped and realized what he just said. He'd just asked the girl he met less than a few hours ago to marry him. To marry him. Everything was silent. Even the horses seemed to be looking at him in utter confusion -- like they'd lock him up in a mad-house. The flies stopped buzzing, the straw stopped tumbling in the wind -- because there was no wind. There was just silent, utter confusion. His face was as red as beetroot. "At least pretend to be in love and get married so we can tag along on a three day journey and stop Annette Roux somehow," he finished, stepping back and smoothing his hair over in an attempt to calm his wild, wild nerves.
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Post by Lilystar88 on Jan 18, 2017 18:32:02 GMT -5
For a moment she was stumped for what to say. His words had poured out so fast and frantically that she almost wasn't sure she had heard him correctly. "First of all." She paused, trying to figure out where to start in response to that insane monologue. "I'm not a protestant, I don't even know why my religion matters so much to you." A strange place to start perhaps but it wasn't every day she got proposed to by a boy she had just met.
The rest with the King and his ludicrous plans all kind of made sense, what had her stuck was his description of her. Did he say gorgeous? She was flattered and her face flushed red, with a mixture of embarrassment and joy. "I don't think you would want to marry someone who would annoy you either." She said teasing him now. It was clear he was embarrassed, his face couldn't get any redder and it was actually kind of cute that he had gotten himself in such a state.
She placed a hand on his shoulder, a smile on her face. "You know its really not normal to propose to someone you just met. Even if they are 'incredible'" She was deliberately baiting him now, finding amusement in his flustered state. "We can play along, it gives us access to the pair. Time to work something out. I mean the obvious solution is some kind of accident." It was perhaps a drastic solution but undoubtedly effective. "I wouldn't know how to get her to mess up." "So...you're a....what?" he asked, very clearly she wasn't catholic. "Religion matters to me so much because it is only just to worship the one true go-- Alright, it matters so much to me because it makes sense -- helps me fit in with the world. And I don't like the idea of never seeing my loved ones again because they slip away fast thanks to diseases such as consumption," he admitted, lowering his head. He fidgeted with a piece of straw that flew between his fingers -- as the wind had started up again. There was more to that story, but it was not for this time. "B-But as for you being annoying. Well, I meant that in a different way, like an arous-- god, no, that's not what I meant." He pressed his finger to his forehead, left and right shoulder and sternum again, silently praying that god would bring his words back. He was known as one of the most precise and polite chamber-boys in the dying King's establishum. Yet, Brinn seemed to unravel him all together. "What I meant was, you're annoying -- Yes. But it's only because you're so honest. Honesty, the truth, is terrifying, especially if you're not used to dealing with it." Finally, that left only one subject left. It wasn't a hard one, it didn't make him fluster as much. It was something he could do. With a deep breath in, kind of thankful he agreed to the 'proposal', he started to talk. "Yes...quite. I think it would be -- but perhaps there's a different way, a way to get the King to see the truth. No doubt, he has not taken her yet -- if he had he'd know she was not a virgin. Perhaps if he could see that before the wedding...or something, I don't know. Either way, do you know how to make camp and travel for a number of days?"
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Bisexual
Kurai
I can't answer why... I'm a blackstar...★
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Post by Kurai on Jan 18, 2017 19:01:22 GMT -5
"I don't see why it matters what I believe. My Father is Catholic, My Mother wasn't." She softened a little as he spoke, she had a better understanding of why he focused on his belief and she was one of the few people who actually respected what people believed. She knew there was more he wasn't yet willing to share and she wouldn't press him to say more. If he wanted to talk he would do so in his own time. She got the feeling, whether right or wrong, that he was a lonely soul. So involved in his work that he didn't have time to form meaningful relations. A mirror of her own life perhaps.
Once more the smirk touched her lips at his near slip. She supposed he believed he was being crude, that soft spoken side of him showing through once more. "I've never known honesty to be annoying. But I suppose when you live amongst the countries greatest liars it is something new." It was one of the things she remembered her mother teaching her, honesty would prevail over all else. She didn't know if that was true but she lived her life on that principle. Perhaps that was what had lead her to this very situation, getting proposed to by a near stranger.
"Do you know if that is true. I would think it likely is, but if something is true it is easier to prove." She ran her hands through her hair as she pondered on what they were to do. She was surprised at herself, only that morning she had been glad that she had very little information or desire to influence the royals. Now she had been dragged in to a plot that could easily end with them being killed. "Camping and traveling is the easy part. I guess you may need those riding lessons sooner rather than later." She chuckled stroking the muzzle of one of the horses who had been curious of the two humans conversing in their barn and extended its nose to the girl. "I don't think I could marry a man that doesn't know how to ride." She taunted.
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Post by Lilystar88 on Jan 18, 2017 19:17:19 GMT -5
"I don't see why it matters what I believe. My Father is Catholic, My Mother wasn't." She softened a little as he spoke, she had a better understanding of why he focused on his belief and she was one of the few people who actually respected what people believed. She knew there was more he wasn't yet willing to share and she wouldn't press him to say more. If he wanted to talk he would do so in his own time. She got the feeling, whether right or wrong, that he was a lonely soul. So involved in his work that he didn't have time to form meaningful relations. A mirror of her own life perhaps.
Once more the smirk touched her lips at his near slip. She supposed he believed he was being crude, that soft spoken side of him showing through once more. "I've never known honesty to be annoying. But I suppose when you live amongst the countries greatest liars it is something new." It was one of the things she remembered her mother teaching her, honesty would prevail over all else. She didn't know if that was true but she lived her life on that principle. Perhaps that was what had lead her to this very situation, getting proposed to by a near stranger.
"Do you know if that is true. I would think it likely is, but if something is true it is easier to prove." She ran her hands through her hair as she pondered on what they were to do. She was surprised at herself, only that morning she had been glad that she had very little information or desire to influence the royals. Now she had been dragged in to a plot that could easily end with them being killed. "Camping and traveling is the easy part. I guess you may need those riding lessons sooner rather than later." She chuckled stroking the muzzle of one of the horses who had been curious of the two humans conversing in their barn and extended its nose to the girl. "I don't think I could marry a man that doesn't know how to ride." She taunted. "Same. My mother didn't believe in God after she had me," he said, tilting his head a little. He decided to say no more on the subject. Brinn still had secrets, he knew that, but he'd discover them in time. Besides, only the most interesting of women had secrets to keep so she was no flimsy soul. Just another one of the things he...admired about her. But he just couldn't keep his composer when she said the countries greatest liars'. He tried not to, but he did laugh. He really did laugh. Not only at the fact that the truth in the statement was sublime, also because any other of the chamber-boys would piss themselves in fear if they'd heard her. But he'd seen and been around every member of the court to know one thing -- they did lie. They lied a lot. And their lies didn't fall on deaf ears, they fell on the ears of the lowly servants. "She slept with his father, remember," he replied. He knew that Annette Roux wasn't a virgin, but would Henry know? He was still a boy himself, he can't have had that many women. "Besides, she's french," he ended on, with just a hint of a smirk as the statement was in itself obvious enough. He looked up to the horse she stroked, a little daunted. But then he remembered his composure, and was determined to prove to Brinn that he wasn't a complete mess. He smiled, just a hint of something wild in his eyes -- a freckle of adventurousness he had thought lost long ago. He popped his head outside and whistled over one of the lower stable boys. "Run to the porch-guard and tell him to find Philip, attendant to the King. Tell him he's to pack Richard camping supplies and he's not to ask any questions," he said, tossing him four farthings at the same time. "One for you, one for the porch guard, and two for Philip." Well, that was expensive he complained to himself, but didn't let Brinn see that. Turning back, he walked up to her, edging just an inch close than he had before. "Well, I guess you'll need to teach me," he said, smoother than he had been in all their conversations previously. The statement was something of a challenge -- he was going to prove that he could learn to ride a horse. And prove that if under some bizarre circumstance Brinn ever considered him to be more than a friend, he could learn to be the lover of a stable-hand just as good as he was King's attendant.
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Post by Lilystar88 on Jan 18, 2017 19:25:18 GMT -5
[[Lol I totally planned for this char to be different but you so a good stablehand <3 yeah I getcha, I should have been asleep two hours ago but rping is too fun . I might sleep too. ttyt.]]
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Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Jan 19, 2017 2:21:45 GMT -5
(OMG that sounds amazing yes let's do it! I'm literally so excited for this) [[ lol no pressure then xD I'll start.]] It had been a hard three weeks on horseback, surrounded by only a handful of guards -- having to lie to the court about where she was. All except her husband knew. He was a kind man, surprisingly for a Scot, and had begrudgingly let her go to witness the death of her father. How had she known? God, of course. Her relationship with god was purer than most, especially for a woman. He had told her the date of her father's death, and she had planned to see him -- but now she couldn't. Not now. Not now that she had missed her second monthly bleed. Not now, that she was with child. She paced around her chamber in Richmond palace, admiring the crimson velvet around the four-postared bed and the carvings in the woodwork of the tudor rose. Her fingertips traced over the memory -- images flooded back. Father, leaving for campaigns on the war, her mother teaching her to crochet the rose into tapestries, the wax seal on every letter she'd received from her father. It had been a beautiful life, really. A life that, despite her husband in Scotland, she missed. The Scottish Queen went to her window, opening the latticed glass and breathing in the fresh air. Fresh air would be good for the baby. The sky was alight with beautiful oranges, creaming into pinky reds -- the glory of England, the glory of an english sunset, reinvigorating her memory with it's magnificence. Caught up in the memories, she did something she hadn't done since she was a girl. Something her father always let her do, but her mother, and all her governesses, chastised as 'unladylike'. She put two feet out of the window and climbed down the ivy trains until she plopped onto the ground. It was a little harder in a corset and a proper gown, but she managed it all the same. After the act she felt so alive again -- perhaps that life, would be embedded into her child. She looked down at her stomach, caught up in different memories now -- ones of pain, and mourning. "Perhaps you'll be stronger than your brother and sister. Perhaps you'll live," After she looked up, she realized alone. Some woman stood before her -- a woman with ivory skin and blonde hair. No one she recognized, so not a royal. But still, it was not something she wanted anyone to hear. "I-I-Forgive me, I-- I don't know what I was saying, I--" The usually flawlessly spoken and characteristic Scottish Queen was now stumped for words. It seemed that young Marion Sheffield had chosen a very beautiful evening to walk in the gardens. The air was sweet and heady with the scent of the fragrant flowers, there was a soft breeze, and the sky was covered with the most vibrant tones of salmon pink and oranges so bright they might as well have been flames. It really was a very beautiful evening for a stroll. The reason Marion was out here was that she desperately needed to clear her head and to take a break a little bit. The nightly festivities would be starting before long and that meant a night of music, dancing, receiving uncomfortable looks from various lords and generally just trying to compete with the other ladies. This was a once in a lifetime chance, a prince coming to the throne, because with a new king meant a new mistress (or two) and the higher you were in the socal hierarchy of the courts when the prince was coronated, the more likely you would be to be chosen as his mistress. And that meant big things indeed for anyone who was chosen. Being chosen as a mistresss meant that they could have power and influence over the King almost equal to the Queen's. And if you influenced the King, you essentially controlled the country. Not only this, but if anything were to happen to the Queen, the mistress would be the natural choice to replace her. So all the more status and influence for the chosen lady, in that case. Marion's thoughts were interrupted when she was a figure climbing down from a window. And it was a woman, too. Well, how unladylike that was. She couldn't think of anything more unladylike, actually. And strange, too. It isn't like the windows were the only way to get down, so why was she choosing to do that? It was only when she got closer that she realised that the woman was actually the Scottish queen, and she dipped into a curtsey as the queen apologised for the words she has been speaking before, words which would have been gossip-worthy if Msrion was a gossip. Luckily for the queen, she wasn't. "No need to apologise, Your Majesty, it is quite alright," Marion replied with a smile "Lady Marion Sheffield, pleased to make your acquaintance. I was not aware you would be at the court today"
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Bisexual
Kurai
I can't answer why... I'm a blackstar...★
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Post by Kurai on Jan 19, 2017 6:55:09 GMT -5
She dipped her head listening to him, finding her mind wandering to why the birth of a child would change what you believed in. She pushed the thought aside for now, it wasn't her place to ask. Her surprise sparked in her eyes as he laughed, not sure what she had said that was funny.
She let him laugh to himself, the amusement bringing the smile back to her lips. "The Prince will need to tell his father of his intentions, right? Is the King too sick to speak?" She didn't know the extent of their King's condition, but she knew consumption was a tricky disease. She saw him looking at the horse, smiling softly. It was so obvious when faced with someone who hadn't spent time around these creatures.
She had been distracted fixing the horses rug that had twisted slightly, and only heard him call for his camping supplies to be retrieved. He returned to her, seeming to have calmed somewhat from his earlier state. His comment bought a smirk back to her face. "Well there is no time like the present. I assume our Prince wants to move fast." She said turning away and moving in to the tack room. The room smelt of leather and beeswax, it was one of her favourite rooms and more often than not this was where she opted to sleep. It saved having to face her father.
She cast her eyes about her at the different saddles, trying to think who was the best horse to teach a total novice. She muttered softly to herself as she thought.
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Post by Lilystar88 on Jan 19, 2017 8:32:02 GMT -5
It seemed that young Marion Sheffield had chosen a very beautiful evening to walk in the gardens. The air was sweet and heady with the scent of the fragrant flowers, there was a soft breeze, and the sky was covered with the most vibrant tones of salmon pink and oranges so bright they might as well have been flames. It really was a very beautiful evening for a stroll. The reason Marion was out here was that she desperately needed to clear her head and to take a break a little bit. The nightly festivities would be starting before long and that meant a night of music, dancing, receiving uncomfortable looks from various lords and generally just trying to compete with the other ladies. This was a once in a lifetime chance, a prince coming to the throne, because with a new king meant a new mistress (or two) and the higher you were in the socal hierarchy of the courts when the prince was coronated, the more likely you would be to be chosen as his mistress. And that meant big things indeed for anyone who was chosen. Being chosen as a mistresss meant that they could have power and influence over the King almost equal to the Queen's. And if you influenced the King, you essentially controlled the country. Not only this, but if anything were to happen to the Queen, the mistress would be the natural choice to replace her. So all the more status and influence for the chosen lady, in that case. Marion's thoughts were interrupted when she was a figure climbing down from a window. And it was a woman, too. Well, how unladylike that was. She couldn't think of anything more unladylike, actually. And strange, too. It isn't like the windows were the only way to get down, so why was she choosing to do that? It was only when she got closer that she realised that the woman was actually the Scottish queen, and she dipped into a curtsey as the queen apologised for the words she has been speaking before, words which would have been gossip-worthy if Msrion was a gossip. Luckily for the queen, she wasn't. "No need to apologise, Your Majesty, it is quite alright," Marion replied with a smile "Lady Marion Sheffield, pleased to make your acquaintance. I was not aware you would be at the court today" "It was rather a quick decision," Margaret said, after dipping politely in response to the curtsy. "I was....alerted, to my father's illness, and wished to say my last goodbyes," she added, hoping the change of subject would distract the lady from her appalling window-climbing behavior earlier. Of course, the risk was calculated. Had she done anything more vulgar a bribe or a threat might have been necessary. But for just some odd behavior, and a rumor of being with child, was not enough to warrant such measures. Perhaps she would have decided differently, if she'd sensed something different off of Marion -- but when she looked to the ocean blue eyes she did not see a flimsy girl, perhaps an ambitious girl, but not a cruel one. In seeing such qualities, she smiled to indicate her desire for friendship. "Of course, I cannot risk catching consumption now -- not if it would put my child at risk," she said, pacing a little over the cream-cobbeled pathway, to face the regiment of palace-worthy trees and rose-gardens directly opposite them. "Perhaps you would take the time to walk with a Scot's Queen? Only if you have not been summoned by your mistress, mind you," she asked, giving Marion a direct way out if she wanted it.
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Post by Lilystar88 on Jan 19, 2017 8:40:33 GMT -5
She dipped her head listening to him, finding her mind wandering to why the birth of a child would change what you believed in. She pushed the thought aside for now, it wasn't her place to ask. Her surprise sparked in her eyes as he laughed, not sure what she had said that was funny.
She let him laugh to himself, the amusement bringing the smile back to her lips. "The Prince will need to tell his father of his intentions, right? Is the King too sick to speak?" She didn't know the extent of their King's condition, but she knew consumption was a tricky disease. She saw him looking at the horse, smiling softly. It was so obvious when faced with someone who hadn't spent time around these creatures.
She had been distracted fixing the horses rug that had twisted slightly, and only heard him call for his camping supplies to be retrieved. He returned to her, seeming to have calmed somewhat from his earlier state. His comment bought a smirk back to her face. "Well there is no time like the present. I assume our Prince wants to move fast." She said turning away and moving in to the tack room. The room smelt of leather and beeswax, it was one of her favourite rooms and more often than not this was where she opted to sleep. It saved having to face her father.
She cast her eyes about her at the different saddles, trying to think who was the best horse to teach a total novice. She muttered softly to herself as she thought. "As to your earlier question, the death of royal's is tricky. Of course, Henry should ask his father. But if his father says no, who's going to stop him? None of the chamber-boys, in fact, no one at all will want to anger Henry -- for soon, he is going to be King," Richard said, following her into the tack room -- quite admiring the cleanliness of it all, with new-leather saddles, each with their own stand and adorned with coloured horse-rugs and the like. Brinn had done well. "The King wants to go tonight. Try and act...bridely. And in return, I'll learn to ride...just, don't make me go on a fast one, okay?" he asked, pulling back as he remembered some of the looks the horses gave him, It was quite remarkable how Brinn knew each horse and could read it's moods and concerns as easily as one could read a human. It was a talent foreign to him, but that being said, he'd never been round a horse for more than five minutes before.
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Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Jan 19, 2017 16:13:35 GMT -5
Oh, of course. Obviously she would have come to pay her respects to her father. He wouldn't be lasting much longer, something which saddened many of the courtiers in public but excited them behind closed doors. Sometimes it made Marion feel sick, the amount of pretending people did. Not that she able to say that she was completely innocent of it herself. That would be lying.
Well, she wouldn't be missed at the festivities. And befriending people like the Scottish queen might very well help her to rise in this mad heirachy anyway. So maybe this walk was a good substitution to the social graft she would be doing to try to rise to the top.
So she nodded with a little smile, deciding to take the other up on her little offer "But of course. It would be my honour to talk a walk with you, Your Majesty, and I am not needed anywhere at the moment."
And why not got for a little walk? It could only do her good, if she thought about it, since she didn't see a way that it would be harmful. At the very least, she would get a little bit of fresh air out of all of this. And fresh air had been difficult to come by lately, with the chaos and general panic the court was perpetually in at the moment. It was a dreadful, fearful panic, one that she hated and was always trying to escape. Marion liked being in control, and so she didn't function well in panic. That might end up costing her if someone else manic to take a bigger advantage of this chaos and to emerge as a better candidate for mistress for the new king. But Marion hoped not. She had spent years building up her whole in the court and she was now one of the first names thought of when people thought of candidates for the king's mistress. For most, she was the favourite for the role, though she suspected that Henry might want to pick someone more obedient or more conventional than she, someone without the lol calculating quality that seemed to intimidate many men who wanted to court her.
So maybe a little bit of a quiet break from all of the madness happening around her would do Marion some good, maybe clear her head, make her sharper and more determined than ever, like sharpening a blade against a whetstone.
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Post by Lilystar88 on Jan 19, 2017 16:23:13 GMT -5
Margaret's face lit up in a smile. It had been a while since she'd had company. There seemed to be something...sour, between her and the Scottish women up North. Perhaps it was because she married their king. Perhaps it was because she's English. Either way, she felt as if Marion was, on some level, capable of being a friend. Which was more than she could say for most women of the court. Of course, none would blatantly be rude to her -- not to the sister of the most powerful man in all of England. Yet, Marion was something more, but not a saint as well. Her way with people told her that. So Margaret tried to peer into her life, using casual questions to determine Marion's true goal.
"Did my brother bring you to court?" Margaret asked, slipping down a pathway of darker chipped rock. It was bordered by a small iron fence, and sewn among the perfectly trimmed hedges were lush red roses -- just like those on her families seal. Their smell was beautiful -- sweet, and delicate, not as tangy and acrid as the scottish rose.
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Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Jan 19, 2017 16:36:05 GMT -5
"In a way," Marion admitted as she walked alongside the other woman, taking in the delicately scented air as the two walked "It was the usual affair of my family wanting me to marry well, and I was almost guaranteed to garner the attentions of at least a lord or two if I came to court - ladies in waiting are the most sought after women in the court. And, well, I guess they did hope that I might even capture the attention of His Highness, if I was very lucky. It isn't unheard of, anyway."
It was the mention of her family that kept Marion seeming neutral. After all, it wasn't she that had kept even a vague interest in marriage. No, it was her parents who had been totally obsessed with the idea of their daughter finding the right husband. A good, rich husband with some land. Someone who would keep her kept well for the rest of her life. It sounded well intentioned until you took into consideration that her parents had seen no value in her until she was of marrying age, and had forced her to spend most of her childhood preparing herself for being a wife. She hadn't been able to do anything hat she had wanted to do. Perhaps it was resentment of this being forced to be a wife that had caused Marion the grow up with not true interest of marriage but rather a sense of family duty. She felt that her family had tried to prepare her for something for her whole life and she owed it to them to fulfil that role. It was the least that she could do for them, as a dedicated daughter, wasn't it?
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Post by Lilystar88 on Jan 19, 2017 16:45:22 GMT -5
"Ah," Margaret said, smiling at her memories. "I had a similar upbringing...'daughters are a valuable political commodity, for the soul purpose of marriage contractual agreements' -- I remember my father saying such a thing, once." It had been over a fight with her mother, around about the time she was promised to the Scottish King. All in all, it had been a happy thing. It gave her a role in life -- a bridge of peace between two countries with ancestral hatred towards each other. But Marion was a young thing, she probably couldn't see it yet.
"Well, by brother is without spouse yet. If god wills it, it shall be done. Although, as Arthur before him did, he'll probably marry politically," Margaret mentioned, recalling her brother with fondness. Almost instinctively, her hands slipped around her stomach and when she realized she'd done so -- she realized what she wanted to name him, if it was a boy. Arthur. After her brother.
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Post by Lilystar88 on Jan 19, 2017 17:11:05 GMT -5
Richard furrowed his brow as he looked at the animal. Not in an angry way, but in a curious way. He placed the saddle on top of the animal and tightened the girth until he could snugly fit two fingers between the strap and the animal. He had been watching all his life, as people he knew had set up horses for this monarch or that noble. Suffice to say, he was assured that the saddle was fitted properly and waited for Brinn to give the go ahead before he hopped on.
While he waited, he thought of his earlier question. Going slightly red at the prospect. He hadn't seen many brides in his life, but then again, he'd seen no fake-stablegirl-brides at all. It was a new job opportunity he had come up with all on his own. "I don't know try to act...in love with me? Talk about babies, or knitting, or perhaps...I don't know how do horses act when they...get together," he said, then realized what an awful, awful statement -- and even idea -- mimicking horse mates was.
"Let's..Let's just ride," he said, knowing that getting thrown from the horse would be all together easier than talking like a gentleman around Brinn again.
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Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Jan 19, 2017 17:19:56 GMT -5
"Perhaps," Marion replied with a smile "I think that His Highness will have in mind more useful matches than I. Besides, though he is as yet unwed, they say that he has an intended bride in Catherine of Aragon. So I am most certainly not setting my sights on him."
The role of queen was already likely gone, but Marion could still clinch mistress. If she tried to get his attention and she behaved herself she was well within a chance of it. She wasn't the hot favourite for the role for nothing. Marion could be quite the charmer when she wanted to be, and everybody knew it.
She was mainly now wondering how she would react to this news, whether Margaret actually new about it. She thought she would, but she also wouldn't be surprised if she hadn't. The royals were strange like that, often refusing to share news
(sorry its short x)
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Post by Lilystar88 on Jan 19, 2017 17:36:29 GMT -5
[[Nah that's a good length, it makes the rp flow quicker, and it's the kind of length you'd pick if you were writing a book]]
Margaret stopped dead in her tracks. She felt her stomach clench and roll. Or perhaps, that was just the baby inside of it. Either way, the prospect that Marion had just mentioned was not a good thought indeed. Surely, father must have banned it. The pope did issue the dispensation, but heavens knew if Catherine was telling the truth about still being a virgin? Oh, goodness knows, it didn't matter. Father was too ill to speak and Henry was a lustful teenager, determined to have his brother's widow for a bride. Sure, spain would be in the bag, but oh heavens what would happen beyond that..
"My dear, are you quite certain?" Margaret asked, fretting with the side of her dress just a tiny bit. She tried to hide her distress behind eloquence, but probably didn't hide it well enough. Oh god, now a bribe really would be necessary..
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Post by Lilystar88 on Jan 19, 2017 18:05:30 GMT -5
She led the horse out of the stable before handing the reins to him. She disappeared for a moment, moving to the far stable where the black horse from earlier was watching. She unbolted his door and without any prompting or leading the horse followed. "Come on." Once outside the horse stopped beside her. "I don't know the first thing about knitting." She said with a laugh. "Also horses are far from romantic." She teased
"Use the mounting block over there." She pointed to the crudely carved stone steps that would make getting on the tall horse much easier. "Just be gentle with your hands." She suggested as she checked the horse's girth. She had to hand it to him, he could at least saddle his own horse correctly. Richard led the horse carefully to the block, making sure not to yank the creature, but at the same time giving it firm direction. Once at the block he positioned everything right and slid one slightly mud stained boot into a stirrup and pulled himself across the saddle, loving the feel of a strong creature in charge of his movements. It was a good saddle too. It felt...powerful, freeing. Like finally, after years of being a lackey to the King's of the realm he was in charge of something -- and now that he was in charge, he could do it right. Like he should have long ago. He flashed a look to Brinn -- smiling in thanks. This morning he hadn't known his life would change like this. But now....it definitely had. For the better. And on the horse, he felt a bit more in control of his own actions. "Don't worry Brinn," "I'm always gentle with my hands," he said, winking to tell her that phrase had two meanings, before giving the horse a gentle squeeze and feeling it start into a brisk walk.
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Post by Lilystar88 on Jan 19, 2017 18:18:09 GMT -5
[[im sleepy i sleep now]]
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