Elizabeth Tudor [ ᴏғ ᴇɴɢʟᴀɴᴅ ɪʀᴇʟᴀɴᴅ & ғʀᴀɴᴄᴇ ] (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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paradisa2013-03-31 12:18 pm
onemistress) wrote in paradisa2013-03-31 12:18 pm
Entry tags:
[010]; some gentler love
[ dictation; open; ]
[There is a very soft humming as Elizabeth flicks through the pages.]
It is Easter, and the air is getting warmer. It is such a grand metaphor the change of seasons, I think. So Christ is revived, so the earth is. I cannot wait for the flowers...
[She thinks herself very clever for that, and the humming starts up again.]
It so grand that I do think I will keep myself indoors today. My room is too small for my mind at the present. You're welcome to join me, and we can see if spring is sprung, nay?
[And she laughs, softly again, and so much earnestly than usual. It's not clipped with dark humour, or some sarcastic dry words hiding her amusement. It is almost giggling, for just how lighter her voice is. It doesn't completely stop either, even with the sound of rustling of material and heavy fabrics. ] -- I really ought to find some kind of lady to attend me of a morning, I swear these laces were not made for a woman alone. No wonder the servants think us strange to be dressed up like all this all the time. Though I don't think I could stand dressing so plainly...
[There's a thump and the sound of something rolling on the ground, Elizabeth curses, in something very much not English.] And there goes my ink pot, blast it all. [ s i g h ] Well, I think I shall go for my walk, if another would like to join me, I would be so happy for company, if the company be true.
[ filter to; Merlin, Galadriel, Morgana Pendragon, Zelos Wilder, Arya Stark, Catelyn Stark, Anne Boleyn, Lucrezia Borgia & any other friendly CR that wants in. ]
I could never be so rude as to not issue the invitation to you all personally in particular. After my walk I was thinking of going riding, or perhaps a picnic, if you'd like to join me so much -- it would please me very much.
[ filter; Anne Boleyn ]
My Lady Mother, I am very sorry, I was working on translating some poems from Italian into French for you as a present, but I am afraid my ink pot had other plans. It is still done, but I think I may have to start it again for the terrible ink stain now in the corner of the page.
[ action; open ]
[And for anyone looking for Elizabeth, she's just where she said she was: out in the gardens. The horse she'd taken from the stables tied to a tree and grazing nearby as she laid there in the pool of her long green skirts. Book in hand, utterly immersed in it as she laid on her side reading it. Alone and being immodest for it, her shoes had been kicked off, white stockings slowly getting ruined by the dirt where she curled her toes in the grass. The long red hair -- her long red hair, all of it -- laying out behind her completely unbound. Even for her talk of being dressed grandly, she is not as well dressed as her sister at the least. She is a bastard daughter, and not so bedecked in jewels as she would grow to be. But it is still brightly coloured brocades against the chill that might linger. Not that it bothers her much, her status or the weather.
Eventually she juts dozed off like that, the book over her eyes. and her cloak bunched up as a pillow under her head.]
[There is a very soft humming as Elizabeth flicks through the pages.]
It is Easter, and the air is getting warmer. It is such a grand metaphor the change of seasons, I think. So Christ is revived, so the earth is. I cannot wait for the flowers...
[She thinks herself very clever for that, and the humming starts up again.]
It so grand that I do think I will keep myself indoors today. My room is too small for my mind at the present. You're welcome to join me, and we can see if spring is sprung, nay?
[And she laughs, softly again, and so much earnestly than usual. It's not clipped with dark humour, or some sarcastic dry words hiding her amusement. It is almost giggling, for just how lighter her voice is. It doesn't completely stop either, even with the sound of rustling of material and heavy fabrics. ] -- I really ought to find some kind of lady to attend me of a morning, I swear these laces were not made for a woman alone. No wonder the servants think us strange to be dressed up like all this all the time. Though I don't think I could stand dressing so plainly...
[There's a thump and the sound of something rolling on the ground, Elizabeth curses, in something very much not English.] And there goes my ink pot, blast it all. [ s i g h ] Well, I think I shall go for my walk, if another would like to join me, I would be so happy for company, if the company be true.
[ filter to; Merlin, Galadriel, Morgana Pendragon, Zelos Wilder, Arya Stark, Catelyn Stark, Anne Boleyn, Lucrezia Borgia & any other friendly CR that wants in. ]
I could never be so rude as to not issue the invitation to you all personally in particular. After my walk I was thinking of going riding, or perhaps a picnic, if you'd like to join me so much -- it would please me very much.
[ filter; Anne Boleyn ]
My Lady Mother, I am very sorry, I was working on translating some poems from Italian into French for you as a present, but I am afraid my ink pot had other plans. It is still done, but I think I may have to start it again for the terrible ink stain now in the corner of the page.
[ action; open ]
[And for anyone looking for Elizabeth, she's just where she said she was: out in the gardens. The horse she'd taken from the stables tied to a tree and grazing nearby as she laid there in the pool of her long green skirts. Book in hand, utterly immersed in it as she laid on her side reading it. Alone and being immodest for it, her shoes had been kicked off, white stockings slowly getting ruined by the dirt where she curled her toes in the grass. The long red hair -- her long red hair, all of it -- laying out behind her completely unbound. Even for her talk of being dressed grandly, she is not as well dressed as her sister at the least. She is a bastard daughter, and not so bedecked in jewels as she would grow to be. But it is still brightly coloured brocades against the chill that might linger. Not that it bothers her much, her status or the weather.
Eventually she juts dozed off like that, the book over her eyes. and her cloak bunched up as a pillow under her head.]
no subject
[She looked at him side long then, trying to fight her smile down where her lips began to curl up. So instead she ducked her head, trying to keep it to herself.] It pleases me too, Master Zelos, to see you.
[He reminded her too much of Dudley like this. The arrogant sure way he spoke and laughed.]
no subject
[He notices that reaction and well, it's just down right cute. Such an adorable girl you once were Lizzy, seriously]
no subject
[She's not sure he's ever told her where he comes from, come to think of it. It must be nice, for the women there at least, to be free of such damning remarks almost constantly.]
It isn't so much as unladylike, not if you really think about it. What matters is strength. Men have the stomach for war, that is what they say, women do not. It is why sons are the... only thing that matters.
no subject
[AHHAHAHAHA...yeah it's great]
Seriously? But women are the ones who don't fear blood. [He's legit confused about this man]
no subject
[SHHHH HUMOUR HER. Seriously like either of their home worlds are nice places.]
That is not the same thing at all. [She looked plainly uncomfortable speaking of these things in front of a man but...] A natural process is entirely different to ending a man's life, the most grievous and high of sins before Holy God's eyes. No, that is not the same at all. It is the act of killing, the art of killing, to go to war. A woman is to bear children, not arms. Even in a King's case, he is to give such orders, and so may as well do it himself. [and even as she says it, she sounds unsure, but it's so common a response, it is said with a practise reputation as to why.] I could never bare to do such a thing, to order a man's death...
no subject
[He listens to that]
Excuse my language my lady, but that's a bunch of bullshit. Women can handle that stuff just fine if they want.
no subject
[She only glanced at him a moment as he talked.]
Do you really think so?
no subject
Of course I do. During my travels, half my companions were women - and they fought just as hard as the men could. A few of them even would hit harder than us!
no subject
[It sounded like fantasy, of a time that no longer existed that she read only in the books of history. Of Amazons and fierce Celtic Queens. Unbidden a question rose to her lips, and it escaped her before she realised what she was saying.]
Could you teach me to fight? [and then she bit her tongue, embarrassed by the question. She was not a prince, and ladies did not learn to fight. No matter what he said.] I know a little of archery for hunting, and how to go about killing a beast but...
no subject
[Now that's a surprise. Elizabeth, while fierce, he had always imagined her battlefield to be the noble courts. Which, despite what people claimed, were a lot more bloody and cruel than any true battlefield. ]
[There was a reason he tried to stay out of it as much as possible. Part of it was simple survival]
Well...I only know swords, knives and hand to hand. Archery was never something I mastered. But if you are alright learning those things...I could probably show you some.
It won't be easy though.
no subject
She's still not at ease with it, her hands in her lap again, fingers curled up tightly.]
I thin I would like that very much. I am not at liberty to speak of it, but... [she looked at him again, with so much trust.] But I think you no spy of my sister's. Truthfully I can never ask of wanting to fight at home, even if it were more seemly. My sister would think I mean to join the rebellions in my name, though I never said a word to them. But I think I should know, Princes ought to, do you not think so?