paradisa | [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.]

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I shall see you soon then, my lady.

[Which then, so many minutes later, there is Elizabeth knocking on Sansa's door.]

[She opens the door a moment later, a light colored wolf at her side.]

My lady. Thank you for coming. [She steps back to let her have entrance. There about half a dozen dresses displayed on her bed.]

[Elizabeth eyes the wolf, watching it. Like the littler Stark, but not so vicious.]

I am so happy to -- [and her eyes caught the dresses and then she takes in a soft breath of surprise.] There are beautiful, my lady. Utterly.

[And she's right. They are more simple, the Elizabeth's own layered silk dresses of too many intricacies.] Did you make all of these yourself?

Edited (fff wrong icon) 2013-04-14 17:30 (UTC)

[When Lady deems Elizabeth to be no threat, she pads back to her spot in the corner, makes some noise, and lays with her head on her paws. She's watching the two women intently, but she sees no reason to be at Sansa's side.]

I did. My thanks, my Lady. [It's a great compliment for her, and she can't help the wide smile.] I used to sell them in an inn. But the lady of the house is now gone. I also have warmer dresses, thicker and lined with furs, but with the strange quickness of theses seasons, I thought not to pull them out for spring is here.

[Elizabeth moved closer, picking up the pale pink dress, running her thumbs over the stitching.]

That seems a shame, for something so fine ought to be seen. [Carefully she placed the dress back down. It reminded her of the dress she had worn for her portrait. Well, a simpler, lighter version.] The winters seem warmer here, I'll have to give them that.

[She can't help how proud she is. A fine lady like Lady Elizabeth liking her dresses means a lot.]

In my lands, they last for years. [And the winters here seemed more like summer in the North.]

I can make an alteration if you need any.

Then I will be content with that. They can be seen at least there.

[Elizabeth ran her fingers over the material again, looking at it.] Tell me, how do you fancy lace, my lady? Do they use it much where you come from?

We have Myrish lace, though it is rare. I could use trim if you like. [She does hope to be pleasing for the woman. She seems very elegant and esteemed.]

Only one kind of lace? [That seemed a little disappointing, but never mind, she could show the lady who'd been so kind.] That sounds perfect. I would love that.

[She looked over the dress again, admiring it once more. Different to what they had in England, older fashioned. But she still found it beautiful.]

I have been quite remiss, I am the Lady Elizabeth Tudor, it is a pleasure.

It was all we had. [She feels bad for disappointing her, but Sansa has mostly worked with wool in the North. Silk was rare, but she could do it, and lace was far more rare, though Ned saw to his daughters needs.]

It is well met, Lady Elizabeth. [She dips low into a formal curtsey.]

I am-- Alayne Stone. [There is a hitch in her breath before she gets the name out, guilt crawling up her spine. Since Robb's return it's been harder to play pretend, to be who she should rather than who she is.]

Edited 2013-05-01 16:36 (UTC)

[010]; some gentler love

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