The Appalling Strangeness of the Mercy of God [M - Hannelorian x DuchessLivilla]

[Hannelorian]

As the gentlemen began to carry on, Arabella politely excused herself to sit on the sofa beside her sister. A gentle and reassuring hand moved to rest upon Alexandra's shoulder, squeezing ever so gently. The Queen leaned in to whisper into her ear as she watched the flames. "You'll give yourself away if you carry on like this." It was rather unusual for Alexandra not to maintain her characteristic composure. Arabella seemed to recall that in nearly all circumstances Alexandra was unflappable. She always maintained her calm but here she was staring off into the flames and clutching at the fabric of the sofa rather harshly.

Arabella sighed deeply and nodding her head rose once more to make her way back toward the table. In a rare but fairly appropriate moment she had approached Father Lennox and helped him settle the rest of the cards. Her eyes occasionally gazing upward at Christian and Arthur. Most of the attention now on Bridget who had emerged and offered further services. "You won't have to pay any of it." Arabella whispered softly, attempting to reassure Anthony. "Arthur has it in hand, and my personal budget has more than enough room to match the donation." Arabella was intent on the charitable aspect of it. If they had sinned, it may as well go to a noble cause.

There were subtle exchanged glances, though nothing that seemed out of place to the casual observer. Merely the Queen assisting a Priest in closing up shop after a chaste game of cards. "I'm sorry he dragged you into all of this." Arabella nodded vaguely toward the room itself, and everything it brought with it. The idea of the psychic or whatever she was must have made the man deeply uncomfortable as it had once made her so. Though oddly it did not terribly challenge her personal faith in a higher power. Perhaps in some way it had reaffirmed it.

Arthur taking a good look at Bridget now could see there was a wisdom in her face. It was not just her years no, there was something about how she handled herself. It seemed foreign, she appeared to carry an air of absolute confidence that struck him at his core. But no, his wife had seemed shaken, and his father was growing impatient. Though a part of him truly wished to go and experience this for himself, it seemed an unwise decision given the current state of affairs. He had other duties which needed to come first. Alexandra would always come before anything. "I thank you kindly madam." Arthur bowed his head. "Though as His Majesty has suggested, the hour grows late, and you must also wish to retire to your home for the evening and the holiday. I shall keep you no longer." Another this time smaller nod as he turned to move to sit beside his wife on the sofa, the spot which Arabella had abandoned not long ago.

"Shall we begin then?" Arthur asked, largely of Christian. For his part Arthur had his arm wrapped his wife, pulling her closer into him. His smile was warm and his touch was soft. Even if he could not inquire further, he hoped that simply his presence would be enough to help calm her, they hadn't much longer to go before they would all be free for the evening. They simply had to endure.

[DuchessLivilla]

Alex did not, could not, in that moment, respond to her sister, all she could think was her baby boy was ill...or would be ill...or weak...or...or...She had hardly even noticed Bella sitting down nor her words but they must have had some effect or perhaps she knew herself, because by the time Arthur joined her, she had mastered herself once more and smiled at him sweetly, as if all was well and fine.

She was, perhaps, not as jolly as she had been, but while Arabella and Arthur might notice, the King certainly wouldn't so that was all that mattered. Her sister was right in that aspect; she could give nothing away to him. He had to think all was well. If he suspected she had been told something unpleasant...He'd damn well try and out what, and if he knew little Alec was destined to be sickly, what might he do?

The threat that Lord Darnley, doomed husband of Mary Queen of Scots, was said to have flung at her when she no longer came to his bed, sprung to her mind, "Children die, Mary...easily..."

How easy would it be, if Alec was known to be sickly, for the King to...to...harm him and under the guise of his already weak health, claim it was natural?

No. No one must know. Not even Bella. Not even Alice and Thomas. No one but she and Arthur.

Bridget, waiting as the King, who never carried coin himself but who had several wall safes scattered about with various amounts -for gambling use of course- to dig out some money for her, watched the Princess and decided to break her own rules. She had, once Alex had left, done another reading, asking another question, and she decided that the young woman needed to know the answer.

Not to the previous question; she would respect that. The mother could not bear to know her son was to die young...but she had to know this...

The old lady came over and said, loud enough for all to hear, "Ah, child, yer must have dropped this from yer dress," and under the guise of returning a button or some such, she leant in and whispered, "A son of yers will be King, child." Before she pulled back and returned to the King, who had noticed nothing; his head had been in his safe digging out notes.

Money, as ever, meant little to him. "Ah...Coin is better I imagine?" He said, smiling at the crone before handing her several crowns; a huge sum. Clearly pleasing the King had its merits!

"My thanks again, dear lady," he smiled warmly and rang for a servant to see her out.

As she passed, she nodded to Arabella and departed, leaving both women forever changed with her words. Now that was power if ever there was.

Anthony meanwhile had blushed at the Queen's words and said softly, "Forgive me, Majesty...I did not wish to seem mercenary. Charity is always good and I wish to help in all I can but...I own nothing and..." he laughed softly, "I have never held a coin but the penny we were given each Christmas! I have certainly never spent a coin!"

This would have been most amusing to a commoner but to a lady, and a lady of Bella's rank who had been wrapped in wealth since birth, it was not so strange. Ladies rarely touched coins either; perhaps in the offering plate, but no lady went to a shop and exchanged money! A bill was sent to the house and paid by the master or else by the steward for the grander houses. Even notes were not to be touched often by ladies! It was not their sphere at all.

Christian, bringing his wine, came over and sat, ringing the bell once more to call his footman in to them: someone had to fetch and bring the gifts to them after all...

"Yes, yes, let us begin when Taylor arrives. Come darling," he called to Bella, glancing at the table where she and Anthony stood. "Father Lennox, you may escape if you wish," he added, winking, "I know this is not your idea of amusement."

Anthony smiled shyly and looked at the Queen, as if asking for permission to leave or...or he would stay...if...if she wanted him to...

For Alex, the effect of Bridget's parting words had been instant and had had the intended effect. She was, somewhat, soothed. Not by the idea of a son becoming King, that would hardly take away the sting of the first prediction! But by the fact that, in essence it meant...whatever they must all endure...there was hope at the end. At some point Bella would kill the King and...it would be over. They would all be free.

[Hannelorian]

Arabella clocked the interaction between Bridget and Alexandra almost instantly. It struck her as unusual at first, and then she wondered if there was something left unsaid. Something that warranted the old woman herself to go to the Princess and share one last pearl of wisdom. The Queen nodded ever so faintly in response to Bridget as she departed. The Queen was determined that this would not be the last time Bridget made an appearance, though no, she would not simply be dragged out for some event. Bridget was not a toy or some theatrical amusement she was a real person, one who warranted admiration and commanded respect.

Anthony's simplicity was a thing of beauty, he needed not for money or material things. He simply existed and appreciated, he worshipped God, he followed his orders. Save for a few key ones. He was a genuine person, there was no falsehood about him, no mysteries or enigmas or twisted little games. Anthony was simply Anthony, that was part of the reason she had grown to love him, to truly love him.

"Yes father. You should get some rest. I'll wish to offer confession first thing in the morning." Arabella offered Anthony the reprieve he needed. Arabella would not force him to sit quietly by and watch Christian put on his charade of love for her, and even more so she would not force him to endure Arabella's charade in return. Her fawning over the King at every opportunity. That seemed far too cruel for someone as good as him. Especially when she had dragged him into this. She had forced the issue with him. She put him in this position and she would prevent his suffering where she could. "The family should be together." Arabella commented. It created distance between them. It told the King that Arabella was consistent, she wanted this to be an intimate holiday and she was continuing to see it through. Of course she wanted him to stay... just being near him, even if she couldn't reach out and touch him was enough to soothe her. She would have to wait until the morning.

The Queen quietly made her way across the room and wrapped her arm in Christian's. The dutiful and loving wife at his side with a wide grin on her face. She was warm and affectionate, leaning against her husband, her head resting on his shoulder. "But it is my idea of amusement, my love." Arabella spoke to Christian and as the King moved to the sofa which had been designed for two. Arabella sat down, grateful in honesty to no longer be standing. Taylor entered the room a few moments later, immediately dropping into a deep bow before the family.

"Your Majesties." He spoke in a deep and respectful tone, still bowed, his body adjust slightly in the direction of the Wales' "Your Royal Highnesses." He greeted similarly before allowing himself to rise and properly enter the room. Taylor was a young man, no older than 26 with impeccably coiffed black hair. The livery seemed like it was made for him. Taylor did not desire a life of service, but it was what he had and he was good at it. He had no real love of the King, much like the other servants within the royal household. Arabella's arrival had brought welcome relief, she was a kind and capable mistress. She often deflected the King's anger and protected the staff at every opportunity. He was one cog in the vast machine that was the household, and he of all people was less than pleased to have to spend the eve of Christmas waiting on the King.

"Taylor, good evening." Arabella bid him welcome with the nod of her head. "Thank you for assisting tonight." The Queen would have gladly helped with the distribution of gifts from assorted tables, though she preferred not to move too much for the time being. "Might I trouble you for a glass of wine?" The Queen asked as she reclined rather uncomfortably.

Arthur watched the scene unfold with his wife, watching as Bridget made her return and seemed to whisper something into her ear. The guise of a lost button or some such was a nice attempt, and thankfully one Christian would believe without a thought, literally because he would not think of it at all. Alexandra seemed to relax, but he still worried and he wanted nothing more than this all to be done with so he could speak to his wife. So he could understand what she had been told and what had pained her. Perhaps it was a mistake not to speak to the woman after all. Perhaps she would have told him what was going on, something to let him in to what seemed to upset his beloved so greatly. "Come darling, let us sit and enjoy." Arthur said with a soft smile as he took his wife by the arm and moved with her to sit on the sofa across from the King and Queen.

[DuchessLivilla]

Anthony, relieved beyond belief to escape, bowed to both the King and Queen and then departed, shaking his head as soon as he was in the corridor. The opulence was rather unnerving and the presence of...of a witch -if that was what she was- was even more concerning! He cast about as he walked, as if expecting -or fearing- the woman might suddenly appear before him and curse him.

He made his way to his simple little room and fell to pray, something familiar and something as habit as breathing for him. It calmed him greatly. He prayed for the Queen, of course, but also found himself praying for the Prince and Princess too. He did not pray for the King, not because of any malice, which was beyond him, but because he did not feel as if he had a right to pray for the sovereign. That was for better folk than him.

-

Naturally, two of those left behind would have given much to have been allowed to escape but that was impossible. The Wales got into place, like actors on the stage, and sat, smiling and nodding along as the King had Taylor bring them all refreshments -wine, candied fruits and nuts which had been prepared- before he grinned.

"Right lad," he said, nodding to the young man, "It is only fair the Queen goes first, bring us..." he craned his neck to see the table for the Queen and pondered a moment, "That one there, to the left with the silver paper and pink bow. I think," he winked, "I recall what that one was! And if not, we shall all have a nice surprise."

Taylor did as he was bid, returning swiftly with the medium sized, rather flat box. It was beautifully wrapped and the ribbon was delicately coloured pink silk; expensive for just decoration! And not even decoration for a gown! But no one in the room batted an eye at that, all were far too use to such things. Silk ribbons for their hair had been a standard when the sisters were little, and a much sought after treat when their father went to town.

While that was going on, Alex glanced over at the tables and inwardly sighed. Arthur might have been too optimistic...They were heavily laden with gifts for them all. And knowing the King, unless he became bored, they'd be here as long as he wished to draw it out. Still, part of her wished to remain here as long as possible; how on earth would she tell him what she now knew? Would he even believe it?

"As soon as we can escape home...Oh God, perhaps we can beg off New Year...No...I doubt it. Family harmony and that nonsense. He will never allow it and if we press, he will demand to know why. Doctor Thomas comes here...Maybe he can examine the little one and...and at least give us some hint. I am sure he can be trusted to keep silent. He hates the man as much as we all do. He would not betray us...Please God."

She blinked and refocussed to find her sister had unwrapped the gift and was opening a velvet box to reveal something large and gold within, lying flat on the plush interior.

The King, beside the Queen, smiled proudly, "Ah, yes...I remember. I had them strike a medal for you, darling, for you first Christmas as Queen." The heavy gold disc, a quarter of an inch thick was heavily detailed and enamelled in beautiful colour, showing the Queen in her ceremonial robes, with two cherubs flying over head, holding a canopy of estate over her. In one hand she held a rose, for love, and the other the bible. Around the top of the medal were the words Aut Aimul Stabunt Aut Simul Cadent*

He leant in and kissed her cheek, smiling happily, "Aut Aimul Stabunt Aut Simul Cadent," he repeated. "We are together in this life, my dear heart. What concerns you, concerns me, and so on."

Alex frowned. The men, of course, understood Latin -they had been taught it- but it was not something taught to women. She, however, had picked up some at Suffolk and had learnt more when she married; Arthur being perfectly happy to help her and to have her learn. "How romantic," she thought, still frowning a little. It was, on first glance, a strange choice for a medal's motto...But she supposed it was perfectly chosen for Christian. He wanted to make sure Bella knew -as if she could doubt it- that she and himself were fused...One being.

The King, paying no mind to anyone but his wife beamed happily. He was most proud of himself. Again, much like a little boy who had given his mother a gift; he craved approval. It was amusing really, a King desperate for the approval of a woman. "Your turn, my love, who shall have the next gift?" He asked.






*'they will either stand together or fall together' - if one ends, so does the other, and vice versa

[Hannelorian]

The Queen hesitated for a moment as she opened the gift. When it came to Christian, anything was possible, if not plausible. She herself could hardly imagine new things to gift him, he already had everything! She had given him a new carriage, horses, everything that could come to mind. But never the less, she did not let it get the best of her instead she proceeded with opening the delicate wrapping. It truly had been beautiful, even if Christian had no real hand in the manner in which things were wrapped, it was still something to behold. The attention to detail was painstaking and someone on the staff had taken a great deal of time and care in putting this whole thing together, as they had with all of the gifts.

The Queen gasped as she saw the medal in all of it's glory. A hand raising to cover her mouth, the corners of her eyes welling with tears, her cheeks flushed red with color. "It's absolutely beautiful." She picked up the delicate creation, her fingertips running over it, feeling every little bit of imposto and customization. The image of her in her regalia was divine, a near perfect likeness of her. It reflected Arabella's beauty, her serenity, and her truly regal standing. "Truly... it's magnificent." It was a beautiful creation. A gift that had no real functional purpose, it was gaudy, perhaps too extravagant, but it did touch the Queen, it was compelling.

"Thank you, Christian." Arabella turned to her husband, and wrapping herself around him, she kissed his lips gently, pressing herself into him. "It's incredibly thoughtful." It was a moment in her life that Arabella took great pride in. Her coronation in her ceremonial robes. It was something that made her happy. No matter how fleeting that happiness would be. The message of the engraving was clear as day, and Arabella could only pray that he meant it. But then she knew he would, but she would be the one to end him after all.

Arabella wiped the tears away and smiled brightly. "I do hope my darling sister and Arthur will forgive me, but I do wish to present you with a gift." Christian came first, he would always have to come first. He needed the attention and the validation. Arabella would provide him with all of her attention. "Taylor, the long box please." The box was long and narrow. "And the small square one in the tartan." Taylor nodded his head to his Queen and quickly gathered the boxes to place them before the King. The long box was narrow, wrapped in a golden paper with silver and black ribbon of silk, as well as a bow of similar gilded gold. The King's name written on the paper in Arabella's own hand. The paper was even perfumed with her own signature scent.

Once opened, Christian would discover the box itself was made of patent leather, and within was a new hunting rifle. Top of the line, state of the art. The rifle itself was painted in a crisp white with enameled detail. Christian's cypher had been engraved on side, with his family crest on the other. The metal of the gun was covered in brilliant gold, truly gleaming. Arabella had asked the master of the hunt, and the King's armorer for exact details on Christian's favorite and preferred rifles, what he appreciated about one but didn't like in another. And from all of that information she had commissioned this new piece, perfect in every way, custom designed for Christian to perfect the design itself. Every thing he loved, with none of the things he found annoying or defective.

"And that next one... is something personal." Arabella smiled. The smaller box was perfectly square and not terribly or overly large. It was wrapped in a rich red tartan paper with a crisp silver bow. Once more Christian's name was written in Arabella's own hand. Arabella had, also wrapped his presents herself. Not that Christian would care, or even think to ask or consider, but the Queen took it seriously. All of her gifts for everyone had been wrapped by hand, including the gifts she had selected for her guard and her attending maids.

Within, Christian would find a leather bound book, and a perfectly folded letter. "To share every part of my life with you, I had this dug up. It's my first diary. Even my most immature thoughts I wish to share." Arabella smiled warmly, knowing Christian would never read it, but it was the simple act that mattered more than anything. "And that letter... well, that is a letter I sent to young girl. A Christmas letter, and you kept it." Someone kept it, Christian likely didn't remember. "A gesture to show my best wishes for you have not changed. My love and devotion for you remain, and have only gotten stronger since I was younger. There is no doubt in my mind that God intended me for you all this time, and now I have you, and you have me."

The way Arabella looked at Christian was unmistakable. It was a look of love and affection, a look of need and physical attraction. A look that screamed that she had nothing but love for him. That was the power of Arabella, she could project whatever she wanted, whatever she wished. The Queen was brilliant, despite her immense and largely hidden sadness. "It's silly I know, but I wanted to show just how much you mean to me."