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

[Hannelorian]

December at Court meant one thing, Christmas. In all of England there was no greater holiday, a time of peace, worship, and of course family. This also heralded the return of the King and Queen to Windsor, where eventually the Prince and Princess of Wales would be summoned as the family must appear to be absolutely united on such occasions. Even if not a single person seemed to look forward to it. But in spite of that, the decorating had commenced. The banisters of the grand staircases were enveloped in green garland, wreathes were absolutely abundant, it was a veritable feast of red and green. Then there were the matter of the Christmas trees, some years ago they had been gifted by Christian's German relatives, and ever since, every single year, trees were delivered and decorated throughout the whole of Windsor. Even the staff had one in their mess. Though it was understandably far less grand than that of the Royal couple.

Weeks had passed since the events of the last family meal and a lot had changed in such time. Of course there was the marriage between the Duke of Kent and his wife, the newly minted Duchess of Kent. It was crack in the ever widening gulf between Arthur's loyals, and the majority of Court and Government, who largely preferred the insular world of the aristocracy where such blood was not mixed. The reports had come and gone of Alexandra's increasingly obvious pregnancy, noting specifically that she was larger than most pregnant women at her stage. Privately, Arabella had her concerns, but she mentioned nothing of them to anyone.

In fact, Arabella had just about forbidden any of her ladies and any of the servants from mentioning the topic in her presence, or anywhere that would lead back to the King. Further any correspondence or anything in the papers that contained mention of it were brought to Arabella first, and at times of her own choosing she would present that information to the King. Better her to handle the abuse than the servants themselves. By this time Arabella herself was more visibly pregnant, and was regularly discussed in the press and gossip sheets, many regarding how well pregnancy suited her (and her sister of course). She looked perfect, she was still the same Queen everyone had come to expect such perfection from.

Naturally she had learned yet another lesson and stayed out of Christian's affairs when it came to her sister and the Prince. The King eventually having cooled, would even on occasion call for her in the evening hours for his own purposes, markedly kind in their marital bed. The two took all their meals together still, unless of course Christian was off at the club or away hunting, though that was just about finished for the year. She dazzled guests at Court, from foreign ambassadors to other dignitaries and members of the government. Arabella had proved to be worth her wait in gold, she was ever the host, and had learned very well exactly what to say and what not to. The fear of God she felt was ever more real, and her studies with the good Father only increased. She feared ending up like Elizabeth ever more, and refused to accept such a fate.

Life for Arabella, for the first time in a long time seemed to calm down, she fell into her routines and stayed in her place. Always putting her husband before herself, always the well being of her unborn child. She was practically a living Saint. When he struck her in private, he would apologize, she would forgive him, and all would be well again. The amount of abuse was thankfully much lighter, owing no doubt to the child she carried, a future heir to the throne. To that end a few other things had changed. Nikolai, the Russian General had been granted permission to take up residence at Windsor, and was to travel with the court. No one ever did solve that little mystery of what happened to the young woman he had caged upon his first arrival.

Arabella and Graves had gotten away with it. More and more she spent time with her ladies, and kept them in line. It was made abundantly clear that they were still first and foremost in service to her, and if any of them tried their hands at the King, they would promptly find them removed. Or worse, sent to salvage. One Viscountess Selfridge discovered this the hard way, and found herself short a left hand for her impropriety. Arabella had the hand sent to her husband in an ornate delicate wooden box, resting atop a purple velvet pillow. It carried a note that simply assured the husband that his wife was well, and would be better served trying for child.

Though on the whole, the public still adored Arabella, she was a source of light and kindness, practically every day she was seen carrying on with charitable endeavors, with breaks for her rest and to have her doctors assure her and her husband of her continued health and that of the child. Her black book, which contained every secret her little spies had collected on every single member of court was something of an open secret. And so to challenge the Queen would be to bring upon the Queen's wrath, or the King's depending on what exactly was contained within those pages. Arabella was playing the game for real now, and she was playing to win. Her kindness was reserved for her Priest, her Husband, her trusted doctors, the public, and of course the servants whom she treated with exceeding kindness and often made sure they were spared the wrath of the King.

Such was going to be a long winter. Arabella, having finished her breakfast, would take prayers with her priest in her own chambers.

[DuchessLivilla]

As ever...life at Marlborough House could have been a universe away from life at court. What was hard, toxic and concerning at court, did not happen here. All was easy, gentle and pleasant. Now nearing the end of her pregnancy -Doctor Thomas reckoned, with the dates, she would have her baby before the end of January- Alexandra was as cheerful as ever, not for a moment showing any signs of being annoyed or fed up with her condition.

She was a little sad at having to give up dancing but instead she played the piano while Arthur partnered one or other of her ladies maids -Alice being still abroad on her honeymoon!- and enjoyed it just as much. Though even that, she had to admit, was a little tricky...they keys were rather further away than they had been!

Yes, she was often tired. Yes, things ached and hurt far more than they had. Climbing the stairs was now a task, rather than something simple but...She would not change it for the world. Even if Arthur had not been a wonderful support, which he was, she'd have faced it all anyway because her baby was happy and healthy and soon enough would be here in her arms, God willing.

As November crept towards December, she and Arthur had busied themselves with decorating the house for their first Christmas; not that they'd be having it on the correct day given the King's orders to appear at court, followed by a brief return home and then to appear when Alex went into 'labour'. The Princess wondered which of them had decided that...it could go three ways:

If it was the King, it was likely because a. he did not wish to have Alex in the house any longer than needed, or more likely b. he wanted to make them rush back when her labours started. Then again, if that was true, it would mean he knew she was pregnant...

So more likely, Alexandra saw Bella's hand in it. Either she, like Christian wanted her gone for as long as possible or...just maybe, Bella, as a sister who still cared, wanted to spare her what she could and not have her stuck here awaiting the day. Or, just as likely, and the one Arthur upheld, it was Bella who wanted Alex to have to rush to Windsor in her pains.

To banish such grim thoughts, both had agreed that they would have their own Christmas, in a decorated house, with their few loyal friends -minus the newly minted Duke and Duchess- and servants before they went to court. Setting out the time before to give them several days of festivities as it if was the correct time.

The 'family style' dining have been such a success for Alice's wedding, Arthur arranged a similar display for 'Christmas' the week beginning December. The ballroom was decorated in garlands, with winter flowers and vivid red displays on the tables. Several great Christmas trees dotted the room, decorated by Alex and the maids -the women eventually making Alexandra sit down and just direct when she was noticeably tired and aching from being on her feet- and Arthur had seen to it with the help of the male servants that every other room practically had it's own tree and decorations.

Even little Beatrix's nursery had a small tree, well out of her reach though on the sideboard, to prevent any pine-needles or such being ingested. She was another delight in the house for Arthur and Alex. It was a great help to have her as an example, before their own child arrived. It would not be such a shock, they told themselves, much to several older maid's smiles; no parent was ever prepared! No matter what experience they had, but they thought it better not to mention that. The Royal couple had enough on their minds.

Alexandra couldn't quite believe that Beatrix was seven months old already. It was amazing to think so much time had passed. She was getting quite the little personality now, and was starting to, when placed on the floor, roller over and make attempts and crawling. Much to everyone's delight! She would grin and gurgle and waved objects she had grabbed, and loved nothing more than kicking her feet and giggling.

Whenever Arthur or Alexandra came to see her, she'd let out a happy gurgle and reach for them. It warmed the Princess's heart...and yet also made her grieve for both Arabella and the baby herself. It wasn't to her or the Prince these things were meant for. It should be her sister, at home, in Suffolk, with Richard and their little one, doting on her.

Instead Bella was trapped in a golden cage with the King and his mad-dog of a enforcer, separated from Beatrix and now not even able to receive news of her. Still, Alex kept a diary for her sister, recording, daily, the little milestones and quirks, making notes of the days and what happened around the baby. If she was Bella, she'd want such a thing. She made sure to add in little mementos; cuttings from baby clothes Beatrix had outgrown, her first curl etc

It could never replace what her sister had lost but it was better than nothing. She also made sure to add the three miniatures that had been painted of the baby: one not long after she had come here, another at about 4 months old and one more recently, done as part of the Christmas celebrations where most well-to-do families sat for a new portrait.

Beatrix still had her baby-blonde hair but everyone had told Alexandra that it was common for babies and she'd likely darken up. Of course, she could not tell them about her mother being as fair as an angel and there being a chance that her child would take after her. She knew also from portraits that Richard had had more sandy-brown hair as a younger man so it was a very possible that the blonde would remain.

She hoped so.

Every evening, when she sat with Beatrix in the rocking chair, telling her stories, she always mentioned 'mama' and told her loose tales about Bella, nothing that could identify her, but enough for now. As the baby drifted off, she'd carry on rocking, wondering about her own baby. Both she and Arthur had black hair, hers with soft curls, his straight, and much of the King's family had been dark, though his great-grandmother had been fair...Arthur's mother had had such lovely strawberry-blonde hair, almost light copper.

She had smiled at the thought. It would please the Prince, she was sure, if one of their future children took after his mother.

Aside from the normal family day to day, and the Christmas event, Alexandra had spent much of her time in plotting...She could not do much outwardly, but inwardly she had decided the more strings she had to her bow, as it were, the better. And coupled with the fact Arthur wouldn't let her practice shooting now she was so advanced in her condition, the Princess had taken up learning Russian in secret.

She didn't know how much good it would do, as the dog had few to speak Russian to but it could not hurt having a vague knowledge of the topic. Who knows, she might be able to learn a few things if she understood him and he didn't know it. As such, she gathered as many books on the topic as she could, and also, having sent her servants -in plain clothes- into the city, taken on a tutor in the form of an elderly Russian man who worked as a grocer.

He had, understandably, been rather stunned when, thinking as he had been told, he was being engaged to teach a young boy of a lower/middling family or some such, he found himself presented to Her Royal Highness, the Princess of Wales! Still, he was a game man and seemed quite thrilled and amused by the whole thing.

He spoke English perfectly, having lived here many years, but still retained his own tongue, which he spoke at home with his family, not wishing to lose that link to his homeland. As such, he came three times a week to the house and spent several hours with the Princess in lessons.

In return, Alex paid, through several channels to avoid it being traced, for his children to have their education moved to a far better school than he could ever have afforded, and also to secure a place for his eldest son at the army college under Arthur's regiment.

With her almost exacting memory, Alex made great strives in studies and practiced alone when Mr Morozov was conducting his business or with his family. Contrary to what she had thought and heard when she started, she found the language rather beautiful. Complicated, yes, she doubted she would ever be able to write it! But deeply poetic in a way English was perhaps not.

Still, she did not forget, for an instant, why she was learning it. This was not pleasure. It might be key later on. Or it might not, but it could not hurt to have another skill. War was coming, one needed all the ammunition one could get.

-

Christmas at Marlborough House went off without any hitch, as befitting something organised by the Prince. The family style dining worked as well as it had at Alice's wedding and everyone had a grand old time. Mrs Patmore, as ever, had outdone herself once again, ensuring everyone from the royal couple, to their guests (the general, his wife, Mr Morozov and his family, the Dowager Duchess etc those for whom it was a delight to spend time with the couple) as well as all the servants, ate their fill with food left over. This was portioned up and dispatched to various places, ensuring nothing went to waste.

The dogs in the kennels did not go without either!

Gifts were exchanged, Christmas bonuses given out, ensuring the servants could treat themselves and their families this season of goodwill, and, of course, dancing. Naturally, Alex, once again, could not join in the more energetic country dancing, but she did, at the least, enjoy several slow waltzes -her favourite- with Arthur and the general. This amounted to mainly just standing and swaying to the music but it was something.

That was perhaps her only complaint about her condition, if she voiced one -which she did not- that she couldn't dance as before. Still, it was minor and for a healthy, happy baby, she'd gladly give it up entirely if asked.

The couple also exchanged their gifts at this time, rather than waiting. Neither wished to have to give their personal, and thought out gifts to each other in front of the watching eyes of the King and Queen on the day itself! They each saved a few to take to Windsor, ones that were domestic and would raise no comment, aside from perhaps a snide 'is that all?'.

Alexandra gifted Arthur a new horse: a fine stallion he had had his eye on for sometime and was most aggrieved when he was sold to another buyer. She had, with the same determination that her sister had, sought out the buyer -a wealthy Greek gentleman with no title but more money than God, it was said- and charmed him into selling the animal to her, for a fine -and at a loss to himself- price. The gentleman had, in a jest and with a wink, begged that should Alexandra ever find herself widowed, she would consider him as her next husband!

She had, with equal charm, replied he would be her first port of call! It may have helped that he was, for all his money and jesting, a charming family man with, according to himself, some nine little ones at home and a softness for them. When he could not fail to miss her condition, he was half sold already.

The Princess also gave her husband an oval portrait of herself, done in the rather sensual style with her hair let down and shoulders exposed. It was, of course, nothing over the top nor indecent, merely a more private portrait that a man would keep in his room...rather than on full display. Laughing, she assured him that when it was painted, her ladies were always in the room and the artist, a rather young one from the Royal Academy, had been most gracious and a perfect gentleman! Which was entirely true. He had, if anything, been so shy it was rather sweet.

She also gifted him a pocket watch on a chain, that, when opened, revealed a delightful secret; several inserts that folded out to contain miniatures. Inside was one of Alex and one of little Beatrix, but with space a plenty for him to add in their new arrival when the time came, and several more besides.

-

Father Lennox was rather amazed when, as December began, an army -it seemed to him- descended upon the ancient castle to transform it into a riot of colour and festivity. Everywhere, it seemed, there were garlands or candles or wreaths or a tree or all combined. It was vastly different from the Christmas he had known at the seminary...

That had been a time of prayer and silence and little had changed in the way of décor. Here it was a veritable assault on the senses! Every lady he passed seemed to be wearing some variety of green and white -red being thought too racy for a gown for a lady, however festive!- and most sported sprigs of winter foliage in their hairstyles.

He clung to his plain black garb and tried his best to not look like an awed child as more and more displays of wealth went up around him. He found himself looking forward, more and more, to the quiet hours he spent with Her Majesty in prayer.

It was a time, for himself as much as her, to reflect and enjoy a little bit of peace and relief from the festive chaos that seemed to be engulfing the castle, however merry it was.

This morning he awaited the Queen in her receiving room with a cup of tea -served by Mercy- and watched, smilingly idly, as the girl added a log to the fire. The King, he knew, had given orders that no chill was to overcome the Queen's rooms, for fear of her health and the child she carried.

He opened his bible and pondered what topic he and Her Majesty would talk of today. That were working their way through the tales and proverbs, talking in depth over the greater meanings and how they could be applied to daily life.

Anthony smiled and read the phrase, "Who can find a virtuous woman? For her price is above rubies." It was apt, he felt. The Queen was, to him, the standard of such things. The most noble of women, and one who bore a heavy task with a smile.

[Hannelorian]

Celebrating Christmas early at Marlborough House was likely one of the finest ideas ever crafted. The entire population of the estate was free to rejoice and celebrate. A time were duties were minimal, and much more time was spent focused on prayer, the holiday and celebrating in each others company. Arthur took tremendous pride in his home, his family, and his staff. It wasn't just Christmas for the Royals, it was Christmas for them all. Arthur was happy at a Christmas. A happy he had not felt since he was young and his mother was alive, and not so far down the bottle. Arthur knew that his mother never loved his father, nor did he love her, but even so there were happy times, at least when for his sake his parents could both pretend. The more he thought of it the more he realized how miserable even the good times were, but now he had time of his own.

Of course Arthur adored the gifts from his wife. She could have given him coal and he would still be thrilled and remark on how special it was. The truth is, he didn't care what he got, it was the fact that Alexandra was thinking of him, and putting in such thought as to what would make him happy. She made him happy and naturally there was no better thing in the world, save for Beatrix and their unborn child. Indeed though Arthur was always aware of Beatrix's truth, she may as well been his daughter, for that was how he loved her. They were a happy little family, and everyone could see it and feel it.

For his part, Arthur had a few gifts made for Alexandra. The first was a new tiara that he designed himself. It was of brilliant emeralds and diamonds. The set came with matching pendant earrings, and of course a diamond brooch. This whole bit was rather tricky, as Arthur could not have this work commissioned by the standard Royal jeweler, as that no doubt would have set off red flags at Windsor. Instead he had to send his designs overseas to Paris, the whole thing that taken the better part of the year to get just right.

He also had presented her with a portrait of the three of them, himself, Alexandra and Beatrix. Alex was seated with the baby on her lap, Arthur stood behind with hands on Alex's shoulders. Behind them was a great hearth and roaring fire. These were things that made him happy, these were things that shared memories and experiences above all. Arthur was indeed a very sentimental man. But he didn't care if the world saw his softer side, he was, after all still a Stuart, and even Stuart men had hearts.

--

Arabella made her way to her rooms, doors opening before her as she went about her business and eventually she would reach her receiving room, smiling warmly at the sight of the Priest with his tea. He was waiting as he always did, never knowing if Arabella would be on time, late, or rather late. At least this morning she was relatively on time.

"Father, good morning." Arabella spoke with a smile whilst stepping out of her shoes, dreadfully uncomfortable when pregnant. She preferred, when in the company of her own rooms to simply cast them aside. "Thank you for waiting, it's been absolute chaos with the decorating." Arabella threw her hands up in a simple gesture. While Suffolk was a large estate, it paled in comparison to the size of Windsor. Arabella had indeed had a very busy morning, one that to her too was sentimental.

As it turned out Elizabeth, the former Queen had been resettled into a country estate where no one would find her. But Arabella made sure too, that her house was decorated well for the holidays, and that Elizabeth would have gifts, though she would not be told where they came from as was Arabella's instruction. She did this with the approval of the King, but these were the kind gestures she could afford to give. Christian simply said yes, caring little for the details, but this too, was as Arabella preferred. Not to mention Arabella still kept her rooms at Windsor in pristine condition, with fresh flowers and a card each week that bore her own initials. Even if it was empty, this was something for her and her alone.

"Before we begin. I have something for you." Arabella held up a finger, a gesture meant to request that Father Lennox wait a moment for her return, and the Queen quickly disappeared deeper into her rooms and returned with a simple box, nothing terribly flashy. Arabella would take a seat beside the priest and open the box to reveal the contents. Inside was a blue woolen scarf, very simple in it's design, it was knit by hand and smelled of the Queen's perfumes, a by product of it's construction now doubt. Unfolding it, the Queen gently placed it about his neck. "I made it myself. Just as I used to for Richard each year. Though yours are simpler, I figured you wouldn't want something too decorative." Arabella was all smiles, it was a small gift, something little she could do for a man who meant so much to her.

"You'll appreciate that something like this is very difficult to keep from one's confessor, but I did my best." When Arabella was alone with Father Lennox, she was well and truly a different person. Her burdens had seemed to ease, her thoughts were growing less dark, there was a kind of optimism she carried with her. Arabella was a beacon of piety to the nation, and indeed it was something that by and large was no longer a falsehood. She was kind and charitable. She played the game when she needed to, but mostly with her own ladies, making sure everyone knew their placed and stayed in line. Arabella seemed to come to life when in the presence of this man.

Though entirely unspoken, Arabella's feelings for the man had grown. He reminded her terribly of Richard, a younger Richard. And for her to feel close to him, that was healing she didn't know she needed. She hadn't ever processed what had happened as she was never allowed to grieve, to mourn, she was forced to move on. But now things seemed settled, there was a rhythm and a grove that had unfolded. Arabella was content for now. The only thing Arabella would not discuss was her sister. Arabella treated Alexandra as though she were dead.

"What shall I learn of today?" Arabella moved herself from the soft seat and onto the floor where she crossed her legs over one another, somewhat like a pretzel with her skirts splayed out around her. Arabella felt more like a student this way, and she could more freely engage in a meaningful dialog.