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

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    The Priest...Anthony was more logical and indeed more convincing than Arabella may have been prepared for. She could not argue that he was right, regardless of whatever child she or her sister had, war was likely inevitable. A full on conflict, armed to the teeth in which so much life would be lost. Brother against brother. It was a grim thing to consider, but it was worth spending a moment here or there to do so.

    How many times in her life had the Queen heard the phrase that God never gives one more than they can handle? Too many to count. How many times had she said that to another? Too many to count. But when Anthony said it, when those words left his lips or something close enough to that effect she could not help but be struck by them, and for once she may have actually believed them. It would have been difficult not to believe Anthony. His words were calm, and he was a man of God. Truly a man of God and that was something that appealed to Arabella.

    A genuine piety, the kind Anthony exuded was enough to send a flush through Arabella, it reminded her of Richard for just a moment, and she would quickly need to cast an appropriate though from her mind. He was a priest, and she was married, he was not Richard. He was not her current husband, such things were foolish, and momentary. She believed in him. She believed him.

    "Thank you..." Arabella said softly as he transitioned from her situation to that of his upbringing. He was a foundling. He had been raised at the same hospital she had just seen not long ago. He was one of the unfortunate souls to have to suffer at the hands of overseers that did not care for them, but used them as little more than a means to a paycheck from the patrons. "My God." The Queen said as she found herself drawn closer to him, she took several steps forward until she stood before the seated figure. A slender hand raised up and moved slowly closer to him, coming to rest upon his cheek. Her thumb was now stroking his cheek. "To grow up without the love of a mother... and to grow up in a place where the light of God barely shines down..." Perhaps it was her hormones, but tears began to form in the corner of Arabella's eyes.

    "I've been there... not long ago. I...was appalled, shocked by what I saw there." Arabella also understood she was crossing yet another line with her hand upon his cheek, but she didn't really care. Priest or not he was a person who deserved comfort and some degree of affection. "But even through the suffering you heard His calling... You have no idea how lucky you are, for just that much." Arabella understood further he was not lucky for his upbringing, but to hear a calling from God was the most magnificent and important honor one could receive.

    "You are no longer a prisoner. You are no longer forbidden to ask that which troubles or interests you. If I am not a slave to the will of another, save for God, you are not a slave to those who deny you the quest for knowledge and understanding. I pray you will not keep your voice trapped in your head, not with me." Arabella was on the verge of bawling, but she held back as much as she could, a small smile painted across her face. He shared her feelings of imprisonment of being trapped. For the first time in her life, perhaps, she felt seen and validated. Not as Richard had done, but that seemed like an entirely different life compared to this one.
    Thanks to Hayabusa/Ryoku for the set.

  2. #642
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    Anthony smiled gently, "You do not need to thank me, Your Majesty. I am your servant, but that aside, I am merely speaking truth, for which no thanks is needed. Still, thank you. I can see that to be honest was a strain for you, and I understand why. I shall cherish it for that sake, and yours."

    He jumped a little when she cupped his cheek but made no move to shift away nor remove her hand, likely due to the fact she was the Queen, and to touch her was very nearly a crime. It might well actually be one, with their current King. Christian would see anything like that in it's worst possible light. Best he kept his hands folded on his lap.



    "I...Ah...I...Yes," he stutter, swallowing nervously. "Still I...I did know love. Not all the nurses were indifferent to us...some, mere girls themselves, had grown up there...They..." he sighed. "They tried their best but when you have known so little love, it can be hard to give it...I pray for them, daily, and the others still there."

    He blushed and smiled at her, meeting her gaze, shyly, but honestly, "Thank you, Majesty. I shall endeavour to speak honestly to you." He glanced at the clock on the mantle and said gently, "Your Majesty, it occurs to me...you might wish to send word to Her Royal Highness, before too long. His Majesty shall be most pleased with the coming news and it will not be long before the whole city knows of it. I...Forgive me, but given what you believe...Perhaps the Princess should like to know the news before it comes to her over lunch with the afternoon press."

    -

    For the King, entirely unaware of what had transpired in the early hours of the morning, his day began like any other; he rose, washed and dressed, or rather was washed, and was dressed, before he attended chapel alone in his private closest. He then took confession before he made his way to the breakfast room to await his wife.

    Christian, at ease as ever, sat, a copy of The Times, in hand, reading when his wife appeared. "Ah, there you are darling," he said, beaming at her. He folded the paper and set it down, snapping his fingers for their tea to be poured. A footman hastened forward to pull out Arabella's chair. "I trust you slept well? I am sorry I could not visit you last night...Business matters detained me in the city," he chuckled, picking up his cup and drinking as the servants starting bustling in with covered dishes of cutlets, potatoes, bacon, eggs, sausages, toast, cold meats, and everything else one could imagine.

    Where he had actually been was better left unsaid.
    "Ye mustn't be afraid to ask for help. Pride is a good thing, my girl, but it will kill you in time." - Granny Weatherwax

  3. #643
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    "You're a very smart man Father." Arabella said softly, this time moving her hand away from his face. For a moment she simply stared at it. His skin had been so soft, and she wondered if she should have spared him the affection. No, it was hers to give, and hers alone, so she would do as she damn well pleased. "I will pen a letter for Alexandra." She smiled and took a step back from the priest, her eyes taking a look over the whole of him. Yes, this was a decision she had made and could not retract, though her darkest secret remained hidden for now. She had to trust him, it was her only path forward.

    "You may return to bed." It felt odd to dismiss him like she had, but of course that was what was required. No one took their leave of her, save for the King. The rest simply waited until she said something. "Please know, you have brought me great comfort this morning. I shall not forget your kindness." Arabella clasped her hands in front of her and motioned toward the door to the study. "I fear you may have been wasted on the church." It wasn't until after she had said that, did she realize something and wished she could have taken it back. "I mean to say... in another life, you would have made a lady very happy." The Queen bowed her head and took her leave of the room first, turning down the hall toward her bed chamber, hands thrown up in the air she spoke to herself. "For God's sake Arabella the man is a Priest." She swallowed hard, almost embarrassed that for a moment she had felt her heart come aflutter.

    By the candle light at her private desk, the one where she did almost all of her correspondence she set pen to paper and began to write her sister.

    Dearest Alexandra,

    I should hope this finds you well. You will be pleased to know the press from our little tour went over well. Then again, I suppose by now you would have had Arthur read it to you. I do hope that you have the light of true faith and understood the fundamental calling that is our charitable works. It would be best you take much rest in the remaining months of your condition. His Majesty and I would hate for something to happen as a result of carelessness. Be well dear sister, and know that I love you.

    Ever in Christ,
    Arabella R.


    Included in milk, as ever was the message not intended for the prying eye, spare her any accusation, but the true text as it was meant to be.

    A,

    It filled my heart with such joy to see you. My God you're looking so well. Pregnancy suits you. I only wish it could have been longer. You needn't worry tender heart, I am quite well. In fact, I must be honest, at the urging of Father Lennox, I should confess.

    I fear I am with child. I know I am with child. I pray this message finds you before Christian tells the world. As of this writing I haven't even told him yet. But on to happier matters, you will have attended Kent's dinner party when you read this. Oh I do hope it went well. I'm sure Alice looked ever the picture of perfection. Do tell me she and the Duke have a bright future. I love you, with all my heart, whatever I have left of it. Don't find trouble. If you can help it.

    Love,
    A.


    --

    Arabella entered the breakfast room, the silk blue of her gown trailed along the floor behind her. For her husband only she wore off the shoulder sleeves, short ones that allowed much of her arms and neckline to run exposed. Her face was bright, hair done up in a neat bun, a small tiara of diamond and sapphire atop her head. No gloves. Arabella had cast them off when it was just her and Christian, as he seemed to enjoy seeing her flesh, but she would don them before leaving the morning meal, along with a long shawl to change for the day. The breakfast as well as evening outfits were for Christian alone.

    "Good morning my love. I apologize for running late. Correspondence got the best of me." Arabella was all a bright smile as she strode her way from the beautiful wooden floor onto the ornate rug which silenced her steps. Her hair was pulled out and her tea poured but before any of that, she would walk right up to the man and kiss him upon the lips with all of the passion that screamed desire, even though that was the last thing she had in mind.

    "A night away from you only makes my heart grow fonder my darling." Ever the actress she knew what to say and do without fail, and thus she kneeled before her husband, looking up at him, her hand reaching up and out to clasp his and bring it down. He had been detained in the city, it was a wonderful thing for Arabella. Horrid for the woman he spent the night with. If they survived the encounter with her husband, which was not a guarantee, they would soon find themselves upon the pyre at the salvaging. Never to speak of what happened to them. Not a word. But it spared Arabella a single night of torture.

    "Graves, make sure the King and I are not disturbed." Arabella called as she knelt, and the faithful shadow that was her man nodded and exited the room sealing the doors behind him.

    "I have news." She began, still smiling as she gazed up at him like he was the only man in the world she could see. "God has heard our prayers. I am with child." She wanted to shudder with those words but she refused and held herself together. She thought of Lennox's words, and how they brought her peace. "I am certain of it. Not that there was any bit of doubt. You are after all, the Lord of all men on this earth." Indeed in short order she had become pregnant and this time there was no doubt that he was the father. She was carrying the King's progeny. "We must celebrate." She rose from her position and so deftly moved herself to his lap, her arms moving to wrap around his neck, and tears began to fall. They would appear tears of joy, when in truth they were the tears of a broken heart.
    Thanks to Hayabusa/Ryoku for the set.

  4. #644
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    Alexandra and Arthur were enjoying a quiet breakfast when the letter arrived. Alice had slept late, perhaps for one of the first times in her life, and the Princess had given orders that she was not to be woken until she rose herself. There was, after all, no hurry.

    The young couple were seated on the terrace, overlooking the gardens, as they broke their fast. Arthur flicking through the morning papers, and, unlike his father, reading the stories aloud to his wife and discussing the news. The King might read a part to Arabella, but he would give his view, and not even think to ask her for hers. He was, grinning, reading many an excerpt of their little tour, which was still being talked about in the papers as a great triumph.

    A footman came out and bowed. "Your Royal Highness," he approached and held out a silver tray to Alexandra. "A letter from Her Majesty. It arrived early this morning."

    Alex smiled and thanked him before she took it, her smile fading a little as she held the letter, her fingers -free of their gloves- stroked the seal idly. She bit her lip and glanced at Arthur before she said softly, "I fear I know what this contains."

    She closed her eyes briefly then broke the seal and opened the letter, reading it closely. It was trivial, and hardly worth the haste it must have been sent with to arrive early this morning. That meant a hidden message. Alex reached out and held the letter against the tea-pot, using the hot water within to warm the paper. Within seconds the true message appeared.

    As she read it, dread crept into her mind. She swallowed and handed it to Arthur. "The Queen is with child," she said softly. She looked off at the gardens below them, taking in the beauty and tranquility of the place. It was hard not to feel as if an hourglass had just been overturned, and the sands had begun to slide away. "I do not know what to pray for," she admitted, looking back to her husband. "Should I pray for a son and heir, in hopes it saves my sister and perhaps in the vain hope that the King is so happy he forgets his hatred for us...Or should I pray for a daughter, and hope the King does not kill my sister for her 'failure'..."

    She covered her mouth, trying hard not to cry. "Oh, Arthur, what do we do?" Alex whispered softly. "I feel as if an hourglass has started to run. Will he even let me live long enough to have our baby?"

    -

    The King's face went through a number of emotions as Arabella revealed her secret to him before he finally settled on elation. He looked as if he had heard the news from an Angel of the Lord. He could not have been happier. As she seated herself in his lap, he wrapped his arms around her and held her, surprisingly tenderly. "My love...Oh, my love," he whispered, smiling. "You have made me the happiest man in the world this day. You are right, we must celebrate! But nothing that will hurt our little miracle."

    He gently shifted her off his lap and stood, beaming as he did so. He wiped the tears from her eyes, "Do not worry, my darling. All shall be well! This is a joyous thing. I must inform parliament...Get the ball in motion, as it were..." he smirked. "You have a fine sense of timing, darling."

    Christian clapped his hands together, rubbing them like a miser thinking of gold. "Ah! I could not be more please with you, my dear heart. It must be a sign from God. First he sends me good Father Lennox, and now this. The Lord truly shines upon our family, Bella. Soon our home shall be full of little ones. But a Prince, I think, for this first one. Time enough for Princesses later."

    He said this, with a smile and a tender hand upon hers, but there was no jest to it. She was to give him a son. That was it. Anything else was a failure. Much like Henry VIII and his doomed 2nd wife; anything other than the Prince he wanted was not to be countenanced.
    "Ye mustn't be afraid to ask for help. Pride is a good thing, my girl, but it will kill you in time." - Granny Weatherwax

  5. #645
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    It should have been a moment of joy for Arabella, but it was far from it. It felt more like a waking nightmare with no escape. The Queen so publicly strong, moral, and full of faithful smiles was at a moment of crisis. She did not want this child regardless of the gender, she did not want to bring someone else into the world who could possibly be as cruel as her husband. That seemed like an unnecessary punishment for the unsuspecting. But as Anthony had reminded her, it was a child, a gift, and no matter what she would love it as only a mother could. At least this time she would be presented the option of actually being a mother. To have a child of her own that she could love and hold and not be parted long from. She would make sure that the child did not end up like their father. This was her ultimate responsibility, her duty.

    So too would she have to reckon with the simple fact that her fate hung in the balance, just as Alexandra's or Arthur's their child's. If she had a girl, she could be killed, she would be killed. Arabella knew that well enough. No matter how much Christian loved her, or the idea of her, that would all be shattered the very moment she brought forth another daughter into the world. She would share the fate of another second wife and that was terrifying in and of itself. But perhaps death would be a mercy if it spared her from what was to come. What might already be there by the time she was ready to birth the child.

    "You must understand, my lord, my love. That as thankful to God as I am, I am thankful, grateful and humbled to be your wife and to bring you this gift. The gift that only your love could have afforded me." Her eyes were wide, her tears wiped away and the tenderness the King showed her, it was almost more shocking than any of his cruelty. Arabella would not be so stupid as to classify it as kindness, there was no kindness within him. "If God shines his grace upon us, it is because of your piety, sacrifice and good deeds. We shall fill our home with Princes, and all the nation, and all the world shall be in awe of what we have created. Our enemies will fear us. Our people will love us. And none shall be spared the divine righteousness of God's will."

    She could sound just as zealous as he, and for his sake, she would do everything in her power to ensure he knew that he had her support. Alexandra could not save her now. Nor should she, Alexandra had her own family to worry about, and so Arabella would do anything it required to keep her and her unborn child safe. She would fight for her daughter, who all the world who knew of her existence now thought dead.

    "I shall not delay you my love, God's will be done." Arabella would wait patiently, and then finally seat herself. Once her husband had left, and the guards returned to the room, she would smile. "Send for Father Lennox, he shall be joining me for breakfast this morning."

    The Queen would mouth quietly, "God give me a son, else I die."

    ---

    Arthur felt his heart sink as Alexandra informed him of the news. Indeed he too had expected it. His mother, like Arabella had gotten pregnant rather quickly, and after the birth of her son, she seemed to give up entirely and surrender to her depression and the drink. Arabella would likely be stronger, she had already proven so. Arthur rested his elbows upon the table, folding his hands in front of him, he watched them for a moment before turning his attention to his beloved. "I fear I may be cruel in my response." Arthur sighed, the fear for his family welled in his eyes. The inevitable was now fast upon them, there wouldn't be much time to remaining.

    "You might pray that she lose the child." He certainly was his father's son, even if he struggled against it when he could. "Spare the world another monster that would be the product of those two." His trust was hard to come by, and he would not take chances, not now. "Whether he kills her or not. That does not really matter. You and our children are all that matters. Our family. Our future." Arthur had come to love Beatrix though she was not his own, she was his daughter as much as any. When he said children, a part of him felt warm, tender. "You will have our child. You will raise him or her with all the love and affection in the world. Nothing will stop that. If my father so much as tries, I will rain hell upon this Kingdom. Never again shall he treat you so poorly, or anyone else."

    Anyone else save Arabella. Should he have felt more poorly about discussing his beloved wife's own sister in such a way? Probably. He did, but he saw little choice in the matter. Anyone who could threaten them was the enemy, and he would not forget it.

    "Good morning." A voice called from behind as Alice made her way on to the terrace. She was smiling, bright eyed and practically giddy. She rushed over to the railing, after of course, curtsying before the Prince and Princess. Her gloved hands clutched the cool stone and she leaned forward, inhaling as deeply as she could. "What beauty!" Alice remarked taking in the sights and glorious smells of the garden first thing in the morning. If she looked closely enough so many of the plants glistened still with the morning dew. It was without parallel.

    As the young woman turned, she caught sight of Arthur's facial expression and that of Alexandra. "Oh no..." She said softly, and while she could not predict what exactly had happened, it was clear from the looks of the two of them that something had happened. "Are you alright?" Alice asked now slowly approaching the table to take a seat, her face filled with concern. "Her Majesty is with child." Arthur spoke the words without much emotion, he simply presented the information he had, his mind now lost on all. "Alex, we'll be alright. Everything will be alright." Arthur rose and moved to stand behind his wife, his hands resting on her shoulders rubbing gently.
    Thanks to Hayabusa/Ryoku for the set.

  6. #646
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    Alexandra looked out over the garden as her husband spoke. Part of her was struggling to accept what he said. How could she call herself a good sister, hell, even a good person, to wish for another woman to lose her child? Especially a woman who had, for all purposes, already lost one child. Arabella had done wrong in her life, as had everyone, and yes, she may have done more cruelty than good in some ways, but given who she was now shackled to, for life, it could be argued that whatever sins she had committed had been cleared...

    But again, she found herself half-agreeing with her husband. What if all that the King hoped for came true? Arabella would give birth to a healthy son, who would live and he could mold into the perfect fanatical and cruel heir...Would it not be better, for everyone, perhaps Bella included, that they were spared that?

    And yet...Arthur was Christian's son and he had a good heart. He had some traits of his father, naturally, but he had also pulled himself from the King and become his own man. Shouldn't she hope this new Prince -if it was indeed a son- would do the same? She knew though that the King would never allow that to happen twice. He would set all he could on this second heir, and the poor boy would become the King's weapon, no matter what.

    She rested her hands on her stomach and swallowed. Alex knew too, that she had to put her own children first in all this. As painful as it was. She was to be a mother and had to make the choices that would best serve her family...And that family did not include the Queen, not anymore. She closed her eyes. Now, finally, each sister was really and truly on opposite sides of the board. Even so, she could not help but feel her heart was breaking. For all their differences...Bella was her sister, the only one she had.

    She jumped a little as Alice appeared and raised her hand to hold onto Arthur's as he gripped her shoulders. She smiled weakly at her friend then looked up at her husband. "I know...it just scares me so. Not for me, nor even you, but for the baby. The poor child is not even born yet, has never felt grass nor seen the sun, and he or she already has a possible date of execution."

    Alexandra sighed and looked back at the garden. "And yet, even for the baby, I cannot beg you to take me away from England. I cannot ask that we run away, to France, to Spain, to America, anywhere to escape him...If we do, nothing will change. Britain and her people shall continue to suffer under this dreadful weight that crushes their spirit. If we run away and do nothing, we are not better than those who support the regime."

    -

    The King, too pleased with himself and this news, did not appear to even notice his wife was, despite her words and smile, clearly distressed. Or maybe he did notice and did not care. Women, after all, had strange reactions to such things. He embraced her and shook his head, smiling, "You do the Lord's work, my darling. In all ways. I shall go at once and inform Parliament."

    He swept from the room and within the hour had left the palace entirely. The news spread like a poison in the blood around said palace and before noon, the country at large would know the Queen was with child.

    No one, however, even the Queen's ladies, gave a thought to her though, as the news spread. Their talk was all of the blessed event and the baby, and the future...No one, it seemed, thought to inquire if the mother-to-be was alright.

    No one, save Father Lennox, who came as soon as he was summoned. He bowed as he entered and smiled gently. "Your Majesty...I hear congratulations are in order for you and the King," he said, without a trace of the lie he spoke. That was something. He could lie and play the game. That was good. Mercy, bless her, clearly could not.

    "Are you quite well, ma'am?" He added, which was his main concern. "You look a little shaken..."
    "Ye mustn't be afraid to ask for help. Pride is a good thing, my girl, but it will kill you in time." - Granny Weatherwax

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    To say that Arabella was impressed when Anthony held the line, acting as though he had not already been aware of her news would be an understatement. It brought something of a soft smile to her lips as she lowered the white teapcup, the golden rim now stained red, a perfect lip print in stain. The Queen looked toward the window, the sun's warmth and light surrounding and enveloping her. "Good morning Father." Arabella called in a soft, sweet melodic tone.

    "Congratulations indeed." Arabella rose from her seat now, she motioned with her right hand toward the seat she intended for him to take. "God is good, is He not?" She asked though the question needed no answer. "I will be certain to tell His Majesty of your kind words, should you not see him first." Arabella resumed her seat, and just watched the priest as he moved, as though there were no one else in the room. "Shaken?" She asked almost surprised. "I assure you I am the exemplar of happiness." The smile across her face was wide. Her right hand now raising upward, her propelled her hand forward in a sort of dismissive motion.

    "We'll be right outside your Majesty." Graves responded to the gesture and nodding his head, he and the guards in the room stepped outside, closing the doors behind them, giving the Queen her privacy. He had no idea what a Queen would speak of with her priest. A part of Graves was entirely too curious. But he knew better and he would faithfully serve his Queen without fail.

    "Graves is ever so loyal. I'm grateful really." Arabella commented off hand before sighing and looking now once again upon the priest. "It's funny. You're the only one today who will ask me how I am." It wasn't particularly funny, in fact, it was rather sad. But that was not something she preferred to dwell on too heavily. "I rather think I've found myself in the loneliest position in the world." Arabella motioned then toward the table, encouraging the man to eat something. "I don't want it to go to waste. Not that it would... I make sure it goes to the servants, and then whatever is left to the needy... but still..." She sighed, almost distracted or unwilling to discuss the matter at hand.

    "I seem to lose my humanity. Gone is Arabella, and all that remains is a vessel bred to fulfill a duty. I shouldn't be surprised. After all, that is what I was born to do." The Queen leaned back in her chair, her hands resting upon the arms, a benefit of getting to sit at a head of the table when the King was not present. Arms on chairs, how novel. "I just imagined there would be more to it." Arabella hesitated to draw comparisons to her previous pregnancy, and a part of her wondered how many times more she would have to do this. She supposed as many as God gave her.

    "I have, however decided something Father." Her cool blue eyes watched him, her expression soft, warm. "I should like us to be friends." She needed friends, and perhaps this was inappropriate for one's confessor, but she had few others who could or would keep her secrets. "I shamefully must admit, I do not know what it is that friends do. So perhaps you might suggest an activity." For the moment Arabella bore a genuine smile, there was an ease about her that Anthony had likely not previously seen, something a little more casual and relaxed. "You see, you're stuck here now, with me. You will not receive a new posting, unless you displease the King. Which in terms of your role, generally means if you were to displease me. I can assure you that I am not harsh as those words suggest. What I mean is, it would mean a great deal to me, if you would be willing to share this part of your life with me." Arabella struggled somewhat to think of what she truly meant, though it was not hard to interpret. He was there, and would not be going away, and nor would she.


    "I've decided to love this child, no matter how great I fear for their future. I would like to say it is because I felt God move the needle in my heart one way... but it is because of you and your words. Granted, as you are an agent of God, I could argue God did move the needle himself. But I want to give credit to your humanity." She smiled and nodded. "Eat up. You may as well enjoy yourself a bit."

    --

    "There is no date of execution, my love." Arthur said firmly, smiling and squeezing her shoulders gently. He leaned forward and his nose touched her hair, he took an moment to take in her divine scent and place a kiss atop her head. "For now we wait and see." Arthur did not particularly enjoy the idea of waiting, but it was the most solid move. The King had yet to do anything, save for threaten them with his existence, but there was much time yet.

    "Soon the battle lines will be drawn, and ultimately, England will succeed. With the people, we can change this world, this nation. But we must try to give our child the most normal upbringing. Let them feel the grass beneath their feet, and the warmth of the sun upon their back." Arthur seemed lost in the happier thoughts, he could see it in his mind's eye, but i8t felt so far away. So very far.

    "We won't run, we will stand our ground and I will defend our family. No matter who threatens us."
    Thanks to Hayabusa/Ryoku for the set.

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    Anthony bowed his head, "Yes, God is, indeed, good, ma'am. I shall congratulate His Majesty when I see him. I imagine he shall be most busy today with formal announcements...Afterall, it has been some two and more decades since a Queen was so blessed."

    He made no mention of Alexandra. Strictly speaking, the pregnancy of the Princess of Wales should have been announced in the same was the Queen's would be, but he had heard enough to know there was something about all that that was best left to silence.

    He took the offered seat, shifting a little as he did so. He was not used to chairs that were so plush! It felt like decadence that was unworthy of a simple man like himself. Still, he would not do the Queen a dishonour by refusing her hospitality. He had the sense she needed him now, far more than he had a desire for simplicity.

    The young priest watched her, his heart breaking for her as he did. She sounded, as she had done in the church, resigned and broken. He shook his head, half-unaware he had done it. Again he found himself thinking it was the height of ill-manners to break a woman with unkindness, especially unkindness masked as love.

    "Majesty, have you read anything about Queen Elizabeth I? A heretic, yes, but a remarkable woman besides that. I think you and her might have much in common. Of course, wildly different circumstances in many ways but still...her lament about 'loving and being forced to seem to hate' would seem apt I think. Much, it seems, must be hidden and sacrificed to the Crown and duty. It pains me greatly to see a great Lady, such as yourself, brought so low by it, when you should know nothing but flowers and happiness. I...I confess, I struggle to know what to suggest in order to help you. I am a mere priest, and one with scant knowledge of your world...But," he smiled gently, "I should like to be your friend, if I may, and help in whatever way I can. Even if it is only an ear I can offer."

    Anthony smiled again, this time a little ruefully. "I do not think, and forgive me, Majesty, one can chose to love or not to love. You shall love your child, as surely as the sun shall rise tomorrow morning. Nothing will change that. Even His Majesty, if I might be so bold, loves his son, for all their differences. He may not like His Royal Highness, but he cannot stop loving him."

    That was a matter for debate. It was also a question whether the King was even capable of loving anyone, aside from himself, but Anthony was young, idealistic and naive...To him it was simple; God was love, and so all those touched by God, loved.

    He gestured to the spread, "I shall, if you wish, suggest an activity. That you join me in this meal and we spend the time we have talking of other things...I fear you shall have little else to speak of when you join the court and your ladies. I should think, for this brief time, any other topic would serve your mind better."

    -

    Alexandra leant back against him and held his hand tight. She nodded. "You are right. Dwelling on it will not help anyone, least of all the baby. Doctor Thomas told me I am not to give myself over to melancholy...It is not good for the child."

    She smiled gently and looked at Alice, "And besides, we have much happier things to talk of. Alice, forgive me for not waking you earlier. I thought you might like to sleep later. I know myself," she flicked her gaze to her husband and smiled again, properly, dimples forming in her cheeks, "that that first night I danced with Arthur, and then all the nights after it, that I never wished to wake, because in my dreams he was there again with me. I wanted to keep the dream alive for as long as I could."
    "Ye mustn't be afraid to ask for help. Pride is a good thing, my girl, but it will kill you in time." - Granny Weatherwax

  9. #649
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    "I think you fundamentally misunderstand the level of hatred my husband possesses for those who oppose him." Arabella spoke frankly, any trace of a smile faded from her face. "But as you say, enough of that." The Queen rose from her seat and made her way to Anthony, it wasn't so long a walk. Taking the plate set before him, she feigned a smile and rather instinctively made her way around the table, using the various implements to fill it with assorted eggs, meats and even a share of vegetables. She did this almost absentmindedly, but it was in her nature to serve. "I can't say I've read any of Elizabeth's work." Arabella confessed quietly as she returned round the other side setting the plate before the Priest and then helping herself to smaller portions.

    "While it is true, I probably could indulge in more reading than the average woman, the King strictly forbids works by women in the palaces. Especially those of a heretic like Elizabeth. God forgive us women if we are to learn that we too harness a power, and might one day use it." She laughed lightly, but she did take the matter quite seriously. "Alexandra was always the reader." The Queen quietly and swiftly with all the grace and elegance in the world resumed her seat and returned her focus to the priest. He truly was a handsome man, if not an odd one.

    "She used to sneak off, hide away and read a book she wasn't supposed to. Even Richard would let her get away with it from time to time." The mention of Richard without fail would force Arabella to smile. Even his name just rolling off her tongue was enough to offer her a subtle comfort. "I was too busy being taught, trained to be a lady, a lady who by God would marry that Duke if it was the last thing she did. After that, it's no small feat keeping a great house in working order. There's always something." Leaking roofs, groundskeeping work, squabbles between staff that for whatever reason had risen beyond the control of the butler and the housekeeper. All sorts of things.

    "Once again you have noted you are not of my world..." Arabella seemed to harp on this note rather pensively. "Perhaps the solution to my problems, the one you are so desperately seeking is not of my world. Perhaps it is of yours." She paused for a moment, once again lost in her own mind. "Besides, regardless of whence you came, you are part of my world now. You are the confessor to the Queen. A lofty title for so young a man." Arabella did rather like the fact that he was young, he had yet to be corrupted by the trimmings and trappings of power and greed. "Self sacrifice is a virtue is it not? I am here to serve my God, my King and my Country. To think of myself would, perhaps be too selfish. Then again, I could think of no higher calling." Arabella was one for duty and one for suffering, that could not be denied.

    "Tell me something Father... and forgive me, I'm certain to be out of line... but..." She questioned herself, wondering if she should stop now while she was ahead. "Have you ever been in love? Beside love with God and the Church?" Arabella wasn't sure why she was asking or what she hoped to gain from such a thing. It was selfish, but she wanted to know more about him, all about him. He was a mystery, and even if he claimed to be a simple man, Arabella suspected he was far more complex than he would let on.

    --

    "Happier topics indeed." Arthur repeated as he turned his attention to Alice. "Alexandra is being far too modest. She loves a good sleep in." Arthur laughed, prodding fun at his wife who was incredibly diligent and harder working than most.

    "Thank you. I don't think I've missed the sun rise in.. well since I can remember!" Alice exclaimed, rather bewildered that her body had let her sleep so long. But without the mess of servants waking and making all sorts of racket through the quarters it was easy to enjoy this new kind of life.

    "I want to marry him." Alice spit out rather quickly, without much thought. "I don't think I've ever felt this way before... and well I don't want to be without it." Alice was in love, and though she didn't quite know how to address it as such, this is what she felt and there was no turning back, not now. "I look in the mirror and I can see in my face the same look you had all that time ago when you first met His Highness." Alice cast a glance at Arthur smiling warmly. "I think... it suits me well!"
    Thanks to Hayabusa/Ryoku for the set.

  10. #650
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    Anthony smiled. "Ah, well then I shall seek out some books for you...If I may? I mean no offense to His Majesty's rules, of course, but you are missing out on some very interesting points of view, as well as some beautiful words." He paused then, remembering it was a rule that might send a woman to the gallows. "Ah...forgive me, I forgot myself. Might I...read to you instead?" he asked, almost shyly. "In the gardens perhaps."

    Still a little unsure how it all worked, it was clear he was trying his best. A woman and her confessor, alone in the gardens, him reading to her, was entirely innocent. Anyone looking on would imagine he was reading her psalms or the Bible etc. Of course, it was in the scheme of things, entirely innocent anyway! All he wished to do was give the Queen something else to think on, something new. He would not read her anything unseemly.

    He smiled gently as she talked of reading and power. She had a valid point there, that was for sure. He nodded, "Yes, my superiors felt the same, Majesty. I confess, in some ways I do agree...Some texts we read, in order to know why they were banned were deeply unpleasant and I would not wish to have any lady read them."

    Anthony chuckled, "Ah, Her Royal Highness pushed the boundaries and you upheld them. It is funny how often that occurs in families. I speak not, of course, of my own, as I have none, but I have taken enough confessions to know that to be true. As for yourself, ma'am," he said, his voice gentle, "You are carrying life within you, a Royal child, yes but even if if you were a servant, the babe is still a precious gift. Thinking of yourself, at this time, is no more selfish than thinking of what is best for said child. After all, you must be healthy and happy to nourish him or her, and to have the strength to bring them into this world. As your confessor, I beg of you, think of yourself now, in all ways, and do what you will to be happy."

    The young man paused, using the act of pouring more tea for the Queen as a reason for said pause as he thought of his reply. "I think so, ma'am. Not in any great way...The children at the hospital, as you saw, are separated into boys and girls from aged four or so onwards, and so I had little chance of seeing a girl in order to be in love with." He laughed softly. "But, like most boys, I did have the odd infatuation. The two sides were brought together for chapel on Sundays only -the rest of the week we had worship separately- and I did find myself drawn to a young lady, a year or so older than I was, when I was about three-and-ten years old."

    He blushed a little. "I confess, I was not in love with her as a girl...But rather that, to me, she seemed to embody the very image of an Angel. I looked at her and felt I saw, through her, God at work. But, if I am confessing, had things been different, I think I would have been content to wed her, and have that Angelic creature at my side." He smiled and shook his head, "I do not even know her name, nor anything about her, nor she of me. I fear it would have been a very unhappy union!"

    -

    Alexandra beamed and bit her lip, smilingly proudly. She could not help but clasp her hands together like an excited girl might have. "Oh, oh I am so pleased," she cried, rising to embrace Alice. "I had hoped as much when I saw how you and he looked at one another but I did not want to ruin things by hoping aloud. I shall tell you now though, the Duke cares for you as you do him. I may not have a keen a mind as his Grace but I can read a face like a book."

    She laughed softly. "He loves you, Alice. He looks at you as he does one of his treasures, as something to be protected and kept close. Did he ask when he would see you again?"
    "Ye mustn't be afraid to ask for help. Pride is a good thing, my girl, but it will kill you in time." - Granny Weatherwax

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