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| Threading the Tapestry of Multiple Fates; Anne/HP/Wolsey/Norfolk/King~Discussion | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Nov 14 2010, 04:27 PM (333 Views) | |
| Anne Boleyn | Nov 14 2010, 04:27 PM Post #1 |
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((so i figured the sequence could go Anne, HP, Wolsey, Norfolk (x2)and then at the end of the first two rounds have the King come in after Norfolk, just to give the duo's a little interlude together before they see the King and give Lanie time to write up a KILLER cherry popping first king thread)) Anne's Dress: http://media.natalie-dormer.org/view/60/th...and-justice-02/ Music: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PnylZ3zPP80 Anne’s slim fingers brushed imaginary dust tenderly from Henry’s shoulder, her eyes keen and intent, slightly anxious. Her tongue darted over her dry lower lip focusing on every detail of her dear one’s visage. He was perfect. Perfect for her. Her gaze rose from her diligent work, pressing nearer against, hands sliding down to straighten his doublet with care. The doors before them that led to the audience chamber remained barred for the moment as they gathered themselves. Her voice unfurled like a water lily, deep, encompassed by the elemental, “Strength and faith.” Her cheeks infused with color, thrilled, this was their reckoning, “This day is ours. And ours alone.” They looked the pair. He, the golden child of court, and she…the black raven of ill news garbed in a gown subtly bright and bridal. In one glance it was the gentle hue buttercups under the sun…in the candlelight silver and white, soft as starlight. They were matched, simply opposite sides of the same coin. How could the King not see the rewards of combining them? For by granting their heart’s desires, he would gain the everlasting loyalty of the wealthiest land owner in England and an exemplary rising star at court with familial connections close to the throne. He could only enhance his kingdom and strengthen his ties. And yet Anne was tremulous at this very moment. They only had one chance to tip the scales. She wanted Henry so badly her entire body thrummed with that need and the fear that somehow that need would be denied. She couldn’t see a logical reason…she had distant royal blood, her uncle was a trusted adviser, her cousin the King’s past bedmate who he had handed to his most beloved friend. She was Henry’s equal and rightful partner. Even so she prayed….prayed as only one could in the presence of such a mighty ruler. As if the next day could be her execution. Her chin tipped up, lips ghosting over his jaw, “Soon…from audience chamber…to the chapel. And from there…our marriage bed. Henry…I want to call you husband.” Her eyes flicked up to his, seeing in them a future together….if only they were allowed it. Then they caught the figure clad in red over his shoulder approaching with a rather grim and irritated gait, and whispered one last time, finally puckering her pink lips chastely to the corner of his jaw, “Courage, my Beloved…the Devil comes.” |
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| Henry Percy | Nov 15 2010, 11:44 AM Post #2 |
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The smooth lining of his silk doublet and the careful arrangement of his usually tousled hair signified the depth of the meaning to Henry. While his doublet was not in the most fashionable of styles, it was clean and in the finest material, material that not even money could buy. It was restricted to the nobility, it showed of Henry’s status. Rare as it was for the young lord to show anyone that he was indeed towering above them all in his blood, today, it was deemed quite important. The young scion of an ancient clan, Lord Henry had the weight of the north on his smooth white shoulders and it seemed to tower over him like a cloud. The delicate features that marked his popularity at court was now stoic, although the soft trembling of his lower lip, a subtle pout, indicated the depth of his unease. The King must relent. Didn’t he see? If he didn’t, then the world would be dead to Henry Percy. It was because Anne was his world. If he could not have her, then he would fade away like a corpse. They were the most beautiful pair. The golden haired Adonis with his Iron Queen Proserpina, fighting for something that was so out of their control that it was absolutely necessary to destroy themselves in the process. He needed Anne just like the living needed the dead and if Anne was pulled away from him, then he would die, gored by the wild boar of jealous lust. Henry would have made a beautiful corpse, walking, wallowing, but a ghost. The halls of Alnwick were filled with such spectres; Henry would not make a welcome addition. ”Love and devotion, I give freely to you, my dearest Anne, and in time you shall become my wife.” His voice was soft, tremulous, and filled with the note of excitement. Reaching up slowly, he brushed a strand of hair from Anne’s face, not quite willing to let it go. They were each others, mind body and soul, and they would become one soon. Henry could not imagine anything else. A smile winded its way up to Henry’s face, warming his expression. If there was anyone in the world who could change the Cardinal’s decision, it was the King. He was a young man, he seemed to like Henry. Perhaps if only he heard the reasoning. Would he like Orpheus warm the heart of so formidable a Lord? ”Lady Anne Percy” He whispered into her ear, but his lips soon found hers. ”The Countess of Northumberland.” He murmured before wrapping his arms around her. Lingeringly, he kissed her gently. It was a knightly kiss, made for the dazzling damsel, and yet, all the strength of his love was conveyed through the kiss. A purely emotional display, there was very little feeling of sexual tension. Henry’s love exceeded the mere boundaries of physical desire. It was a spiritual connection. She was the Beatrice to Henry’s searching Dante. Tearing himself away by force, Henry turned slightly to see the coming figure. He was not afraid anymore. He had sucked sweet nectar from Anne’s lips and turned it into his own courage. So he waited, hand holding Anne’s, and fixed his expression into that of a courtier. |
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| Cardinal Thomas Wolsey | Nov 16 2010, 05:23 PM Post #3 |
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The king had more important things to worry about than this missive from the sniveling little weasel, Henry Percy, and Mistress Anne Boleyn, no doubt expedited by one just an conniving...Thomas Howard, the Duke of Norfolk. Any business the king had, Wolsey knew about first, and he wanted to laugh. "So. Henry Percy has dared to go against me. Honestly, I never knew the boy had it in him." He wanted to forsake his family's fortune, earn his father's ire, everything, all for the sake of a meddling seductive woman. Wolsey could easily change the king's mind, and had many times before. After all, he was the alter rex, and the one he trusted the most. Not Thomas Howard, as the duke so often liked to believe. Delusions of grandeur and madness. Well, the Howard family would be put in their place this day once and for all, and so would that Henry Percy. He rehearsed what he would say in his mind. Majesty, this union is most unwise. You risk the ire of the Earl of Northumberland, one of, if not the, richest man in the entire kingdom. His wealth and power is something that you want on your side. He has already set for his son to marry the Lady Mary Talbot, who has equally important connections. To have the elder Percy as an enemy was akin to having the Duke of Buckingham, Edward Stafford, as an enemy. Both were men who might get the notion to usurp the throne. If he knew the king (and he most definitely did), the fear of being overthrown would make him see to reason. If Thomas Howard was offended, he dared not say it in front of the king. After all, his dear precious niece, the Lady Catherine, was marrying the king's best friend, Charles Brandon, the Duke of Suffolk. This would be a union to watch. It happened so fast that he was unable to catch wind of it; with this meeting, he vowed nothing like that would ever happen again. Making sure that he looked his absolute best, he strode in the direction of the king's apartments, and noticed that the two ill-fated lovebirds stood before the doors, hoping for an affirmation of a union...a union that was fleeting and fanciful. Enjoy it while it lasts, Wolsey smirked, and took his place standing in front of the doors. "My Lord. Mistress Anne." Only offering them a curt nod of the head, he placed his hands on his stomach, clutching a bit at the brilliant red fabric. The lights of the hall caught on his chains of office and the holy cross that rested at his breast, the reminder of the sacrifices he made on a daily basis. Everything, if not for the Lord, was for the king, with Wolsey rewarding himself amply every now and again. "I trust you are well." He said no more, and stood ramrod straight, his posture and gaze haughty. Who were they, in his presence? Nothing. These were two who never had to lift a finger. The scarlet cardinal scratched and clawed his way to where he was today, and though he wasn't the son of a butcher, he had drawn enough blood along the way. |
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| Thomas Howard | Nov 18 2010, 11:08 AM Post #4 |
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Once more, treading the corridors leading to the King’s audience chamber, Norfolk went over that day’s primary issue. His niece, Anne, had finally ensnared the young Percy, and the Duke promised to represent them before the King. Why such representation was needed remained obvious to all three of them – Wolsey, the vicious chief lapdog, was going to be there too, and the Cardinal firm no needed counterbalance from another of King’s councillors. Why Wolsey was opposed to the marriage was clear: if Henry Percy, destined to be the wealthiest man in England, took a Boleyn as his spouse, Thomas Howard would immediately receive a powerful ally – and one that was under Wolsey’s sway so far. The Cardinal would always, blindly and relentlessly, deny this option, because of fear. Norfolk was his deadliest enemy, and while snatching Percy from under Wolsey didn’t mean winning the war, it would be an important strategic victory on the Duke’s part. What the Cardinal failed to notice was that whichever way this day ended, Norfolk was still the victor. It could be easier, certainly more beneficial, to have Percy become his family, but if the dully persistent cleric somehow persuaded King to deny this marriage, there was an advantage too. Percy’s hatred. If he was denied marriage by Wolsey’s doing, younger Northumberland would surely focus his efforts on seeing Wolsey deposed, and so the Duke of Norfolk would have an ally with powerful motivations, if not family connections. But, for the sake of other rewards, Thomas’s intention was to see this wedlock approved by His Majesty. For the last time he went through all that he could say, and all possible arguments Wolsey was likely to present, as well as countermeasures against the red dog’s bites. It was going to be a battle of wits and influences. Norfolk was eager to find if today he could topple Wolsey’s dominance. It would be highly amusing to observe the expression on the Cardinal’s face when he was forced, by King’s will, to approve of the match that had the power to speed his downfall, or at the least reduce his influences. Thomas was confident that such thing was possible, but open to the eventuality of defeat. His reasoning already deducted it wouldn’t be a total loss, and the side of him most hateful of Wolsey ran forward to the visions of blows Henry Percy would help him deal to Wolsey’s pride, countenance and station. England was merry, when there were no cardinals among its people. The time was growing nearer and nearer when the rightful nobles would seize the reins of government from this little butcher’s hands. He stopped before the threshold of the official chamber and inspected his clothes. The dark brown silk complimented the colour of his hair, and the gold and gems in the chain hanging from the neck shone in contrast. Norfolk patted his left side twice, in the place were a sword would be. Arms were not allowed in presence of the King, but there would be a fight – a subtler clash of words against word and will against will, in anticipation of the King’s decision that was crucial first and foremost to the young couple. Anne’s uncle spotted this as an opportunity, a political thing. His ambition clouded any human feelings in a thick, black shroud, invisible and unobtainable. Still, he was their best bet in winning the King over to their side, against Wolsey’s. His ego was suitably assuaged and he would do his best to aid them, but they were intelligent, so he doubted they believed he did it from the kindness of his heart. Anyone with the slightest insight into the situation in court knew what he was about to win from this, and he wasn’t going to let it slip due to simple negligence on his side. With confidence and poise always surrounding him, the Duke strode into the room, where both Anne and Henry were awaiting in their best fineries. He stopped a reasonable distance and offered them a nonchalant nod, as well as a smile of reassurance. ”Lady Anne, Lord Henry,” he could see their nervous dispositions, as if they were transparent, open books ready to be read from. He knew his niece to be a strong woman, stronger than Lord Percy probably. They were an interesting pair, she was darker than him, not just about her hair, but something in their personalities cried of almost perfect opposites. And still, they were drawn to each other, one of them flame, another a moth. Thomas had no doubt who was who, yet he didn’t know if Henry Percy would really burn at the end of things. ”I implore you to be of good cheer, for I have every intention of seeing you in church soon.” With that phrase of encouragement, Norfolk turned to the third person present in their vicinity. Cardinal Wolsey was smug and confident, the worse his fall was going to be, for he clearly underestimated the situation. ”Your Eminence,” rarely did Norfolk use proper titles with this parvenu cum murderer, but this time he mocked it and offered him a dark smile. And this was all he had for Wolsey. He just stood straight to the side of those he came to assist, graceful and ready for anything, wondering if the King was going to be late, which none of them could affect. |
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| Anne Boleyn | Nov 29 2010, 03:22 PM Post #5 |
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In the whisper of Henry's light caresses Anne allowed herself to sink gently against him for a moment, letting the illusion of a paired and carried out union to infiltrate all other senses and realities. In that pause of breath she had already won the war, she was his. This meeting, fleeting and far behind them. And then his mouth covered hers and drove away all thought from her, leaving only mutual claim between them. Her heart hammered against her ribcage like a trapped sparrow, her skin buzzed and she was left slightly dazed and winded in the wake of the most chaste of kisses. The hue of her cheeks was no doubt a damning piece of evidence to the Cardinal's gaze but she hardly cared if it was outrageously flaunted in his face or not. She was exuberant and glowing in the effects of Henry's love. So overcome with this golden lightness of being, she even spared the one who stood against her and everything else a soft, tremulous smile. Guileless...the most happy, and as such she addressed him with a disarming twinkle in her eye, "My Lord Cardinal." She bore no ill will, not as of yet; for she felt his defeat was near at hand. Why for then should she set and focus all her will of destruction on him? Only if he sealed their fate within a tomb would he be worthy of her venom. Her uncle's appearance was the lended strength she so sought and took in stride. Her lips curled upward in a shared secret smile, nodding her head knowingly; the alliance of their houses combined to an unbeatable advantage few stood a chance against. "Thank you, Uncle. When that day comes...I pray for you...to see me to the altar." They were all prepared in their own way for whatever awaited them now. Laying her hand gently atop her sweetheart's, she gathered herself to her full height and turned; countenance alight with the expectation of a wish and great desire at long last fulfilled. In those mere moments before the King stood before them she prayed he would remember her fondly from their once and only communication...even better if he remembered her at all. |
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| Henry Percy | Nov 30 2010, 11:28 PM Post #6 |
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Wordlessly, because there was no need for further speech, Henry reached into his shirt and drew out his cross. The meaning behind his action was complete. There was no need for pretty words. Their love formed a bond between them that transcended the mere confines of physical contact and reassurance. It was a connection between them that nobody would even fathom, as if they simply were each other. They could no more be separated from each other as they could be separated from their own bodies. Their love was absolutely necessary to each other, perhaps not a source of delight, but as instruments for each other’s survival. Feeding of each other, becoming the source that flows the spring of each other’s existence, they were interwoven in the exotic fabric of life. Henry’s daily thoughts revolved around Anne, there was not a moment when Anne was not there. To not think about Anne was to not have a conscious thought, because she was so much a part of him. She defined him. Taking the string that held the harsh wooden cross off his own neck, Henry was reminded of the simplicity and goodness from which that cross was given to him. The dying whispers of a mother gone, and a nurse too affected by the melancholy of her ward to tend to her own children, it was given to Henry in the hour of death in hopes of a light at the end of the tunnel. Henry grappled for that light now with all the desperation of a drowning man and knew that it was just within his reach. Slowly, he placed the necklace around Anne’s slender neck, a small smile crossing his cheek as she kissed it, her movements filled with the tenderness, as if the cross were himself. ”For strength, dearest Anne, for our success.” Letting the cross fall between Anne’s bosom, Henry’s expression turned into that of vivid confidence, borne out of his unfaltering love. He bowed low at the Cardinal, a hilarious display of empty idolatry. ”Your Eminence.” His voice was soft, but firm. The respect that he usually held for the Cardinal was still there, but delivered with a voice of stone, a reflecting shield against the gorgon in front of him. "Very well, thank you." He would claim his Andromeda, even while the Gods laughed at him for his foolishness. Then, a necessary smile at the Duke, who was about to join their two great houses. It needn’t have mattered the houses that were joined. He was simply reuniting two halves of the same soul. Although one was moonbeam, the other a thunderstorm, they completed each other in a dynamic force that perhaps held together their own world. The strings that the Fates had assigned them were tied together in a loveknot, a beautiful loveknot as thick and lush as Anne’s raven locks. ”Your Grace.” He bowed again, his actions genuine, instead of the superficial actions he afforded the cardinal. "You shall find no man in better cheer in all Christendom" They were all comrades in this war they would fight together. All it took was the final charge and then perhaps, out of the desperation of a starved and cornered legion, there would be born a final victory. The day was theirs. They would seize it. |
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| Cardinal Thomas Wolsey | Dec 9 2010, 11:50 PM Post #7 |
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The young ones looked nervous. They had every right to be nervous, in his presence. The power and hold the cardinal had over the king was so great that he could make him change his mind with naught but a whisper. He was the king's conscience, the angel on his shoulder warning him of impending doom. Which is what would happen if the houses of Percy and Howard were allowed to join. Already the Duke of Norfolk had a powerful ally in Charles Brandon, the Duke of Suffolk, through the future union of him and his niece, the Lady Catherine. What right had he to try and take the power and love of the king away from Wolsey? He, who served the king diligently since the reign of his father. No other was better suited for politics and government than he. Through decisions made, England's economy prospered, and she was strong. Of course, all the credit for this went to the king; one day, he would get his just rewards. He was sure of it. Mistress Anne only held a short greeting for him, as did Lord Henry. The voice of the latter changed from one soft as wool to one hard as flint. The bow disguised the obvious contempt he was most likely feeling toward the cardinal. "I am glad of it," he said, the tone of his voice reminding him of what he said so many months ago. Outright calling Wolsey the most powerful man in England was a mistake that, if he chose to cross him, would put the future heir of Northumberland's head on the chopping block. Finally, the last member of the party showed up...the duke who would love nothing more than to see the scarlet cardinal ousted, his head set on a pike on London Bridge. "Your Grace." The two hardly afforded themselves the courtesy of titles; he supposed that this day, things changed. Even if it was simply for the sake of appearances. Listening to the light-hearted banter between them, he gave a small scoff. Most definitely shearing the sheep before the wool had a chance to grow in, were they not? The three were already pretty much planning the union. Oh, how he would love to drag this trio down several notches, to let them know they were not as powerful as they thought themselves to be. He would show them who truly held the king's ear, and who helped to make the decisions for England's, and his own, benefit. |
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6:34 AM Jul 11