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War on Christmas; Tag: Katydid
Topic Started: Nov 15 2010, 09:52 PM (394 Views)
Catherine Willoughby
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vérité sans peur
There was nothing more for her to say. Catherine, for once, was at a loss for words as she tried, unsuccessfully, to wipe away and hide her tears. She did not want him thinking she was utterly mad, weeping over something that might or might not happen, but such fears were so deeply instilled in her she couldn't help it. When he asked if she could speak to the Queen about leaving, she simply shook her head, trying to take deep breaths to calm herself from these emotions she kept carefully in check, locked down somewhere, so they could not come out; but whatever skills she had in doing so seemed to have left her for the time being. Her blue eyes were still shiny with tears, despite the comfort found in his embrace.

Staring at her hands in his, Catherine just sighed, blinking away the wetness she felt building up in her eyes yet again. Being so vulnerable with her husband was still a very strange, new thing. Though they had been married a few months, she realized they still did not know each other very well. Not in the same way she even knew Francesca; though she could be open with both Francesca and John, she still felt awkward like this with him, where she prided herself on being so in control of herself and her emotions. "We-- I need to stay here, for Her Majesty. It is my duty," she said, voice bland, as if she had repeated it over and over and was just saying it again to convince herself of it. "Perhaps some other time when I am not so needed."

She shook her head, almost sadly, as she pulled her hands from his. Living at court, like this, with such a position, was an honor; at the same time Catherine found it felt sometimes like a curse. To say she regretted taking on her duties for Francesca, that wouldn't be true, but sometimes she just wished she could go away for awhile, back to how her life was before court and marriage, when everything was more simple, when she did not worry so much. When she did not feel like crying for what should have been a happy event. "I will pray nothing happens and that I shall be content with this," she murmured, choosing her words carefully, as she glanced back up at her husband's worried face, another pang of guilt afresh in her heart for making him worry so much. "I know that I should not be like this... but I cannot help it. It sounds ridiculous, doesn't it? I just can't help it. But... thank you... for listening to me, even as ridiculous as I am being..."
[align=center]"I must shape my own coat according to my cloth, but it will not be after the fashion of this world but fit for me."

Catherine is in 2 threads.
[/align]
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John Dudley
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John didn't feel helpless very often since his father had been executed. The day his father had been executed, and he had been given the Earldom of Warwick, John had been a doer. If he wanted something done, it was done. If it was out of reach, he did his best to find a way to grab it, or he forgot about it. But now, seeing his wife so upset, John Dudley felt helpless, and he liked it not. He liked it not that he could not comfort his most dear and beloved wife, that while he could try to encourage her and comfort her, his words could only do so much. He swallowed hard and squeezed Catherine's hands in his. How could he help her?

A small smile threatened to stretch John's lips, but it did not prevail. He thought about joking that Her Majesty was like a second husband to Catherine the way that she attended her duties to the young Queen. That might just annoy her, as many things John thought were funny did, and he didn't need her to be annoyed at him at a time such as this.

"All will be well." John declared with more confidence than he felt. He kissed Catherine's hands again. "Everything will be alright, I know it will." He smiled in what he hoped was a reassuring way, and then he looked right into her blue eyes with his own. "You are never ridiculous. If there's anything I've learned from you since we've been married, it's that I am ridiculous. Your thoughts, your fears -- nothing is too small for me to know." John lowered their hands and patted hers with his. "Come. Let us lay down, and we can talk a while -- there is nothing wrong with that."
[align=center]John is currently in 6 threads! He can have 1-2 more!

App! | Plot![/align]John Dudley: Minor League Whore

*BEARDY BEARDS*
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Catherine Willoughby
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vérité sans peur
Of course, of course, Catherine's immediate reaction was to protest as she had a job to do. She opened her mouth, only saying "But--" before she cut herself off, biting her lower lip to stop more words from coming from her lips. Despite his reassuring words, it did not work, for she still felt rather consumed by all her worries--and how she could not truly acknowledge them, nor speak of them, for she needed to get back to Her Majesty's apartments to sit about and laugh cheerfully with the other ladies as nothing was amiss at all in her world.

Would it be horrible if she stayed? The prospect of unburdening herself was a tempting one. Catherine had said all she wished, but if some other horrible thought came to mind, she could tell him instead of sit on it and stew on it. Surely that made it all worse, as it always did, for she rarely allowed herself to admit that the haughty, poised facade was just that; she hardly ever had even to those friends closest to her, and had not yet to her husband until today, and he cared enough about her to want to hear these things. Just speaking of them, even though she was being a fool crying although she couldn't well control herself by then, helped lighten the heaviness in her heart, ever so slightly.

"No..." she began tentatively. "And if Her Majesty asks, well, I can-- I can make up some excuse." Catherine paused. "I do not want her to know; she can never see me like this. No one can. None but you." Her voice was weak, embarrassed, eyes dropping to the ground. "I will stay here with you, then," she finished, sounding a little stronger in her resolve, but not by much. Truth be told she had a childish desire for him to simply hold her while she cried, something no one ever did for her, ever. There had been a comfort in it she had never known.

[align=center]CLOSED[/align]
[align=center]"I must shape my own coat according to my cloth, but it will not be after the fashion of this world but fit for me."

Catherine is in 2 threads.
[/align]
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