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| the old world is rapidly ageing...; LC! <3 | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Dec 3 2010, 06:00 PM (149 Views) | |
| Anne Askew | Dec 3 2010, 06:00 PM Post #1 |
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[align=right]2nd January, 1512. 11 am.[/align] She perused the books on display, wondering whether there were any new treatises on Lutheran theologies. Anne peered around the corner of a gigantic stack, hand grasping the cross around her neck to stop it from dangling uncomfortably. It had been a while since she had been at court; she had been unwell, and had retired to her own house-- where her husband had immediately kicked at her horse and refused to help her off. She knew she should never have returned to the house she was meant to be mistress of. It would only ever end in a fight whereby he would once again beat her bloody. How she wished she had the strength of ten men-- so she could kill her loathsome husband. He was not her husband, though the eyes of both the Church and the law disagreed with her. She found a book she had not yet read, and sat herself down on the floor, ignoring the strange looks she got. Anne paid no mind to anyone's opinion-- least of all a man's opinion. She didn't care about the dust on the floor, nor the mud. In any case, Anne would die before she began to care about propriety in a house full of men and their stupid rules and beliefs. She had once heard a wonderful term describing women such as herself: misandry. It made her smile to think that the Greeks had coined such a wonderful word. Yet she found More's Utopia to be an absolute pigs breakfast of ideologies that she put the book down in disgust. "Where are the women writers? Do they not exist?" She mumbled to herself. It was dangerous territory and Anne knew it. She could see the familiar form of Catherine Dudley coming towards her, so she forced a smile to her lips, and went to greet the countess. "Catherine, darling. You're positively glowing!" It was genuine affection that came from her-- the girl was like a daughter to her. |
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| Catherine Willoughby | Dec 3 2010, 06:13 PM Post #2 |
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vérité sans peur
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How long had it been? Months. Yes, they had communicated through carefully worded letters, but that was not the same as seeing one another every day as they did when Anne Askew was amongst the Queen's household under Queen Margaret, which was how they met: Anne the fiery preacher who shocked all in London often, Catherine the obedient Catholic girl who was easily taught. Upon receiving a missive that Anne would be at court, where she likely should not have been, her heart leapt. Oh, it would be wonderful to see her! They shared the grief of losing the Queen, and yet, Catherine looked up to her as a daughter admired a strong mother, in the same way she had looked up to the woman who had given birth to her. As soon as she was able, Catherine eschewed herself from her duties, her heart speeding as she approached the library, knowing Anne would be there. Would she be any different? And oh! The things she had to tell her! The Bible studies, the learning, everything that had been going on in the past months: things Anne would be proud of indeed. She hurried down the corridors, purposefully wearing a dark gown for the heretic woman's approval who had once told her wearing such things was a reflection of corruption and greed, an expectant smile alighting upon her lips as she turned the corner to enter the library. "Anne!" Catherine could not keep the joy from her voice, just as she could not keep her voice down. Anne was most likely not supposed to be here, but she couldn't help herself. Not normally affectionate, she flung her arms around the older woman for a childish embrace. "It has been so long! Are you well? I remember you said you were ill. I prayed for you," she babbled, blue eyes sparkling with happiness at seeing such a treasured friend. She knew others--perhaps no one else--saw Anne as she did, but it didn't matter. When she dropped her arms, the young countess grasped both of Anne's hands in her own, finding it almost funny she was being so effusive when she was known to be so stoic. "Oh, I am so happy to see you. I have so much to tell you! You did get my letter, didn't you?" Here, her voice dipped down into a whisper, though she could not keep the happiness in her tone nor her eyes. "About the Bible studies." |
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[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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| Anne Askew | Dec 3 2010, 06:45 PM Post #3 |
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It had been far too long since she held this girl in her arms. The usually-stoic countess was effusive and rather bubbly this morning. It did not surprise Anne that Catherine had known where to seek her out-- for she was a creature of habit, and anyone who knew Anne well knew she'd be in either the library or the chapel. However long it had been since she'd set eyes on her dear girl, Anne was glad of the effusive and genuine warmth Catherine had towards her. Anne had missed the young countess, and smiled warmly at her as she spoke. She had indeed received the letter Catherine had so thoughtfully penned, and had smiled knowingly about the studies. "I got your letter, my dear Catherine. I am pleased to hear you're still studying your bible and your catechism," Anne dropped her voice as she spoke, for she could never know who was listening. "I desire to meet the young women you mentioned in your letter-- I hear you've taken Elizabeth Grey into your fold." She had heard tell that Elizabeth's brother had been tossed into the Tower over a stupid incident regarding a battle. Anne disapproved of most battles except for those of crusades-- the holy lands deserved to be in the hands of Christendom as opposed to being in the hands of the infidel. "Such terrible business with her brother, though. I feel sorry for the Greys. But surely you have news that's otherwise of great importance? Tell me everything about what has happened in my absence...." After all, Catherine was one of Anne's closest confidants. The girl could tell her anything, and Anne would take her secrets with her to the grave. Loose lips and all that. She took Catherine's hands in her own, and squeezed them affectionately. How the girl had been a comfort to her when she had first come to court. How nice she had been to a battered and broken wife. "My husband still refuses to grant me what I most desire from him. While I was ill, he did not summon a nurse to my side, nor did he...." She abruptly stopped. Catherine did not need to hear of her frustrations with the man she had absolutely no love for, because they were the same frustrations she had shared with Catherine before. While it may have seemed strange to confide in this girl, Anne knew her secrets were safe. |
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| Catherine Willoughby | Dec 6 2010, 12:40 AM Post #4 |
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vérité sans peur
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"Oh, I am so glad you did." The contents were heretical, thus she had requested of Anne to burn it, lest she be found out. Catherine knew probably there were some people who knew she was acquainted with the woman who made quite a name for herself as a most ardent reformer, but that did not worry her. What did was someone coming upon her work at court, her Bible studies with her friends, though she trusted the Archbishop of Canterbury's agreement on such things and his words he had written to her. She believed, oh so foolishly, that she was protected through her own ingenuity and pride. "The lady Elizabeth is a dear friend who questions as I do," she answered, smiling, knowing Anne would like to hear that there were others at court who agreed at least on the subject that things needed to change. Perhaps they were not so fervent as Anne--Catherine herself was not, for she considered herself a daughter of the Roman Catholic Church despite her straying--but they still all wanted to learn more of the risen Lord and His ways previously hidden to them as women. Catherine's lips pursed in thought. Everything that had happened? They had not seen each other for months, and to be honest, she could not really think of any truly newsworthy items of interest. "I was married, in September," she told Anne, unable to hide a small smile of pleasure thanks to being blessed by God with a husband who--despite his ridiculousness--well and truly loved her and cared for her as he ought. "I am very lucky indeed for I am content with that... And oh, you will be so proud of me," she added with a little smirk, "for the Archdeacon Stephen Gardiner is at court and I make it my mission to be a most undutiful goddaughter towards him. I believe I nearly made his head explode in rage when I went to him for confession." Gently she bit the inside of her lower lip to stifle a giggle, yet still it came out. Before, when Anne had spoke of her husband, Catherine avoided the subject like the plague. She did not like what she had heard of this Thomas Kyme, despite knowing Anne was most likely biased heavily against this man who was her husband who did not permit her to do her 'gospeling'. Now, she did not like to hear it, but instead of turning her face with a little wrinkle of distate crumpling her nose, instead there was a wrinkle in her brow of concern as they drew down over her eyes. "I am sorry," she said sincerely, taking Anne's hands in hers, once again thanking God that no matter how much she heard of such things--such abominable treatment of a wife by her husband, who was commanded by God to love her as Christ loved the church--that she would never, ever, ever be in such a position. "I pray for you. That he shall come to his senses, and treat you as a man ought to treat his wife. Not as he does, for I am sure he shall be given quite the surprise when he dies and God is most displeased." As she trailed off, words fading with nothing to revive them, she decided to change the subject. Marriage it seemed was usually such a sad topic for women, especially those who were not just unhappy but cruelly treated. "I would love it indeed if you could come to one of our studies. We have a man sent by the Archbishop of Canterbury--he himself I am sure is a reformer, from what he wrote me, can you imagine that?--who says he will protect us from anyone who wishes us ill in this, if anyone at court finds out... and I am sure the other ladies would enjoy your company and your thoughts..." |
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[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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6:35 AM Jul 11