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| A moment, at last; tag - LC | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Dec 4 2010, 06:33 PM (203 Views) | |
| Elizabeth Grey | Dec 4 2010, 06:33 PM Post #1 |
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Unregistered
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Mid-December, 1511 Sometimes, Lady Elizabeth Grey was inappropriate. Sometimes. Tonight was one of those evenings. With her friend now a Countess, she did not see as much of Lady Catherine as she wished to these days. She longed for her gossip, her smirks and her veiled comments. There was no one at court like Catherine Dudley. No one. And she would have it no other way. How Elizabeth Grey managed to dig down deep and really get to know Catherine, she’d never quite understand. But what was true more than anything, was she had managed it. And Catherine Dudley was an amazing woman to behold. She was a woman of strong moral and religious conviction. She knew the right thing to say at any given time. She was one of the Queen’s ladies. And she had found herself a Countess. To Elizabeth, there was barely a thing wrong with her. That never stopped the Grey from giving her a bad time, however. Luckily, they understood each other. They understood each other better than... well, anyone really. But tonight she had snuck into the Countess’ chambers. Well, more like sweet talked her way into the Countess’ chambers. It was common knowledge that they were good friends, so it wasn’t as if Lady Elizabeth Grey was seen as some sort of intruder. Far from it. She had brought her own elements of fun though. A special mulled wine that she knew Catherine adored, as well as gifts for season. Lots of gifts. Elizabeth came from money and she wasn’t afraid to spend it, especially on such a good friend. On the table next to the fire sat a beautiful gown out of a bold blue that reminded Elizabeth so much of Catherine. The gown was folded perfectly, and once unfolded, one would find ‘The Bondage of Will’ by one Martin Luther. A hard book to find, but she’d managed it for her dearest friend. Next to the dress was a box inclosed with a pearl and cross pendant. On the flip side of the cross was ingraved, oh so small ‘sola scriptura’. A daring gift, perhaps, but it fit Elizabeth and she hoped it would fit Catherine as well. So Elizabeth waited for her good friend to return to her chambers, warming herself by the fire and thinking of when times were simpler. Though really, it was more of an illusion. Court was always complicated. But for now, she wanted nothing more than to sit by the fire, enjoy wine and the Countess’ company. And so being inappropriate did not seem to bother her, so long as a good surprise was involved, Elizabeth reasoned with herself. |
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| Catherine Willoughby | Dec 4 2010, 11:22 PM Post #2 |
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vérité sans peur
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(HOW NOT TO WRITE A POST, PART 1. Yeah, this is so tongue in cheek it isn't even funny, but I hope it's really funny. We'll get to normal threading.) The visit of Elizabeth--one of the few women in the world who could survive the Countess of Warwick's famed droll manner and sharp rejoinders--surprised Catherine, who walked into her apartments expecting to find the beautiful, warm rooms silent and empty but for the fire in the audience chamber that had been burning for some time as the moment she woke she found the world was still once again covered in pristine snow that glittered so it appeared nearly platinum as the sun rose, causing a warm sparkle on what covered the glacial ground, soft underfoot. Standing in the doorway, tall and proud in a magnificent gown of brocade the color of darkly ripened cherries edged in gold that accentuated the best parts of her lovely figure she was nearly discomfited in revealing though covered in swaths of fabric, When her limpid gaze fell upon the impressively exquisite form of Elizabeth Grey waiting serenely for her arrival, Catherine's lips curved upward into a divinely dazzling smile, one that made the cerulean hue scintillate with vivacity. "Elizabeth!" The young woman's melodious voice gave out in tones that spoke of delight at seeing a friend having come to see her. Such a surprise! The presence of Elizabeth made her heart gleeful, for seeing such a friend was always a delicacy best savored, especially if such a visit was astonishing for it was rare. "What in God's name are you doing here?" Despite the incredulity in her intonation, Catherine was sincerely joyful in regards to this surprising visit. Not waiting a second longer to tarry in feeble shock, she moved to the fire to join Elizabeth, her gait that of a woman so self-possessed and achingly graceful with her head held high waiting for the world to be given to her, seating herself with equal refinement, hands clasped, slim, fashionably long fingers entwined as the rings set upon them glimmered and shone most beautifully in the firelight. By the crackling fireside that cast a warm glow upon her person, it only illuminated the paleness of her skin, creating the impression as she sat with impeccable posture that she was a porcelain doll, the only hint of radiant color the slight flush of her cheekbones from her time outside earlier in the afternoon, a gentle pink having been whipped into her cheeks by the frigid winter breeze, accentuating the hollow of her lovely high cheekbones set on a delicately carved face that echoed old forgotten tales of women such a Aphrodite or Helen of Troy, which any woman would envy. Her ingenuous doe eyes, orbs of exquisitely pale sapphire that challenged any who looked her way, were set kindly upon her companion; behind those eyes, Catherine's exceptional mind worked to unravel the reason why her friend was visiting, but yet the glimpse of gifts on the table was reason enough. The two young women, so akin in mind to one another Catherine oft wondered if perhaps they were related in some way as they shared the same joy in derision and repartee, were convening for the reason then of the festive period of winter, not simply because of the snowfall outside they were protected from in the balmy apartments but because of the birth of Christ, who was given gold, frankincense, and myrrh. Such precious gifts would not be exchanged this day, yet the thought behind them was surely as significant for it was a reflection of friendship and kindness; a reflection Catherine herself nearly forgot about, her vision slipping to the table and then to the face of Elizabeth, the warm smile that played on her lips and alighted her eyes faltering for a moment. "I must get my things for you, yet I fear looking at what I see, it shall not be nearly so grand." (SEE WHAT I DO FOR YOU? My brain broke. NO ONE TAKE THIS SERIOUSLY.) |
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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