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hasn't always been like this; bridget o' yorkie
Topic Started: Dec 26 2010, 10:50 PM (257 Views)
John Shilston
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late January 1512

There would probably never be any removing of the victorious smirk spread across his lips, like butter on toast. He had just left the King's chambers, left Warwick's side and was now off to make plans for what lie ahead. Plans that would bring the Duke of Buckingham and Baron Bamford to justice, the poor fools. He walked broad and confidently through Court, seeing the walls with what seemed to be beneath a whole new sort of light. As if finally John Shilston found his place under the King's hand and good favor. Yes, he saw many bright things ahead.. even with talk of war circulating with France, the knight -for now- could see only victory in every aspect.

He would have to send for Anne soon. She had been residing in Lavenham for what, a month now? John had lost track through what seemed to be calm throughout his head, a result in the absence of his otherwise mind-gnawing wife. But with recent happenings, and a bright outlook for the future, Court was her place, by his side as his wife. His eyebrows crinkled if only slightly as he rounded a corner, now walking further away from the belly of Court and towards the other side where his own chambers were. Anne... such an insufferable woman, yet he rather depended on her in an odd, unpredictable way. It irritated him.

But she wouldn't be a cloud on his sunny day. No, try as she might, John decided he would remain invincible to her... ways. He had much, much more important things to worry about other than the happiness of his wife, such as the recent dealings with Henry VIII and the foolish Duke of Buckingham. Oh, thank the Heavens for the Earl of Warwick! He smiled triumphantly; The Fates had been so twisted, yet so fucking fantastical that John nearly wanted to leap in joy. He had been given this opportunity for a reason, and the knight knew that. He had embraced it with every fiber of his being as soon as it was handed to him on a silver platter. Make that gold.

He thought, at that very moment, nothing could damper his mood. It had been a long, long while since he'd felt such weightlessness, such excitement and finally a lack of tension. His eyes were far from where they should have been, wandering about in sort of an aloof manner. Far from the usual stoic, stiff John Shilston. There was a subtle lift in his step and mindlessness about his demeanor as he walked, obvious as he collided right into a lean, pretty blond woman whom he instantly recognized. Keeping his ear firm and constant in the business of Court, he had heard of the Princess Aunt's arrival nearly as soon as she stepped her heeled foot in Base Court. He drew in a sharp breath as he quickly stepped away, recollecting himself almost immediately. "My Lady," he spoke, bending at the waist and offering her a low, knightly bow. "Do pardon. My focus today seems to be a little at whim.."

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Bridget Of York
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All of this still felt like a dream to Bridget. She'd just come from an abbey not but two months ago. After twenty years, it was hard for her to believe that this was her life again. That she could finally throw herself completely into the life she'd dreamt of for so long. Some mornings, she would still pinch herself to make sure that she wasn't dreaming this all up. After all, nothing would worse than for the princess to wake up and find herself back in the abbey. She was free from there. She was gone. And there was no way in hell that she was ever going back.

The princess had decided she would enjoy a simple walk by herself through the castle. Of course, that hadn't gone well, as she'd been accosted by women simpering for advice, or for her favor. Didn't they get that she wasn't going to recommend them to the Queen? She wasn't going to play the games that nearly everyone else at court decided they wanted to play. Bridget wasn't going to deal with that, and she would dismiss anyone who wanted her company simply for the fact that her favour could elevate their station.

She was doing her best to avoid the ladies that had accosted her, and she rounded a corner, thankful for the fact that those blithering idiots seemed to be gone. But of course, she barely had any time to be thankful, for the next thing she felt was a very solid mass collide with her. She looked up and saw a man, who bowed to her and made an immediate apology to her. Apologies she wasn't interested in. She was interested in who he was, and what, exactly, he was doing here. She didn't know him, in all honesty. She hadn't learned every single person that resided at court. It wasn't her duty to know, or remember, all of them, either.

"You should right your focus immediately then, sir." She told him as she waved her hand dismissively. He obviously knew who she was. Of course, nearly everyone at court knew who she was. The King's aunt returned to court? It had been big news. She was recognized by nearly everyone she came across. And she'd adored that. Though, now it was somewhat annoying. "And, good sir, you can rectify this situation by assisting me." She told him after a brief pause. She could use the man to help her get away from those girls that she so desperately wanted to avoid. Now, couldn't she?

"First, of course, I require an introduction from you. And then you'll escort me elsewhere, because I do not wish to be found in the middle of the way. There are some rather troublesome ladies that I wish to avoid."
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John Shilston
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John hardly wavered beneath her scrutiny, something he probably should have expected coming from sheer royalty. His gaze leveled with hers, their shades differing if only by the slightest as they both appraised each other. John, though, could do nothing and say nothing, least he offend the Princess. A low sigh passed through his nose, lowering his broad chest as he stood their for her further review. He only nodded in response as she told him to right his focus, knowing full well what he needed to do. And he did not need the sheltered though oddly flighty Bridget of York telling him. But, as it was, he had to listen, whether he liked it or not the feminine chimes of her voice.

"Rectify, my Lady?" He asked, half-interested yet half-unamused with what she could possibly be intending for the knight. It had been a simple, painless collision; surely it was nothing that needed rectifying. His shoulders squared, though, almost as if in preparation as he waited confirmation. The edges of his lips flickered with a small grin as she demanded an introduction, taking an odd liking to how this Princess Aunt so casually expected his service. How could she not? And how could the mere John Shilston even refuse? "Of course, Your Highness. You should stray far from the likes of any trouble," he began, smirking, "especially when it is that of a pack of wild harpies, much like the ladies you speak of." He finally bent at the waist then, his eyes dropping to the floor as an arm folded at his waist and the other around his back.

"Sir John Shilston, my Lady, at your service." He could expect she heard this a lot, so much that maybe she had already tired of it during her short time back at Court. Very smoothly he straightened back into a stance and offered a single one of his muscular arms. "You said you needed an escort, Your Highness?" He asked, nodding politely as he drew by her side and began a calm synchronization of forward steps beside her. "Do you not think, though, that it is them whom are in the way?" John asked with another grin, knowing that if he was royalty, he would never be the one to impose, to "be in the way" or interrupt. No, it would always be them. In this case, the other noble courtiers that did not share Bridget's royal blood or standing.

"Just tell me where you need to go, my Lady, and I'll take you there." His voice was plain, though held with a firm sense of respect that strayed far from the line of boredom. After all, he could not look so unhappy in the presence of a Princess, could he? Of course not. The knight knew better. "Should I worry, though, about these troublesome ladies following you?" He smirked in light jest, eying her from his peripherals as they continued down the grand corridors.
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Bridget Of York
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Of course the situation needed rectification. A man of a lesser station had run into her. Whether or not the princess had been paying attention, it was the man's fault. He wasn't royalty, even if his attitude alluded to the fact that he thought he was. For all she could care, today especially, this man could be the messiah, and the collision would still be on his hands. He would still be the one that needed to do something to right his wrong. It was simply the way of the world, or so she'd learned lately. Thankfully, she'd had someone remind her what her station required of her, and how she was to act. As was evident, Bridget had put those manners (or lack thereof) into practice.

But she was in a particularly foul mood today. She'd wanted to have peace and quiet, but that simply wasn't going to happen. With those harpies following her, and now this collision with this man, she was never going to get a moment of peace.

Head held high, she looked the man directly in the eyes, her gaze unwavering and stern. “Is rectify not a word in your vocabulary?” Oh, the snark of the woman. Her attitude was uncalled for, it had been a small collision. And most likely it was fortuitous, or would prove to be so later. However, she was tired of her attentions being demanded by all the wrong people. “It means to right a wrong.” She explained, callously. What did she care if the man understood what she said? It was his job to pretend, even if he didn't. Wasn't it? “You're right, sir, I should be devoid of trouble, and make no mistake. Helping me circumnavigate the issues following me will be your penance. However, I've yet to decide if it's sufficient.”

She nodded at his introduction, he knew who she was already, there was no need for her to make some grand introduction. But, her nod said that she was largely unimpressed. There were knights a plenty. They were no particular rarity. She took his arm without a word, and nodded when he asked if she needed an escort. “However, you must realize, Sir Shilston, this means you'll be putting yourself in front of a dangerous breed of vile shrews.” And perhaps if he was a good boy, and made up for the way he'd crashed in her life (literally), he might receive something from her. He asked her if she thought, perhaps, that the others were in the way, and not she. Which, of course, he was right. But would she honestly acknowledge that? “Royalty is never in the way. I simply didn't wish to be found there.”

“I've yet to decide our destination, knight.” She said, her voice venturing dangerously close to boredom. The man seemed so constrained to be respectful, a part of her wanted him to break his temper, and give her some quick and smart remark about how she was behaving, she knew it was horrendous, but she was pushing limits. “The ladies following me should be...dissuaded from following now that there's a beau on my arm.” Of course, this was due to the small reputation she'd garnered over the past few weeks. Besides, one never disturbed a princess when she was in the company of someone else.
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John Shilston
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What a day, he thought, full of royalty. He had spent the morning with no less the King of England, and now he was to tend to the Princess Aunt? The knight wanted to sigh, wanted to apologize and somehow dismiss himself from the likes of Bridget of York; but he couldn't. Maybe he could ask, but to what end? He only wanted to rest, time to plan the capture of Buckingham and Bamford and wanted to perhaps enjoy his wine. But, for now, the Princess would have to be the center of his attentions. Even if she had already proven herself a vile tongue and an impolite demeanor. He would, though, endeavor to take light in the Princess's royal presence. She was, after all, a Princess of Edward IV.

"I can assure Your Highness my vocabulary is wide.." he turned his head and looked at her. "Merely curious as to why such simplicity would require any rectification." His eyebrows furrowed, if only for a moment before he returned his eyes back to the hallways in front of them. Their steps were hardly in sync, and he could hear the ruffle of his skirts nearly bouncing off the marble floors and grand, portraited walls. The edges of his lips unstoppably curled into a small smirk as she spoke of his penance, as if he was some sinner that needed saving and forgiveness by the Almighty Lord Himself. Yeah, right. He shook his head and kept his movements fluid through the corridors, despite Bridget's hankering words. "I can also assure you that I need not your penance, my Lady." Was the Bridget of York so melodramatic? He hoped not. "For I see no harm inflicted upon your person, and if I weren't mistaken," he continued, still smirking. "You've decided to blackmail me so that you may escape these untamed harpies following you."

Oh, could the John Shilston be so bold to a Princess? Yes, yes he could. A silent sigh passed his nostrils as they continued through Court, again reminding him that she had yet given him a destination. Very well, then, he thought, for maybe her later plans would prove quite prevailing of his interests. Though how she called him knight, well, he wasn't so convinced anything was going to be pleasant. But, The Fates could be so very twisted sometimes.. especially times when he least expected it. Such as coming upon Bridget herself. "Vile shrews, Your Highness?" He chuckled breathlessly and shook his head. "I've dealt with worse, I'm afraid." Whatever the Princess had gotten herself into, nothing surprised the knight. Nor frightened him. Especially not a pack of gossiping, jealous girls.

"But, as I've been endowed your service," he continued, nodding his head if only for a moment. "Then I shall do anything and everything to keep you pleased, my Lady. And if that means securing your safety from these vile shrews, then I shall do just that." John sighed again and grit his teeth, finding it quite the obstacle to show chivalry to such royal mouth of annoying belittlement. "Surely though," he flashed her a wayward look and a small grin. "The Bridget of York can find her humble servant a much more interesting task."
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Bridget Of York
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Little known to the pair, they wanted the same thing. A time to relax and enjoy themselves. It was a strange kinship to have with a man that she'd only just met, and commanded about as though she owned him. But, of course, she was completely unaware of it, and would most likely remain oblivious to that fact. You​ can assure me?” She scoffed at him. He was a lowly knight who could assure her. Oh that was a rich idea indeed. She tossed her head back in a laugh and continued along side of her escort knight. This was one of the most amusing thing she'd experienced today. The knight had one thing that went for him. He could bring out a laugh. “It needs rectification, Sir, because you've committed an atrocity. Running into a princess, and therefor, touching her unsolicitedly.” She said, her words coming out in such a belittling fashion. Oh, she truly was in a terror of a mood.

Bridget could hear their footsteps echo in the empty hallway, and her heavy skirts rustling as they walked. It was as good as white noise. Simply a part of the surroundings, nothing to take a particular notice of. But for some obscure reason, she noticed it. Could it be the way the knight was grating her nerves? It was nigh impossible to tell, but she would deal with it. However, the knight by her side said something that caught her attention. Finally. Some spark. When he spoke to her again, he was fiery, and he showed a boldness she'd been looking for at court. Someone completely unafraid to say what they pleased. She smiled. “Unfortunately for you, Sir, I am currently the judge of what you do and do not need. And believe me sir, you wont leave my service until I am thoroughly satisfied with you.” The words, laced with the slightest intent of double meaning, came out sharp, with the same force he'd just given to her. “My reasoning doesn't matter. You have to accept it. Whether you like it or not.” And those might very well have been the words to seal her fate.

If she were any other woman in the world, she'd have been slapped by now. But, she was royalty. John couldn't treat her the way it was acceptable to treat any other lady. She was a princess. That was really the only reason she was safe. But, who said that could save her forever? “Absolutely vile. They've grated my last nerve, and I simply cant make it by to my rooms without accompaniment, due to their idiocracy.” Why the hell was she explaining herself to him? Why was she giving him any ground at all? “If you've dealt with worse, then you'll be acceptable to escort me to my rooms.” She said, matter of factly.

Then her knightly companion continued, telling her he was endowed to her service, he'd do anything to keep her please. If he would have just stopped speaking then, there might have been some hope for him. However, he mentioned the ladies that had been following her, and she sighed. “You're right, Sir Shilston, you will do what ever it takes to keep me pleased.” She told him, a smirk spreading across her lips as she veered away from the corridor they were in, making the man follow her. “If it is a much more interesting task that you wish, sir, a much more interesting task you will have.” She told him, her tone giving away everything, if he truly listened. And all the man had to do was escort her back to either his room or her own.
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John Shilston
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An atrocity? John frowned, if only to himself. Could the Princess really be so... so dramatic? Ah, women. He sighed quietly and only nodded, biting his tongue to argue and protest what an atrocity it was to hear her speak thus. Thankfully his good mood spawned from meeting with the King had yet to be soured, and he refused to let it be the King's aunt that ruined it with her almost embarrassing audacity. He could think nothing of touching her unsolicitedly, knowing this was sheer blasphemy. Even God could see things had not been premeditated, and unsolicitedly was a bit of an exaggeration.

"...until I am thoroughly satisfied with you." His eyebrows lifted if only marginally, naturally and unstoppably thinking of certain implications, innuendos and perhaps even impossibilities. No, no, the Princess could not be that bold. Though flirting with its border was dangerous, risky and maybe even made him anxious, John could not think of such things. Not in the presence of a Princess, and not with the Princess as the object of his thoughts. It would not only be out of his position, but out of this world to think Bridget of York could speak of anything carnal with John Shilston. What if she did, though? No! He had to push these thoughts from his head, least he lose it completely.

"Whether I like it or not," he echoed plainly, smirking and letting out a brief, breathless chuckle. He continued walking, the smoothness of his strides now a sort of silent agreement to her words. As the floors passed beneath their soles, John could think of no better place for the antagonizing Bridget of York to be than her chambers. Behind secluded doors and away from any flirtation of... dangerous lines. "I'm honored, Your Highness," he spoke, almost bitterly, "To be acceptable." A part of him wished he hadn't been acceptable, probably something that would have relieved him of the Princess's demands and left him to his priorities and better-interests. But as he turned to glance at her, catching a quick sight of her pretty face and blond hair, he did, at least for a moment, appreciate her presence. At least the Yorks had produced attractive heirs, no?

His eyes left her, though, as she continued with her words, meaning more and more how much of a servant he was to her. He only nodded, jaw tight, as he began to head to the royal quarters of Court. As she walked beside him on his arm, the knight could only think of just what this Princess had in store with him. And with her further implications of something that shouldn't even be thought of, John was beginning to feel torn. He dealt each blow, though, with a stoic face and quiet demeanor, but he wasn't so sure how things would go once the Princess was behind her doors. "Here we are, Princess," he spoke kindly, coming to her chamber and nodding briefly to the ushers standing just outside of it. "I do hope here you are safe from the shrews," he added with a grin, carefully releasing her arm and extending his own towards her doors, them having been opened by the finely-dressed pages. "Is there anything else I can do, Your Highness, to ensure your contentment?"
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