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Brotherly Love; Tag: AA
Topic Started: Jan 2 2011, 01:37 AM (311 Views)
John Dudley
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February 3, 1512

Finances. Finances. Dear God, if others didn't get to John first, the finances would. He still had no secretary, despite a serious contemplation of procuring one, and so the finances continued to come in a deluge. What was worse was that they had seemed to multiply since the business with the Duke of Buckingham and his arrest, and John thought that he would soon go mad. It was looking to be a real possibility.

And though it was fairly early in the evening, the Earl of Warwick was tired. There was part of his afraid that the Duke's allies would lash out at him -- it was, after all, his and John Shilston and Henry Percy's doings that got him arrested, and it was in Warwick's rooms that the Yeomen had restrained him. And this added stress was exhausting him. Certainly, the source of any act of his life would be plainly seen, but it was not comforting in the slightest.

The quill scratched away on the papers, and John's eyes began to grow heavy. He slowly inched towards his desk, closer and closer, and his writing slowed and grew larger, more loopier. John's eyes closed once, then opened slowly, closed again, and then flickered. He finally sagged down the last couple of inches to his desk, his left cheek resting upon the smooth wood, and a soft snoring issued from him. His quill was still gripped between his fingers, blackening them, and leaving a puddle of ink upon the paper where it had stopped writing.
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Andrew Dudley
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Andrew didn’t know why he was here, especially after last time he was asking for money, but this time he actually might need it. He was miserable after Christina left; he honestly did not know what to do with himself. He was lost. It might have been a good time when he actually needed his brother’s guidance, but Andrew knew well enough that John would likely kill him if he found out what he had done.

He didn’t know why he was here, whether it was money or if he actually thought he could get guidance from his brother. But as soon as he saw John snoring away Andrew thought of two things, one he realised that he wasn’t the only one with worries (John did just have to deal with his wife not only being arrested but losing their child also), and two with all that ink around his brother, he got the sudden urge to draw on him.

So he took a step closer and then another. He studied his brother for a while, waiting to see if he actually was asleep. To test this, once he reached John’s desk, he first blew in his face, waited and if John still didn’t rouse he poked him. If there was still no response, then Andrew would lean in, curiosity getting the better in him as he whispered into John’s ear. “I got a Princess pregnant.” Even if John was awake, there was a high chance that he may not believe Andrew with all the lies he spilt, but there was also another chance that John would believe him and all Hell would break loose. But there was nothing to worry about, was there? John was fast asleep, wasn’t he? Andrew almost laughed, not for being the intolerable man he was, but because this was the first time after he was told, after his Princess had returned home that he had said it aloud and for a mere moment it felt as weight had been lifted off his shoulders.

It didn’t matter there was no one here to hear it, or so he thought. Stepping away from John, he glanced around, checking and double checking that his harpy of a sister-in-law wasn’t around, or anyone else for that matter. And then realising that he really had no reason in being here, he took another step back and turned towards the door, but he would never make it out.
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John Dudley
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John's lips were parted as he snoozed, and drool slowly began to accumulate and drip from the corner of his mouth. He was beginning to have an odd dream that was extremely cloudy, but he knew he was hunting a stag. It was spring again. God, John loved spring. Winter was such a dumb season anyway, nothing to do. In his dream, he continued stalking the stag, his crossbow seeming to weigh nothing...

He didn't even stir when his brother entered, and he continued to sleep as Andrew drew closer. His ears thought they detected something, but John stayed asleep. His nose tickled when Andrew blew upon it, but it wasn't enough to entirely jerk him from his dream. The poke might, and it did bring John closer to consciousness, but he still wasn't quite there.

However, feeling the movement of air upon his ear and the treble of Andrew's voice caused John's eyes to open, all memory of the stag dream eluding him. Wait... what? "I got a Princess pregnant..." The words replayed in his head. Groaning, John sat up, a thread of drool stretching as he did so, and he saw Andrew's receding back. "I got a Princess pregnant..."

"Andrew..." John called, his brow furrowing. His mind was still hazy from sleep, but he heard what he heard. "Did -- did you just say what I think you said?" He was tried, but he wasn't that far gone. His brow was creased like an old piece of paper as he stared at his brother. "You what?"
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Andrew Dudley
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Andrew of course, never made it to the door. He paused and cringed when he heard his name being called in that deep voice he so dreaded. He shouldn’t have said anything, especially not that! Stupid fool, stupid, stupid! He couldn’t escape now, he had to face his brother and take the lashing like a man, he deserved it after all he had done. Of course he hadn’t thought of the consequences until now, and even so, he wouldn’t have any idea at all on how exactly his dear brother would punish him. Though it was John’s fault after all, wasn’t it? Wasn’t it John who said to stick to one woman rather than how ever many Andrew had been sleeping with before?

He didn’t turn around for a long time, but when he did it was clear that Andrew wasn’t a man at all, but a boy or teenage rather who was about to get a talking to by an older relation. For Andrew knew what was coming, it seemed only he could bring out John’s temper and so easily at that too. Finally, he turned around, but at least he was smart enough not to approach the desk, he didn’t want to be within reach of those fists. He stayed put, rubbing at his arm awkwardly. There was no turning back now, even if Andrew had only been joking, he at least wouldn’t joke about having bastards, because he hated the thought didn’t he?

“I err…I…” He paused. If Andrew was stumbling over his words than something was up, most times you couldn’t get the man to shut up, which is probably why John had a short temper with him. Andrew frowned and dropped his arms by his sides, his hands clenching into fists lightly. He was ready for another shouting match with his brother, because that’s all they seemed to do nowadays, which only made Andrew hate his brother more, or rather be jealous of his power and wealth. “You told me to cut down on my ladies…so I did. I stopped completely, even stopped drinking as much as I used to. But well, the one said lady was the Princess of Denmark, which is why she has left court, because…” He paused again, afraid to confirm the news that Andrew had over stepped his mark more than he had ever done in the past. “…because she is having my child.”
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John Dudley
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Right away, Andrew's demeanor spelled everything out for John. He knew something was really wrong, something was really, really wrong. He couldn't be serious about the Princess thing, could he? What had he done? John sat up straight in his chair, his quill forgotten and laying on his papers and his fingers making marks upon the paper. The entire situation of finances was forgotten.

John's blue eyes slowly widened at Andrew's hesitation to speak. He couldn't be serious, he couldn't be serious, he could not have done this. By the time Andrew suddenly spoke, John's eyes were as big around as small apples. He kept on thinking, Be joking, be joking, come on, you couldn't have done this... But then Andrew laid it out -- He had impregnated the visiting Princess of Denmark, and she was leaving because of it. John let out a shuddering breath and bowed his head. His fingers reached up, tugging at his hair.

"What in the world were you thinking?" John's hands fell to his desk as he looked up to his brother. "A Princess? A Princess?! I told you to cut down on your women right before you were betrothed -- That wasn't -- How could --" John clapped both hands to his face, letting out a muffled groan. How could his brother even think to turn any of the blame on him? A Princess? John's hands slid down his face, leaving a black smudge on his right cheekbone because of the ink on his fingertips.

John's lips pursed. Between his wife being arrested, being sucked into a treasonous plot, and his and Catherine's child being lost, he had enough. He had enough of his brother shirking all responsibility, and damn it, Andrew was going to hear it. "Don't you ever think before you do anything? Don't you have any respect for you, for me -- for the people who have to clean up your messes?!" John pursed his lips, trying to find words for what he wanted to say. "Our father didn't think before he did things, and you know how that turned out -- he got his head cut off. Do you want the same to happen to you? You got a foreign Princess pregnant. Have you lost your senses?!"

John was on a roll now, he felt like he couldn't stop, and everything that he had ever thought about Andrew was suddenly pouring out of him. "Good God, man, have you thought about how your actions affect mother? Elizabeth? Jerome? God, I don't care if you think how they affect me, but this is just -- just -- ridiculous!" He wanted to pace, but at the same time he felt compelled to sit, because he didn't want to do the same to Andrew as he did Gardiner. Andrew was his own brother, but John still wanted to beat sense into him. He wouldn't. "Just how much of a fool are you?!"
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Andrew Dudley
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Andrew could only just stand there, he had lost all hope. He had actually felt for this Princess and now she was gone. He actually felt dead already, but still the thought of his head being removed from his shoulders shocked him to lift a hand to his neck. His eyes had gone wide now, he hadn’t thought of that little detail. He knew there were consequences for his actions but he didn’t think it would be something that severe. Though that is why he kept it secret didn’t he?

He frowned as he was reminded of the arranged betrothed mess. He let his hand fall to his side again, fists reforming again. “The betrothal that is no more And I am not our father and I am not you nor will I ever will be.” It seemed now that it was Andrew who was losing his temper faster than John was. “Our mother? Jerome? What have they ever done for me? Nothing!”

It was Andrew who paced instead of his brother. Anger rose through him as if he now decided to hate everyone because he couldn’t have his Princess. “No! You got everything brother, didn’t you? A title, a wife, all of mother’s affections, why do you think I act up so much? And the one time someone actually loves me, I can’t have her, because I am nothing compared to you!”

Andrew wanted to punch something, but he would never in a million years punch his brother. He had enough of the fights and you can think him a coward for he knew he was no match for John. But then wouldn’t he want it, to be beaten to a pulp or even dead? Maybe he’ll let John tell the King of what he had done, but would John do such a thing knowing that they were of the same family and his name would be brought down too?
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John Dudley
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It would have been foolish to hope that any of John's words would really change Andrew at all, whether it be his actions or his feelings, or anything of the above. Still, it aggravated John that Andrew try to defend himself. What could be rational or justified about impregnating a foreign princess?! But then, when Andrew asserted that their mother had not done anything for him, John's mouth gaped open. What?!

"Our mother raised us when our father was busy at court and entrenching himself in treason!" Oh, John was beginning to quake with rage. How dare Andrew speak of their mother so lightly. "You are selfish, you have always been so utterly selfish, and this shows it! Yes, yes, all of your entire life has been due to you, to you and your wonderful capabilities, and yet where I stand --" There was no going back now, and John didn't want to. His voice had spiked in volume and furor, and his hands shook into fists at his side. "You have done nothing except embarrass our family's name! But of course you do not care about that as long as the wine and women are in!"

Andrew's own resentment against John shocked him -- How could Andrew be mad at such a thing? John was the eldest, John had given their father to the King, John had married because he wanted to and he loved Catherine! How could this have been anything for Andrew to get mad over? However, John verbally attacked his brother with another course. "It is because of my actions and that title that you are here at court and not in Dorset with mother, disgraced just like me, and with us having to scramble to survive! If I hadn't attained this title, we would be even poorer than country knights in the wake of destruction that father left us!" A vein was bulging in John's throat, his face was turning red, and the volume of his voice had not lowered. "If you have such a problem with me taking on the responsibilities that father left us and actually proving myself worthy of my title, perhaps you should do something about it!"

The fury was overwhelming John, and then he had it -- he had a solution to Andrew. "Since mother and I and our family have never done anything for you, and since I am such a bastard to have achieved a title and a wife and deserved affection because I have done what I am supposed to, I'll tell you what, Andrew!" John bared his teeth and slammed his hand against the desk. The ink pot fell over. "I shall continue to be the domineering bastard I am, and from this day forward, you are cut off. You'll receive no allowance or financial funding of any kind from me, and since mother has never done anything from you, don't you dare go running to her to help you!" John was panting, his eyes were almost bulging with fury. "I have had it with you mucking things up for our family, I have had it with you whoring and drinking and wasting what you could be if you only put forward the effort! If you want to survive at court from now on, do it on your own, I shall no longer be any help to you!" And with that, John was panting, staring at his brother with cold blue eyes. And while he tried to catch his breath from yelling, he felt something like cool relief slip into his body, and that was probably the only relief he had felt in the past month from the troubles of his mind.
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Catherine Willoughby
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What was that?

Disoriented from sleep, Catherine heard much noise coming from one of the rooms in their apartments. She had retired early, going to bed right after supper in the great hall. Wondering exactly how late it was, she sat up, wondering what on earth the sound was that had drawn her from her restless sleep. It sounded like raised voices, muffled, not even something she recognized. For all she knew it could have been coming from the hallway, or outside, if some courtiers were mad enough to go wandering out after dark like this when it was so dreadfully cold.

Once she climbed out of the big bed, the room empty but for the spitting and hissing of the fire in the grate, Catherine took a robe and wrapped it around herself, over her night rail, wandering out of the bedroom, pausing in the doorway. Silence. Great fat tapers lined the walls as they always did, offering minimal light. The noise certainly was a voice. She had a feeling she knew whose it was, but why would John be yelling so? She had hardly ever heard him raise his voice, except with his brothers.

Cold feet on the cold wood floors brought her to peek into the room John used as an audience chamber as well as where he dealt with such things as missives, finances, and other business. Yes, that was her husband's deep voice, and he was yelling with fury she didn't know someone so easy-going could ever muster. Catherine caught his words, standing there behind the door, a hand on the handle, hesitating, wondering if she should go see what was going on exactly.

The moment she pushed the door open and stuck her head in, plait of long dark hair falling over her shoulder, she saw her husband rail furiously at Andrew and surprisingly Catherine felt slightly bad for her incorrigible, stupid brother in law who had no sense of propriety or duty. She looked from her husband to her brother in law, blue eyes wide, surprised at this family feud she had just walked into, wondering what sort of idiocy Andrew had gotten himself into to elicit such a furious reaction from John.

"What is going on? It's late," she asked quietly, wondering if she could even be heard considering the two were staring at each other, John looking as if he would happily kill his brother. "What is the matter?" Catherine's voice, addressing her husband, was not acidic and sharp as it often was in Andrew's presence; it was soft, gentle, concerned even. She desperately wanted to ask her brother in law something along the lines of What in God's name did you do? but she refrained from it. Speaking sweetly to John would probably calm him, enough to get them both to shut up. She was trying to be good about all this, instead of snapping at her brother in law who looked like he wanted to bolt from the room in terror at John's rages. Tragedy had at least brought a little grace to her, softening her sharp edges.

(This is crap, but whatever. XD)
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Andrew Dudley
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No, John wouldn’t tell, not to the King anyway. He probably wouldn’t want to know Andrew after this. His rage, as always, topped any rage Andrew could ever feel. Andrew wouldn’t be surprised if all of court heard his brother yelling at him. But despite all that he had went through, he probably did deserve it. He and Jerome liked testing the Earl of Warwick, but it was always Andrew who went too far. Maybe it was the middle child syndrome as why Andrew tended to act up more, but what ever it was, Andrew was lucky that John didn’t march him to the King and let the King deal with him.

Yet still no matter how much Andrew deserved it he was shocked when it was decided that he would be cut off from his allowance. He took a stumbled backwards as if John had hit him with his powerful fist. He blinked and just stared. He wasn’t serious was he? What would Andrew do without his allowance? He knew nothing of the world and how to live in it on his own. But maybe he should have thought of that before he pushed John and pushed him some more.

He was utterly speechless. He was close to panic, almost fell to his knees and begged, but no he wouldn’t stoop so low, though he should have. He was a stupid fool and stubborn. A real man would have attempted to make amends, shown how sorry he was for causing the family such pain, but no Andrew couldn’t do it, wouldn’t. He just wanted out of there and fast. He stumbled back again, rubbing his cheek now as if John really had hit him. A deadly silence hung over them, before it was broken by a woman’s voice. Andrew blinked and stared. He wasn’t really registering that it was Catherine, the sister-in-law he loved to tease, but not tonight.

It felt as if a mutual agreement had been made, because tonight was not the night for childish games. And then something weird happened, Andrew suddenly forgot his predicament and realised that this was the first time he had been in Catherine’s presence ever since she had made it out of the Tower, ever since she had lost her child. Her approach and appearance in a room of angry males calmed Andrew. He realised that this wasn’t the way to act in front of a Lady, even if she was the harpy sister-in-law he loved to annoy (which he would have loved to do seeing her dressed thus). Christina had changed him in that prospect, she wouldn’t have approved of his behaviour, but it was her leaving that had made him feel so miserable, more the failure that he was.

Ignoring John and his anger for the moment, Andrew bowed his head in apology. “Forgive… us Lady, I’m sorry…I’m sorry for your loss.” He stumbled over his words as if he was drunk, but he was quite sober, as sober as he had ever been at least. He backed up to the door, fumbled for a moment before he pushed backwards and slipped out the door, escaping the Lion den before the Lion could see him a threat being so close to his precious and now delicate Lioness.
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John Dudley
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The only thing that could give any hope for John's anger to be quelled was Catherine, but even with her appearance it was doubtful. John's inked fingers smudged against his palm as his fists clenched and he looked at Catherine with unbridled rage for his brother in his eyes when he heard her soft voice. The fact that his shouting had woken his wife from slumber should have chastised him, should have made him move towards calmness in this wake of calamity, but on the contrary, it stokes his anger higher. Andrew had caused him to disturb the rest of his wife, had caused her to wake up and wonder just what was going on in her own apartments.

Warwick looked to his brother, seeing that something had effected him. Whether it be his brother's words or wife, he couldn't say, but John was satisfied to see such a look upon his brother's countenance. He wished for more, he wished for more hurt and torment in Andrew's face to make up for all the years John had spent wrestling with his own self about his brother, but this would have to do. "If you ever think to come back, come back on your hands and knees!" John shouted as the door closed, making sure that Andrew would hear it if nothing else.

His chest rose and fell with his anger, and John righted the ink pot that tipped over. A pool of ink bubbled over several papers -- they would have to be salvaged or redone, but not now -- in the morning. The man leaned on his desk, his breathing slowing as he stared off into the distance. Finally, it slowed and he wiped the smudged ink on his fingers before turning towards Catherine. "I'm sorry for waking you. Andrew, he -- he -- He is no longer welcome, if you didn't already gather that." John didn't really want to tell Catherine was Andrew had done, and now it struck him most bitterly.

Andrew was going to be a father before John was. Andrew and Christina of Denmark would deliver a baby, when he and Catherine lost one of their own. Now John didn't want to breathe a word of it to Catherine, he didn't want to risk her being pained because of his brother's stupid, stupid actions.
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Catherine Willoughby
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Glancing from one to the other, Catherine did not bother to hide her surprise at her brother-in-law's rather gentlemanly conduct. Never would she have expected such a thing, but when he spoke, she winced. She did not want to be reminded. She needed no reminding of it; apologies only made her remember what had happened, and although the ache was dull, it hurt nonetheless. Part of her wanted to say thank you for his surprising kindness, but she couldn't. Instead her eyes dropped to the floor like a child chastised.

There was silence, after John got out one last parting shot. Catherine was used to being furious herself; she was not used to seeing such a trait in her easy-going husband. She did not know how to handle this. Pursing her lips, eying the closed door her brother-in-law had slunk out from, she considered the things she knew Andrew to do: whore, gamble, drink. All men did it. John surely had before they married but he was sensible, at least, to remain constant to her. Why would he be so upset over such things, like how they upset Catherine, knowing her money was going to provide for his dissolute habits?

"What did he do this time?" she settled for asking, stepping towards her husband, yet keeping her distance, watching him with a slightly tilted head. Catherine was no fool, she could tell he was tightly wound still, despite his explosion of temper at Andrew. If he hadn't burst into flames already, he still could. Never before had she tread lightly about her husband but now seemed a good time to start, wary at this new temper she was meeting for the first time in their nearly six months as a married couple.

Tentative, she decided to get a little closer, frowning at the change in his face: from so very angry to...something like hurt. Catherine wondered what it was. Looking down at the floor, she made her way to his chair, gently touching his shoulder. "What has gotten you so angry?" She was going to be the wife who listened, just as he always listened to her; it was what she was supposed to do, curb back on her own temper to help him when he was faced with his. Brushing the back of her hand against his cheek, ignoring the rough feel of the stubble, she found she was worried about him. Would he even tell her?
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John Dudley
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Straightening up and taking his weight from the desk, John's lips pursed at Catherine's first question. He could answer that with another question. By now, what hadn't Andrew done short of cuckolding John and usurping his title and responsibilities? His latter part seemed laughable and impossible, especially with Andrew shirking any responsibility at all. But now John wouldn't be contributing at all towards his brother's wasteful life of vice and God knew what else!

But now wasn't the time to worry about what he could do, it's what he did that woke Catherine up. And at her gentle touch upon his shoulder, John knew that he couldn't keep it from her. It was something like lying, and he would never lie to his wife. She had just as much right to know as he did, for she was a Dudley now. "Andrew..." John said slowly, and then let out a shuddering breath. There was no way to make this sound good in the least. The man reached up, taking Catherine's hand as he broke the news to her.

"The Princess of Denmark has left court because she is with child. Andrew's child." John closed his eyes and let out a sharp exhale. Perhaps if he moved on quickly, his words wouldn't hit home as hard as he feared. "I don't know what else I can do, he -- he resents me! He resents me because I'm doing what I can with what I have, and he does nothing -- Nothing! The way he sometimes looks at you, I..."[/b
He sighed again and bared his teeth. "I don't even think of him as my brother anymore. The only thing I can do is no longer support his habits I... I'm sorry to have woken you." He turned his head to his wife and sighed. "I'm sorry."
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Catherine Willoughby
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She was very still when he told her. That was not what she had expected. Catherine let out a soft groan, closing her eyes for a moment, shaking her head as she opened them. It hurt, but that was simply jealousy. She willed it to leave her, yet it wouldn't. So the dissolute brother who resented John was going to, in some way, have what was to be theirs. Of course, she realized, it being that he had done such with a Princess--a Princess?! What a fool!--he would have no contact with her or the child. Before, she would have thought it fitting. Now, she felt almost sad for him. But he deserved such a talking to from John, always too soft on his siblings when they needed discipline they obviously had lacked from their mother.

"Then it is good you have finally washed your hands of him," she said decisively, tugging at his hand. Catherine would not voice any sympathy she had towards Andrew. Not now. Perhaps later, if she felt like speaking to him; not in front of John who surely still wanted to strangle him with his bare hands. "He is a fool." Her tone was not so harsh as it usually was, dispensing her opinion regarding her brother in law, but she was tired and she wasn't feeling quite up to gathering her rage. Her purpose was to calm John, not encourage him further. It was late, not the time for this.

Exhaling a sigh, she simply told him, "It's not good for you to be so angry. Come to bed, it's late. I'm tired." She mustered up enough for a little grin, though it was devoid of humor, her eyes not sparkling but dull. "You did wake me up, after all, and I wish to go back to sleep."
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John Dudley
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He heard the groan, and immediately John wished he had punched Andrew. it was so unfair, and John was not one to complain about things being unfair. Sure, it was unfair that he had to choose between his father and his king, it was unfair that John had to act in some sort of paternal capacity to his siblings, and it was unfair that treason seemed to have a habit of attaching itself to John's name. Life was unfair. But to have his brother become a father through illegitimate means with a royal princess before John could do so with his wife was like rubbing salt into a wound. John turned his head and kissed his wife's hand just before she spoke for the first time.

He knew that she would support his decision; after all, she had made it clear on her thoughts about Andrew spending money for worthless causes. "He is." He agreed with the naming of Andrew as a fool. How had he turned out so? John had a good head upon his shoulders, or so he believed. And certainly, in his past, he did enjoy drinking now and again and he did not refuse the amorous advances of some women, but he had never made a life out of it. He wasn't that sort of man. How had Andrew become what he was?

He looked up at his wife and her mirthless smile and he nodded simply. He wasn't going back to his papers after such a thing happened, and his wife deserved to sleep with her husband. "I am sorry for waking you." John apologized once more, rising and still holding his wife's hand. he paused for a moment, long enough to kiss his wife on the crown of her head. For a moment he was struck with the thought that Andrew would never be able to do the same with the Danish princess, they would never get to share a bed as husband and wife. And part of John was glad -- Andrew didn't deserve such a happy thing. "To bed, my dear."

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