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Romance me; tag JShils
Topic Started: Nov 26 2011, 09:46 PM (148 Views)
Anne Shilston
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*July 1499*

Anne had been betrothed to John Shilston as long as she could remember. She couldn’t remember when it was actually announced, but that may have been the reason why she had wanted to flirt with other men. She more or less did it unintentionally, but how easy it was for her to attract a man’s eye when she was one of youngest ladies at court. She didn’t truly know what was right or wrong, she never really met her father, at least she couldn’t remember if she did and her mother died when Anne was but a child so she never really had much guidance from parental figures. She tended to quite ignore her Governess, and her brother Charles always seemed to be too busy for her with his royal friend, so she was mainly left on her own. And that is how she had fallen in with the friends that she had. It was by their influence that she flirted or at least came into a significant man’s eye, but she was quite aware that she was promised to another.

She had met John a few times before, as much as was allowed and if the opportunity arose. And she had already felt herself building a crush on him, so the last thing she wanted to do was to ruin herself before she was ever able to be married. Whenever her group of friends found a group of males to entertain themselves with, Anne always ended up daydreaming about her John, even resorting to searching for him in the crowded ball room. Sometimes she hoped he would see she needed to be saved and if he did she might have been lucky to receive a dance, or maybe even a stolen kiss. Just the mere thought gave her butterflies. And it was all because of her friends that she had them now.

She had been walking with her friends around the grounds, and had been daydreaming when she heard her name. “Anne! Anne! Isn’t that your betrothed?” Anne blinked and looked up. “It is! It is! Look how handsome he is!” Anne blinked again and followed her friends’ gaze and there sparring with another man was her betrothed, and he was shirtless. Her breath caught and already she could feel her heart pounding at the mere sight of him. “Go and give him a kiss! I will if you don’t!” Anne blushed and shook her head, yet she could not take her eyes off him. She watched as he moved, his muscles flexing and coated in sweat as the sun’s rays made him shine. He more or less looked like a Greek God, at least in her eyes. Her cheeks reddened more at the mere thought that John was her betrothed and she would marry him one day. And it would be soon. She was a woman now, her bleedings proved it. His Majesty and her betrothed’s parents only had to set a date.

With the eldest of her friends becoming bored at Anne’s hesitance, she stole Anne’s handkerchief and threw it up in the air. There was a soft breeze, but soft as it was, it was enough to take hold of the handkerchief and deliver it right by John’s boots. It flew by his line of sight, spun in a circle before it landed at his feet. Without even thinking, Anne gasped and hurried to retrieve her precious piece of cloth, only to remember that she was heading into the line of fire! She gasped and let out a yelp as she dug her heels in to stop herself before she could collide into one of the men, but in doing so, she lost her balance and fell backwards into the dirt. Well now her whole face turned red if it possibly could and she turned back desperately hoping her friends were coming to her aid, but they were nowhere in sight!
[align=center]PLOT: :BIO: :TRACKER

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John Shilston
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John would have to be sure to thank his mother and father for sending him to court. Oh, he felt sorry for his sisters back in Lavenham, felt sorry for his crippled aunt and whoever else remained in that blasted manor.. he was happy to be rid of it! Rid of them, even, and the seventeen year old John Shilston kept his familial contact restricted to one, two letters a month. Life at Henry VII's court was quiet, yes, but John had managed to stir up his own form of amusement, surrounded by his comrades and whatever they could get their hands on. He was often times still whipped and punished for his trespasses or "acting as if a degenerate," but that had never stopped him before. Today he and his friends had taken their antics away from the palace (at the relief of their guardians,) and picked up their sparring sticks and took to the palace grounds.

It was not long before the summer heat had the number of boys sweating at their backsides, and even shorter before they all stripped themselves of their jerkins and shirts and tossed them to the ground. John wasn't the most built out of his comrades, but he came in a close second and constantly rivaled another nearly a year older. Today was no exception, and picking back up his sparring stick, John positioned himself in front of his friend and proposed a challenge, smirking beneath the glint of the sun. As always his comrade, Edward, rose to the challenge, his own grin just as eager as he took position in front of the future knight. Almost immediately the two came together, their wooden swords clunking against each other with every swing. Light on his feet, John and his comrade moved in a tight circle, pivoting on their heels and swinging their sparring sticks with every opportunity given. His muscles were bulging and the sweat over them was nearly shining in the sun, and with one final swing he aimed to disarm his opponent, only to be distracted by a brief, white flutter of cloth in the corner of his eye.

Pausing, John turned his head and watched the handkerchief fall soundlessly to the ground, and though Edward had stopped swinging his sparring sword, it did not seem to be the end of things. In a confused flurry of mindless desperation, John's eyes managed to catch the very sight of a girl chase the stupid piece of cloth and fall right onto her back into the dirt. Lifting a single eyebrow, John took a step backwards and chuckled, his friends around him too trying not to burst out into laughter. Eying the girl, John had quickly come to see it was his betrothed, and only then did his smile fade and he came to her side. "Anne?" Kneeling beside her, John touched a hand to her chin and turned her head so that she faced him, and with a warm smile he only shook his head and rose back to his feet. "What were you thinking?" Taking her hand, he gently helped her to her feet and lightly brushed away the dirt on her gowns. "At first I thought it was Edward here surrendering," he chuckled again and fiddled with the wooden sparring stick in his hand. His bicep bulged ever so slightly with the movement. "What with a white flag and all."
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Anne Shilston
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Anne hadn’t been thinking anything, just the retrieval of her handkerchief. And now she sat like a stupid fool in the dirt. Oh what would her mother think? This certainly was not how a woman should act, even one as young as she. And it certainly was not how a sister of Charles Brandon should act. But while he was in the limelight, she was in the shadows because she was but a girl; a burden, until she was to be married and could start her own family. But most importantly, it was not how the future wife of John Shilston should act, what if she had embarrassed him in front of his friends?

Looking quite shameful once he had come to her rescue, which happened to be after he had laughed at her. She felt quite sorry for herself now that she had so gullibly walked herself into the trap that had been set by her friend. When John came to her, she didn’t turn to him until he himself guided her gaze his way. Her breath caught as she looked deep into those sparkling blue eyes of his. They captivated her and it wasn’t until he rose was she able to speak. She hesitantly took his hand and pulled herself up, stepping to the side so that John’s taller, bulkier frame hid much of her from the scrutiny and amused eyes of his friends. She waited silently for a moment, allowing him to brush much of the dirt from her skirts before she managed to mumble. “I…my friends…stole my handkerchief…and left me.”

She glanced off to the side staring at her handkerchief still in the dirt, and then to his friends behind him, before she caught sight of his muscles bulging from the slight movement. Her eyes could only stare and a hand came up to touch them, but she stopped herself and snapped her hand away before letting it fall, and clasp her other in front of her. Normally, Anne could be a flirt but not on her own like this and not with him looking like that, with him she felt different. Sure she could flirt with him in the Great Hall, but nothing could happen there right? And then suddenly a thought occurred to her and her eyes went a little wide and she whispered expectantly. “You didn’t hear them did you, my friends?” That would just make this meeting more awkward than it already was. If he did hear her friends about kissing him, would he see this all just a ploy to gain said kiss? It hadn’t been her doing, but it most certainly had been her friend’s intention.
[align=center]PLOT: :BIO: :TRACKER

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John Shilston
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To think, this was to be his wife? Looking at her, dirt over her brightly colored gowns, her cheeks red with embarrassment, John was sure he had never seen anything more precious. He could not help but laugh again as he'd finally brushed the dirt from her skirts, hearing that her friends had seemingly put her up to this charade. His friends joined in and they all shook their heads, finally turning to resume their practice with themselves a few yards away. John remained, though, at Anne's side, and turned to face her with a quirked grin. "Well they surely don't seem like friends to me," he replied, flashing a subtle wink at her as he continued to fiddle with the sparring stick in his lowered hand. Glancing to the ground, John slipped the tip of his wooden sword beneath her handkerchief and picked it up by the sparring stick. With it still dangling over the end of the wood, John angled it towards her and winked again. "Who would have known a piece of cloth would be so important?" Chuckling breathlessly, John shook his head and looked at her in the yellow sunlight.

"Hear who?" He suddenly asked in response, lifting his eyebrows. "Your friends?" Other than the chattering laughter, of the silly giggling, John had heard nothing. Glancing over his shoulder to his friends who had picked back up their wooden swords, John briefly wondered if he should have heard anything. "Not a word. But I can already assume what was said..." a playful grin tickled the edges of his mouth, having sprouted finally a fair amount of facial hair, and he dropped his sparring sword to the ground. "And if I'm correct... what about it has you so worried?" He smirked and eyed the flush in her cheeks, as if her friends had said something she wouldn't want him to hear, or anyone to hear for that matter, and he could only stand there amused with the notion. "I have heard the gossip of girls is quite deadly," he smirked and flashed her yet another wink, his friends still sparring behind them. "Should I be worried that some females will try and have my backside?" He chuckled and shook his head.

It was only then that his closest comrade, Edward, having just won against his other friends, came walking up behind John and smacked him hard on the shoulder. "Oh get on with it already!" The boy remarked, smiling wide and obnoxiously as he gave John a playful shove towards his betrothed. "Get on with it so we can get on with our match!" John, though still smirking, turned around to face his friend and gave him a hard shove back, his jaw tight and warning that it was best for Edward to leave he and his betrothed alone. "You go on, then!" He called, almost shooing his friend away before turning back to Anne and smiling crookedly. "He's only jealous," he assured her, unsure whether he should take her hand or comfort her some other way. "Jealous that he does not have a betrothed as pretty as you," he flashed her another wink, "or a betrothed at all for that matter. I think I am the luckiest out of all my friends!"
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Anne Shilston
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Anne gave her handsome betrothed a knowing soft smile. She knew this young man of hers was right. She probably should find some new friends, but she was lucky to have the ones she already had. She guessed that the only reason why they were friends with her in the first place was because of her brother. He was so handsome to them and in very good favour of Prince Henry, so surely they were hoping for a match? They didn’t count on the fact that Charles had little time for her, his royal friend took much of her time and since that she had been found a match so soon in her life, he didn’t have to worry about who his sister should marry. Even if John Shilston had not been her betrothed, she would be keen to spend as much time with him as a young lady as she was allowed. She wondered though if she wouldn’t have been so shy in his presence if that were the case. Most likely yes, because it was the mere fact that this handsome young man was hers that made her blush so and her ‘friends’ fed on this and made it worse.

The fact that John was so charming and kind to her probably helped too, watching him pick up her handkerchief with his wooden sword made her heart flutter. He wasn’t like other men who courted their betrotheds but something such as that gave her the same feeling as any rose would. She gladly accepted the cloth back and shook the dirt off it and patted it down, before stepping close to her betrothed and lightly dabbed at his brow, because isn’t that something a wife did? She chewed on her bottom lip lightly and quickly withdrew her hand away awkwardly, not knowing what her betrothed or his friends would think of such a thing. And then of course he had to emphasise and imply what her friends had been saying about him. She glanced down and blushed, before she mumbled softly. “Because I do want to kiss you.”

She stepped back though but when she finally glanced up, she couldn’t look at him, her eyes instead rested upon his friends sparring, as if she were willing them to leave so this would be less embarrassing for herself. She smiled softly at John’s words as he had no intention to let gossiping girls get the better of him, but then her smile was lost and her breath caught in her throat as one of John’s friends approached them. She could only stare and edged backwards as if afraid the two young men would start brawling in front of her, but that crooked smile and the wink her way made her smile again and she took a step towards him as if she suddenly realised she couldn’t stand not being near him. Shyly she asked. “Do you really? Do you really think I’m pretty?” Her heart was pounding so hard now she thought it might leap out of her chest. She was blushing no more now, but she still had a flush about her as she thought about letting him pull her against his sweaty torso so that he could kiss her enough to make her knees weak.
[align=center]PLOT: :BIO: :TRACKER

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John Shilston
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Kiss him? John chuckled at the idea and shook his head; were all girls the same? He chuckled again and gave his sparring sword a playful turn in the air, figuring that perhaps indeed, all silly, pretty girls like Anne were all the same. All wanted their hands held, all wanted to be kissed by their knights in shining armor and to be whisked away into their castle every night after marriage. John did not exactly share these ideals, but if it meant he was whisking her to the bed, then so be it... if it meant kissing her would lead to other, more primitive affections, then he would gladly take her lips and caress them with his own. John had always wondered if there was purpose behind these silly, whimsical fantasies girls always had. "Is that so?" He finally replied, smirking as his friends finally seemed to forget him and resume their game. "Well," he thought to himself, eying his betrothed. "You would not be the first!"

And what was it about compliments to girls? Were they so insecure they needed a mere word of praise so they could step out into the open? No doubt Anne had shown a good amount of both foolishness and bravery by diving in for a piece of cloth in the midst of their sparring, but the way she seemed to pique at the way he called her pretty. Was it so easy to please them? John would have to remember these sorts of things, knowing marriage to this girl couldn't be entirely far off... and he would need to know how to keep her happy, wouldn't he? Smiling as if fascinated by her shorter years, the young boy dropped his wooden sword into the dirt and closed the distance between he and his betrothed, taking her face into his hands and capturing her soft mouth with the drier plane of his. His eyes closed and he kissed her warmly, keeping his tongue fastened behind his teeth and keeping their mouths closed as his lips puckered and pressed against hers. Very slowly he pulled away and opened his eyes, staring at her for a moment before withdrawing his hands from her cheeks and smiling as if triumphant. Bending down to retrieve his sparring sword, the sun glistened just barely off the sweat on his back before he rose back up and shadowed her from its glare.

"There," he smirked, flashing a wink at her. "I am sure your friends are in hiding somewhere nearby..." he trailed off and glanced around them, "but I am sure they saw that." Chuckling, he turned his head over his shoulder and acknowledged his comrades still sparring behind them, having hardly paused as John had stepped in to kiss his betrothed. "Will they chide you for it, now that you have actually done what they said?" He smiled, "or will they be jealous?" He paused and took a breath, as if suddenly pondering. "If it is the latter... I will gladly turn them a shade of green," green for envy, of course.
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Anne Shilston
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Anne wished she hadn’t just admitted that. She was embarrassed enough already, why did she have to say something like that? But it was true wasn’t it? Of course it was, who wouldn’t want to be kissed by such a handsome young man, a man who was soon to be her husband. Just the thought gave her butterflies. If a mere thought could give her butterflies then you can guess what happened when he dropped his wooden sword and stepped towards her to take her face in his hands and kiss her.

Her heart fluttered and she felt weightless as if the only thing that was keeping her rooted to the ground was his hands holding her. Yet even still, she thought she could just float on away. She barely even remembered where she was once the kiss ended (too soon for her liking) and he withdrew from her. She could only just stare back at him, watching as he bent down to pick up his sword. Though his sword was wooden, the sight of the sun glistening off his sweaty back made her think of him as some great warrior and she couldn’t help but imagine the battles he might win when he is a grown man. Just the thought and the sight of him aroused her a little and she had to blink once, twice before she realised he was talking to her.

She smiled shyly, trying desperately not to fiddle but her fingers played with the bow on her dress or the ruffles on her skirts. Forcing her fingers to stop, she smoothed out her skirts and glanced off to the side to where her friends had disappeared to before returning her gaze upon her betrothed. Somehow, miraculously she managed a tiny smirk. “Jealous I should think, and I won’t mind making them so either.” Her tiny smirk grew a little, but she lost it and her eyes wandered over to his friends. “I’m sorry I interrupted you, I didn’t mean to.” Once her gaze returned upon John she asked. “Should I leave you be?” She didn’t want to of course, but she was trying to be a good wife…or at least a good future one. What she really wanted though was for him to take her behind some bushes and kiss her with tongue and let him touch her like they say men usually do, or had she been reading too many stories?
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Isabel Leigh
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Virtue alone is invincible.
This thread has been archived either due to forwarding of board timeline or because of a month of inactivity. If you would like to continue, please PM an Admin!
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