Welcome Guest [Log In] [Register]
Welcome to For King and Court. We hope you enjoy your visit.


You're currently viewing our forum as a guest. This means you are limited to certain areas of the board and there are some features you can't use. If you join our community, you'll be able to access member-only sections, and use many member-only features such as customizing your profile, sending personal messages, and voting in polls. Registration is simple, fast, and completely free.


Join our community!


If you're already a member please log in to your account to access all of our features:

Username:   Password:
Add Reply
Let me be your light in the darkness; Arthur Chamerlyn
Topic Started: Dec 27 2011, 03:24 AM (557 Views)
Richard FitzJames
Member Avatar
Bishop of London
Early January 1513

“In nomine Patris et Filii et Spiritus Sancti, Amen” whispered Richard as he made the cross-sign. He straightened himself slowly and graciously and took one last glance upon Jesus Christ who hung upon the cross. He descended the few steps that raised the altar above the floor of the chapel, it was peaceful and quiet within the Chapel Royal this winter day. A few days a ago a new year had come, hopefully it would bring with it great gifts from heaven, though Richard as he sat down on a bench next to a grand pillar.
Richard had been visiting court, which he tried to do regularly to keep up his reputation and meet the few friends and acquaintances he had made at court. Richard’s position was a frustrating one, the King seemed to care little about him even though he was the bishop of London. He had no position at court that made him stay there more permanently. He was of course welcome to stay but after all he was a bishop with responsibilities, and besides without a position what would he do at court? He did not gamble, dance or sing, nor did he run around whoring as many did. So this put him in a kind of “between the chairs” position. What he needed was a position at court, but that was much easier said than done, as the King did barely notice him. Besides he had not enough powerful friends that could help him.

With decisiveness Richard decided to push his ambitious thoughts aside, it was blasphemes to think them in such a holy place as this he thought and smiled ironically to himself. There he sat enjoying the peace, only a few had disturbed him, but they had left almost as quickly as they had entered the chapel. Well he was not really surprised since he knew quite well how the court was, and it was not a very pious place to say the least. There were exceptions of course, Richard thought of Sir Thomas More first and foremost, who was probably more god-fearing than himself, though Richard and smiled once again.
Soon he would have to return to his so called palace, that of Fullham Palace. It was in very few aspects a palace as the name inclined. But Richard was slowly having it repaired, he had now collected enough money to mend the roof that leaked here and there. Than only the façade was left to be coiffed, and then the palace would look perfectly respectable, at least exteriorly. Inside it looked more like a worn-down medieval fortress, but in time that would also change thought Richard hopefully.
As he was just about to leave the bench and set his steps towards the courtyard where his horse waited, he heard steps, and so he decided to stay a little longer, only to see who it was entering the holy space.
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Arthur Chamerlyn
Unregistered

It had been but a few days since last coming here, since last finding himself on his knees before a priest reduced only to his sobs and his nervous whispers to a dead wife. It had been both an equally painful and pleasurable experience, his heart not exactly lighter but it certainly wasn't heavier, either, and he found himself almost looking forward to the next time he was able to "talk" to her. It was an odd sort of grieving process, as if clinging on to the very last things he had of her, but he could feel it helping. Anne had always liked to be spoken to, even about the most inane of the latest tax collection turnouts, and Arthur wondered if in the afterlife... mortal affairs would still be a comforting memory. If she was watching him continue what this life was without her, waiting for him to acknowledge her even after death... to turn his head towards the clouds and almost look for her. His heart lurched at the idea, wanting so badly to believe that Anne was still with him in every step, moment and thought, but he knew she had been reduced to only memory. Here in the Chapel, he sought to breathe life to whatever memories had stagnated. Arthur had grown tired of feeling grief, of remorse, and he could feel his body, also, beginning to grow restless. Perhaps it did not have to be so sad, after all.

His footsteps were slow but purposeful as he advanced from the Chapel doors and towards the familiar altar that loomed ahead. The candles had been replaced but to Arthur, it seemed as if not a moment in time had touched this place. Everything was where it had been, the yellow luminance from the candle and torchlight just as warming, and the gray light pouring in from the stained glass windows had seemingly not changed a bit. Sucking in a deep breath through his nostrils, Arthur almost felt as if he walked out now, everything would be back to the way it was... Anne would probably be looking for him, would probably lift an eyebrow after hearing he was in the Chapel, but nevertheless she would be there. Just as everything in this place had not changed, it seemed maybe his life really hadn't, either. Alas, he could not be so foolish, so delusional, and as he caught the eye of a bishop perched thoughtfully on a cushioned fixture, the marquess indeed could not be so brainless. He paused and bowed gracefully to the bishop, his saddened but hopeful blue eyes falling to the floor if only for a moment. He rose back into a stance, a faint memory of a smile playing about his lips. "My Lord Bishop," he spoke kindly, knowing by the man's robes that he was a man of clergy. And should he trust the word of fellow informants of the king, Arthur wondered if this was the newly-come-to-court Bishop of London.

"If I may, Your Grace?" He asked, motioning to the empty space beside the bishop. Smiling ever so, the marquess lowered himself slowly and smoothly into the cushion, the wood of the furniture creaking with its new weight. "I recently begun revisiting this place... I had nearly forgotten the relief it brings." Arthur's eyes suddenly seemed deeper and forlorn, slowly turning his head to look at the older man beside him.
Quote Post Goto Top
 
Richard FitzJames
Member Avatar
Bishop of London
Richard sat still, only looking upon the coloured glass in the windows of the chapel. One such window portrayed the Blessed Virgin Mary holding the baby Jesus Christ in her arms. It was a beautiful image to behold, and somehow it enhanced the atmosphere within the chapel, you really felt you were in God’s temple on earth. The footsteps grew more distinguished, he could now hear them very clearly, they seemed confident, yet careful, almost as if someone were walking on water and was afraid to fall into the waves. Soon a figure emerged to the left of him and very gently he turned his head towards that direction. His eyes fell upon a young man, dressed finely, but yet he seemed a bit misplaced, as if he did not know how to behave within the holy space he now had entered. Upon looking him in the eyes and studying his face, Richard soon remembered whom he was in the presence of, the young man was no one other but the Marquess of Powis. Richard kept well-informed about everything going on at court, and the people dwelling within it, since he could not be there very often, only a week ago had Richard observed the man and asked his source within the court to identify him, so naturally he remembered the young man rather well.

The Marquess stopped and bowed to him, which caught Richard quite with surprise, he had not expected the young man to be so gracious. Yet Richard himself rose from the bench and bowed as well “My Lord Marquess” he said in response, and as the younger man straightened Richard took his seat once more. It was true he wore the purplish robe of a bishop and so it was not hard to recognise him as such, but he felt the man did not only guess, there were more knowledge behind it all.
“Oh yes, yes of course My Lord” Richard hurried to say gesturing towards the empty space next to him, still surprised that such a distinguished member of the nobility would approach him in such a way, but he was not at all discontent.
At the young man’s statement he smiled vaguely, not in a mocking way, but more a friendly and almost welcoming way. “I am glad to hear of your return My Lord” he said in a friendly tone, almost encouraging “You speak truth, within this holy temple calmness and forgiveness will always be offered. I often think with great admiration of this place, for within these walls everyone find their peace, from His majesty the King to the simplest of kitchen maids. How it unites us all, a truly grand thought, a thought hard to grasp” he spoke softly and looked upon the beautiful coloured glass once more and then finally back to the young man once more. You did not need to be a priest to see that the young man had a troubled mind, and Richard wondered whether or not he should ask the Marquess what troubled him. But he held his tongue, it was better to let the young man speak him mind in his own pace, rather than Richard hurrying him on.
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Arthur Chamerlyn
Unregistered

There was something about members of the clergy that eased Arthur. Though they deserved even more respect than members of nobility, it was the fact that a true man of God would not turn away another no matter if they were dressed in the finest of silks and velvets or in torn, dirty beggar cloths. God was one language, and the marquess perhaps had a foolish expectation for all clergy to know and uphold that. One of the few reasons why it was so easy for Arthur to approach a bishop, a priest, a cardinal, even the archbishop, if he ever had the chance... he saw these men as closest to a being Arthur found himself distancing away from. He saw these men able to show him a way that he would not able to do for himself... not even if he turned and prayed to himself. No, here in this Chapel, in any place of the Almighty, Arthur admitted he needed guidance. And for once, he was not afraid to search for it. Sitting here beside the bishop, the bench quietly creaking beneath any shifts of weight or movement, the marquess would have been content simply to breathe.

But of course, the thoughts in his mind felt otherwise. "Perhaps a return long overdue," he sighed, but managed a small smile despite the remorse. "But I am here, at last." A faint glimmer of hope remained in his eyes and he sucked in a long, quiet breath, willing his muscles and his nerves to calm themselves. The bishop's words rang only golden truth in the marquess's ears, helping along the process of relaxation and contentment, and he found himself enjoying the slow, seemingly calculated syllables of the older man beside him. The smile that had been small and faint now grew into better notice, creating a brighter light for his thoughtfully lined face. "It is very hard to grasp," he began softly, the yellow luminance from all the candles and torches lighting up his expression and dark blue eyes. "When the mortal realms are congregations of difference. Languages, social propaganda, even families are different wherever you go. But here, in any church, it truly feels we are all the same when on our knees praying to Him." Anne would have been astonished, seeing her husband here in the Chapel, rediscovering the spirituality that had seemed to leave him... well, Arthur hadn't even known when he'd turned his focuses elsewhere. Perhaps he was paying now for ignoring it so easily.

"My wife.." he began, a breath escaping him. "She would love to see me here. Do you suppose she can, even though she has left me?" He paused, his words pained but misguided. "Has left this world, rather?" If anything, Anne had met the Almighty Himself. She would have been warmly embraced by him, fondly and affectionately, so glad to finally have an angel like her in his Heavens. Remorse of mortals was only temporary... a spirit like Anne's was forever. Arthur was still trying to battle cursing out his God for being so selfish, for taking her so greedily. Could He not see she was needed here? "She was always discovering new ways to get closer to Him," he pushed the memory of her detainment in the Tower for apparent heresy, but an English translation of the Bible, in Arthur's eyes, (though he would never say,) brought the unknowing further into... well, the knowing. He had openly condemned her copy of Tyndale's Bible, but within him, Arthur knew it was only Anne's ways to find and understand more about her God, her precious Holy Lord that the marquess truly needed to rediscover for himself. Was this all apart of His plan? To take her, so that he was brought closer to Him? Arthur sighed; he truly hated cryptic thoughts. "I assumed I should begin to start finding ways as well, now that she is no longer here to show me.."
Quote Post Goto Top
 
Richard FitzJames
Member Avatar
Bishop of London
“Well My Lord Marquess that is the grandness of it all, even though you might wander the wrong path, willingly or unwillingly, you can always return to the right one. Everyone will have a lack of faith sometime, in their own way of course, some choose to neglect their spiritual welfare, while others question the word of God, or rather the ways in which He wants us to do his will. I myself have sometimes wondered, questioned what His will is, I have sometimes wondered if His ways are the right ones… and yet I always find myself reconciling with Him, and so can every man or woman do, no matter their deeds” Richard reasoned with calm voice, sitting back, leaning towards the hard wooden backrest, griping the golden cross that hung from around his neck. It was true what he said, most of the time the cross was light to carry, it was a privilege, but at some points it felt as if though it was made of lead, the weight of responsibility was sometimes heavy.
Richard looked to the side into the dark blue oceans of the Marquess, where the light of the candles was reflected. He gave the younger man an encouraging smile and nodded slowly as he spoke, it seemed to exists a spiritual depth even in those one would least expect, not that he Marquess was one such person, but still it was a surprise to Richard, a joyful one of that.
“Indeed it is so as you say My Lord, an uniting point. It is what we need, in this world of conflict and disunion. A light in the darkness if one wills it…” he said and let the sentence be unfinished, the last word echoing thought out the chapel, softly, like an apple blossom falling to the ground.

And so it came, the root of his trouble, the thought that made his eyes look so troubled and sad. He spoke hesitantly, correcting himself. It became very clear to Richard why now the young man had returned to the Holy space, why he had re-joined the flock.
“Oh yes my son… I can imagine her among the happy souls that has joined our Father on the heavenly fields, she sits there watching you, like a guardian angel” he said almost thinking himself childish, but he felt so filled by a presence, he felt as if God had entered the Holy room in which they dwelled, and he spoke without any hesitation almost as if the words he spoke were not his own.
“I…I cannot say how I know, but I feel, I feel in the root of my heart that she has joined her Maker, and that she is with you, always” he said, still convinced, he was moved, he had been filled, his heart had felt a truth, a divine truth and he spoke it like water flowing in a stream, he could not stop it, nor could he explain where the water came from, other than from the skies. It was strange, he had not at all expected to be so… moved, so engaged. As he had calmed down somewhat he spoke once more.
“My Lord, God is with you, always, he is the all-knowing and all-seeing, but I know that it is hard to find him, to feel him and that one sometimes needs help in finding him…” Richard said quietly, calmly, softly and then looked carefully to the younger man next to him.
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Arthur Chamerlyn
Unregistered

Of course, there had been countless of times where Arthur, both as a man and as a mere boy, had cursed and questioned God's will... and the ways in which He had exercised it. But sitting here beside the comforting bishop, the marquess could honestly admit that every single one of those times could be seen clearly as a learning experience, now that he had the clarity and time to look back on them. That perhaps God's will was only a method of teaching His precious subjects what they truly needed to learn... and without even knowing it, they were bestowed upon the knowledge in what could be the harshest and painful of ways. So painful and harsh, it often led to His subjects turning away from Him, sometimes temporarily and sometimes for their entire mortal existence. But something told Arthur that the Almighty would be there with arms open upon the moment of death or otherworldly judgment, ready to embrace any true and honest soul, even if it had not lived out the greatest or most remarkable of mortal purposes.

This, Arthur felt, was entirely refreshing. Already he could feel the forgiveness warm his slow veins, surge a new hope and light that he thought had been washed out with the loss of his wife. God was still here, and He still loved Arthur no matter the course he took, as long as he came back to Him in the end. And, looking at the older man beside him, it was easy to feel a sort of deep appreciation for the bishop, for the marquess found himself wanting to sit there the rest of the day to listen to this man, to his words that could be said so easily by any other. But yet, they seemed to be more personal than Arthur could have ever asked for, and the small smile on his face grew ever so slightly with every word the bishop spoke. Soon enough, the marquess's eyes were shiny with a new layer of salt water that was quickly blinked and absorbed away by his long, dark eyelashes. Still, his cheeks had flushed and his gaze had reddened; it was easy to see the once solid marquess was crumbling with both loss and the joy of hope and the restoration of happy memories. That the concept of Anne, sitting there beautifully in Heaven's fields, her eyes on her beloved husband... it hurt so good, and it nearly overwhelmed him. This bishop seemed to know just exactly what Arthur needed to hear.

"...I feel in the root of my heart that she has joined her Maker." The marquess no longer had much of a grip on his resolve, and finally a single tear or two left a salty ribbon down his cheeks and one muffled sob rocked past his throat. He wanted so badly to clutch a hand to his chest, as if to keep it from caving in on itself, but instead he reached out for the bishop and grasped the older man's softer, warmer fingers, squeezing them as a lost boy would its savior. He choked out a quiet sob once more and sighed heavily, willing the lump in his throat back down into his stomach and pushing the stutter in his lungs until his breath was smooth and steadied. "Indeed, it is so very hard for me.." he admitted, almost shamefully as he lowered his head and blinked away yet another layer of threatening tears. "Even harder when He takes my wife, the mother of my child... How is that a lesson?" Though Arthur found himself growing closer and closer to reacquaintance with his Maker, he still had questions to ask, things to say, doubts to silence. Why he thought this robed bishop would be his solace, he was not sure... but he felt not a shred of reluctance as he turned ever so slightly on the bench to face him. "Let me guess," he began, suddenly plain, "it is not a lesson. It is a test." Of course, tests were lessons in their own way... but it was a lesson for God, a lesson to teach him who truly believed in Him and those who doubted him at every turn. Gently releasing the bishop's hand, Arthur ran his own over the length of his tired face and sighed inwardly.

"I have always been afraid of failing any test..." but surely this was the only one that mattered? Sighing again, he swallowed hard and hung his head, a wave of sadness enveloping him yet again. "I feel in so many ways that I failed my wife, my beloved wife. I could not bear to fail Him, either." Another sob stuttered his words and he shook his head, wanting so badly to fall to his knees and merely rest his tired head in the bishop's lap... receive prayer, a blessing, even, give confession... he wanted to humble himself, to take off the burdens of his political life and the mangled one of his personal, and perhaps shed every possible tear his body had right here in the presence of the bishop. Or not. Either way, Arthur knew God would hear him.
Quote Post Goto Top
 
Isabel Leigh
Member Avatar
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!
[align=center]Mistress Leigh

Isabel is in 8 threads and can has more!
App | Plot[/align]
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
DealsFor.me - The best sales, coupons, and discounts for you
« Previous Topic · Winter 1512/1513 · Next Topic »
Add Reply