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Post by blessie on Mar 21, 2009 14:12:44 GMT 1
Sometimes things don't happen as you anticipated, sometimes people just fall away into nothingness; lives become faded papers in the history books and loves become broken trinkets in your palm. Nothing stays the same, nothing. Sometimes, Blessie mused things don’t happen in the order they were supposed to; people break the rues or bend them to their will leaving those who still cling to idealistic prejudices to flounder in their own destitution. Brotherhoods are forged not through the gold within a purse yet through years of blood and sweat worked into the earth that fell away against fallen footsteps. Monarchies change and fade away as the ever present threat of war loomed ominously on the horizon.
Blessie moved silently through the cobbled streets of Nottingham town, bags stowed within the castles as she finally took in the place she had been so coerced into visiting. She had to admit, she was partially glad of the change; it afforded her the opportunity to finally breath free, to escape to a place where nobody knew her nor her fragmented ego that had been so crushed by her Grace. Prince John at least had been lenient, she had still her head at least, something the majority of those who had dared her brazen actions, lacked.
Deep sapphire skirts trailed absently on the ground as night fell in and streams of ivory light flitted over her lithe frame, slight bones and alabaster skin highlighted by the oceans of silk ridden moonlight. She wasn’t sure why she enjoyed the darkness against the periwinkle blue of the daylight yet perhaps it reminded her of those few short months stayed in Hugh’s arms against the sheath of midnight darkness, or the hours spent within the arms of a young courtier with only the midnight opalescence to illuminate their fair bodies.
Her pale eyes narrowed as she absently craned her neck to see the faint outline of the castle loom precariously within the distance as her breath quickened in her chest. Each street looked the same and the hours aimlessly ambling down the corridors of darkness had only heightened her panic as it slowly dawned on her she had no clue of where she had been nor where she was now. A choke wormed its way through her fair lips as she snapped her head around to scan the desolate streets behind her.
There was a faint sound smarting her mind as something tentatively moved behind her and he eyes widened, breath coming in sporadic gasps. ’Excusez-moi?’ Her voice wavered lightly as she coughed and straightened her back, summoning the courage that lay absently against her chest. ‘Hello?’ A light French lilt tainted her voice as her fingers flexed absently into an anxious fist beside her.
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Post by rh on Mar 21, 2009 17:09:49 GMT 1
Young Guinevere roamed the grounds freely as the tips of her long dress fraulicked behind her as she walked. Her hair danced with the breeze around her. It was good to be out of the castle and to breathe in the good air around her. It was good to be free from her father's taunts, ordering to get married to a complete stranger, how could he?
She glanced at a shadow nearby. A nearby person. The shadow was moving at least. She walked over quite elegantly and noticed that the person was a lady, a lady Guinevere knew nothing about. She was not familiar at all. "Er, hello." Guin smiled as she approached her and stood there at a complete stop. "I daresay, I love your fashion senses." She glanced at what the mysterious lady was wearing.
Her arms were by her sides as she kept her eyes still on the blond hair. She didn't really enjoy the company of blondes, but really, who cared? She awaited for a single answer.
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Post by blessie on Mar 21, 2009 17:32:22 GMT 1
Blessie poignantly raised her eyebrows as a young woman approached, beautiful and with all the refinement of a Queen. She was fair, even lit by the sheath of ivory moonlight one could see the smarting of alabaster flesh that pooled over her bones. She let a calmed breath escape her pale lips, inclining her head as the girl bid her hello. The woman, young as she was, didn’t look familiar and yet she had only journeyed to this desolate city not two nights ago under the cloak of darkness. A light smile quirked coyly onto her lips as she complimented her style and she absently felt her eyes roam over the sapphire silk wrapped cruelly over her lithe frame.
It was in the French style, as her birth right deemed appropriate. A daughter, nay a child of any sex, belonging to the Clairvauè family was to dress as if they lived every day within their home citadel. French dress and language was a given and yet she was always quietly glad, the gowns that adorned the French ladies were far more becoming that those worn by the English girls she had encountered. Even during her time with her Grace, the Countess Isabel her own style had been fabled above her mistress’. Bless dropped her eyes back to the girl as she scanned her sculpted features with scrutiny.
She was lithe and yet an utter goddess with long brunette hair and mesmerising bow lips. She was a noble, a lady and yet she seemed younger by a far few years than herself in any case. She inclined her hand; breath calming as streams of topaz light filtered around the pair as sporadically strewn torches waned and died into oceans of black ash. ‘Elizabeth Du Clairvauè, although most address me as Blessie. I came here not two days ago from London, I have few acquaintances in the city so I’m glad to meet you.’
Her words were oddly phrased and cloaked in a heavy accent that still hadn’t waned in her five years upon this island. She could speak English fluently yet her native French more often than not rolled from her tongue during an English speaking conversation, not that many nobles in London minded. After all, what Norman or other noble who strived for respect likewise didn’t speak French? The tentative mention of her family should also strike some recognition within the girl and give her a basis for why she spoke with such a lilt.
’Excuse me Madam, I do not know your name.’ Her voice was light and playful as she poignantly rasied her eyebrows and smirked.
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Post by rh on Mar 22, 2009 15:21:22 GMT 1
Her greenish honey eyes delicately scanned the woman when she heard her name. Yes, she did hear of such name. Her father told her about them. She then nodded and came to a halt and said calmy. "Fairly glad to meet you too, dear foreigner." A warming smile inched itself across her fair, pale, rosie cheeked face.
She glanced around and then felt her eyes glance at the woman once more. She was very beautiful and Guinevere admired her eyes. It wasn't easy to find a person like her here in Nottingham. All woman were fat, chubby and had dark eyes. Guinevere never liked them and all those woman thought of were being proper and being a lady. They taught Guin many things when her mother passed away a few years ago. She simply replied with a -"Guinevere, my Heiress. Guinevere Wineberg but yet some people address me as Guinny or Guin. Your choice." Spoke her calm, soothing voice.
She sighed calmingly. "And nay, my heiress," She addressed her with full manners. "I beg of you to not ask why I am standing here at this hour. This hour means a lot to me and I would like to spend it quite willingly." She gave her a proper pleading look.
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Post by blessie on Mar 22, 2009 16:36:53 GMT 1
‘It makes me most glad to meet you Guin, we shall be firm friends I feel it in my blood.’
A light smile furled onto her face as she studied the girl once more, beauty tainting her even in the ominous dark of the hour. She was pale with beautiful wide emerald eyes with full bow lips and a slight frame that stood willowy yet regal against the sheath of midnight. She inclined her head as the girls voice rang openly through the darkening alleyway and her brow furrowed in response. Despite her fluency in the language, English never ceased to confuse her.
‘I shan’t ask my lady. I’ll leave you in peace in due course I promise but...but I’m only recently arrived, could you please show me the way back to the castle? I don’t know where I’m going and I dislike so much being alone.’ She smiled warily and lightly turned her face toward the castle, eyes scanning the darkness.
Shadows danced freely against the oceans of topaz light thrown from sporadically around the courtyard. Nobody stirred, nothing moved save the rise of her own chest and the absent thrum of her heart against her ribs. Her breathing quickened as she wound pale arms around her lithe waist, panic rising in her body at the thought of the girl refusing her request. Blessie couldn’t rightly wonder aimlessly around the town until dawn, her ladies would be looking for her and even then Nottingham was fabled for treacherous outlaws and those that dwelled in the shadows, preying on innocent women that so resembled herself.
She shook her head at the thought, coughing lightly as her eyes pleadingly raised to the woman before her as her fingers flirted with the lace upon her gown. ‘Please...I can’t walk around much longer, I don’t know anybody nor where I’m going.’ She smiled tentatively and mentally cursed herself for just how feeble she was appearing, it was utterly pathetic and she bit her lip. It was so unlike her and yet as darkness encased her form she found herself glad for her company.
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Post by rh on Mar 22, 2009 17:28:25 GMT 1
Guinevere just blessidly smiled. "I'm fairly glad to be at your service, my dear heiress." She politely bowed her head and then looked up at her with sparkling emerald eyes. She was beginning to like this woman very much. "I shall do anything to please your commands, and not to mention, quite mannerfully." She nodded and kept her bright, teeth-showing smile on.
"Just place your hand on top of mines and we shall flee." With no more words to come out of her mouth, she held Blessie's hand gently and placed it ontop of her own. "I shall be pleased to recruit you back to the castle, like a willingly young pleasant woman, my heiress."
She began to make her way towards the castle elegantly. "But do mind your steps, it is a little rocky at this path."
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Post by blessie on Mar 22, 2009 18:01:31 GMT 1
Blessie inclined her head once more to the virtuous young woman before her, breath settling in her chest as she extended her hand to rest atop of the girls own. She smiled wistfully breaking a breath as she looked upon the rows of symmetrical houses lined so magnificently before her in rows upon rows. She cautiously glanced sideways toward the young woman beside her, a coy smile still on her face as they absently moved forward up a narrowing path toward the castle looming ominously in the distance.
‘Tell me Guin, to whose family do you belong? I regret I have not heard your families name before? I spent several years in his Majesty’s court in London perhaps I maybe saw one of your relatives up there?’ She smiled and raised her eyebrows poignantly to the girl before she glanced back toward the stone path before them.
She didn’t know what to say to the women, she was hardly proficient in charming her in the dark if night when she was so tired; tomorrow she would no doubt make a far better impression. She was so used to being so utterly independent, so strong and full of fire that this was so utterly humiliating and she felt a crimson blush flare on her ivory flesh. She wished she could readily crawl down into her pallet and never face the world again. She should never have come out alone, it was utterly shameful.
‘What do you ladies do around here then Guin? Court is so dull I fear I shall go readily mad.’
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Post by rh on Mar 23, 2009 5:58:21 GMT 1
As they walked she felt a slight breeze hit her body. It was getting fairly chilly outside that evening. She couldn't help but answer her tempting question - "Wineberg." She repeated more clearly than the last time she spoke of her name. "Bertha Wineberg. She's my deceased mother. She died a long time ago. Bernard Wineberg, father and a landlord. Non the less, I have no siblings of my kind." She spoke in a courageous, willing tone of voice.
As she walked into the castle elegantly with Blessie by her side. "Yes well, I don't do much around here. All we do are the deeds ordered by the men." She whispered not wanting anybody to hear her speak such words.
"Here we go, missus." She let go of Blessie's hand. "You look fairly tired, I think you desire deep rest." She smiled. "I guess I shall seek you around."
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Post by blessie on Mar 23, 2009 15:50:29 GMT 1
‘Yes well, I don't do much around here. All we do are the deeds ordered by the men.’
Blessie cocked an amused eyebrow as the chilled wind snatched the girl’s words into the midnight sheath as they slowly ambled toward the path leading up toward the castle. This girl was pleasant company and yet she furrowed her brow, letting out a bemused, melodic chuckle at her words that echoed uncomfortably within her head. Blessie wasn’t one for obeying a man save it be her father, husband or sibling; even her monarch rarely commanded the respect that was expected.
‘You sound as if you do not know of true court life. In Paris it is beautiful with balls and feasts and the women do as they please. English courts are so different it is stifling believe me Guin, I shall take you to the Palais du Louvre in Paris, it is the most splendour filled citadel, my cousin does so enjoy it.’ She smiled, a brilliant quirk of the lips that shone in the sheath of darkness. She missed France, it had been years; nearly five summers since she had been enveloped by the sheer magnificence and it was so horrendous to be parted from it all.
Not only was she barred from her family whom still reside within both London and Paris but being stripped of male company that she so fervently longs for. During her years within the royal court at Whitehall, London Blessie flitted from bed to bed and yet her craving was never duly satisfied and so for the last year she has bid herself free from any pleasure with regard to a man, after all abstinence and virtue is so favoured and with being a widow for the past almost five years, it is near time to claim another husband and honourable women are so fervently favoured over harlots.
‘Here we go, missus. You look fairly tired; I think you desire deep rest. I guess I shall seek you around.’
Blessie smiled generously as the girl released her hand, slowly guiding her toward the worn cobbled streets leading through to the main gates standing proudly before their moon shrouded bodies. Her grin broadened as she inhaled deeply, allowing pails of clean, crisp midnight air to pool and flood her chest as she turned to face her company. Tendrils of loosely clipped blonde hair fell before her pale eyes as she carefully swotted them away. Oceans of sapphire silk plumed around her lithe frame as she carefully dropped into a low curtsy, head bowing to the young noble.
As she rose, her voice carried effortlessly with regal aptitude around the courtyard leading into the castle. ‘My dear it has been my pleasure and you should seek me out, or I you in the least.’
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