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rainbowfic2016-02-23 10:18 pm
bookblather) wrote in rainbowfic2016-02-23 10:18 pm
First Light 11, Color Party 1: A Favor
Author: Kat
Title: A Favor
Story: Shine Like It Does -- Tudors AU
Colors: First light 11 (Clemency), color party 1 (Filemot)
Supplies and Materials: Eraser (Tudors AU), glue (You might try to do your best to avoid tackling a difficult family issue today, but it's likely better for everyone if you face an existing conflict head on.), novelty beads ("Heaven goes by favor. If it went by merit, you would stay out and your dog would go in." -- Mark Twain)
Word Count: 849
Rating: PG
Summary: Miranda asks a favor.
Warnings: none.
Notes: Immediately precedes this. Also, Miranda's first husband is a fictional son of this guy's son.
Eleven days after Anne Boleyn's execution, England had a new queen.
Miranda could not say she was surprised. Nor was she terribly surprised when Queen Jane asked her to serve among her ladies. She accepted, of course. She was still a Howard man's wife, even if she'd not seen him since before his cousin's execution and doubted that she'd ever see him again. She could be safe among the queen's ladies.
Safe, and anonymous; she dared not put herself forward in any way. She served the queen and kept her eyes down, and did not even attend her husband's execution. Not that she cared much for him, but it was a shame that a man should die only because his family fell from favor. Well, no matter. He was dead, and she was left with an object lesson in what happened when ambition overreached.
But time marched on and the tumult of the court began to settle somewhat. Queen Jane calmed her husband considerably by her quiet, docile, soothing presence. The Lady Mary submitted to her father's authority at last, and with her the faction supporting her. Miranda began to dare hope that she could stand out again.
And then the rumors.
Lady Mary would be returning to court. Of course she would. Whether she would stay... but that was another matter and not Miranda's concern. Not exactly.
She waited until that August to approach the queen. Her husband had been dead for two months, the Lady Mary had been pacified for one. Miranda's own family had not come to court in months, not since the death of the Princess Dowager (as she thought of Catherine of Aragon, as she had to think of her, no matter how betrayed her mother sounded or how wounded Charlotte looked), and so it seemed-- not safe, perhaps, but less risky.
"Majesty," she said, hesitant, one night as they all sewed together in the candlelight.
"Lady Lisle," the queen replied, placid.
"I wonder if I might make a request of you," Miranda said. She heard the other ladies shift, heard a few stifled murmurs, and dared not lift her eyes from her needlework.
"As you like," the queen said, still placid.
Miranda wondered briefly if Jane Seymour had ever sounded emotional in her life, then dismissed the thought as unproductive. "It is said that the Lady Mary will return to court, to be reconciled with her father," she said. It was a question, though not worded as one, and though she received no answer, she continued anyway. "My sister is a great friend of Lady Mary's. She served her when they were both children. I-- I know that if the Lady Mary is to have her own household again, my sister would be glad to be a part of it."
And that, that was all she dared say. To expand further on Charlotte's love for the lady would invite questions as to Charlotte's loyalties and where they lay, questions Miranda did not want voiced. To make her request any plainer would provoke criticism, and possibly a denial on principle. Conversely, if she had been less clear, she would have risked being ignored, and simply requesting her sister's addition to Lady Mary's household would have seemed to be currying favor.
Really, the only safe thing to do would be to not make the request at all, but no matter what Charlotte thought, Miranda did love her sister, and she remembered Charlotte's face the day Lady Mary had been sent away.
Not that it mattered. Queen Jane had said nothing-- an answer in itself. Miranda bowed her head over her needlework and stabbed viciously at the cloth.
That night, as they prepared her Majesty for bed and the king's nightly visit, Queen Jane called Miranda over to kneel beside her chair. "I have been thinking about your request, Lady Lisle," she said, when Miranda had settled, her skirts pooled about her knees.
"Forgive me, Majesty," Miranda said. "I spoke out of turn."
"You say your sister loves the Lady Mary," the queen said, ignoring her apology.
There was only one answer to that. "She does. Very much."
Queen Jane looked down at her hands, folded in her lap, the beads of a rosary twined between her fingers. "I think the Lady Mary would be happier with a friend," she said. "I will speak to the king."
Stunned, Miranda bowed her own head. "Thank you, your Majesty."
She would have risen to go, but the queen put a hand on her shoulder. "That is all? You ask for nothing for yourself?"
Miranda blinked. "I... what is there to ask for myself? I am your Majesty's lady. That is all I have ever desired."
Not true, not really, but the queen did not know that and at any rate there really wasn't anything she wanted. Nothing that the queen could give her. So she could meet her Majesty's searching gaze with a clear and honest expression, empty of subterfuge or secrets.
"That will be all, Lady Lisle," the queen said finally, and let Miranda rise and go.
Title: A Favor
Story: Shine Like It Does -- Tudors AU
Colors: First light 11 (Clemency), color party 1 (Filemot)
Supplies and Materials: Eraser (Tudors AU), glue (You might try to do your best to avoid tackling a difficult family issue today, but it's likely better for everyone if you face an existing conflict head on.), novelty beads ("Heaven goes by favor. If it went by merit, you would stay out and your dog would go in." -- Mark Twain)
Word Count: 849
Rating: PG
Summary: Miranda asks a favor.
Warnings: none.
Notes: Immediately precedes this. Also, Miranda's first husband is a fictional son of this guy's son.
Eleven days after Anne Boleyn's execution, England had a new queen.
Miranda could not say she was surprised. Nor was she terribly surprised when Queen Jane asked her to serve among her ladies. She accepted, of course. She was still a Howard man's wife, even if she'd not seen him since before his cousin's execution and doubted that she'd ever see him again. She could be safe among the queen's ladies.
Safe, and anonymous; she dared not put herself forward in any way. She served the queen and kept her eyes down, and did not even attend her husband's execution. Not that she cared much for him, but it was a shame that a man should die only because his family fell from favor. Well, no matter. He was dead, and she was left with an object lesson in what happened when ambition overreached.
But time marched on and the tumult of the court began to settle somewhat. Queen Jane calmed her husband considerably by her quiet, docile, soothing presence. The Lady Mary submitted to her father's authority at last, and with her the faction supporting her. Miranda began to dare hope that she could stand out again.
And then the rumors.
Lady Mary would be returning to court. Of course she would. Whether she would stay... but that was another matter and not Miranda's concern. Not exactly.
She waited until that August to approach the queen. Her husband had been dead for two months, the Lady Mary had been pacified for one. Miranda's own family had not come to court in months, not since the death of the Princess Dowager (as she thought of Catherine of Aragon, as she had to think of her, no matter how betrayed her mother sounded or how wounded Charlotte looked), and so it seemed-- not safe, perhaps, but less risky.
"Majesty," she said, hesitant, one night as they all sewed together in the candlelight.
"Lady Lisle," the queen replied, placid.
"I wonder if I might make a request of you," Miranda said. She heard the other ladies shift, heard a few stifled murmurs, and dared not lift her eyes from her needlework.
"As you like," the queen said, still placid.
Miranda wondered briefly if Jane Seymour had ever sounded emotional in her life, then dismissed the thought as unproductive. "It is said that the Lady Mary will return to court, to be reconciled with her father," she said. It was a question, though not worded as one, and though she received no answer, she continued anyway. "My sister is a great friend of Lady Mary's. She served her when they were both children. I-- I know that if the Lady Mary is to have her own household again, my sister would be glad to be a part of it."
And that, that was all she dared say. To expand further on Charlotte's love for the lady would invite questions as to Charlotte's loyalties and where they lay, questions Miranda did not want voiced. To make her request any plainer would provoke criticism, and possibly a denial on principle. Conversely, if she had been less clear, she would have risked being ignored, and simply requesting her sister's addition to Lady Mary's household would have seemed to be currying favor.
Really, the only safe thing to do would be to not make the request at all, but no matter what Charlotte thought, Miranda did love her sister, and she remembered Charlotte's face the day Lady Mary had been sent away.
Not that it mattered. Queen Jane had said nothing-- an answer in itself. Miranda bowed her head over her needlework and stabbed viciously at the cloth.
That night, as they prepared her Majesty for bed and the king's nightly visit, Queen Jane called Miranda over to kneel beside her chair. "I have been thinking about your request, Lady Lisle," she said, when Miranda had settled, her skirts pooled about her knees.
"Forgive me, Majesty," Miranda said. "I spoke out of turn."
"You say your sister loves the Lady Mary," the queen said, ignoring her apology.
There was only one answer to that. "She does. Very much."
Queen Jane looked down at her hands, folded in her lap, the beads of a rosary twined between her fingers. "I think the Lady Mary would be happier with a friend," she said. "I will speak to the king."
Stunned, Miranda bowed her own head. "Thank you, your Majesty."
She would have risen to go, but the queen put a hand on her shoulder. "That is all? You ask for nothing for yourself?"
Miranda blinked. "I... what is there to ask for myself? I am your Majesty's lady. That is all I have ever desired."
Not true, not really, but the queen did not know that and at any rate there really wasn't anything she wanted. Nothing that the queen could give her. So she could meet her Majesty's searching gaze with a clear and honest expression, empty of subterfuge or secrets.
"That will be all, Lady Lisle," the queen said finally, and let Miranda rise and go.
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