MILK & HONEY

JANE SEYMOUR of wolfhall. just because you are soft doesn't mean you are not a f o r c e. honey and wildfire are both the colour gold.; . dependent &. associated with ( tudorhqs ) penned by olivia.

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- ELIZABETH SEYMOUR. 

It seemed that both Seymour sisters had the same idea that morning, and Elizabeth knew that the rider up ahead of her was Jane from the moment that she saw her on her white mare, Pearl. “It truly is.” Elizabeth said, smiling as her own grey speckled mare whinnied seemingly pleased to be reunited with Pearl. They’d been given the horses at the same time and they’d grown together at Wolfhall just like Elizabeth and Jane had. “It’s lovely to see you Jane, it seems we had the same idea to go for a ride this morning.” 

       It was no rare thing to see a smile on Lady Jane’s lips, but it was increased tenfold in the presence of family - particularly, her beloved older sister, Elizabeth.  ❛  Dear Lizzie, It feels so long since we last saw one another,  ❜  she proclaimed dramatically, wishing to wrap her hands around the other - but stilling her actions after considering the posibility of tumbling from her horse.  ❛  Out here in the wilderness, it is as though nothing else matters. I long for the simplicity of Wolf Hall, yet a bitter sweetness poisions my thoughts of it. I miss papa so terribly.  ❜

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- STEPHEN PERCY .

Stephen had been taking advantage of the fair day and large grounds. Most time he would be confined to the smaller metropolitan areas, but opportunity had arisen and he was spending some time in the courts. And so he was out for a gallop upon his favourite steed. As he approached the other mounted person, he slowed to a gentle walk. “ Good day to you as well, m’lady, ” he responded with a courteous bow of his head. “ Quite the lovely day! ” His charming and well renowned smile blossomed across his face, causing his face to crinkle attractively around his shining eyes. 

       It was not uncommon to greet nobility, not with everyone swarming around court like a nest of bees had been planted deep into the heart, and all around the land, they floated from place to place collecting pollen to make honey. Jane always regarded them kindly, no matter who they were. She did not know the Lord Mayor well, but she had heard of him.  ❛   It is nice to see that another appreciates the spirit of the day. I gather that most of the court have not yet risen from their slumbers.   ❜

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“ she had lavender in her hair, and roses on her cheek. ”

(via hannigram-horror)

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       The promise of spring could be felt in the morning air, a strand of warmth pierced through the cool barrier and warmed her cheeks as she rode heartily through the grasslands. In the same way that she enjoyed late night walks in the garden, Jane found a morning ride through the countryside to be the most splendid and inspiring start to the day - it reminded her of a far more quaint life at Wolf Hall. Through the ripple of wind and the gallop of hooves, she could hear the sound of another mare approaching. Pearl slowed down to a trot, allowing her to turn to the other rider,  ❛   Good morning,  ❜  she greeted sweetly, offering a soft smile on rosebud lips.   ❛   Is it not a lovely day for a ride?  ❜

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— VIOLETTE DE LAURENT .

          She tipped her head back, draining the rest of the crimson liquid from her silver goblet. Violette’s heart fluttered in her chest. She stood in mixed company as conversations flowed easily around her, yet her gaze was unfocused and her mouth still. Her cheeks were twinged pink from her slight intoxication. Violette noted a lull in the conversation, looking up to realise that eyes were trained on her expectantly. “Oh, forgive me… What were we speaking of?”

       Despite the passing of festivities, the momentum of the court did not slow. Jane had never attended so many feasts, dined with every respected member of the nobility and almost fallen asleep at a feast table, as she had in King Henry’s court. It seemed that despite seeing one another often, courtiers found something new to whisper about and rumours would circulate like birds of prey waiting for their next meal. She offered an indulgent smile to the courtier, easily dismissing the lack of focus which Lady de Laurent had on their conversation,   ❛  Do not be troubled, I was merely commenting on the exquisite fabric of that maiden’s gown.  ❜  

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— CAMELLIA ALTIER .

Though a book laid open in her lap, Mell’s mind was elsewhere. Although she was barely 18, she had already begun to feel the pressure to find a suitable match. If her father had his way, she would be married to the first wealthy man that expressed interest in, much like her sister had. But Mell did not want someone who valued her solely for her pretty face. She yearned for something else, not romance, but for someone who valued her intelligence above all else. She was disturbed from her thoughts by someone speaking. “Utopia, written by Thomas More,” she said, assuming that they had asked the title of the nearly forgotten book. 

       There was something rather charming about ladies gathering collectively to fawn over the written word, although the contents usually pertained to some love letter written by a debaucherous lord. Jane had always had a good mind to turn away from such sin, not allowing her pure mind to be tarnished by the needy vices of human affection, and yet she could not help but yearn for it. The fair-haired lady spoke of Utopia, a book well known to her, but she wondered wistfully about her own perfect world. ❛  Do you like to read, my lady?  ❜

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— MEG DOUGLAS .

Meg would have joined the cast of the play herself had she thought she wouldn’t get a scolding from her mother or any other royal family members…it was not the most fitting exhibition for a lady of royal blood to participate in, many would say. Meg usually did not give a fig if she was scolded, but she did not want to spend her time arguing during such a wonderful event. Still, she sighed as she viewed the show, knowing that her late uncle would have likely carried her up to that stage himself had he known she had even thought of participating.

A young lady around her age was the one who stole the show, in Meg’s eyes, and she simply could not stop herself from approaching her after the show was done. “Lady Jane, you were marvelous,” Meg gushed, meaning every word. “How freeing it must have been to perform in front of all of these people! You were just delightful!”

       Praise had not been expected, but she welcomed it with open arms. Each compliment spoken in loud volumes over the large crowds and incoherent babbles made her heart soar further, as though her feet could barely touch the ground. Jane knew the young woman by reputation alone, but she felt an eagerness to speak with her more. Meg’s exuberance and delight for the evening were palpable, evident in the fair-haired lady’s bright eyes and cheerful words, Jane thought she was lovely.  ❛  Thank you, Lady Meg,  ❜  Jane beamed warmly, unconsciously twirling in synchronized movements to the sound of the violin playing. ❛  I was most surprised that you did not participate.  ❜ 

[victoria-pedretti]

[chrishemsworht]

female awesome meme: [2/15] females in movies → Ella ““I’m no princess. I have no carriage, no parents, no dowry. I do not even know if that beautiful slipper will fit. But if it does, will you take me as I am — an honest country girl who loves you?”

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       Her heart felt as though it were barely contained within her chest, beating wildly against the willowy branches of her ribs. Never before has little lady Jane partook in any form of exhibition, one that would see her act as another would. It had been a comfort to know that her own brother Nicholas had joined in the comradery of it, yet she felt certain that the gazes of people upon her had never been in such abundance. When it had finished, Janey had returned to the throng of people on shaking limbs - it had been exhilarating. In truth, Jane felt wonderful. She felt as though she could laugh or scream, anything to staunch the temperamental energy which had found root in her body.  ❛  I feel like I could fly! I could let the wind carry me away.  ❜ 

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- GRACE CROMWELL . 

grace listened as the other spoke, nodding at lady seymours words. “ yes, i have heard so as well. —- let us hope it shall not get that far, i doubt i could handle such views. ” she admitted rather quietly. happily that she was here to witness it but at the same time she was not sure if she would do well if she was to encounter such unfortunate events. grace smiled brightly, she enjoyed how proud jane was of her brothers. “ i wish them the best of luck. in all honesty i do not know if my brother actually partakes in it. —- but i doubt it. ” it locked a small laugh from her lips as she blushed slightly. the youngest of the cromwell children had not particularly thought about it before she met vince but she thought it a sweet gesture. “ i am sure your brother would appreciate that a lot. —- ” it was ridicolous but the girl could not help but smile. “ i believe i will give mine to the duke of mantua. —– ” the rosy coutenance grew a little redder as she felt the blood rush into her cheeks. 

         The frown on her features was replaced with a soft smile, urged on by Grace’s gentle words. If the courtiers were to be split into pray or predator, she felt certain that Grace would be a lamb right beside her. Some girls were made of soft petals, others thorns, and then there were those who did not even bear talking about. The youngest Cromwell was pleasant enough company and perhaps the only one that Jane felt she could relate to.  ❛   My fears mirror your own, Lady Grace,  ❜  Jane uttered with a low sight, linking her own hands together in a knit of digits. She had not heard much of Grace’s elder brother, but that was often for the best at court. People rarely spoke about others unless it was with envy or disdain, even admiration was tarnished by sin.   ❛   I daresay that there are many maidens who would gladly bequeath my brother Nicholas with their favour,   ❜  She felt a rush of happiness and delight rise within her when Grace spoke of the Duke.  ❛   How wonderful!  Does he wish to court you?  ❜

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Lady Jane Seymour attending the soiree & dance. 

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- ELEANOR BRANDON .

The jousting tournament had been as any other that had previously been held at court; many noblemen or royalty participated in hopes of winning, favors were given and there was always at least one accident.— this time had been no different. Now Eleanor stood and observed the aftermath of it. The noblemen who stood by their horses, the ladies that tried to gain their attention, some whom searched for the one that had been given their favor.  But for now she had chosen to stand aside and watch it all unfold, instead of joining the ladies of the court in the competition that occurred between them. It may not be as obvious as the jousting tournament, but it was still very much there.

        If there was one happy feeling which could be taken away from the joust, it was that Jane was proud to be a Seymour. Her nerves had been shocked by the end of it, palms had sweated against her lap as they thrummed. Her brother Edward had done well, and Nicholas even better. It was unsurprising that a king should win the match, but the Seymours had shown their strength. However, no matter how happy she felt about such matters, there was a weight to her feelings that cautioned her about attending a joust again - she did not enjoy it. Instead, she had been a nervous wreck and thought her place would have been better in the palace than in the stands.  ❛  Are you pleased with the results?  ❜ Jane inquired to the fair-haired woman who stood next to her, while she kept a hand to her own chest in hopes of calming her beating heart

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- PHILLIP MOUNTBATTEN .

     “I believe you caught me in a rare form; forgive me, for I lack my usually pretty humor today. I am unable to escape apprehension before a joust.”  Philip greeted the other with a withering smile, which featured the curling of his lips into a friendly gesture, while his normally jovial eyes retained a hollow stare. He brought the glass to his lips once more, placing a great deal of faith in the liquid to steady his constitution. A restrained countenance remained steadfast as one of his greatest achievements; yet his refrained nature succeeded to nerves in the wake of his forthcoming fight. Too great a pressure seemed mounted upon his shoulders; his mountainous size demanded success, while the thought of leaving his Joanna privy to the tittering of other wives should he suffer an easy defeat, stole the air directly from his lungs. “Perhaps light conversation shall serve me better then consuming an army’s worth of wine - I beg you to sit, and let me engage your company for several minutes. Tell me, which of the festivities do you await the most? I look forward to the play most anxiously, beyond the reasoning I shall have finished my knightly duties by then.” 

        Burnt bacon filled her nostrils as she walked into the banquet hall, where some had settled to break their fast before the tournament.  Jane did not know if she had the stomach for it, so she simply drunk a goblet of pressed apples and walked past the tables. One poor man looked particularly uneasy, but he seemed to perk up when he noticed her looking. Had she stared a little too much? She had not meant to pry, he just looked frightfully pale. Jane sat down when he offered since she was in need of distraction herself. She had been consumed with thoughts of the unknown, it was almost maddening!  ❛  My excitement is split between the upcoming play and the masquerade, I enjoy the artfulness of it.  ❜  Those were activities which she was far more well versed in than the sport which was being held.  ❛  Whomever decided on the events for the week must have been exhausted by the end of the planning.  ❜

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- HENRY FITZROY . 

OPEN STARTER / FITZYBOY.

                            The fragrance of baked goods, meat-pies and marzipan lingered in the air, winding through the tents that dotted the courtyard laid just beyond the tiltyard where competitors would parade themselves before the assembled crowds, shouting lewd and barbaric cheers whilst jousters rode up to the stands of spectators and ladies, imploring for their favours, competing for the bittersweet taste of glory – akin to the iron of blood in one’s mouth. Fitzroy, for his part, could take or leave the spectacle; it was something his father had relished to the hilt that he himself felt overall impassive toward. He had witness true bravery, true physical prowess in the war ––– and this, let it be known, was far from it. Meandering through the alleys paved between the vibrant tents, where merchants and courtesans alike set up shop, Henry tossed a hunk of bread into a growing pile of provisions. To the individual who had witnessed his act, he cocked a brow and explained smoothly, ❛ it’s for the townspeople, who shall arrive on the morrow begging for scraps.  Merchants are generous in the quantity they throw out, but it is generally unfit for consumption. ❜ The duke cleared his throat and gestured toward the path, ❛ let us not concern ourselves with such matters. I trust you have enjoyed the sport thus far today –– or is it too violent for your tastes ? ❜

        The emcapment of tents all housing hopeful champions had become a maze to Jane, who had been searching for her family’s coat of arms for longer than she cared to admit. She had hoped to wish her brothers good health and the best of luck before their next turns arrived, but her efforts had proved to be fruitless. Instead, she had taken to listening to the idle chatter around her, which heaved with excitement and speculation. Some said that a joust was the making of a man, others argued that it was far from a gallant exercise. Jane had little opinion on the matter. She watched with curiosity as Henry Fitzroy tossed a loaf of bread, but her internal confusion was met with an answer. Her head nodded in response as she walked closer,  ❛ The townspeople will certainly appreciate your concern.  ❜  Thoughts did not often drift to the peasantry, yet on the occasions that they did, she felt pity for their circumstances. Jane would never know what it was like to work tirelessly and beg for scraps.  ❛  The sport has left me feeling a little uneasy. I am not accustomed to violence, even if it is simply a game.  ❜

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Lady Jane Seymour attending the Outdoor Festival. 

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— DAVID LINDSAY .

“ no brother likes to hear such a thing, my lady seymour. “ the earl chuckled amused by her words. she was still so young and delicate, it reminded him of a long lost love he once had. with a nod of his head he walked over and sat down on the cold bench, only shielded from it from his furr cloak. “ it seems we have a deal then. “ david took a deep breath as he sat there, in the quiet of the night observing the stars above them before he answered. “ no, not for very long. i arrived about five days ago. “ his eyes moved from the start spangled sky down to meet the young woman’s eyes. 

it was the sparkle of curiousity in his eyes that wondered what she did out here at this hour. “ i ask for yer forgivness about my lack of manners, but surely a young maiden like ye cannot have such a trouble filled mind to be out this late when sleep should be found easily. —- what does cause ye mind distress, lady seymour ? ”

        ❛  I fear that you may be right about that.  ❜  The lady did not feel afraid of the darkness, but perhaps that was her own naivety. She had become well accustomed to the comfort and protection of Wolfhall, where there was little danger in her visiting the gardens at night. It had often been her safe-place, in which solace and peace of mind could be found. She had little of the troubles, which she now felt burdened by. If her father were still alive she would have written to him of her time at court. And yet, if her father were still alive, she might not have been troubled at all. It was in his absence that the world felt more dangerous and punishing.  ❛  Then it must still seem strange to you. Unless you easily adapt?  ❜  Jane threaded her fingers into the tassels which hung from the ends of her sleeves, unconsciously braiding the strands.

Jane had heard little of the Earl of Crawford, only the rumours which she would not put any weight into. If she were to believe every whisper which spread across the castle, she would be reluctant to depart from the safety of her chambers. Her warm hazel gaze flitted briefly from the sapphire velvet of her robes up to his face and then back down again, he was handsome and seemingly unafraid of asking questions to things which others would overlook.  ❛  My life has changed so much recently since the death of my father.  My restless nights are consumed with the loss of him and yet, it was not that forced me to seek solace in the gardens. Recently, there was an execution and I had the misfortune of witnessing it, a troubling first for me. ❜