the lady of shalott @thladyofshalott - Tumblr Blog

jane dudley, lady warwick played by velvet for @bloodydayshq

four walls, and four gray towers overlook a space of flowers, and the silent isle imbowers the lady of shalott

#dont u dare ask me why the format is messing up in the poetry bit ok #bd.intro

starter for @truedevotions

The journey from Hampton to Greenwich had been easy enough, for Jane was given a seat with her Leicester siblings, her head long lost to dreams of what was to come. For the previous month spent at the fortune of her good luck had been a month far greater and more cherished than any other in her entire lifetime. Having met the King, and danced with a great number of beautiful people, Jane felt almost entirely out of her depth — for she struggled and strained to keep her head above water between serving her cousin’s pregnant wife with her head so full of fantasy. The arrival itself was as easily led, and though she did not present herself glittering in splendour as many others did upon that first Yuletide night, Jane thought herself as giddy as a girl, her cheeks blushed as she held her cup, her eyes sparkling as she looked around that splendid room. Though she was not as well versed on who was who, Jane did her best to treat everyone with the same smile and tilt of her head, thus meeting the other whom she did not know in a modest sense. “Good evening,” she called, a sigh spilling from her lips, her cup pressed against her chest. “How glorious this is…” Jane commented absently to whomever it was whom had crossed her path.

#percy.#bd.event004 #truedevotions

robsartd

the dudley family of warwick castle had always been a little more than mere strangers to the countess of leicester, connected to her husband by nature of their shared blood and family name but little else. as a newlywed, she had been hesitant to reach out to the countess of warwick for guidance or sympathy, concerned that her humble birth would be reason enough to spurn the outstretched hand of friendship ─ instead, it had been easier to prompt kismet to invite her cousin over in a careful move that allowed her name to slip into idle conversations until it had not felt so foreboding to approach the elders of the family with the introductions to her person and her morals already being made by jane and kismet both. she had always enjoyed the company of lady warwick, who was of a similar age to herself, so when she had been given leave to invite a few others to accompany her and watch the children as her belly grew larger by the week, there had only been one name that came to mind. still believing herself undeserving of such attention, however, she endeavored to keep her requests simple, not wishing to tax poor jane or rob her of a chance to shine in court now that her aged husband ( older than her own father ! amy had dropped to her knees in prayer when the match had been made, thanking god in one breath for her good fortune in securing a dashing, virile husband and asking the almighty to be kind enough to give jane a reprieve from her marital duties in another ) was far from her side.

it was not difficult to be endeared by jane who, like kismet, still possessed the innocence and beauty of hopeful youth that amy had long since forsaken and she extended an arm to grasp jane by the hand as she neared, pressing a kiss to her cheek in thanks as she accepted the cup of mulled wine. ❝ better now that you have returned to my side ... sit a while, you have made yourself so busy that i cannot tell the difference between you and the bees that float from flower to flower. ❞ patting the space beside her, amy shifted over with one hand braced on her modest bump, hidden well enough beneath the layers of fabric for now. ❝ tell me, how is kismet ? has she set her eyes on a poor, unsuspecting gentleman for the evening ? and yourself, my darling ! what is your opinion of our great king and his court ? it has been a while since you last came to court, yes ? ❞

thladyofshalott

Jane’s duty, as was her grandmother’s lessons before her death (she had passed in bed, surrounded by family, so her granddaughter didn’t think too sadly upon recollection), was to give the family a bountiful number of children, to give birth to heirs to one day aid the Monarch of his own duties and levies, to give birth to daughters to extend the stray branches of alliances. She had been married to St John for the matter of his good connection and fine land due to be inherited after the death of his own father, a Warwickshire family who had long been in steadfast support to the Warwick Dudleys — who had been promised the granddaughter of the Earl in matrimony long before she had been of age to take him as her lawful husband. Made by proxy, that was where she was meant to live and die, to give birth to an army — to become something akin to both the Virgin Mary and Gaia with her long enveloping stretch of motherhood.

Her husband, however, was more absent than anything, preferring the company of his men over his wife, who though young, had done all in her power to appeal to her other half. So, as she watched her cousin’s wife throb with pregnancy, Jane couldn’t help but think that that was meant to be her condition too, that the two of them could grow together and Amy Robsart would become only a sense of support and guardianship after the successful births of her two children from her previous marriage.

With pains, she sat by Amy’s side — not a single request was too daunting, or too stubborn, for Jane had long resided herself to being the caretaker, the nourishing maiden, the one to offer kindness in place of the usual tirade of stiff upper lips. Coy, almost taken aback by Amy’s bout of kindness, Jane dropped into the seat by her cousin’s side, her eyes tracing over her slight swollen stomach as if in some unbridled fear of what was to come next before returning her gaze back, her smile sincere and joyous as she shook her head with silent enjoyment.

“Kismet? I think I saw her pass somewhere or other, she probably has a trail of wonderful suitors at her feet, as is her curse — for she has become something akin to an angel, don’t you think?” She asked, nursing her own cup in her lap, sitting straight as if in fear of being sought by something far grander than she. “It’s been a lifetime… It is so sparkling and merry that I dare not blink in case I miss a single moment… You must find it so tiresome, being with a child at the same time as holding your own sweet court… If there is anything I can do for you, Amy, you must ask me — out of duty, and to our own future friendship,” Jane declared, bowing her head before rising again, her neck turning so she could admire the grand heads of beautiful people dancing in flocking pairs. “Where is my cousin? Should he not be sitting by your side? I fear men are always absent, always on the run,” she added, partly in jest, her smile strained for just a flicker of a moment before she sipped at her cup. “What would they do without us?”

#how did this get so long smh !!!!#robsartd #dudley.#bd.goddesses

hundredthousandtimes

Magnificent Century - Kösem: Episode 47

Atike Sultan

#a.

Jane had been absent from court simply due to her husband who had been away either with her own father, or to his own family. At any case, Jane had been secluded to Warwick Castle, where she doted upon her mother when she was not passed to her cousins’ countryside household to act as a companion to Kismet Dudley, or as a caregiver to her cousin’s wife’s children from a previous marriage. Her loneliness had, at least, emboldened her sense of self, her prayers leaving her devout to her moments alone. It had only been upon the pregnancy of Amy Robsart had she been asked to accompany her cousins to court again, more so as their guest than to her husband, who was still far from her side (not that she was against that, for to be without he was only a blessing).

She remained by Amy’s side then as they entertained the masses with the presence of the Dudley household, ritually checking on her cousins with tender touches or sweetened whispers, straying often to Amy Robsart side when Kismet was not in need of her attention. Passing a cup towards the Countess, Jane sat by her side, arranging her veil over her head to expose the smile towards her cousin-in-law. “How do you feel? Is there anything I may do? Perhaps another cushion, or something sweetened?” She asked, doting on Amy as if she herself felt the kicks of a new life inside of her — the rest of the room then fleeting, for even if the King himself approached, Jane would not overlook her duty. @robsartd

#bd.goddesses #robsartd

boleynsrex

The King was in high spirits, the pallor of cheeks infused with high colour; flanked by a pair of slanted, sulky lips, and a concentrated gaze, knifing across the crowd, reflecting in his black-Boleyn irises the spouting of the torches, the jewels and gems splashed into the hair of silk-garbed maidens. Touching the cool rim of his chalice to his mouth, William flashes a smile over it, nodding encouragingly to one gentleman, Sir Thomas Dymoke, flapping around a lady’s skirts, begging the King’s approval. He bequeaths it with hearty cheer, the Percy fiasco suddenly forgotten, his bubbling blood tempered with sweet wine and sweetmeats – devoured in typical Henrician abundance.

William swilled the rest of his wine in one swift wash, droplets of it staining the cream of his shift, like bubbles of blood, dapples of rubies. Treading the shadowed perimeters of the Great Hall to make his way – discreetly – to the smorgasbord, he helped himself to another lusty cup: one too many for mortal men, but an ideal amount for a King, keeping him in good cheer, amenable to the flattery of his court. Turning his gaze to the side, and finding another lingering in the shroud of darkness, he shoots the lady a puzzled glance – followed by a grin – as he assesses the butter-gold of her hair, the doe-eyed gaze stamped into her round-face, the jewel-edged cut of her gown, skimming along her creamy bossom. At his side, the King’s cup-bearer satisfies his apparent curiosity in hushed, subservient tones. ‘Jane Dudley, sir. Her father owns half of Warwickshire; the other by her husband.’

Will’s copper brows rose, his interest piqued. ‘Ah. Will you have some wine, Mistress Jane?’ As he spoke, his tongue swished with the scent, the ease, of the drink.

thladyofshalott

Jane had not, in any such way, asked for the attention then bestowed upon her. But the looks exchanged was quite enough to leave the Mistress of Warwick in want for a particular audience, if only simply to stand within his glow, to allow some of his shine to rub off upon her. Still, though she was coy compared to the French visitors who wore gowns half way down their chests encrusted with fine jewelry, her veil only moved from in front of her face when she was called to meet him, her simmering attention then taken only for his pleasure once she stood before him.

With a careful touch she lowered to the floor in a sweeping curtsy, her gaze downcast towards his very feet before her lids revealed the light hazel of her eye that seemed neither to command a green or brown town, but instead something golden against the flicker of burning candlelight. “Your Majesty,” she gasped, the plump fall of her lower lip hesitating before she picked herself up to her tender height, her mouth then settled into a smile. “I would be so honoured, your Grace. Or, oh, should I call you Apollo tonight?” Jane asked, almost sincerely, as she held her hands together by her front before one of his men handed her a cup from the King's own store, her cheeks flushed from the unexpected shift of fortune.

#tudor.#boleynsrex #found a rare nice sized gif

kismctt

closed event starter for jane ! @thladyofshalott

the night was far more lively than anything else kismet had experienced yet, full of beautiful scenery painted and dancing that nearly made her legs ache from how frequently she had already spun amongst the other bodies. struck by a spell of breathless giddiness, kismet had pulled herself from the festivities to seek out more wine and perhaps a moment to sit and rest her body, eyes instinctively scoping the mass of people for a particular man. however, her eyes landed on her beloved jane instead - the woman looked akin to a painting hung on the wall with the way that her fabric beautifully sat on her frame. while jane may believe at times that she sat in the corners, modest and to be forgotten due to her married nature ( and absent husband ) , kismet had only ever been able to see her as a shining visage to reach for.

with a laugh, kismet wrapped both arms around jane once she had approached, enveloping her in her arms tightly. " sweet hestia," she teased, speaking softly in her ear. " you stray so far from your home by the hearth, or perhaps you may seek to inspire a sense of family amongst the ladies and lords dancing?" her eyebrow raised as she took a step back, shifting so that she could stand beside her instead, entwining her arm with her cousin's and resting her head against her shoulder. there was a sense of comfort to be taken in the presence of her family, as if it stirred something within kismet. " your song was beautiful, truly, jane. "

thladyofshalott

For most of the evening, Jane had kept herself to her kin who resembled some of the most magnificent visages she had ever been so fortunate to see. In awe, she followed, her head bowed, cast by a veil that lay in a sheer curtain across her delicate face — for a long time hence, she had been known as the wife of an absent husband, her gentleness scrubbed away by longing or yearning by the tongues of people who did not know her, or wished some fault to befall the rising House of Dudley. Behind such doors, however, it was Jane who flourished. Alongside her cousin was where she especially grew bold with loud laughter or giddy smiles.

Even when caught beneath the flamboyance of such a perfect evening, Jane could not help but embrace her cousin with glee, her laugh spilling from her lips in untamed waves, her head thrown back so her veil moved in unison, the soft tip of her nose and high rise of full cheeks appearing from beneath.

“Dear Selene, I stray so far only to be with you, but do not ever leave this night, for it is too perfect — and to see you go would be such a tear to mine own heart,” Jane grinned, then holding Kismet’s shoulders as they stood opposite one another before they reunited arm in arm. “And you are a vision of the night sky, your dress! It is beautiful, it really is… Oh, Robert must want to hide you away, you will earn every eye to settle upon you…” She whispered, her voice just loud enough to be heard over the music for Kismet’s ear only, her squeeze a gentle need for immediate intimacy. “Isn’t it magical?” She then added, Jane’s attention wavering only to the decorations that coloured the walls around them.

#hmmmm trying gif icons cos there arent many good size gifs... im SORRY #kismctt #dudley.#bd.minievent001 #bd.goddesses

As the night erupted with good cheer and the display of many perfected skills by the hands of the beautiful ladies of court, Jane remained hidden behind the cousins of her Dudley kin. In lappings of ivory, her eyelashes flush against the veil that seemed woven into her butter blonde hair, Jane cradled her patience with modesty, the gentle hazel of her gaze flickering from the ground to the passing monument of the King, who presented himself as the grand Sun God of Apollo — his look alone leaving all to stare with gaping mouths, as if history itself was taking place before them beneath the roof of Hampton Court. Jane, who had never seen someone so grand, could not help but steal glances towards the crown in the same way a sinful man could not avoid the temptation of something desired. Piercing the soft skin of her hands with crescent moons from her nails, Jane tried to look away, as if to tear herself from the King in order to look instead to her cousins who all seemed so decadent as Amphitrite, Poseidon and Selene.

The other men, who were lounging with glee to be entertained by the ladies of Grecian luxury, had remarked upon the lady woven in white — whispering then to the King, that she seemed to look at no one else but he. @boleynsrex

#bd.minievent001 #yelo #boleynsrex #tudor.

JANE DUDLEY as HESTIA

Goddess of the domestic and civic hearth, the home, sacred and sacrificial fire, virginity, family and the state

Naturally inclined to modesty, Jane wore nothing so spectacular to draw the attention of anyone but her most inner circle - or at least, that had been the hope. As a wife to an absent husband, a cousin to the newly flourished Leicester Dudleys, Jane waited before she took her own deity, watching as her cousin took the moonlight glamour of Selene, her cousin-in-law evoking Poseidon's wife to match her husband. It was a splendid affair, for no one could deny the grandeur that surrounded the women of court. Jane, who was not a true maid of honour nor a maiden to sing the lark of a nightingale, reserved her own song for the aftermath, her gentle tones describing the myth of Apollo and Daphne through melody, her eyes trained upon her cousins' household with a coyness that oozed from the Lady Warwick despite her sweet voice. Having always gone unnoticed, it would be that night of splendour that grasps Jane Dudley within the heat of the English court at long last.

#bd.goddesses #a.