paradisalogs | wrist watch time, slowing as she goes to sleep

Entry tags:

wrist watch time, slowing as she goes to sleep

Who: Elizabeth Tudor (

commandsthewind ) and you~!
What: Intro things, and one very very annoyed and exhausted Queen.
When: August 15th
Where: The Foyer
Rating: G

It was the shock of it that left her reeling, that was all, or so she told herself. Elizabeth was after all a brilliant liar amongst her other sins, especially to herself. Though this would take skill... One minute, getting ready for another hard days ride back to Court, another day closer till when she was free of this blasted armour. She knew it was safety, they had idea what soldiers were still left on the country side... but she longed for her own bed. Another day going past the wary faces of her people, under grey skies to pass the good news along was dragging her down. They wouldn't forget though, and neither would she. This victory came at too high a price.

But it was a victory, and Elizabeth swallow the bitter taste in her mouth for it -- and prayed her people would forgive her their sons and brothers now gone, for she never would.

Though those thoughts would not help her right now, so she rubbed a hand over her dry eyes in an effort that this strangeness would some how disappear as suddenly as it came, that this was all a product of her now apparently deranged mind. Give her another assassin, she might even welcome the relief if nothing else, but this? The dim pre-dawn light turned suddenly bright and she was inside where she'd just been about ready to mount a horse. Not here, this was no Estate in England, she had made a point of knowing them all well.

"How fitting, I defeat my greatest foe, only to find it's sent me mad..." Though it was more of a mutter to herself, her dry tone not lifting even now.

But still, she forced herself up right, and tried to make sense of this illusion, she was strong for her soldiers in the face of death she'd be strong for herself now... no matter what this was. She could pretend after all, that she was not wearing that same haggard look she had for months now, that her face not so sunken, the ache suddenly building at her temples was usual, her voice not so perpetually tired and the shake in her hands was... well, they stayed curled at her side for the time being.

She'd face this, whatever this was, like the daughter of a king she was raised and the sovereign she had been for the long years already gone. Not graceful for the clunk of metal that echoed as she walked, but determined with her back straight.

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The sound of metal was the first thing that caught Galadriel's attention. How could it not, her Elven hearing being what it was? And she knew well the sound of armor. But when she came face to face with the woman, two things stood out immediately.

First, and most obviously, her face. It was strange enough to see Celeborn's face on a mortal- but her own! If she had not been in the castle for over a year, it would have been enough to make her stop and stare, manners be damned.

However, she has been here long enough that that does not faze her for long. Instead, she cannot help but see the weariness etched into this stranger's familiar face. That expression too, was familiar to her. She has worn it herself. And so she set aside her personal curiosity for her healer's instincts.

"You are not well." It's not just an assessment. The offer of aid behind it is unspoken but plain.

Edited 2012-08-14 18:51 (UTC)

Elizabeth had seen many things in her life after all, more then you would think a Queen would, but it was true -- and politics had taught her to cover worst of it. She'd joked to Bess after all, when did she smile, let alone meet anything beyond the same straight face that she wore for almost everything.

But God help her, Elizabeth just stared at this. Who was this woman? Why did she have her face? The eyes that were so famously her mother's staring right back at her?

Her mouth opened as if she were going to say something --

-- the thought better of it to pause, close her mouth and swallow down the question.

There might be a likeness, that was truth, but this woman, if she really was a woman and not just the strangeness of her mind too far gone, was certainly... not like her completely. Whoever she was she made a mockery of Elizabeth's feigned divinity. This is what the people imagined when they spoke of Gloriana. That type of ethereal serenity that belonged in a painting and that Elizabeth knew she'd never possess.

For one thing, Elizabeth was not so... youthful. The Virgin Mary herself could not look so serene, and the only person she knew to be so tall was her father. This woman... whatever and whoever this woman was, made her feel like a imitation of herself, all too human.

Her mind, it seemed, wasn't done tormenting her with that which she strived to be and exposing all her failings otherwise. Was this some kind of purgatory? Where she had to face her own lies? All the things she'd never be, but tried to imitated regardless. She drew in a breath and tried to swallow down on her already dry throat. Find words that were not so coarse, that would be useful.

... Words would come in a second, she was sure, she was never at a loss for them. She'd been queen too long for that.

Any moment now.

"... My lady..."

How did she even address a woman bearing her own face?

Or she could just be her usual self, and be firmly resistant.

"I'm quite well and it is not my concern at present." A sharp clench of her nails into her palm. "I would be in your debt if you told me where exactly I am and where I could find my men."

"The latter is simple enough, though I fear you will not like my answer. You cannot. Wherever you were before this place, you are far from it now."

Ah, the newcomer speech. She'd become accustomed to giving it- though there was something absurdly surreal about watching her own face react to it.

"The former is more complex. This castle and this realm are both called Paradisa by those here. The nature of the place in which you have found yourself, however, requires some explanation."

She paused and looked Elizabeth over a second time. Whatever the woman may say, she was in no state to receive such a shock as Galadriel was like to give her.

"Will you not sit as we speak, my lady? There is much to tell."

"Can't...?" She grit her teeth, immediately refusing it. No, she refused to. "I am very sorry, I need to leave. I do not know who you are -- but I am the Queen of England, and my people need me. Now more then ever. So I'd appreciate if whatever game or illusion this is stopped. I have work to do. If this is some trick of Phillip's in an attempt to steal victory back --"

Elizabeth forced herself calm. Whoever she was, it probably wasn't her fault. She doubted, pious Catholic that he was, would use such a woman. That arrogant little man, was it not enough he'd stripped both their countries? Was he so desperate for victory?

"I care for it so much as what it takes to leave this place."

Such a brash reaction. But understandable, Galadriel supposed, particularly under the circumstances. But the young are prone to such things. Still, her tone hardened into something more serious, almost more stately. The old elf did not truly take offense, but this was something that needed explanation- and that meant that this new arrival needed to listen, queen or no.

"Had I the means to leave this place, I would not be here speaking with you now. Do not think you alone have taken from your duties. As you are Queen of England, I am Lady of Lothlórien. I was taken from my realm amid preparations for war.

If you sit, I will tell you what I know of this of place, of what I believe to be our best chance of escape. But this is no place for rashness. Haste will not avail you. Patience and persistence must be our weapons here."

Elizabeth was nothing but brash when she was worried, she couldn't show fear openly most times, so anger and that temper of hers was the next best thing - and this was fear. She knew well that even in victory her country was still weak, still needed guiding.

"Then you understand my need to leave, my lady." She dropped her head down for a second, because for whatever reason, looking at someone that seemed to glow and the irritation at her temples wasn't a good mix.

But the words of escape calmed her down, at least some what. She worked better with options, she hated absolutes. "That sounds wise enough," not that she really moved to sit. "Tell me, what is this plan that calls for such patience?"

And that she could at least do, be as calculating as possible as soon as she knew what to calculate.

That was something Galadriel could understand, but where Elizabeth turned hot when pressed, the Lady grew cold and deceptively calm. She had once burned with passion, but such things cannot be sustained and time had changed her. Where once had been a fire was the sea- now violent and untameable and now calm and still, but always dangerous. Always a force to be reckoned with.

"I do. And I am heartily sorry I cannot return you to your people at once. But this place is governed by magic fell and dark, beyond the knowledge of any here. A single misstep could be a most perilous thing. And so I believe we must explore, investigate, learn what we are able. It is in understanding the workings of this world that we will find its weakness."

It was not what the other woman wished to hear, she knew. In fact, it seemed quite likely she would be dismissed as mad- or perhaps as a product of madness. Yet the truth it remained and she will tell it.

"Magic?" There she gaped again. "It's... well I know fools believe in it, but honestly magic? Who told such things, you can be burnt for saying such..."

Witchcraft, as her mother knew well, was no a forgivable sin. "This is utterly..." but this woman didn't have any reason to lie, she doubted she was working for Phillip, and Phillip really was too much of a Catholic to resort to this, he would just kill her straight out for what she did. Not this sort of game.

If so, the Elizabeth was utterly lost. She had no comprehension of such things, outside of speaking to Dr. Dee, and he even said it was inexact. "... Presuming what you say is truth, how can such a thing be combated, even with the correct knowledge. Though I see no flaw with that. Knowledge is always best before striking."

"Burnt?" And there it was Galadriel's turn to gape. "For merely speaking of magic? I know many are wont to fear it- and not without reason- but I can scarcely imagine..."

And this made the answer to her next question somewhat more difficult. Understandably, after hearing that, she's more hesitant to come right out and explain that she has some understanding of such things and many of her friends have more direct dealings with it. She herself has been called a sorceress, though, to be honest, she did not consider her gifts to be magic at all- merely a part of her way of being. All of this is not to say that she feared judgement, of course. She's far too old and far too certain of herself for that. But she has been preached at before and she was decidedly not in the mood. So she tested the waters before taking the plunge.

"There are those here with skill in such things. Even magic is not without certain rules and conditions which may be exploited to one's own ends."

"Speaking, and if you are accused of practising it..." the distaste is evident in her voice, in the way she looks past Galadriel, and she's seen people burn, heard their screams. Just the once, everyone else had been so excited to go, and Elizabeth had been no exception. Only she'd thrown up when she'd come back, and swore never again.

It hadn't been the last time she'd seen so much more violence since. "It is largely for reasons such as you have said that people fear it. They believe witches bring plague, famine, cause children to die and rivers to dry up..." a shrug, she didn't know what else to say. "It's... complicated and has a great deal to do with religion and the faith of men's hearts. Which has never been my business."

It was the simplest way of explaining it. "Which is to say, as long as it does not harm me, and if what you say is true, I care little what people do with themselves. If that eases you some about it, for my part I am sick of such battles." And mostly, she did not believe it existed.

The obvious distaste was more reassuring than her words, in all honesty. People lie, but she is generally very good about judging when they are. Yes, even without cheating and using her talents. One learns these things over time and by necessity. There is much she might say on this subject, but she thought better of it, deciding instead to focus on the point at hand.

"Then, if I am to be spare a lecture, I will speak more plainly. I have long kept company with wizards, both here and in my own home, and, though I would not call them 'magic,' I am not without gifts of my own. Such things may be combated, if one knows how. This place should prove no different"

Elizabeth contemplated being horrified at such an admission -- she was a woman of her time, and more truly, the stories of fae as child had terrified her.

It would fit, as a fairies trick. Having a woman with her face, be so damnably ethereal and trick her.

But she didn't want to be insane, and as of the moment, she was too tired to care. "Keep what company you wish, I suppose. It is not my concern nor my worry if what you say is true, such things will be useful..." Practicality and usability came first as of escaping this place. She was curious though, about these 'gifts'. "How do they use them here?"

"A woman of practicality. It will serve you well here." There was a note of approval in her voice. Hesitant she may be, but the woman wasn't outright rejecting it. That showed flexibility, something of an open mind.

"Those closest to me have dedicated themselves and their talents to research, healing, and the protection of those who have found themselves here. That is not to say that there are none with less honorable intentions, of course. But I need not tell you that power of any sort may be abused, I am sure."

"Of course, practicality serves almost everywhere. You cannot be Queen of my England and not have some of it. I call it the only useful virtue." Elizabeth laughed dryly, shaking her head at it.

"Power corrupts almost everyone, including myself. But if it is used for good, then I have no fault with it. I suppose it is like almost everything." She's taking it well... because she wasn't thinking of it so much as magic but as a tool to be used, and she had honestly done worse.

"We will have little reason to quarrel, then."

She paused and canted her head to the side. "We have shared titles, but we have yet to exchange names. I am called Galadriel."

"I'm glad for that." She didn't know how she'd feel fighting one with her own face. Not just that she could not fight herself by any means.

"Galadriel, I've not heard such a name before... but I am Elizabeth Tudor."

It would have been fitting, in a way. Galadriel had been fighting herself for much of her life, though that was taking the expression touch too literally for her tastes.

"I imagine you would not have; it is Sindarin in origin." And she smiled in a way that showed she knew very well Elizabeth would not have heard of that either.

"But you are well met, regardless."

... They really had too much in common, which Elizabeth would be appropriately horrified and intrigued by at some later point.

"... Well, that certainly explains it. I cannot say my name is uncommon, it is the name of both my grandmothers, and an aunt, and three of my ladies bear the same name." She snorts, they were an uncreative bunch. "Thank-you my lady, I am sure I would appreciate such a kind welcome should I be slightly... in a better mood." The diplomacy is an easy fall back, and comfortable for how... outlandish this all was. The conversation was a polite distraction, but only minimally. Familiar only in that soft spoken and overly polite way courtiers spoke. "I do not suppose how hospitality is given in this hall. Does this castle like to make its captives comfortable?" Was that dry sarcasm? No never.

"Of course. It is easier to contain a bird when it does not beat its wings against the cage, is it not?" And that certainly wasn't an equally dry quip. Not at all.

"You will find you have quarters here already. Whether the castle does not realize that this is unsettling or whether it finds it more amusing to be so, I will leave to your judgement."

She pauses and casts a significant glance at Elizabeth's armor.

"But I first I would offer some hospitality of my own- a glass of wine and the opportunity to remove your armor, perhaps. You cannot desire to wander the halls seeking your own rooms as you are."

"Of course, it's a trap I've used enough times myself. Perhaps I should commend whoever has decided thus." Oh, she likes this. It was seldom she met powerful women who were half so sharp.

"It cannot be more unsettling then it is, I feared kidnapping intially to start with, this is thankfully better then the kind I had in mind. It at least, is not another war." she shrugs, or attempts to -- difficult in so much armour. Which given the lady's glance, Elizabeth looks down at herself.

"I have not been fond of it the last three days either, but if I am not wearing it, it will have to be carried and will be a burden either way. That and, well, it is improper enough that I am wearing it, worse if I were just in my clothes underneath." Which was thin at best, and she'd be even more uncomfortable in that. "So perhaps when my room is found, I can remove it and take your generous offer of wine? Because I must admit in my humble opinion of this moment such a thing sounds glorious."

"Three days?" Oh, you poor soul. There is a reason she is glad Celeborn is usually the one to take on military matters- the public appearances, at least.

"You have well earned your wine, it seems. Whatever you would put you most at ease, of course. That is my only design."

"War is not kind to any more -- or woman who must be King and Queen. Such is my lot." She squares her shoulders, pride making her so stiff.

"I like to think I have. Perhaps when I find this room of mine, then I shall take wine." But she does pause to take her gauntlets off. They made her hands look small really, and slides her ring on her hand again.

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