Coronation Party [Open]

[commandsthewind]

Who: Elizabeth Tudor, Arthur Pendragon and you!
What: Coronation Party Times!
When: 17th of November, evening. backdated shhh~
Where: The Ballroom.
Rating: PG.

[The ballroom has been briefly transformed, or something like that. At least enough to Elizabeth's tastes and she had no issue at all using the ghosts if it got her what she wanted, in red and gold. A table of food and drink has been set up on one side of the room, wine aplenty of course, and in the middle of the table is the cake made by Ino. There's tables and chairs around the room, and the doors are open to the balcony, so guests can go out there for air as well. Somewhere softly behind all that, there is music playing. It's a light heart-ed celebration, but that is all that is really wanted.]

[ The Balcony | Tables & Chairs | Other places around the room ]

Comments

[reigne]

[It surprises him a little, the fact that he doesn't immediately feel the urge to straighten up, from where he's rested his elbows on the balcony ledge. Nor does he feel like forcing the practiced smile back onto his face.

She shouldn't make him feel comfortable in his own skin. When he turns to regard her, it's a thoughtful expression he wears, but still solemn]

I have borne the weight of my kingdom for some time. [More honest than he means to be. His father wasn't always well, and even less so in the later years. And if he's being honester still, he'd been feeling the pressure since before he'd even become of age]

[ladywinter]

You carry it well.

[She's seen so many men react to power. There was Robert who drank and ate and whored his way to death. There was Joffery, who seemed determined to strike as many blows as he was able before his time came. Stannis and Renly- brothers meeting in the battlefield. And then there were Ned and Robb, who accepted what they must as duty, rather than as a prize for themselves.

She makes her way to the ledge, letting the cool air blow back her hair.]

Better than some men who have seen twice your years.

[reigne]

...Thank you.

[It's still quiet, solemn, but genuinely appreciative. It isn't that he generally disbelieves his court or men at home, for believing in his abilities or insisting he's great at it...It's that they simply don't understand. And in comparison to a man like this father, who many didn't agree with or hold any great love for...

It's easy to confuse 'different' with 'better'. It feels more honest, coming from her. Even if it's of little comfort]

It is not always an easy weight to carry, but the most important one. I am honoured by your words.

[ladywinter]

[She just nods, equally solemn.]

My lord husband would have had some words for you, I'm sure, as he would have for our son. Something about duty and honor and strength.

[A thin little smile] A woman is a poor source of a Lord's wisdom.