Alistair Clifford

Thankfully, some groomsmen had come during the time that the other man was talking, to assist Elizabeth off of her horse and take the mare to be cared for in the stables “Do make sure she gets some kind of treat for a good ride this morning,” she said to one of the groomsmen before turning her attention to the man in front of her, and his horse. Chuckling she made an attempt to touch the horses’ cheek, showing it that she meant him no harm. “Such a handsome steed, I highly doubt that shyness is a correct term to describe him,” she said, making her own thoughts known.

She admired the way that he didn’t care about other people’s opinions, thinking that it was a privilege in itself to have the freedom to speak one’s mind - and one that should have been exercised more frequently to break the cycles of lies within court. “Yes, I daresay it is. Much more enlightening than being lied to for the sake of propriety.”

Poseidon bumped his nose into the woman’s hand, making Alistair chuckle. His horse had always been as easy-going as the man himself, when he wasn’t in one of his awful tempers. But those tempers were only ever taken out on men who provoked him, never a woman. “You don’t think he’s shy? All because he’s a humble handsome fellow, just like myself? Are you calling me a liar, my lady?” He grinned over his shoulder at her, settling the saddle aside. “I’m beyond offended at your implication. I’ll have you know I’m an honest man - oh wait, no, I’m not. I’m unmarried. Haven’t found the right woman to make an honest man out of me yet.” But as Earl, that was something he’d have to consider now. Damn it. There were so many things to deal with. 

“Lies should only be told to spare the feelings of someone you care about, or to annoy someone you don’t.” Alistair lied, there was no point lying by saying he didn’t, but he did live honestly. And when he lied, it was usually done as a joke, so obvious that a blind man could see it. “As for propriety, I’ve never really been what you’d call a proper gentleman. Much to my disappointment, I try ever so hard.” 

    The comment had been something she made offhand, not intending just to insult a lesser title, but merely elevate the seriousness of importance of this wedding.  Her nephew was not only choosing a bride, but he was choosing a legacy for England.  He was choosing the mother of his children, the Queen to support his rule and win the hearts of the English people.  She knew the many burdens of a queen and what was required to succeed in such duties.  The difference in their religions surely rose as one of the biggest issues in their union, and Margaret could tell which men from her brother’s old court helped craft such a controversy.  She would try to her best to counter their influence and support Christina out of genuine kinship rather than a power grab.

    Speaking of the men in court, she found the looming figure was indeed one of the courtiers and not the baker.  One of Meg’s acquaintances, if she remembered correctly, the Earl of Cumberland.  She imagined he was eagerly awaiting the wedding, as with the other nobles.  “No, thank you.  They will bring the cakes on time,” she would be sure of it herself.  “But now that you’ve made your appearance, my lord, I could use an extra pair of eyes to judge the proposed seating charts,” she gestured towards a table to his right where the artist left a sketch with names lightly penciled on chairs.  “Where would you prefer to sit?”

The politics and religions behind the engagement, they did not hold much importance to Alistair. He was only ever as political as he had to be, preferring to avoid such things if he could. No doubt it was why he was not more prominent in court, despite his fierce loyalty and hard work in the years he’d been there. He would always accept the decisions made by better man than him, and just do what he could with the orders he was given as a knight. 

“They wouldn’t dare to be late.” That was for certain. Anything that marred the wedding was going to be seen as a bad omen, and while people might whisper about the appropriateness of the marriage, no one would dare insult the King. “Ahh... I am not certain I am the best judge.” He walked over to the table that she indicated all the same. “Mm, might be better to separate myself and these two.” Picking up the pencil, he glanced over at her. “Do you mind if I make a quick edit? We have a poor tendency to goad each other, which makes for an entertaining night, but that may not be the best idea.” 

“I am afraid there never will be any honesty in court. The courtiers tend to cut it down at the root, before it even has an opportunity to bloom. I find that revelation sad.” She replied with a soft sigh. “I have not been hunting in a long while, not since I have parted ways with my elder brother. Perhaps when he arrives, I will hunt with him again.” Yes, it has been some good months since she rode out to aid in killing a hopeless animal. Men were odd, and their means of entertainment sometimes cruel, but at least her brother never was cruel; no, all of their kills were well used afterwards.

“In my honest opinion, I think it is too warm sometimes. I like the chillier weather, but not humidity. It is an awful thing, especially during summer, when it enhances the heat.” She commented, walking beside the tall man. It was a good thing; a walk. Perfect for stretching her, stiff from sitting idly, legs. At his words, she chuckled in return. “I would like to, but I doubt it would make my father proud. My mother, even less.” Her chuckle ebbed, as she nodded attentively. “And how did you like other countries? I have ever only been in Italy, once. Florence, to be more precise, and I was positively charmed by its beauty. People are a lot more relaxed there, than they are in both Spain and England.” After a moment’s pause, the princess asked. “Where would you like to go next, if you do not mind my asking’”

“If you wish to hear honest words spoken in court, speak them yourself, as you do now.” Alistair had long given up on despairing of the cruel nature of the court. Instead, he held himself with pride through it all. “I cannot promise I can always be honest back, but I can promise you that I enjoy honesty, and I do try to live honestly. Lies are a tangle that just waste everyone’s time, so I try to only lie when I’m trying to waste someone’s time.” He turned everything into a joke, and this was no difference. What had started as a sincere promise had turned into a half laughed comment. Always at himself, never at her. No one could laugh at him if he was already laughing, instead they’d be laughing with him. “You must miss your brother.” He tried to sound casual, but there was a weight to his words nonetheless, thinking of Arthur. Not that his brother was ever far from his mind. 

“You are quite right, the humidity can be terrible.” It always baffled him, when he thought about it, the unfairness. A man who could defend himself was considered a strong man, but when a woman did it, it was a scandal. Of course, even princes had rules to follow that the second son of an Earl could ignore with little consequence. Now that he was an Earl, he was supposed to swallow his temper more. Not that he did a very good job at it. “I like punching people, if you ever need someone to do it, give me a signal, and I’ll happily oblige. Then your parents cannot blame you.” It was not a completely serious offer, of course, but he had been known to pick fights for less valid reasons. 

“I’m rather fond of other countries. I was working while abroad, so I did not get to see as much as I’d like, but I carved out some time for myself. It’s rather intriguing, seeing how other countries differ, and you cannot truly understand a culture until you have walked amongst the common people.” He gave thought to her question, before deciding. “The islands that the Spanish lay claim to. I hear the waters are so clear there, you can see all the way to the bottom, bright coloured fish darting past. I think in a past life, I’d have liked to be a privateer, sailing the open seas.” He glanced over at her. “And where would you go, if you could go anywhere and do anything? Nothing to stand in your way?” 

Alistair has settled into life as the Earl these past two years. While he still misses his brother every day, he has buried his grief in his duty. Cumberland remains strong, and he is still an honoured member of the Order of the Garter. 

That first year back at court, he did get into a few too many fights, with the established members at court noting that he seemed to be falling into old habits once more. 

However, despite his charming words, he has not been romantically linked in public to anyone, until now. 

Knowing that it was expected of him, he’s arranged a betrothal to a woman he gets along with that comes from a respectable family. This is a wanted connection. 

         something about how he held himself— his air of irreverence, his callousness, irked her. anger slowly began to creep back into her countenance, frustration encouraging its advance. she let his hands fall from hers.

         instead of giving him more words that he would tease and make light of, she smacked him lightly— on his shoulder, and not enough to move him, but actions spoke louder than words. “forget them— i’m fond of you, you fool.” she couldn’t think of what to say next, instead waiting on alistair to make up his mind: whether he would be sincere, or turn another phrase into something useless, flighty. phillipa was not created with eloquence or wit on her tongue, but strength and spite rested there instead. she shrugged, a little helplessness mixed in with her irreverence. “well— then you must do your brother proud.”

While he didn’t mind annoying people - in fact, it was a favourite activity of his - he hadn’t actually intended to frustrate Phillipa. This time, that is. When she punched his shoulder, he smiled, knowing that she could have hit him a lot harder. And in the face. And he wouldn’t have blamed her. He gathered her hand in his again. “I am fond of you too.” He meant it. Alistair might be a glib man, but his friends were people he held close to his heart, even if he didn’t know how to say that. 

Grief flickered in his eyes once more. “I shall certainly try.” His voice was soft for a moment, unsure if he could ever live up to Arthur, but then he shook his head as if to dismiss the thought. In a stronger voice, he spoke again. “Otherwise, he will smack me over the back of my head in the next life.” 

    Her fingers reached out tentatively to stroke her fingers down the horse’s nose, “ They do have a penchant for apples. I would give them all the carrots and apples in the world if it would make them happy. I have always loved horses, ever since I was a little girl, ” Kitty declared passionately, looking at the animal in the eyes. After a moment she turned back to the gentleman with a bright smile, “ Well I am sure they have missed you. Although, I have found in my short time here that it can be a fickle place. But one tries not to linger on such thoughts, and it’s easy to cheer oneself up. ” She did not recognise the gentleman, but that was hardly surprising. The young woman had barely found her feet at court so she would not be familiar with any old faces. “ Begging your pardon, I ought to introduce myself. I’m Catherine, Catherine Howard. Most people call me Kitty, and by most I mean my siblings. But I like it well enough and there really are a lot of Catherines around. ”

Poseidon butted his head into the woman’s hand, making Alistair chuckle. The horse was as good-natured as the owner could sometimes be. “I swear, he sometimes thinks he’s more a dog than anything else. He loves to be petted.” He offered a smile in return for her bright one. Either she was very good at lying, or she was still naive in many ways to what court was like. Such bright smiles were not often directed at others in court, not without reason. “I certainly don’t wish you to linger on thoughts that you don’t like. I’ll make myself known easily enough, even if they’ve forgotten me, so don’t you worry.” He bowed when she introduced herself. “Alistair Clifford. I believe I must be acquainted with some of your family.” Norfolk and Cumberland were allies, even if he didn’t think much of the Duke of Norfolk. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Kitty. I’m afraid I have no other name, not ones to be repeated in front of ladies such as yourself, but fortunately, there aren’t so many Alistairs.” 

Elizabeth had been at court for some time now, and as much as she enjoyed keeping her expressions stoic around the people there, one place that she allowed herself to feel freely happy was when she was able to roam the castle grounds on horseback. Gently directing her horse to a halt, she raised her eyebrow in response to his question that he’d directed towards his horse. “Perhaps you’d like to direct your question at someone who can give you a worded answer,” she said, remaining seated on her own horse as she looked down on him.

“Is there someone in particular in the castle whom you were hoping to be missed by in your absence?”

Alistair lifted his hands in a careless gesture, since he often talked to his horse. The only person he’d ever been able to talk freely to was his brother, but now he had no choice. He had to trust his horse or dogs. “Perhaps I would. Poseidon feels shy around pretty ladies.” Starting to lift the saddle off, believing he should always take care of his own, he continued to talk to the woman. “Ah, no one in particular. I have a few old friends, but I’m certain they’ll say they have enjoyed the peace and quiet in my absence.” He lifted his shoulders in a shrug, unbothered by what people thought of him, but he did like to be thought of. “I suppose I was talking generally. It’s nice to know that people think of you, isn’t it?” 

Maria offered the Earl a friendly smile. “It is a pleasure to meet you, my lord.” Her voice was soft as she spoke, walking close, but still politely far apart from the lord. “If I may speak honestly, I am quite bored. The architecture is splendid, and I have spent the majority of my time here, since my arrival, exploring the castle and the grounds… But, that is it. On the bonus side, at least the weather is pleasant, if not a little humid.” She honestly replied - why lie? Even if he were the King himself, she would speak plainly.

His question brought a soft frown. “Well, I was born and raised in Spain. The weather is different, with mild winters and warm summers. Austria is a little more harsh in both seasons, which I prefer, at least the colder aspects of it. When it comes to courtiers, it is all the same wherever you are. They smile to your face and wait for an opportunity to trip your feet.” She added the latter with an exasperated sigh. “And how do you like England? Have you ever left it?”

A light chuckle fell from his lips. “Please, always speak honestly. There is never enough honesty in court.” While he could lie and wheedle with the best of them, his style had always alternated between blunt honesty or heavy sarcasm, always smoothed over with charm. “It can be boring, can’t it?” He took no offence from her words. “There is good hunting to be had, if you enjoy that.” Alistair always thought it unfair that women were discouraged from seeking more exciting pastimes that men were allowed to, and he’d been known to encourage women to find their own interests, but this was a princess, and he was not the man he’d been before. He had to be more careful now. 

“Ah, I have been to Spain. Charming place, but I suppose, I have always favoured the warmer sun.” Her description of court was an accurate one, although no one had ever managed to trip him. All the whispers and criticisms that had once been shared were all well deserved. He had always been exactly what he seemed to be. “You should smile back and punch them in the face.” The advice was offered carelessly, as he’d always been too quick to fight. Travel was something he did enjoy, so he smiled. “I like England well enough, I’m glad to say. But along with Spain, I have been to France, Italy, and Africa. I hope to do more travelling in life, I like to see what else is out there in the world.” He winked at her. “Far less boring than here.” 

Meg always liked, no needed, to be where the action was. Whether a fight was based in truth or based in sport, it was just the kind of spectacle she enjoyed watching. The sound created by the impact of the swords echoed through the air and Meg found herself following it until she found its source. Imagine her surprise when she saw a familiar face on one end of the sparring, a face that had not been seen at court for quite some time. His reaction to her presence earned him an appreciative smile in response. “Who is to say I am not one already?” Meg was never one who could be called humble. “Court has missed you, my lord. I am glad to you see have returned.”

Alistair never saw any reason for a woman not to be proud of how she looked. If society was going to say that a woman’s only skill was her looks (a belief he had never held but was more than happy to appreciate the benefits of), than why should they criticise the women for being so beautiful? It was hypocrisy, but then, court was full of it. “You have already done the impossible and killed me, so I shall not be the one to say such a thing.” She was probably one of the few who could say she was glad to see him and mean it. He’d always divided court when it came to his popularity. He was either loved or hated. “And I have missed you. My return feels complete now that I see you again.” 

         she saw the smile on his face, how it changed and gathered tarnish as quickly as she could blink. earl of cumberland echoed through her skull, resonant and dreadful in its implication. phillipa’s anger soured in the pit of her stomach. phillipa took alistair’s hand and shook her head, now looking regretful.

         “i understand,” she said simply. it was what she had done, too, after the death of her own husband, her beloved. she had chased grief away where she could not run from it, and run from it she had. germany, italy, bohemia, france, amsterdam. all of them had distracted her well enough, for a time, before she was recalled to england for her mother’s funeral.

         “i understand, alistair, i do. i promise,” she said in earnest. she squeezed the hand she held. “but why couldn’t you have sent word? to someone else, at least one person, if not to all of us?”

Pity was something he didn’t know how to handle. Anything that was beyond the surface, he had always buried deep, living in the moment. Arthur had been the more sincere of the two, and Alistair didn’t know how to live like that. A light squeeze of her hand was the best he could do. She had faced grief, he knew that, but he still couldn’t make himself say just how much he missed his brother. 

Instead, he joked. “You mean to say that the old gossipy ladies had nothing to say about me? I’m truly hurt. I thought they were fond of me.” 

While it had been a secret at first, when Arthur was simply injured and not dying, that had been to stop the family from being perceived as weak. Such a thing in court would always be turned against them, he knew that. But he was surprised that word hadn’t eventually made its way here after Arthur’s funeral. A twinge of bitterness filled him. Had Arthur really meant so little that his death was unimportant? 

A smile tugged at the corner of her mouth as she looked at him, intrigued by the man in front of her, although she was nearly always curious about some people  in one way or another. “Perhaps you will be,” she Countess replied to him before he turned her attention to his horse, giving his nose a gentle stroke. “Tell me; this charm of yours… does it ever get you in trouble?” she asked before turning her head to look at him again.

Poseidon blew softly out his nose as the woman stroked his nose, Alistair rolling his eyes affectionately. Of course his horse liked a pretty face about as much as he did. “Charm? What charm?” He joked with a laugh before leaning forward to whisper conspiratorially. “I’m always in trouble.” That had been true when he was at court last. Between his charm and his temper, he’d built a reputation for himself, one as a reckless rogue. He’d liked it. 

Maria has noticed the spark of anger in the man’s eyes, and she noticed the calming breaths, and for a moment she wondered what it was that could put him through such a mood. But, then she remembered this was the English court. It was hardly the most relaxing place on the Earth. In fact, thinking about it now, she wondered how are people not in an even worse mood, at times. Still, it was not on her to notice such things, so she plastered a polite, even a little warm, smile on her face ,and pretended to be none the wiser.

“Excellent, thank you.” She politely thanked him, raising from the bench, and taking a few small steps towards him. “I believe introductions are in order. I am Maria, of Austria.” She curtsied to the man.

Since she was of a much higher status than him, he bowed once more. “It is no hardship on my part, your highness.” He was comfortable enough with royalty that his behaviour was natural for him. “I am Alistair, Kn- Earl of Cumberland.” It was still instinct, even a year later, to use his first title, rather than the one that was actually more important. 

“How do you find it here, thus far?” He asked, although he knew she’d likely give a polite answer no matter how she really felt. That was the game of court, a game he usually played much better, but with anger still simmering under the surface, he wasn’t as smooth as he normally would be. He adjusted his pace for her as he walked, reminding himself not to use his long legs to stride forward. These days, he found himself walking as though he were a man on a mission, but he could be relaxed when he chose to be. He could try. “I’m afraid I’ve never been to Austria. How does it differ from here?” 

                       ––   The atmosphere at court felt different, albeit imperceptibly, upon Georgette’s return. Whether it had been the retreat of the king from the public gaze or the thawing of winter into a tentative springtide, the shift that had taken place at court left the princess and other courtly constituents feeling uneasy. One way to combat such sentiments of unease was to take a brisk walk throughout the gardens – although it was a symptom of her natural curiosity that led her away from the gardens and toward the entrance of court, where mares and stallions were being buckled with supplies for a long journey ahead, and where hopeful, new inductees to court where being presented. Upon spying a man speaking lowly to his treasured beast, Georgette plucked an apple from a passing cart and approached the courtier, “ monsieur, the answer you seek may need some coaxing. May I give this to him? ”

Alistair had yet to decide whether he was glad to be back at court or not. He had always enjoyed in the past, handling the various gossips and intrigues with his usual careless charm. He had a knack for navigating court, which was shown in being chosen as a Knight of the Garter, and he’d held grander ambitions, but even through that, he’d remained true to himself. That, he thought, was the hardest part. Being able to chase ambitions without losing himself in lies. A woman’s voice distracted him from his thoughts, looking over at her with a smile. “Poseidon would be very grateful.” He patted his horse, leading him forward a couple steps so the woman could give him the apple. The brown horse was a friendly one, never fazed by anything, so he didn’t worry that he could bite or anything. “It’s very gracious of you, my lady. Since he cannot thank you, I will.”