001 👑 Salve Regina

[forthecrown]

WHO: Elizabeth Windsor
WHERE: Fountain; Inn; garden behind the Inn
WHEN: 6 April - 8 April
OPEN TO: All
WARNINGS: None
STATUS: Yes

---

Domine salvum fac reginam

Elizabeth had arrived late in the afternoon on a day that wasn't terribly auspicious in any way at all. Given that her life of late had been more unsettled and undone than she'd like, she'd rather enjoyed that this was a day where she could settle in and have tea with her family and not have to concern herself with the nonsense going on outside her own four walls but, apparently, that was not meant to be. Having politely excused herself from tea with her mother and sister to go and see about her children (who were supposed to be having naps and were likely not, as the case usually went), she had not expected to find herself sputtering and flailing in a murky pool of water.

Her natural inclination was to shout, call for help, and that simply caused more water to sink down her throat and into her lungs causing them to burn. She'd learned to swim as a girl - first in small ponds and then, later, in the freezing waters of the oceans off Scotland. She could do this. Once she had her head about herself she pushed herself upward where it seemed there was light and gripped at the stone edges of this strange pool.

She coughed and sputtered, coughing up the water she'd swallowed, and pushed the mop of her wet hair off her brow in order to get her bearings. She didn't recognize the place. It certainly wasn't the palace or any of the associated gardens, places she'd known most of her young life, and the sun was brilliant and bright, almost warm against her skin.

"I don't think this is England," she said, half a whisper. A knapsack floated up beside her and without a second thought, Elizabeth plucked it out of the water. She had no idea what was in it but it could prove useful later and she was nothing if not practical.

et exaudi nos in die qua invocaverimus te.

After having made her way away from the fountain park and the fountain, Elizabeth eventually found her way along a road to an Inn. It was a simple place, to be certain, and was not in possession of a telephone or any electricity. It was all right. She'd done without before and had lived under heavy rationing during the wartime years so this would simply be another time of austerity. She wasn't too good for that. Unlike her sister, she had never really developed a craving for the finer things and while they were nice, they weren't the things that were necessary. She could be content with very little, so long as her family was taken care of and her people were all right.

The thought of her family, her children - it pained her every moment that she was away from them and she had to actively push it down and remind herself that even in her absence, they would want for nothing. They were children of a sitting sovereign, after all, and her son would ascend to king if the worst were to happen.

The only way to avoid that particular sort of brooding was to keep herself busy and so she had. She'd changed into dry clothing upon arriving at the Inn and set herself to any task that was asked of her - she'd lit fires, fed fires, helped prepare the morning and evening meals. She had dressed a chicken and set it to boil in a large pot on a wood-burning range and felt, for all the world, like she'd done something when she finally sank down in a chair before the fire and let out a little sigh of exhaustion.

Perhaps if she simply worked herself to the bone each and every day she wouldn't have the time to dwell upon her unique situation.

et nunc et semper et in saecula saeculorum.

Elizabeth had taken herself out into the garden early and while she had no hat to shield her face from the sun, she still wanted to work and contribute to the collective effort. It was no mean task, to weed a garden, and while she occasionally liked to work with flowers or things of that nature this was no flower garden. This was a tidy and well tended vegetable garden full of edibles and this garden was part of the effort to keep the villagers in a healthy diet. There were no markets here, after all, and the only things they had were the ones they caught from the river, gathered from the woods or grew with their own hands.

It was a stark difference from her own life, a life that was sheltered and full of comforts even during wartime. She had always had the option of fleeing to Canada, after all, and that luxury hadn't been afforded to many. Her family hadn't availed themselves of it, her father being a frugal and practical sort such as herself, but it had been there. They'd actively made a choice. Here, there weren't many choices to make. From her understanding, one worked and one ate and eked out a survivalist existence in hopes that some sort of disaster didn't cause one to start over again.

As she knelt in the garden, pulling weeds by hand to keep them from choking out the tender shoots of the edible things growing along side them, sweat beaded her brow and her palms ached from blisters. She'd ridden horses, yes, but she was no woman to work with her hands on a daily and consistent basis. Until she built up proper calluses, it would continue to pain her. Well, unless she could get her hands on a pair of proper gardening gloves.

Elizabeth straightened a bit, flexing her right palm and wondered if this was one of those situations where her hand might get stuck a certain way if she overworked it. She'd been through that nonsense in Australia and wasn't looking for a repeat of the situation.

"Perhaps I should simply take a quick break from all this and come back, yes?"

Comments

Domine salvum fac reginam

[yorkist]

"For a surety, I can say that it most certainly is not." It is eerie, to be back here. She has avoided the fountain park since her own arrival a mere handful of days past. Ever since, she has been hard at work, either tidying what she has decided to make her home or in cooking meals at the inn. It just so happens that she had been exiting that selfsame establishment when the sight of a woman's head peeking over the roughened stone of the fountain had drawn her.

Now, she offers her hand without thought, sorry that she has no coat or cloak to offer the woman for warmth. Perhaps, as it had been for her, the presence of a countrywoman might be a comfort.

Though her appearance reminds her much of Peggy, which mans this woman must be from her future. This could be a mind-boggling conversation for them both.

"Here, come with me. There is in inn down the path, and we can speak more once we have you seated before a fire."

It continues to be somewhat chilly outdoors. This woman will catch her death should they dawdle.

[forthecrown]

The woman was kind and, furthermore, she sounded like she too was from England. Elizabeth couldn't quite pinpoint the accent but possibly she wasn't so far-flung if she thought if someone was speaking with her with the crisp tones of her own country.

"Your help is much appreciated," she said, giving her a tight smile. "I fear that I've found myself in a place that I don't recognize at all."

[yorkist]

Likewise, she has not been able to place this woman's accent. In the grand scheme of things, it matters not. This is one of her people, and it is the duty of her family to see to their safety and well-being. A duty in which they have not always succeeded. Though she is a woman, she is the only living living member of her House here so far as she is aware.

Thus, the smile is returned with one which bears the appearance of ease on her part, as she continues to offer forth her hand.

"Anything for a fellow countrywoman, lady. I cannot say where we are, either. But know that you are not alone."

And once she has helped her to her feet, she sets off slowly. "This way."

[forthecrown]

"I suppose I ought to have given a name. In my defense, I don't find myself often drowning in a fountain," Elizabeth said, hoping to cover this obvious oversight with a bit of humor. She followed along behind the younger woman, grateful for the assistance.

"I am Elizabeth," she said, uncertain if she should offer anything additional. As monarch, she rarely used a surname and in the rare cases that she did, it was Windsor, the name of her house.

"Elizabeth of...the House of Windsor, actually."

et exaudi nos in die qua invocaverimus te.

[withoutahammer]

Neil had walked past the new arrival a few times without getting a good look at her face- it wasn't until she was seated that he had a chance to see her features plainly. Features he'd seen before, in pictures, in news clips- he'd been trained to recognize people he'd seen before. And he knew a member of the royal family when he saw one.

He stopped by her table, clearing his throat slightly, pitching his voice low. "Beg your pardon, your highness. I didn't know that you were... here."

[forthecrown]

Elizabeth gave him a bit of a stern look for a moment before remembering herself and softening her features a bit. It would not do to alienate one of her subjects, after all, even if they were exiles in this strange land. She sighed a bit.

"Do try to keep it to yourself?" she said, keeping her voice pitched as low as his. "I would rather it not be found out. I have so few opportunities to be one of the common folk. I want a chance to simply...be without the burden of the crown. I don't want anyone to treat me differently because of my status."

[withoutahammer]

Well, if she was inviting him to treat her as one of the common folk, he would take the opportunity to sit down across from her and rest his elbows on his knees in a casual fashion. His eyebrows were slightly raised as he examined her- older than when he'd last seen her pictured, but still recognizable to any red-blooded English citizen. "Right. I should be able to manage that, ma'am, at least to an extent. We may be at a distance from the fighting, but as far as I'm concerned we're still at war. Keeping things under wraps should help keep you safe."

And making sure that she was safe was going to be a priority, however she felt about it. He knew what she meant to the people back home, and he'd make sure she got back to them.

[forthecrown]

"Well, I believe we've come to an agreement, of sorts. Now, I find myself at a disadvantage because while you obviously know what my name is, I have no idea what yours is."

Elizabeth smiled a bit, a little more at ease with his presence now that she was relatively certain he'd keep her secret, and she tipped her head a bit in an attempt to engender a spirit of camaraderie.

"And you simply cannot continue to call me ma'am. My name is Elizabeth."

Domine salvum fac reginam

[welshdragon]

Much to his chagrin, the path that Henry took for hunting lead him past the fountain, a place that still held a great deal of dread in him. Nothing had been explained about how they were brought to this world, leaving him to suspect and conclude that it was magic of some sort. Regardless of the answer, he would have prepared to avoid the fountain all together, at least until he found his footing.

He had never expected to see someone emerge from the water as he had before. Upon seeing the woman, Henry quickly removed the flimsy doublet (jacket? Was that was it was called?) and offered it out to her. While the weather was warm, indicating that spring was coming, she still risked growing sick from the exposure to the cold.

He blinked in surprise at the mention of England. "No, I am afraid we are far from England." He waited so long to return home and only when it was in his grasp, he was ripped away. "There is a place where you may get warm, my lady. There is an inn not far from here."

[forthecrown]

Elizabeth wasn't the sort of person to admit defeat, least of all to someone she did not know but she could not help but be pleased that she'd been offered the jacket. It helped to stave off the chill that threatened since she'd managed to get herself thoroughly drenched in the fountain and she wrapped the woolen jacket around herself tightly.

"Thank you very much. If this isn't England, then, do you know precisely where we are? I'd rather like to get back to my home if I can without much incident."

[welshdragon]

"I only wish I could help. I am lost as well." A frown crossed his features as he looked up at the trees around them. His distaste plain and would likely remain so, no matter how long he was here. "If there is a means, I should use it as well. I need to return."

The country was on the brink of chaos with Richard's death. He couldn't abandon the people that he was no responsible for through action.

"There are many in the village who might better answers than I, but I don't know if they know anything truly substantial."

[forthecrown]

"The blind leading the blind then, I'm afraid. Still, I would take your assistance in getting somewhere warm and dry. It feels like spring here, at least, but I don't think it's so warm yet that I can be walking about in wet clothing and not catch a chill," Elizabeth said.

He seemed a gallant sort, at least, and as reluctant as she was to accept help from someone she did not know it seemed this was her only option.

2

[king_in_the_north]

That Robb still had no proper weapons or tools of his own was still a bit of a wrench. Everyday he passed the blacksmith's hut, no blacksmith to run it and no supplies beside. There was no fletcher but his own two hands, and while he wasn't terrible at arrow-craft, they never turned out as nicely as he wanted and often performed poorly. He knew he ought to be grateful for the cache of weapons he could borrow from daily, and he was, but it was always a bit difficult to give them back.

He had just descended the stairs from doing that very thing, his head full of competing thoughts -- Had he done enough today? Would his father be disappointed? Would difficult questions be asked over the evening meal? -- when he spied the young woman sprawled in a chair.

"That," he remarked as he stepped closer with a soft chuckle, "is precisely what I'd like to be doing right now."

Just sitting, and not thinking about damned thing.

Re: 2

[forthecrown]

Elizabeth bolted upward when she'd been caught at leisure and regarded the young man who'd come down the stairs. He was closer to her sister's age, she thought, than her own but she couldn't be certain. She cleared her throat a bit.

"I hadn't intended to sit down for quite so long. I just needed to get off my feet for a few moments."

[king_in_the_north]

"I don't think anyone could blame you for that," Robb replied with a soft laugh. "Particularly if you've been working so hard as that."

He'd not tell her that she looked it, even if it was true; she honestly wasn't that untidy, but she did have the air of certain women he'd known who were loathe to look anything other than impeccable. Sansa had been that way once.

"We've not met," he continued, stepping forward. "I'm Robb Stark."

[forthecrown]

"Elizabeth," she offered in kind. Stark wasn't a surname that she knew but, then again, she'd been in this place just long enough to know that people were plucked from all eras and countries on earth. Just because Stark wasn't a name she knew in the England of her era didn't mean that he wasn't still from England; he certainly had the sound of it. Northern England, though, or perhaps Scotland.

"Whereabouts are you from? I detect a bit of Scots if my ears don't deceive me," she said, giving him a little smile. "And my family has holdings in the Highlands, we try to get to Scotland as often as we can."

garden

[womanofvalue]

At first, Peggy thought that perhaps she had been going mad. She had been walking through the garden in order to check on the seedlings she had given to the communal cause when she had seen a face that she's more accustomed to seeing on news reels during the propaganda films they'd shown to keep the spirits up, during the war. Days ago, she had met a Queen from the past, but it seems that now she's going to meet a Princess, one that's been in her attention her whole life.

It's enough to have her slightly speechless.

Then, the woman was speaking and there was little doubt in Peggy's mind precisely who this was. She'd heard that voice on the radio and in the films, which meant that she was encountering someone who ought to be in a palace, not a garden. "Are you sure you should be doing that at all?" she finds herself asking, the words slipping out before she can stop herself.

[forthecrown]

"Well, it needs to be done and I have two hands," Elizabeth said, looking up to see a woman of similar stature, similar coloring and, strangely, similar accent to her own. How nice, a fellow countrywoman. Still, was this going to be like Neil and be someone that would know her as she was? Elizabeth couldn't be certain.

"I don't think I'll die if my hands get a bit dirty. Do you?"

[womanofvalue]

"No, no, it's not that, it's..." Peggy stammers and trails off. It's not even that it's the Princess getting her hands dirty, because she's heard stories and accounts of how she'd never minded in her unit, but that had been at home in the war, surrounded by hundreds and thousands of others. Here, in a village, this is far more private and intimate. What she wonders, as well, is what this means for home.

"I'm so sorry, this is terribly embarrassing for me," Peggy says, choosing to be blunt and honest. "I know you. I've seen you in the dailies," she explains. "In the papers, of course, and in photos."

et nunc et semper et in saecula saeculorum.

[mund]

"Unless you prefer your hands to ache for the next few days."

Graves responds simply, hands in the pockets of his coat. It doesn't take a detective to know that this is a woman unused to physical labor; her face is unfamiliar -- Graves likes to think that he at least has most of the villagers' faces catalogued, whether in passing or otherwise, and hers does not register.

The day is fine out, a far cry from the events the past few weeks, and Graves had meandered from his route to the neatly kept vegetable patch to acquaint himself with the goings-on of the village, curiosity and deep-seated wariness demanding regular investigation. Now, it seems, his attention is caught on the anomaly of a woman unused to outdoor physical labor deciding to apply herself to work like this.

"It's not something you've ever done, is it?"

[forthecrown]

"Not without gloves, no," Elizabeth readily admitted. She looked up a bit and took stock of the man standing above her, tried to memorize his features and face. She'd seen several new faces over the past several days and keeping them all straight was becoming a bit of a challenge.

"I figured now would be as good a time as any to start learning how to properly weed a vegetable garden, though, since I seem to have an abundance of free time on my hands and no way to spend it."

[mund]

It does taking some getting used to, to be honest. He nods, stepping inside and crouching before her to help. He's picked up a few tricks here and there -- and while Graves has never been the type to do something as mundane as farming, he understands the value of learning to adapt.

"The trick is to go for the roots." He explains. "Spade, please."

Domine salvum fac reginam

[goldsteins]

"You'd think right," the woman who had been passing when the sounds of splashing in the fountain had halted her. It's one of the first she's seen since her own arrival and she can't just walk away from her. Turning slightly she reached over to offer the woman a hand in pulling her out.

"It's no New York, either," She adds, "or any other place anyone seems to know." Save the people that had been here a while, but even those didn't have this place to call one they know. She offers an apologetic look, however and glances to the bag the woman had plucked him.

"That'll have more clothes for you in it."

[forthecrown]

It wasn't strange to be offered a hand out and honestly, that was the most normal thing Elizabeth had encountered since her head broke through the waters of that fountain moments before. She gripped the woman's hand and got out, trying to get her bearings. Not England, not New York - not any place that anyone would know? How was that even possible?

At the woman's instruction, she peered into the bag and saw clothing that matched what she was currently wearing. Hmm. Serviceable, at least, if not fashionable.

"Thank you. I normally wouldn't ever meet someone while looking so out of sorts but I suppose the circumstances simply cannot be helped, can they?"

[goldsteins]

Tina waited long enough for the other woman to settle on her feet before pulling her hand away. Her features smoothed over as she waited for her to speak again. Welcoming committee she's not much of, but she's going to do what she can by nature. Tucking some hair away she snorted a laugh in response to her question.

"Don't worry, you're not the first and you won't be the last. Everyone arrives that way, it was my turn about a week ago." She flicked her eyes away and offered to point with her hand. "I think most people's first stop is the Inn. It'll warm you up at least."