All my possession for a moment of time... [OTA]
As it turned out, everyone grieved differently -- and Elizabeth's preferred method was to just not openly do so, ever. Instead to celebrate her father as she thought he might want, to throw him a party. Invite everyone she knew, even if they didn't know him or her that well. And it was keeping her busy enough, along with preparing her lessons for the school.
Only after watching Robert, watching him grieve, talking to him... she realised she had to face it as well. She'd already done this once, already lost her father once, and enough time had passed the the sting should of worn off. So she decided she'd do what she promised she would -- read. So Elizabeth went to the library, found a history book. Then found a seat as secluded as possible and she did as she said she would. It was easy enough, to read of her Father, knew that at least like the back of her hand. Found it upsetting how harshly they spoke of him, but swallowed it because he had not always been so kind, she supposed. Then further, of her brother and sister.
Eventually though, she reached the history of herself. Got as far as Dudley before a tear hit the page -- glad that they only wrote of love between them, nothing else. She willed herself calm again. Mary, the assassination attempt, the war that followed. Then a man called Essex, the end of her reign. Not being able to stop, she kept reading even as she cried. (Alone, she died alone, everyone dead before her). Not even able to speak before she passed. By the time she finished reading of Cromwell and Charles, the book was slammed shut and pushed off her lap with a thud to the floor, and she followed. Knees curled under her, face hidden in her arms as she cried where they rested on the seat of the chair. Trying to keep herself silent, hidden, despite how she shook all over. No one needed to see this.
The worst of it was, she couldn't stop.
[was going to do this later, but figure I should do it before it became irrelevant. Whoever can find her, it doesn't matter.]
Only after watching Robert, watching him grieve, talking to him... she realised she had to face it as well. She'd already done this once, already lost her father once, and enough time had passed the the sting should of worn off. So she decided she'd do what she promised she would -- read. So Elizabeth went to the library, found a history book. Then found a seat as secluded as possible and she did as she said she would. It was easy enough, to read of her Father, knew that at least like the back of her hand. Found it upsetting how harshly they spoke of him, but swallowed it because he had not always been so kind, she supposed. Then further, of her brother and sister.
Eventually though, she reached the history of herself. Got as far as Dudley before a tear hit the page -- glad that they only wrote of love between them, nothing else. She willed herself calm again. Mary, the assassination attempt, the war that followed. Then a man called Essex, the end of her reign. Not being able to stop, she kept reading even as she cried. (Alone, she died alone, everyone dead before her). Not even able to speak before she passed. By the time she finished reading of Cromwell and Charles, the book was slammed shut and pushed off her lap with a thud to the floor, and she followed. Knees curled under her, face hidden in her arms as she cried where they rested on the seat of the chair. Trying to keep herself silent, hidden, despite how she shook all over. No one needed to see this.
The worst of it was, she couldn't stop.
[was going to do this later, but figure I should do it before it became irrelevant. Whoever can find her, it doesn't matter.]