AAR In The Family - A Cautionary Tale Against Having Eight Children With Your Cousin

[Actinguy]

Hey all! My name is Actinguy. You may remember me from such AARs as "When the Best Laid Plans Go AARwry," "AARs the World Turns, A Grand Campaign," and "We're on a Mission from God, Don't Tell the Pope."

Of course, you may also recognize the title of THIS post, as I've AARed as this family before. It got good reviews...but the game crashed just as the story was getting interesting. I've since learned how to "force" the game to give me certain events, which I'm using to recreate the events which led to the start of my story last time. After that, I will go back to playing the game as normal, so that anything can happen.

Enjoy!

 

[Actinguy]

A Family Affair - January, 1066

The castle was in a festive mood, all but two unaware of how today would end.

Music danced through the air, intertwining with the streamers hung from the ceilings. There was food...oh, was there food...and there was drink.

And, of course, there were gifts.

But if the castle's mood is best described as "festive," then Diego De Leon's was down-right giddy. For today was not only Diego's 33rd birthday.

It was also his only daughter's wedding.

Diego and his wife Christina had worked hard, ensuring that their daughter Jimena had all they could afford, and more. Perhaps they had not always been perfect...Jimena could be a tad difficult to handle, at times, and always seemed to be playing her parents against each other...but they had always done what they thought was right. And today...today was the culmination.

For today was the day that Jimena would marry Donnchad O'Brien.

Donnchad was the son-in-law any man would want. A good man...a military man...a man who seemed to have no faults.

And...not coincidentally...

A man who was second-in-line to be Duke of Munster.

Diego and Christina had crossed the sea...braved that rickety ship...to address the Duke directly. The Duke, an elderly man by anyone's reckoning, had been warm and receptive to the Leon's...until they offered their only daughter for marriage to his eldest son. Then...without so much as a dip of his engaging smile, he swiftly showed them to the door.

It was Christina who saved the day, he supposed. Of course, that's what Christina always did. It was why he had married her in the first place. She knew how to make things happen.

And it didn't hurt that the Duke's wife, Gormlaith, enjoyed a bit of meddling herself.

The two women had gotten together for a bit of woman-talk while Diego had addressed the Duke. So when Duke O'Brien was charmingly throwing Diego out of his castle, Gormlaith interrupted.

"Duke...I wonder...don't you suppose that this Jimena sounds like just the woman who would be right for Donnchad?"

Donnchad wasn't their first choice...they had wanted his older brother, first in line for the throne...but they had never imagined that they would get a second pick. They jumped at the opportunity.

And so, here he was. Making sure everything was just right, for his daughter's wedding to the son of a Duke.

Somehow, he'd managed to get every one of his sons into the reception area without "too" many issues. Rubio, his youngest at ten years old, ran up to Diego and began twirling around before him.

"Father! Father! Look at how handsome I look in my suit!" He twirled again, as his mini-coat tails furled around him.

Fernando, Jimena's 16-year-old twin brother, sat in a corner, saying nothing. Doing nothing. He wished his son would show some sign of life...but compared to a few of his sons, at least Fernando wasn't problematic.

There was a crash from the other side of the room. Diego ran towards the noise, prepared to confront whichever servant had broken one of the dishes...only to find his son Pedro, 12, standing over the pieces of China.

"Pedro? Did you do this?"

"No, father! It...it wath...it wath one of the thervants! That one! Thee's the one who broke the dith!"

Diego knelt by his son. "Pedro...I'm going to ask you again. Did you break this dish?"

"No father! I thwear!"

"You're not in trouble, Pedro. Just tell me the truth. Remember what you're learning in school? About honesty?"

"Yeth, father."

"Now...who broke the dish?"

"...I did. I'm thorry."

Diego put an arm around his son. "There's a good boy. Now, go get a broom. You're going to clean this up."

As Pedro ran off to find a broom, Diego heard a familiar thumping sound.

His second-eldest, Fruela, had arrived.

Fruela was a problem. He wasn't a bad son...but he was an embarrasing son. There was something wrong with his foot...always had been ...and Fruela had been walking with a crutch for the past fourteen years or so. His face was slightly deformed, with a hare lip, and he was frequently sick...the doctors said he had swallowed a worm or some such nonsense (Diego had never been a big believer in medicine), but the reality was that the boy was an embarrassment. He loved Fruela as much as any of the others, but if he had one wish, he would make Fruela less embarrassing.

Now his eldest, Rodrigo, was someone you could be proud of. In fact, he was quite a bit like Donnchad. Clean-cut, responsible, a soldier. Nothing to be ashamed of there. But Rodrigo was not his favorite.

No...it was Bernardo who held that secret place in his heart. And Bernardo, just 14, wasn't just the favorite of Diego...he was also the favorite of the King.

It was, again, his wife Christina who had made it happen. Christina, the King's cousin (and, perhaps now is the time to mention, Diego's second or third cousin, once removed. Diego's great-grandmother's brother was Christina and the King's grandfather.) had recommended they send one of their sons to the King's court as a fosterling, as the King had no children of his own.

Alfonso Jimenez, King of Leon, had quickly taken a liking to the boy. And once he was deemed old enough, the King gave him something Bernard's own father never could.

His own province.

Bernard, not yet old enough to take a liking to women, was already Count of El Bierzo, the next county over. Now THAT was something to be proud of. In fact, Diego was already thinking that, though he himself was not yet 35, it might be time to think about what would happen when he was gone. And he was starting to think maybe it should be Bernard...not Rodrigo...who should take over him when the time came.

But speaking of time...he heard the music change, and knew it was time for him to march his daughter down the aisle. Down the aisle to marry the son of a Duke. Down the aisle, being watched by the King. Down the aisle, with his son, the count, watching on as well.

Today, Diego thought, just might be the proudest day of his life.

The thought lasted about thirty seconds, until his last son, Gutierre, ran up to him before they began to move towards the chapel.

Gutierre was 17, and a bit of a mixed bag. He was fierce on the battlefield, and was showing the beginnings of a strong leader...but he was also fierce "off" the battlefield as well.

"Father...father, there's something I must discuss with you. Immediately."

"I'm about to walk your sister down the aisle. It can wait."

"Sure...it can...




...It can wait about nine months."

 

[Actinguy]

A Reception, Redemption, And Immaculate Conception - Jan 1066

"What?"

"Jimena's maid. She's ill, father. She's...being ill, right now. In the chamber room."

"I'm sure it's just nerves, concerned about her role in Jimena's wedding today. She's never met the King, and now she'll be standing in front of him. I'm sure that's it."

"She says she's with child, father."

Diego turned sharply, stopping Guttiere in his tracks.

"Silence, boy! You speak with the devil's tongue."

"Father..."

"You know Giselda has no husband."

"Father..."

"I suppose you believe an angel brought it to her."

"Father..."

"I tell you, son. It is nothing but nerves."

"Father..."

"What is it, boy?"

"The child..."

"There is no child."

"I think it's mine."


Silence.

The silence could only have lasted a minute, but to Gutierre, it was an eternity.

Finally, Diego nodded.

"Right, then," he started, slowly. "Well...that will have to wait. We have a wedding to get too. And then we will have a serious discussion about this. This man who's marrying your sister and Donnchad...Bishop Alfonso...we'll talk to him about this. But first, Jimena's wedding."

Gutierre exhaled, surprised by his father's calm response.

"And then yours."

"Father! I can't marry her! She's a commoner! I am the son of the Count! Second cousin to the King himself!"

"Then you should have thought of that before. If you weren't too good for her then, you're certainly not too good for her now."

"Father..."

Diego grabbed his son's arm and tightened the grip. "We will discuss this with the Bishop," he growled. "Now, take your seat."
-------------------

The wedding was a beautiful affair...the sort of wedding that women had dreamed about for centuries before...the sort of wedding that women continued to dream about for centuries after.

But it was the reception, you see, that people spoke of for months.

As the reception started, Diego was watching on as Gutierre explained his problem to Bishop Alphonso de la Cueva in a back room.

The Bishop, who was barely older than Gutierre himself, asked just one question.

"Count...I wonder...may we have a moment?"

"Of course. Gutierre, step outside."

"Actually, with respect, I meant that I needed a moment with your son. Alone."

"I see...very well, then. I'll be in the reception room when you've finished."


As Count Diego left the room, the Bishop turned to Gutierre. "You've done the right thing. You have confessed this...indiscretion."

"Yes, Bishop."

"As you know, I am a young man myself. Even wearing this cloth, I am still human. I fully understand desire."

Gutierre nodded, attempting to conceal his surprise.

"But as men, we have the ability to control this desire. You understand? We need not act on every impulse. We must consider the outcome of every action."

"Yes, Bishop."

"Now...what do you plan to do?"

"I...Father wants me to marry Giselda."

"Are you going to?"

"I...I don't know. I don't love her...I know that's a terrible thing to say...especially now...but I don't. It doesn't feel right."

"Then pray, son. Pray for forgiveness, but more importantly, pray for guidance. You will soon know what to do. The answer will be made apparent."

"Thank you, Bishop."

"And, Gutierre?"

"Yes, Bishop?"

"Is this ever going to happen again?"

"Oh...no. Never again. I've learned my lesson the hard way. I swear chastity until the day I wed."

-------------------
Meanwhile, at the reception, the food was grand...but the drinks, it appeared, were a bit too strong.

"I say, Diego, this is quite the little celebration."

It was Count Nuno de Lara who spoke the words...Count of the neighboring Asturias de Santillana, and there was a certain tone that comes when one speaks the otherwise unspoken truths that flow from too much drink.

"Quite the celebration, indeed. I say, I was beginning to think none of your children would ever wed."

Diego inhaled deeply. He had enough to worry about. He didn't need to pay Nuno any attention.

"Good to see Jimena wed off though. Good to see the family line finally progressing."

Diego remained silent.

"I say, what are the odds? Seven sons...seven sons, nearly all of them grown men...and not a single one interested in the ladies!"

Diego lifted a heavy plate off of the buffet table. He watched how it shined in the dancing candlelight.

Nuno's voice was getting louder now, and they had quite the audience.

"Seven sons, I say! And every one of them a..."

Count Nuno de Lara didn't have a chance to finish his sentence.


I hope you won't blame him.





You see, a very heavy plate had just landed on his head.

------------------------

Some time later, Count Diego was standing at the gate, having just seen Count Nuno escorted off of his property.

He heard someone approaching, in the dark, and he turned swiftly.

"Giselda."

Giselda bowed her head, staring at her feet. "Your excellency," she whispered.

"You shouldn't be out here, in the cold. You're ill."

"Senor Gutierre? He spoke to you, sir?"

"Yes, Giselda. He did."

"The child..."

"Shh."

"The child..."

"I know."

And so they stood there, in the silence and the cold, neither one wanting to say what had to be said next.

And yet...both knowing it had to be said.

"The child...





"Is yours."

 

[Actinguy]

The One Where Nobody's Gay - 1067

Count Diego de Leno may have broken a plate over Nuno's head, but he still took the point. It was time to start marrying his sons.

His eldest, Rodrigo, was the first to go. He married Sigrid Grip, a cute 16-year-old Norwegian trouble-maker, if he'd ever seen one. Fruela, mirraculously, was the next, wedding Veleslava Ivanovich, who could have been Ragnhild's twin sister, if they were related.

How Veleslava managed to overlook his club foot, intestinal worm, and hare lip, Diego would never know.

Fernando married Agafia Fedorovich just two months later, and she was the most beautiful (and trouble) of them all.



And then there was Gutierre...

"Son...we need to discuss this situation. With Griselda."

"Yes, Father."

"Are you sorry? Do you swear you will never let anything like this ever happen again?"

"Of course, Father. Never again."

"Alright, then. Obviously, Griselda can not cross the sea with Jimena, in her condition. That means she stays here, and that means there will be questions."

"Yes, father."

"Here is what we'll do. We'll keep Griselda out of the public eye for a few months, until she has the baby. Obviously, we won't be able to hide her from your brothers or your mother, so we'll tell them this is the indiscretion of some long-lost commoner, and that we've decided to be supportive. When Griselda has the baby, we tell the public that it is Jimena's, who has sent it here as a Fosterling."

"But..."

"Griselda will do what we say, and Jimena never has to know. She's across the sea, near England. Word will never get to her. We will then make Griselda the child's maidservant, and I will provide for them both."

"For you," he added quickly.

And with that, Count Diego had solved the problem of the bastard child, with no one the wiser.

For now.

Freed from his obligation to marry Griselda, Gutierre soon married Praskovya...the exact opposite of his three sisters-in-law. Praskovya was a devout Russian woman, and expected the same in others.

Blessed to have his castle over-run with young, beautiful, strong women (each of whom reminded him of his wife), Count Diego decided it was time to shuffle his advisors.

He named Praskovya as his Chancellor. His brother-in-law would be his steward, and Gutierre his marshal. Sigrid, Rodrigo's wife, would be his spy master.

And so it seemed that everything would somehow work out for the De Leon family after all.


Until, of course, the bastard child was born.

 

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Quite entertaining tale, this. Following

 

[Actinguy]

(Thanks! BTW, for anyone who has read this so far, I had to change certain elements of the last post, because I wasn't able to completely recreate it in game. No need to go back and re-read it...the only changes were the names of Diego's daughters-in-law, and the Pope no longer orders Diego to kill Gutierre. Incidentally, we are now past the part where the game crashed last time, so now anything can happen!)

Away In A Manger - Winter, 1067

For nine months, Diego and Gutierre worked together to keep Giselda’s pregnancy as secret as possible…Gutierre believing that he was the father, and Diego knowing the child was his.

Diego’s wife Cristina believed the cover story about a random commoner having fathered the child before fleeing, and took pity on young Giselda. Giselda was, in fact, the daughter of Cristina’s own maid servant when she was a child…and, consequently (despite the obvious difference in class), she had always considered Giselda to be a baby sister. Cristina actually became so supportive that she eventually appointed herself to be Giselda’s midwife…having no idea, of course, that she would be assisting in bringing her husband’s bastard child into the world.

On the other hand, Praskovya…Gutierre’s wife…proved less than understanding. She found the whole idea that either Giselda could abandon her daily duties long enough to rendezvous with a stranger outside the castle without anyone noticing…or, even less likely, that some stranger could ENTER the Count’s quarters without the guards stopping him…to be entirely preposterous. But to give any further consideration as to the identity of the child’s father would only serve to give more fuel to this terrible scandal, and it was best to just avoid Giselda all together. Naturally, she ordered Gutierre to do the same, not wanting her husband to get any ideas from such a woman of low moral fiber…never imagining the fact that, in Gutierre’s mind, the child was actually his.

Diego, still trying to find some sign of life in teenaged son Fernando, had decided to take the boy with him to examine the stable’s horses. Perhaps Fernando would find a passion for animals…there was bound to be SOMETHING that excited the child. But what they found outside the stable proved to be far more exciting than a mere stallion.

Giselda was laying on the ground, screaming in pain.

Diego stood, shocked…this wasn’t how it was supposed to happen. Cristina wasn’t here…she was way off in the castle. Despite having eight children of his own…soon nine…he knew nothing of the act of childbirth itself. He had to find Cristina…but he couldn’t just leave Giselda here, in the cold. He didn’t know what to do…so he just stood there, stupidly, and stared blankly at his screaming servant and former lover.

But as surprised as he was to find Giselda giving birth outside the stable…he was even more surprised by what happened next.

Fernando came alive.

 

[Actinguy]

Powerful In Battle, Powerful In Army - Winter, 1067

Realizing his father was frozen with shock and indecision, Fernando lifted the pregnant servant into his arms and carried her into the stable, where it was no warmer, but at least Giselda would now be shielded from the snow.

“You! Bring me a bucket of water. You and you! Make a bed out of this hay. You! Make a fire! No…no, no! Away from the hay! You! Bring me those saddle blankets! You! Run to the castle as fast as your legs will carry you and fetch my mother. Tell her Giselda is giving birth in the stable.”

As the servants scattered to follow Fernando’s orders, Diego realized with pride that his son had not only become a man…he had become a LEADER of men.

Diego continued to watch, amazed, as Fernando eased Giselda into a sitting position on the new bed of hay. Fernando then crawled behind her to support her back, and held her hand…which she squeezed so hard, Diego thought she would probably break it. Then Fernando encouraged Giselda to breathe in short, heavy breaths…which seemed to calm her slightly.

“Father…I need you in front. Mother isn’t going to make it in time. You have to guide the baby out.”

“What? I don’t know how to do this! This is a woman’s place!”

“There aren’t any women here, Father. If you don’t do it, they both could die.”

And with that, Diego became his servant’s midwife.


Cristina still hadn’t arrived when Giselda began to push…but inexperienced as Diego was, he could still tell there was a problem.

“Fernando! I think…I think the baby is stuck.”

“It can take a while to push out.”

“I know, but…I think the legs are wrapped around something. The child is coming out backwards!”


It was a breech birth…nearly 100% fatal for both mother and child in that era. Following Fernando’s guidance…where had the boy learned of such matters?...Diego tried to guide the child out head first, but it was of no use. The infant was stuck, still inside the mother. Fernando looked at Giselda, in so much pain and with no end in sight…then looked at his father’s sword…then back at Giselda.

“We have to cut her.”

“What? What do you mean, cut her?”

“There’s a way to cut her and take the baby out of her stomach.”

“But won’t that hurt her? And the baby?”

Giselda was in so much pain that she wasn’t even listening. She screamed.

“She’s already in pain. She isn’t going to last much longer. And even if it does hurt the baby…it’s the only chance the baby has.

“Alright…alright. Do it.”

Diego unsheathed his sword and moved to hand it to Fernando…just as Giselda screamed again, squeezing Fernando’s hand so hard that Fernando screamed as well. Temporarily shocked out of her pain-induced daze by Fernando’s scream, she released his hand.

It was broken.

“I can’t cut her open now. You’ll have to do it.”

“What? I can’t! I don’t know how!”

Giselda looked up at him, with those very eyes that had gotten them both into this mess at the beginning.

“Please…Senor Diego. Do it.”

“But there is no miracle healer here. You will die, Giselda.”

“I’m dying anyway. Save…save the baby. Please. For me.”

And so…with tears running from his eyes and gathering in his beard…Diego took his sword and sliced open Giselda’s stomach. The Count of Asturias de Oviedo reached through this servant’s stomach, guts clinging to his hands, and found the baby. He pulled, freeing the child. Fernando tied off the umbilical cord with his good hand, just as Cristina arrived…but the child failed to scream. It wasn’t even breathing.

Assessing the situation…her husband and son delivering the child, the mother with her stomach cut open, the baby making no noise…she quickly took the child by the armpits and swung it up and down in a rapid, repeating motion, clearing it’s lungs.

Finally the child began to cry.

“Senor Diego…”

Surprised that she was still alive, Diego said, “Giselda! Giselda…it’s a beautiful baby boy. A fighter. He’s already survived his first encounter with a sword.”

“Senor Diego…will you name him…Ramiro? It means…”

“Powerful in battle. Of course.”

Giselda nodded, and smiled a painful smile. “Powerful in army. Thank you.”

The young girl took one more breath, then looked at the three nobles gathered around her bed of hay.

“Senora Cristina. Senor Fernando. Senor Diego…please. Whatever happens…please…please don’t hurt Ramiro.”

And with that, Giselda passed away.

 

[unmerged(83622)]

How touching. And also, a very well-constructed event, it feels rather genuine. I get the feeling that Ramiro is destined for great doings...