Fb-fb:
She can try the patience, no doubt.
It certainly won't stop growing, that's for sure.
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Well, Margaret needs to watch her words more...
Still, it seems like she has some supporters still.
Still, it seems like she has some supporters still.
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More fb-fb:
To all - The next scene arrives in just a moment. It's another I had been waiting to write for a quite a long time and it was not easy. I am curious how you great readers will perceive it. Of course I know you will let me know.
It shouldn't be too shocking that many are already coming to her to show support. If York had questionable enemies before, he definitely has some now. The question is - how will she use them?
To all - The next scene arrives in just a moment. It's another I had been waiting to write for a quite a long time and it was not easy. I am curious how you great readers will perceive it. Of course I know you will let me know.
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Bletsoe Castle, October 1455
It was odd to be back here, she thought. She had always remained close to her mother of the same name Margaret Beauchamp who had moved around often owing to her current marriage to the Baron of Welles, Lionel de Welles. This Margaret, the daughter...she had moved around often as well. A pawn in a game of chess, perhaps. A child with an inheritance in her own right that many desired and thus, she had been a ward to King Henry since the day that her father died when she was barely a year old. This wardship had not always been kind. Just five years ago, she had been married to John de la Pole, son of the late Duke of Suffolk. She was not yet seven. He was not yet eight. That they were so young, it had been easy to annul the marriage when the King wished it. As it was annulled, she did not recognize it as marriage at all. Merely a play in the game.
Yet since that time, she had split her journey between her mother’s estates in Dorset and Bletsoe and that of Lancashire where her new warder often resided when not on duty to the King, his half brother. In truth, she often wished to travel to Pembrokeshire in Wales. For it was there that her warder, Edmund Tudor, spoke of often. It was where his brother maintained a castle. And though she was now engaged to Edmund, it was to Jasper that she truly held feelings. They were both older than she. Edmund was thirteen years her senior and Jasper nearly twelve. Yet where the elder Tudor brother showed a sense of politics, it was Jasper that struck the bold and dashing figure as soldier.
Margaret Beaufort looked to herself in the glass mirror and felt to the soft silk of her wedding dress. It seemed ill fitting to her. She did not yet possess a body to fill it out so she did not look like the brides she had witnessed before. And in truth, she was uncomfortable. Not because of the ill fit, but because she was still so young. Old enough to choose a marriage but not old enough to understand it. As she continued to spy her young face, her mother entered her chamber.
“My dear!” Margaret Beauchamp declared, “You do look so lovely!”
The younger Margaret held a sad face, “Do I?”
“Oh...sweet child,” her mother shifted to hold her small shoulders, “You could not appear more precious to me or any other that would look upon you.”
“Yet I am your child,” Margaret questioned as she turned to face her mother, “Will I be to...him?”
Her mother smiled, “He adores you, my sweet. Has spoke of no thing other than this wish. Edmund is outright giddy that the day is finally here!”
“Yet I am just a child, mama,” Margaret appeared confused, “What could he see in me that he could not find in other more advanced ladies?”
Margaret Beauchamp grinned, “My dear...your dowry, of course. Though I do have several children by now, you will gain aplenty from me when my time does come. But more to that, your father left you much. His worth and his name. Thus...his pedigree.”
“Is that why people are married?” the young girl asked.
Her mother assured her, “It is rarely done otherwise. Every match is for place, my girl. If more should come of it...all the better.”
The younger Margaret turned back to the mirror, “I know not. I admit...I’ve spent my time praying upon it. God Almighty gives to me all thought that my life will be one of destiny. His path made for me. And I must say...I have had a vision that I am to marry Richmond. That I should. Yet...I know not that I am ready. I am worried.”
“Every young bride shows a worry, my sweet girl. A moment of doubt just before they are to join another. It is natural. Fear that not.”
Margaret continued to worry as she looked again to her mother, “Yet will he...want?”
Her mother smiled again, “Every man wants, dear girl. It is to be expected. Once joined in union, it will be your womanly duty to provide. Yet surely he will be a man of gentle nature. Edmund has shown to us both no thing but a kindness.”
Margaret Beaufort sighed as she looked back to her own face, “Where are my brothers and sisters, mama?”
“With everyone else, my dear,” her mother answered, “To the chapel of course. Your sister the nun assures me that the vicar is a good one and Oliver agrees. He and John are calming your groom’s nerves just as I am with you at the now. Should we keep them waiting too long? I think not.”
Grasping her mother’s hand, Margaret suggested, “I wish to keep Edith close, if I may. She is my eldest sister and having already been married, she would keep me to good faith.”
“If you so wish, dear child,” her mother gave nod, “Yet I am on my third marriage, my sweet. You should listen to my advice.”
“As you say,” Margaret answered as she stood and walked slowly to the chamber door, “I will.”
She was forced to stop when her mother did not follow. Turning back, she saw her mother begin to cry, “Mama! What is it?!”
“I simply...” Margaret Beauchamp tried to control her sobs, “...your father. How I wish he were here to see this day. How much he loved you and the promise you would hold. I know you did not know him...were not able. But the day that you were born...to this very castle...he did weep as I do now. Out of love and joy, my sweet girl. Pride. He cherished you. I wish he could see how you look at this moment.”
“Yet you are here with me, mama,” Margaret Beaufort stood to her with love, “And have cherished me as much for the both of you. You have never allowed me to forget papa and so, he is here this day. God assures it.”
After calming herself, Margaret Beauchamp smiled and led her daughter to the chapel. By all accounts the service was a good one and the feast after found no complaints. The young Margaret smiled often and was flanked by both of her eldest sisters Edith and Mary. They all laughed when a drinking game went to the favor of the Tudor brothers with her own John and Oliver conceding defeat gracefully. Her sister of the same name and a nun at Shaftsbury, Margaret St. John, was gracious to all as she bid them farewell before things grew a bit more ribald. And then it was time, it seemed. The calls became louder, “Abed! Abed!!”
Margaret tried to play along as the men gently led her from the high table yet the ladies were more forcefully leading Edmund away with articles of his clothing coming off at nearly every step. Both finally found themselves alone in Edmund’s bedchamber with sounds of laughter still ringing to the room from outside. She, being young, was modest. He, being older and having half of his suit removed already, was jovial.
“Did you wish for more wine?” he asked as he stoked the fire and then turned to pour himself further libation.
She shifted to sit upon the bed and removed her garters and stockings, “I think not.”
“It was a fine evening, I think,” Edmund mused as he stood over her with drink in hand and watched.
“Sir...” Margaret demurred, “...I am unused to such viewing.”
Edmund smiled, “You are now my wife, my Lady. I should hope to view this at every turn.”
“As you wish,” Margaret attempted a pleasing smile as she folded her stockings neatly, “Then mayhap you would assist me with my dress?”
“I thought that you would never ask,” he grinned as he placed his cup aside and moved to her, “Now how does this work?”
Margaret answered softly, “The clasps...to the back. That will release the bodice.”
With clumsy fingers, he obliged. She deftly removed her skirt and then stood with her back to him in no thing but her shift. With her arms crossing her young breasts, she turned to him, “Should we then do as said...abed?”
“My Lady...” Edmund offered a curious eye, “...are you not charged by the night? How could one sleep after that?”
“I believe that I could,” Margaret answered.
Edmund stepped closer and held a gentle hand to her face, “Yet you look so pretty there. I can barely resist.”
“I should like to think...in time...I may be able,” she replied as she lowered her head in response.
“You do not think yourself a beauty, is that it?” Edmund stepped away with a smile.
Margaret moved to stand by the fire with her arms around her still, “No, my Lord. It is not that. While my looks be not classical, I do not think that I am ugly. It is rather...”
“Meg...may I call you Meg?” Edmund questioned.
She gave nod, “You may call me whatever you like. You are now my Lord husband. Though I do prefer my given name.”
“Fair enough then,” Edmund replied, “Margaret...we are more than just man and wife. Do you understand?”
Margaret turned from him to look into the flames as she answered, “I do not.”
“My mother was the Queen of England, and her father the King of France,” Edmund suggested as he stepped closer to her, “Your great-great grandfather was Edward named the third, my Lady. King of England. Our union is more than just a coupling.”
“I know my history, sir,” she replied quickly keeping her eyes to the fire.
Edmund took another step, “So you would know that what we do here...what we may do here...holds larger purpose than most.”
“I know...” Margaret turned to him with shyness, “...that I am a piece on a game board. Have been since the day that I was born. I am fully aware of my place, such that it is. Did you marry me because you wished to play a game, sir...or some other?”
He shifted to hold her, “I married you because I love you. I have since the day that you were made my ward. I understand your misgivings...both political and...in inexperience...yet...”
“I am not political, my Lord,” Margaret looked up to him from her tiny frame, “Yet I am very much lacking in experience. I would merely wish...a time of growing.”
Edmund brushed his hand to her cheek, “There is no better way to gain experience but to have an experience.”
“Of course,” she allowed.
She flinched when he moved to kiss her cheek, “Be still, little one. I shall forever cherish you.”
“I am...just...unsure,” she replied as Edmund continued to kiss her face.
He moved his lips to her mouth, “You would not be after this night. For I love you.”
They kissed and then she gently pulled away, “Could we...at least...go to the bed?”
“Shy still, eh?” Edmund laughed, “Then let me show you all of mine.”
As he fully undressed, Margaret moved tepidly to the bed, “It is warmer under the covers, surely.”
“Yet, wife...” he stood tall in his nakedness, “...let me see you.”
“I’d rather not,” she allowed.
Edmund stepped to her and gently slipped one of the straps to her shift over her slim shoulder, “Come now. The room is warm and I am warmer still. I shall heat you up.”
She reluctantly gave nod and slipped the other strap over her shoulder removing her shift fully. Standing naked before him, she felt uncomfortable and lifted her hands to cover herself, “Though it be my natural state, I do not feel natural at the now.”
“Give it time,” Edmund answered as he kissed her again and led her to the bed.
That night was a long one to her mind. And it would be one of many to come in the weeks ahead. He had spoken of love. To her, it was not that. Yet she did as told and every single time all she could do was close her eyes and think of duty. Just as her mother had said.
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Yet further proof that Margaret is an idiot.
Putting it mildly. No disrespect to our author who had to include such things, but I'm going to skip commenting beyond that as I'd rather not think about it.
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Instant fb-fb:
But I wish you would comment on the scene, as disturbing as it is (and I do not deny it.)
To all - So I knew this would be a harsh scene to read. I honestly did not know another way to write it. A friend of mine called me as I was in the middle of writing it and asked what I was doing. "Oh...just writing a rape scene. That's all." I know it's the Middle Ages and things were done...differently. But this is why I could not leave the scene out. Sure, she was mother to a future King of England in OTL, but this is how he got there. A young girl, barely 13. It's no secret for this narrative that she became pregnant soon. Harsh realities of the times.
I've never been a 12 or 13 year old girl, but I do have sisters that I protected at that age and nieces of the same. I do not mind saying that I thought of them as I wrote this scene. I hope I gave Margaret some sense of her position. I did not care to give Edmund much at all. I did not include the scene to be salacious. It is important to the narrative and while I could have excluded it, I wanted to offer Margaret a point to explain what may be her future actions.
Should I have skipped it?
Should I not have included it? Your respect for Henry VII...well this is how he came into the world. See below.
What's in Hertfordshire? Never been there, so I don't know.
But I wish you would comment on the scene, as disturbing as it is (and I do not deny it.)
To all - So I knew this would be a harsh scene to read. I honestly did not know another way to write it. A friend of mine called me as I was in the middle of writing it and asked what I was doing. "Oh...just writing a rape scene. That's all." I know it's the Middle Ages and things were done...differently. But this is why I could not leave the scene out. Sure, she was mother to a future King of England in OTL, but this is how he got there. A young girl, barely 13. It's no secret for this narrative that she became pregnant soon. Harsh realities of the times.
I've never been a 12 or 13 year old girl, but I do have sisters that I protected at that age and nieces of the same. I do not mind saying that I thought of them as I wrote this scene. I hope I gave Margaret some sense of her position. I did not care to give Edmund much at all. I did not include the scene to be salacious. It is important to the narrative and while I could have excluded it, I wanted to offer Margaret a point to explain what may be her future actions.
Should I have skipped it?
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Too many Margarets around...
Said so, this chapter has been a quite succesful way to go over one of the most delicate chapter of this (his)tory.
Congratz.
Said so, this chapter has been a quite succesful way to go over one of the most delicate chapter of this (his)tory.
Congratz.
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At the time itself, people were plenty disturbed by it, and other occasions where a marriage had obviously been consummated before the age of around 15. It was legal...but so heavily frowned upon that the nobility did it sparingly enough. There are a few high profile cases of such things, and they all demonstrate:
A) a surpisng amount of disgust from the nobility for the man involved regardless of rank (because it was, as today, seen as pedophilia).
B) practical reasons why it wasn't attempted for pragmatic political reasons. Children can conceive but giving birth ruins their bodies to an extent that it has a high risk of rendering them barren, which is quite a big deal for feudal nobility marriages.
C) enormous amounts of public disapproval from everyone, esepcially commoners, academics and the church.
The scene itself was...alright? Margaret was sympathetic, Edmund was suitably creepy, and everyone else was trying fairly hard to pretend this was a normal wedding, albeit avoiding the married couple afterwards.
A) a surpisng amount of disgust from the nobility for the man involved regardless of rank (because it was, as today, seen as pedophilia).
B) practical reasons why it wasn't attempted for pragmatic political reasons. Children can conceive but giving birth ruins their bodies to an extent that it has a high risk of rendering them barren, which is quite a big deal for feudal nobility marriages.
C) enormous amounts of public disapproval from everyone, esepcially commoners, academics and the church.
The scene itself was...alright? Margaret was sympathetic, Edmund was suitably creepy, and everyone else was trying fairly hard to pretend this was a normal wedding, albeit avoiding the married couple afterwards.
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My thoughts on the matter, not that they’re too terribly important, is that a War of the Roses TL trying to stay true to the historical narrative so far cannot ignore the second most-important… coupling… of the entire period (after the marriage of the product of this, the future Henry VII, and his wife Elizabeth, Edward (the current Earl of March and future IV)’s daughter, which effectively ended the war). Every English, Scottish, and eventually British sovereign since the War of the Roses has been the descendant of a child or grandchild of this… coupling.
And it’s not as though such a subject is beyond the pale of the official EU4 forum, given how common it is for rulers to come of age on their 15th birthday and immediately produce a child heir that presumably had been conceived 9 months prior.
And if we must discuss it, as indeed, we have to for the reasons given above, the most honest and sensitive way to do so is to not sugarcoat things or sweep it under the rug.
All the same though… ick.
And it’s not as though such a subject is beyond the pale of the official EU4 forum, given how common it is for rulers to come of age on their 15th birthday and immediately produce a child heir that presumably had been conceived 9 months prior.
And if we must discuss it, as indeed, we have to for the reasons given above, the most honest and sensitive way to do so is to not sugarcoat things or sweep it under the rug.
All the same though… ick.
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A veritable blizzard of chapters, sir! I couldn’t let the earlier ones go without a comment or two, so here goes.
Always that nagging feeling that the sun will go back behind the clouds and the rain fall all too soon.
Isabel is the truth to power voice here, clearly.
And well might she so assert.
Isabel is very nearly the Cassandra figure here. And the Greek Tragedy theme would be well suited to these times. I really enjoyed this chapter and how you used her as the ‘remember thou art mortal’ figure.
Agree.
That sounds like the main plot line of any TBC CK AAR!
True words spoken.
Hmm. Clearly a new and nasty creature introduced to the swamp. Dirty deeds will be done, without doubt.
Poor little poppet. Truly forced to Think of England. But Edmund is right.
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That was disturbing... but I figure that it's accurate enough.
I wonder if the attitude of all marriages being for politics will prove problematic - it's true to the time period, sure, but that time period also had things like constant cheating and disputed successions... Come to think of it, isn't that attitude what caused the Wars of the Roses both in OTL and here?
I wonder if the attitude of all marriages being for politics will prove problematic - it's true to the time period, sure, but that time period also had things like constant cheating and disputed successions... Come to think of it, isn't that attitude what caused the Wars of the Roses both in OTL and here?
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As I think on it, it only actually occurred once, in Lancaster with Elfwine the Dark Wizard King.
Ged of course is Irish and wasn't a psychopath or a hard ruler in Ireland, the Pendragons of Albion took multiple generations to take England and their whole thing was chivalry (at least, to an extent), Little Dux is entirely focused on Venice, and Life of Brian...does feature an entire culture of supremely pragmatic sociopaths, but they take over the entire world, not just England. And since everywhere else 'not Ireland' is a colony until it is full of nothing but Irish, I wouldn't say they 'sorted England out' in that way...
...? About the claim a child would have?
Eh...moreso that there's far, far too many claiments to the throne, and the main ruling line hasn't actually got a completely rock solid lineage claim above all the rest. England has essentially far too many plantagenet children around, enough so that the two main family lines have multiple other lesser lines associated with them, plus their own offspring to handle.
This won't even get resolved by the Tudors either (though they basically crush most of it by killing a lot of the survivors, putting limits on who can marry who, attempting to legitimise succession laws etx), and really doesn't truly get sorted until Parliament finally finally properly finally decides the issue themselves. And then after a few uprisings and rebellions, a civil war, another civil war, another rebellion, and another rebellion, and so on, until things finally calm down when Victoria reigns.
...
Until Edward VIII, but fortunately he never had kids and so resolving that particular mess didn't figure into succession too much.
England's monarchy is relatively stable in power, but the succession itself has been remarkably wobbly considering the age and consistency of the crown itself.
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Indeed, it is amazing that we consider the British/English throne so stable today compared to what happened on the Continent, but historically the opposite was true. Right up until a few months before he was frog-marched to the guillotine, Louis XVI still had an indisputable cachet as the eldest male-line descendant of Huges Capet, while George III was a fourth-generation interloper who had seen a serious revolt try to restore the previous dynasty happen in his lifetime just 35 years prior.
This is actually going to crib a bit from my notes for that Edgar Aelthing project but it is fairly relevant so…
[note: this was written about six months ago when Queen Elizabeth II was still alive]
It is a feeling of strange familiarity to write a medieval story set in England, particularly one centered around the restoration of a royal family of great antiquity to the throne. The present United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland is virtually unique among all the nations of the Western world in the extent which the underlying feudal structure of the state has remained intact. One does not need to be living in the seventieth year of the reign of The Queen (and that I am even able to write that and everyone on Earth knows whom I am talking about just underlines this point) to see this; any time that monarch walks through the palace of Westminster, adorned in crown imperial and robes of state, flanked by emblazoned heralds and hundreds of bishops and lords in ermine and scarlet, time feels as though it ceases to be. Other countries may still maintain monarchies, but generally they’re appendix to a modern republic in all but name. Only in England, and to a lesser extent Scotland and Wales, is the apparatus beneath still extant - the Garter and Lyon colleges continue their work, the hereditary aristocracy are still major landowners and influential members of the public school set; the City of London enjoys her ancient privileges; the duchies of Lancaster and Cornwall still send their revenues to the royal households; the Crown Estate continues to hold dominion over the tidal zones and a thousand other marginal places; the Church of England an integral part of the state, and so on. Some might call it charming, others cancerous, but to the fantasy writer, the alternate historian, and the medieval enthusiast, it’s catnip - the ultimate case study of what a feudal world might look like if it makes it to the modern age…
Except to the historian, this is mostly nonsense. England hasn’t been “feudal” since the end of the Wars of the Roses, and even before that the dynamic of crown, nobles, and commons was substantially different than Continental realms. The Crown Jewels are reproductions dating to 1662, after Cromwell destroyed the originals, and the coronations and state funerals and openings of parliament are all inventions of King Edward VII, who effectively is the spiritual predecessor of J.J. Abrams in the art of manufacturing nostalgia. But of course the crowning absurdity is that the crown and aristocracy of England are well… not really English. Most of the great hereditary families of the realm are of Norman French origin, installed in their class by William the Conqueror and the dynasty he founded. Said dynasty which managed to kill itself off, resulting in the throne going to a French house that also managed to commit mass suicide, which then passed to a Franco-Welsh house that went mad with power to the exclusion of having children, and from there to Scotland’s royal house, which managed the spectacular feat of being violently overthrown not once, but twice within a half-century, leading to a very complicated song and dance where a German dynasty got the throne and held it until all the men of it successfully managed to have children with everyone but their wives, at which point it passed to the German-origin house of her present majesty literally a generation before the birth of her majesty (and it should surprise no one at this point that she apparently has native-speaker level fluency in French and German) and so it goes from there - an entire history of chaos and violence and foreign entanglements and integrations. Of the 31 monarchs to sit on the throne of England/Great Britain between William the Conqueror and George III (not counting Henry the Young King, Edward V, Lady Jane Grey, Mary I’s husband Phillip II of Spain, the Cromwells, or Mary II and William III having distinct reigns), 23-25 (depending on how one counts) had a major internal revolt in their reign, 17 faced down a rebellion explicitly targeted at overthrowing them, six lost their thrones, and four (Edward II, Henry VI, Richard III, Charles I) lost their lives. The throne of England then was probably the most cursed chair for a pre-1789 monarch to sit in.
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However, it had the advantage of slowly accumulating more and more power over the centuries till it was an absolute monarchy (and still is, technically). Its just following the Yes Minister program of concentrating all power with the PM and then sending the PM away. Parliament and whomever was running it has been leeching power slowly from the crown for a similarly long time...but then the process screeched to a halt with the German Georgians, who essentially needed regents for much of their reigns. At that point, the executive government got in the way of parliament, and it became the one leeching the power away from the crown whilst keeping it intact.
That, I suspect, is the entire reason why the monarchy stays. Because it gives whomever is currently in government absolute power provided they have a working majority in Parliament, and aren't technically 'in charge' and have someone to bow to.
That, I suspect, is the entire reason why the monarchy stays. Because it gives whomever is currently in government absolute power provided they have a working majority in Parliament, and aren't technically 'in charge' and have someone to bow to.
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Fb-fb:
And I would say that as bad as the rape itself is (and that is what I see happened) the pedophilia is even worse. I don't care how important the coupling might be for the future.
The ending may have been a bit cliched, but that was the first thought that came to mind.
I don't want to spend too much time looking at what happened historically because that is not this, but it does help explain somewhat how we got here. So I thank you both for offering it up. For those not as familiar with the throne in England's history, this is a great lesson and a consideration.
To all - So a few more words on the scene and its implications. Firstly, while I cannot say one way or the other whether Margaret Beaufort will prove as important in this TL as she did in OTL, she will be a character and I have a definite idea as to the how and why she becomes the way she does. To me, this scene was necessary to show part of what formed her personality and motivations. One does not come out of a circumstance like that unchanged. It is definitely a harsh reality, but I do not shy away from that in my writing. Especially if it is or may be an inciting incident.
That said, it was not easy to write. As disgusting as it was to the reader, it was so too for me as the writer. And not just Edmund's actions, but also her mother's pushing her to do it (not outright, but the implication of it.) However, and as difficult as it was to get into that head space, I would not be a good writer (or at the least challenged as a writer) if I did not allow myself to go places that make me feel uncomfortable. It won't be the first time and it won't be the last. I hope.
On a larger point, thank you to all for giving reply. I assumed there would be disgust. If there was not, I'd be a little concerned.
As for writing, I have finished chapter 11 and have outlined all the way through chapter 14. I know I'm posting rather fast right now (and as always, I do apologize for those that do not have the time to keep up) because I do have so much in the can and I'd like to finish posting chapter 10 before the end of the year. I will try to slow down a bit after that for your sake as much as mine. But there is a lot of good stuff coming up and perhaps even more challenging material. It's those scenes I am most curious how they will be received. That is why I am so thankful for you the reader and your always excellent comments. It lets me know if I hit the mark or not. So again, thank you!
Look for the next scene tomorrow, probably late. I can promise it is not as icky and even brings back a character we've not seen in some time.
...and Henrys, Richards, Williams, etc, etc.
All true things, though I would say that in this period especially public disapproval did not seem to stop many of the actors from doing awful things.
And I would say that as bad as the rape itself is (and that is what I see happened) the pedophilia is even worse. I don't care how important the coupling might be for the future.
I appreciate these thoughts and understanding why I thought I needed to include it. I'll say more below.
I did enjoy writing for Isabel because she does not really play prominently in this time so I could be rather free with her. She has the Plantagenet pride and the acerbic outlook of Cecily. Poor Richard does not stand a chance.
On Tailboys especially, probably not done cheap.Agree.
That sounds like the main plot line of any TBC CK AAR!
True words spoken.
Hmm. Clearly a new and nasty creature introduced to the swamp. Dirty deeds will be done, without doubt.
Poor little poppet. Truly forced to Think of England. But Edmund is right.
The ending may have been a bit cliched, but that was the first thought that came to mind.
Sort of. Mistresses and intermarriage by the larger houses does lead to quite a lot of potential claimants. Shoot, one could say that Edward III having so many sons that lived long enough to produce gives us the large list of folks with some type of claim.
I'm going to let these three posts sit together because they all look very well at the crown in general (both over time and even at this time.) And @Historywhiz , if that is an example of the work you are doing, you definitely need to post it in full!
I don't want to spend too much time looking at what happened historically because that is not this, but it does help explain somewhat how we got here. So I thank you both for offering it up. For those not as familiar with the throne in England's history, this is a great lesson and a consideration.
To all - So a few more words on the scene and its implications. Firstly, while I cannot say one way or the other whether Margaret Beaufort will prove as important in this TL as she did in OTL, she will be a character and I have a definite idea as to the how and why she becomes the way she does. To me, this scene was necessary to show part of what formed her personality and motivations. One does not come out of a circumstance like that unchanged. It is definitely a harsh reality, but I do not shy away from that in my writing. Especially if it is or may be an inciting incident.
That said, it was not easy to write. As disgusting as it was to the reader, it was so too for me as the writer. And not just Edmund's actions, but also her mother's pushing her to do it (not outright, but the implication of it.) However, and as difficult as it was to get into that head space, I would not be a good writer (or at the least challenged as a writer) if I did not allow myself to go places that make me feel uncomfortable. It won't be the first time and it won't be the last. I hope.
On a larger point, thank you to all for giving reply. I assumed there would be disgust. If there was not, I'd be a little concerned.
As for writing, I have finished chapter 11 and have outlined all the way through chapter 14. I know I'm posting rather fast right now (and as always, I do apologize for those that do not have the time to keep up) because I do have so much in the can and I'd like to finish posting chapter 10 before the end of the year. I will try to slow down a bit after that for your sake as much as mine.
But there is a lot of good stuff coming up and perhaps even more challenging material. It's those scenes I am most curious how they will be received. That is why I am so thankful for you the reader and your always excellent comments. It lets me know if I hit the mark or not. So again, thank you!Look for the next scene tomorrow, probably late. I can promise it is not as icky and even brings back a character we've not seen in some time.
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Well for starters I am, the current Pip Mansions is in that county.
I've gone round on this a few times as I really don't want to be too critical about this and certainly it was as well done as such a thing could be. Fundamentally I think my objection is that I just don't want to read about that particular subject, particularly at this time of year, not think about it in detail and so produce a worthwhile comment. It may well be a harsh historical truth but there are plenty of other historical horrors I don't want to read about in personal detail either. Of course such things are a matter of individual taste and preference detached from the quality of the writing; someone could produce an exquisitely written guide to the dog food factories of greater Paris but I'm still not going to want to read it.
To address your other question, personally I would have skipped the scene and hit the narrative beats in a different way. As TBC has said this sort of marriage would attract opprobrium from his peers, so the Tudor's rivals gossiping about the incident could have done the job of setting up the backstory but at a step removed from the actual ick.
For all that I would never dream of asking or expecting anyone to censor themself or not follow their muse when writing. So if you think that sort of scene is required then of course you were justified in including it, even if the dark change in tone was an unpleasant surprise.
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That is probably what I would have done. Would have allowed some more pontifical discussion about the monarchy, tudor brothers and the current situation, as well as kept it unknown as to exactly why Edmund did it.
Then again, if Margaret is to be a character, it makes sense to have her thoughts on the scene and focus on her throughout.
Then again, this being the case, it perhaps should not have been her FIRST pov scene because that makes the rape scene the introduction to and defining moment of her life in the narrative. Which...I take issue with both in terms of structure and...Well...ethics.
All this to say though that rhe scene was well written and handled. Just perhaps misplaced?
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Fb-fb:
That said, and as mentioned, if the scene did not have readers finding it disturbing, then I myself would be disturbed.
Next scene arrives in just a moment...
I can certainly see handling it through rumor, and I could have gone that route easily, but I did want to give Margaret her own agency. I rarely write purely POV but I did try and stick to that as much as possible within the scene, for right or wrong. Perhaps I might have given her more inner thought, but in the end it would likely have not made it easier for you or others to read. Which I surely understand.Well for starters I am, the current Pip Mansions is in that county.
I've gone round on this a few times as I really don't want to be too critical about this and certainly it was as well done as such a thing could be. Fundamentally I think my objection is that I just don't want to read about that particular subject, particularly at this time of year, not think about it in detail and so produce a worthwhile comment. It may well be a harsh historical truth but there are plenty of other historical horrors I don't want to read about in personal detail either. Of course such things are a matter of individual taste and preference detached from the quality of the writing; someone could produce an exquisitely written guide to the dog food factories of greater Paris but I'm still not going to want to read it.
To address your other question, personally I would have skipped the scene and hit the narrative beats in a different way. As TBC has said this sort of marriage would attract opprobrium from his peers, so the Tudor's rivals gossiping about the incident could have done the job of setting up the backstory but at a step removed from the actual ick.
For all that I would never dream of asking or expecting anyone to censor themself or not follow their muse when writing. So if you think that sort of scene is required then of course you were justified in including it, even if the dark change in tone was an unpleasant surprise.
What if it IS the defining moment in her life and colors how she thinks about everything in her future? She's had a rather sad past up until now losing her father at so young an age that she did not even know him (and recall that I included that scene too very early on.) She's been passed around for the sole reason of her potential claim and nothing to do with her own thoughts (which to be fair, was most children of Lords.) And then to finally reach this wedding day and it end like this? Let's just say that I do not view Margaret as a very happy person and this is a heavy reason why. It doesn't really get better from here.
That said, and as mentioned, if the scene did not have readers finding it disturbing, then I myself would be disturbed.
Next scene arrives in just a moment...
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Ludlow Castle, November 1455
“Keep your shoulder straight!” Leighson suggested.
Edmund of York fixed his back and did as told. When he let loose, the arrow hit squarely to the middle of the hay stack. Allen Leighson smiled, “You’ve progressed, young Lord. Always smart with the bow, but you’ve not missed once this day.”
“I’ve had plenty of time to practice,” the young man answered.
Leighson could sense the trouble, “Your travels of late?”
“I should not moan,” Edmund said with dejection.
“Moan away, young Lord,” the older man suggested, “Snow is on the ground and my stones are frozen. Can barely feel my fingers and yet you are on the mark.”
Edmund laughed, “You were the one that called for the practice.”
“I did, sir,” Leighson replied readily, “I saw your mood and considered it good for you.”
“I thank you.”
Leighson sat to a bench in the yard and leaned forward to his knees, “So what is your trouble, my Lord? You must know that you can speak to me.”
The boy lowered his head, “I should not say.”
“Then you must speak it, sir,” Leighson suggested, “Things left unsaid will fester and bring you ruin. Trust me, m’lad. I know.”
“You don’t speak much on your past, sir,” Edmund allowed, “Shall I ask you why?”
Leighson gave nod, “You may always, young Lord. I’ve done much to hide it...from myself as much as any other. Yet I cannot escape my past and would answer your every question.”
“You come from Kent, do you not?” the boy asked.
He answered, “I do.”
“And why did you leave that place?”
Leighson readily replied, “I saw little choice. Had I not, I’d have found my head upon a pike. Poor Cade. Foolish Cade. Foolish me.”
“You were part of the rebellion?!” Edmund asked with a wide eye.
“Now you ask too many questions,” Leighson suggested with a grin, “Yet I would tell you if you could promise not to tell your parents...the Lord and Lady. It was a time of trouble...as it seems so often these days. I was led to believe real change could happen. And a bright man could lead it. I followed. To my detriment. And yet...it led me to here. So...not all is bad.”
Edmund showed a quizzical face, “Do you regret it?”
“How could I?” the older man answered, “Without my past, I have no better future. I regret no thing but my silence. Had I spoken more...perhaps Cade would still live.”
When the young Lord remained quiet, Leighson reached to hold his shoulder, “So then...what troubles you? What is your silence?”
“Second sons, sir,” Edmund replied.
Leighson sat back with a curious eye, “Pardon?”
Edmund kicked the dirt before answering, “I am the second son. Every thing that I do...my brother has done it before me. Even now...while I train with you...Edward is to London with papa. And here am I.”
“Well I’m sorry to be such poor company,” Leighson jested.
The boy showed an earnest face, “I did not mean…I am sorry.”
Leighson grinned, “Don’t be. I understand. Yet you are king of the castle, are you not? The Lord of Ludlow at the now!”
“I am twelve years in age and am made Earl of Rutland…” Edmund answered, “...yet Ned has seen battle and I am made to nurse my siblings and run a keep.”
The instructor gave nod, “A rowdy bunch, your siblings. I think your sisters to run roughshod over you...and the boys...Georgie and Dickon are a handful.”
“I know it is my duty,” Edmund allowed, “Yet...I would wish to be with papa at the now. He is made Protector again...and the King...it is just...”
Leighson leaned forward, “Say it boy.”
“I do not like being without,” he replied, “My father runs a kingdom and I run a keep. And Edward is there with him all the way. My duty keeps me from them...and theirs from me. I miss them. Papa’s instruction...mama’s warm touch.”
Leighson laughed, “I’ve never known your mother to be warm.”
“She does not task lightly, sir,” Edmund answered with a grin.
The older man held strong to the boy’s shoulder, “Then you should know...you are doing what you must. Day by day...you will always be held in high esteem. By your parents. By these around you that love and respect you. Some day you will truly run a keep, as you say. You will be fully an Earl and Lord of your realm. As we do here, these are practicing times. A learning.”
“I am not without ears, sir,” Edmund replied, “I do know what happens. I was with papa...briefly...before St. Albans. I do know that the King has gone silent again. I hear of so many others...finding their due. My cousin Warwick...my brother in law, Exeter...even the young Beaufort girl. And the Tudors!”
“I would not wish to grow up so fast, my young Lord,” Leighson suggested, “And they are your senior. Even your brother. Enjoy your youth as much as you may...for it will not last.”
Edmund frowned, “We are made to grow up quickly in this family.”
“Aye...tis true,” Leighson agreed, “Your father the Lord of York does beat a path that you must follow. Yet you are your own man, are you not? Young still, but learning every day. I hope at least, if I am any guide. So what is your true wish?”
“I’ve told you,” Edmund replied, “I do love Ned...but I am jealous of him. He gets to smell the field of battle and I...am stuck here. It’s unfair!”
Leighson pulled the boy closer to sit beside him, “I also have ears, my young Lord. And I may tell you...battle is harsh...and life itself is unfair. I’ve lived it and you may not tell me that those that lost are proud. The Earl in the north? He’s dead. His kin...the man Clifford...also dead. The great beast...Somerset. Very dead. That could have been your father. Your brother. That could have been you.”
“But it was not!” Edmund stood with pride, “Everything papa does is with purpose! And I would follow him!”
With a sigh, Leighson patted the seat next to him. Edmund sat and the older man put an arm around the boy, “There will be time enough for you to put your stamp on history, m’lad. I say to you again...do not rush it. Your brother is made more because he is the first son. Allow it, I say. Learn from his mistakes, mayhap. For he will make them. Being the second son...the royals call it a spare, mind you...well...be that. Your father...your mother...they would not place you here with all of this duty if they did not trust you. And as I see it, there will be time enough if you wish to find battle. I do not train you otherwise.”
“And you do well,” Edmund allowed.
Leighson smiled, “Good. Now forget ailing Kings and all powerful Lords and just do your lessons.”
Still saddened, Edmund did as told but was interrupted when his younger brothers ran out into the yard. George moved to pick up the bow and small Richard followed. Edmund admonished them, “You have barely held a nap!”
“Lillebet said we could play!” George announced as he pointed to their sister.
Elizabeth smiled as she stood under the arch, “To arms, brother. I could not keep Dickon down. He is restless.”
George followed, “And I wish to practice too!”
Margaret stood next to her older sister, “You are Lord of the manor, sir...what say you?”
“To battle!” the three year old Richard announced to all as he gathered stray arrows.
Leighson stood with a grin and looked to the young Earl, “Are you ready to instruct?”
“Do I have choice?” Edmund looked back with a sigh.
“Nay, m’Lord,” Leighson laughed as he rounded up the younger boys, “It is likely time that they too learn the arts.”
“And what about us, Master Leighson?” Margaret questioned with a grin.
Edmund sighed again as he wrapped up his youngest brother in his arms, “Oh very well. How could I deny?”
“Show me!” George demanded with a smile as he held up the bow.
Elizabeth grinned, “Indeed, brother. Show him. Show them both. If father can be protector and defender, then mayhap it is your time to be both as well. Give us a rest, would you?”
“She speaks truth,” Margaret followed.
Allen Leighson smiled at them all with a laugh, “The world will tremble when this lot makes their mark.”
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