A Queen Twice Over: Mary Tudor the Elder Marries Francis I of France
- Thread starter FalconHonour
- Start date
Fair dos.
Quite. It doesn't mean he's not married to her.
Section LXII - May 1525
Fontainebleau, May 1525
The sun beats down on the tiltyard, making Marie mightily grateful for the shade of her canopied royal box. Fanning herself lightly with her hand, she can’t even begin to imagine how hot the riders must be, as they prepare for their tilts in their glittering tournament armour.
Putting the men’s misery from her mind for a moment, she glances around, taking in the women around her. They are not necessarily her usual companions in the royal box, for she has chosen these ladies not for their rank, but for their English connections. As such, twelve and nine-year-old Kate and Annie Parr join Margot, Renee, Henri and Louise in the front row, while their mother sits in a place of honour to Marie’s left. On Marie’s right, naturally, is the young Countess de St Pol. Anne is laughing and waving to her brother George, who brought the news of the Duke of Cornwall’s birth and, alongside his father, has been asked to stay and take part in the joust in the boy’s honour.
George trots over to the side of the stands and the dark-haired siblings share a few words, glancing back to the children once or twice, before George nods and rides away. Anne returns to her seat, and, at that very moment, the trumpets blare, announcing the first joust: King Francis against her father, Lord Rochford.
“Dear Papa,” she chuckles, “He must be hating this. He’s never been a rider. We all took after Maman in how well we can sit a horse.”
Marie grimaces in sympathy, but Thomas Boleyn puts up a credible enough showing to begin with, as he tips his lance to King Francis and the two of them turn to the crowd, seeking ladies to ask for their favour.
As they’ve arranged between themselves, Francis rides straight past Marie and bows his head to Anne.
“Madame de St Pol, might I have the honour of riding in your colours today?”
Anne flushes with pleasure at being singled out so, but retains her composure well enough to rise, curtsy and tie a ribbon in the St Pol colours around the cheekpiece of Francis’s horse’s bridle.
“Bien Sur, Your Grace,” she smiles, “May it bring you as much luck as the Queen’s favour usually does.”
Anne’s poise is not, sadly, matched by her father’s. He’s not been to France for years, so this is the first time he’s really seen his middle daughter as a Princess of the Blood. So proud is he to see her basking comfortably in royal favour that he almost forgets to ask Marie for her favour. He has to rush the question as the next pair of knights trot up behind him.
He flushes scarlet at the lapse, clearly browbeating himself inwardly, and Marie smiles gently at him. She knows what parental pride can be like. She can forgive him, just this once.
Six-year-old Henri, however, attending his first joust and too young to understand the nuances of what’s just been played out, is not nearly so forgiving. He snorts derisively as Marie ties a royal blue ribbon embroidered with ostrich feathers to the pommel of Lord Rochford’s saddle.
“Papa wouldn’t have forgotten. He should be Maman’s champion, not Lord Rochford. Don’t worry, Maman. I’ll be your champion next time, and I won’t forget!”
“Don’t be silly! You can’t even ride!” Louise, twenty-one months younger than Henri and likewise attending her first joust, is eager to show how clever she is. She rounds on her older brother and Henri bristles.
“I can too ride! I ride better than you! You’re just a baby – you’re not even off the leading rein yet!”
Predictably, Louise shrieks at the insult, and Marie rolls her eyes as her younger children descend into squabbles. She tunes them out just in time to see George and Fran approach the royal box. Fran glances to her quickly, and when she nods imperceptibly, draws rein before Margot.
“May I beg the honour of your favour, My Lady Princess?”
Margot’s eyes light up. She leaps to her feet and bounds towards the edge of the stands. Hand already at her wrist to untie her favour, she freezes and glances towards Marie. She’s never been asked for her favour before.
Marie nods encouragingly at her eldest. Margot’s nine now. She’ll be Queen of Portugal before too much longer. She deserves this rite of passage. Being the sweet-tempered girl she is, she’d never have asked for it of her own accord, but she deserves the acknowledgement that she’s growing older, especially since Francis has deemed her younger siblings old enough to watch these jousts as well.
Besides, no girl forgets the first knight who asked for her favour, no matter how high her rank. Marie herself can still remember the delight she felt when Nicholas Carew asked for her favour at her brother’s coronation joust. And he wasn’t even half as good looking or heroic as Fran, the famous captor of the Emperor. Margot will be over the moon at this.
Margot doesn’t need telling twice. She stretches up on tiptoe and ties a cream ribbon to the throatlash of Fran’s grey mount with a beaming smile, her dark curly hair cascading down her back and gleaming in the sun as she does so. Her ribbon, like Marie’s, is embroidered with ostrich feathers. All the favours are, ostrich feathers being the traditional badge of the Prince of Wales.
Fran thanks Margot and salutes her carefully and then she skips back to her seat. Marie can’t help but chuckle to herself at the sight. Margot’s not quite a grown woman yet, for all she likes to pretend she is.
George Boleyn is next to ask one of their number for a favour. Marie is surprised to see him offer his lance to young Kate Parr. Renee is still unaccounted for, and she would have thought that George, an ambitious rising star at her brother’s Court, would have chosen to seek the blessing of the sovereign Duchess of Brittany rather than a relative nobody like Kate.
Seeing the confusion on her Queen’s face, Anne leans over.
“I asked him to. I knew Papa would ask for yours and that you’d arranged for His Grace to ask for mine, while Fran honoured Mademoiselle Margot, so that left George unattached. I like Kate, I wanted to make her smile. And I also thought that Mademoiselle Margot might like to see her best friend honoured alongside her.”
Marie’s face clears and she smiles at Anne.
“That was very thoughtful of you, Annabelle. I’m sure the girls will appreciate it. Now, are you all set for your trip to England?”
“Yes, Madam,” Anne leans back in her seat, settling herself more comfortably, “Papa is to go on to Savoy from here, to discuss a match between Lady Elizabeth and Prince Ludovico, so George is taking myself and Georges back with him sometime next week. We’ll pick Nora up from Hunsdon and then go to Aldenham to spend some time with our older sister and her family. George’s wife will join us there with Bess and Jamie.”
“You’ll go to Court first, I presume?”
“Bien sur. George will need to report to King Henry and I’ll need to pay my respects to Queen Mary and Prince George.”
“Would you do myself and the King a favour?”
Marie is careful to phrase the words as a request, for all they both know that Anne isn’t going to refuse, “Take a Landais foal with you for Prince George. Francis and I want to give our nephew a gift that will last, and Henri is most pleased with his Landais pony, aren’t you, Henri?”
“You’re not giving them Baucent! He’s mine!” Henri cries, whirling around from his argument with Louise to fix his mother with a fierce glare.
Were any of her other children to speak to her like that, Marie would scold them roundly, but not Henri. She merely chuckles fondly at her favourite son, and ruffles his hair.
“No, of course we won’t send George Baucent, mon coeur. But I thought you might want to help pick out a foal to send your cousin. I’m sure Mary would be most pleased to know her knight has had a hand in choosing her baby brother’s present.”
Henry mulls this over, chewing the inside of his bottom lip. He doesn’t usually care for much that involves children younger than himself. But he is at that age where he is keen to prove himself as a knight. And there are horses involved. That helps.
“All right,” he nods at last. Marie beams at him.
“Good. Thank you, darling. We’ll go to the stud in a day or two, once the tournament is over. Just you and me. Papa will be very pleased to know you’re helping."
Matters settled to everyone’s satisfaction, they settle in to watch the tilts.
Francis watches Marie from afar as his squires finish fastening his armour.
He can’t hear what she’s saying, not from this distance with the hubbub of the crowd between them, but he can see the way she throws her head back as she laughs at something little Annabelle has said.
Her blue eyes sparkle in the May sunlight and her cheeks are awash with merry colour.
His heart sings to see it. He wasn’t entirely sure about holding this joust, but watching her now, he knows it was the right decision. He hasn’t seen his darling this alive for months.
Desire stirs in his loins and he beckons to a passing page.
“Go and tell the Queen I’ll come to her bed tonight.”
“Yes, Sire.” The boy scampers off and Francis follows his progress to the royal box with avid eyes. Oh, he’s been to Marie’s chambers plenty in recent weeks, but somehow, he already knows tonight will be different. Marie is different.
The joyous news from England has freed her from the shackles of grief and returned her to a woman closer to her old self, to the woman Francis fell in love with.
Watching her, he is more certain than he has ever been that the two of them are leading France into a golden future.
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Watch out, there's a small typo in the title: it's Fontainebleau, not bleu, otherwise can't wait to read the whole chapter :3
Wow, little Henri is really picking up on some of his namesake's personality traits, huh?
Lovely update! So happy (and wary) to see everyone so happy!
Lovely update! So happy (and wary) to see everyone so happy!
What a great scene at the joust, you really are an excellent writer! I'm excited to see Anne and her little son return to England for awhile, though I hope that Marie isn't sending her with the same intentions that she sent Diane. Margot is proving to be a very responsible young Princess, and will make a fine Queen one day, while Henri and Louise are getting along famously 😂. It would be great if Marie and Francois have another child in the coming years as well (she's not even thirty yet, so I can see them having two or three more at least)
I knew it didn't look right! Thank you *scuttles off to edit*
Hang in there. We've plenty of drama to come yet...
And yes, Henri is growing up into his namesake somewhat...and Louise is his Margaret, so that's not brilliant...
No, no. She knows she can't separate Anne and Fran. This is a family visit, although Marie is taking advantage for diplomatic purposes... As for Henri and Louise, they are exactly as I imagine Henry and Margaret were in the Tudor nursery, squabbling constantly...
And you're not wrong re. Marie and Francis's family either!
Cheers!
Well, Henry's not going to choose another French Prince for his second daughter, is he? And Philip is still out of the question, given Anglo-Imperial relations right now... so Savoy seemed a sensible, second-tier match.
You're also forgetting that Henry loathed Margaret so much that his act of succession stated that the heirs of Mary, his younger sister, we to come before Margaret's heirs.Henry may have been considering the Succession before George was born - he'd be a fool not to, even if only theoretically, but no, he is not fond of Margaret. Not in my head canon, anyway. Arthur and Margaret, Marie and Henry is how I see those siblings having split themselves up
Ahhh, there's the brattiness that comes with being a Henry. Also, can I say... #SuchFrancis #MuchHorny
You're also forgetting one thing - the Tudors, for all their living child problems, are as fertile as bulls! Historically, Henry had somewhere between 11 and 15 kids; Margaret managed eight and Mary had 4. That's somewhere between 23 and 27 kids to three people.
What a fine chapter! Nice to see so much of the French Royal family in one chapter!
Henri definitely takes after his uncle and namesake in more than just his Tudor looks. Bet the boy would love spending time with his uncle. Will there be another chance for the two royal families to meet again?
Also where is the oldest prince? Haven’t seen him in…well I don’t know when we last saw him. Shouldn’t the Dauphin be with his parents and learning how to rule? And on top do that I swear you posted a family tree for the French but can’t see it
Henri definitely takes after his uncle and namesake in more than just his Tudor looks. Bet the boy would love spending time with his uncle. Will there be another chance for the two royal families to meet again?
Also where is the oldest prince? Haven’t seen him in…well I don’t know when we last saw him. Shouldn’t the Dauphin be with his parents and learning how to rule? And on top do that I swear you posted a family tree for the French but can’t see it
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Not now, at any rate. We've plenty of drama to come, but not just yet
Well, quite, and when you add the Valois into the mix as well... Is it any wonder Marie has managed seven pregnancies in less than a decade? And yes, little Henri is a bit of a brat. Though little Louise keeps him in line... I fear his English cousin won't have that restraint.
Deleted member 147978
@FalconHonour
Remember when I had asked you to do a Family Tree of Francis I and Queen Mary Rose Tudor? You claimed you're busy with other things in mind, thus I'm still wondering if you're going to do it.
Remember when I had asked you to do a Family Tree of Francis I and Queen Mary Rose Tudor? You claimed you're busy with other things in mind, thus I'm still wondering if you're going to do it.
I hadn't planned on the Royal families meeting again, although I am sure you're right in that Henry would love to meet his namesake nephew again, especially now that he's more secure after George's birth.
As for François, he's in Brittany. Heirs are often kept separate from their parents and taught to rule in an semi-autonomous area, and as François will be Duke of Brittany when he marries Renee once he turns fourteen, he's splitting his time mostly between Nantes and St Malo. We saw him briefly at the Field of Cloth of Gold, and he was brought to Chinon to be with his family while Francis was at war, but apart from that, no, he's in Brittany.
French family tree is a chapter away!
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