An Imperial Match: Anne Boleyn marries Charles V

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Victoria

I can't wait for the George/Ferdinand reunion. And Juanita keeps being adorable. She gives me Arya Stark vibes.
I'm going to throw my hat into the ring and say that the horse related death will be Charles V.
 

TheBookwormBoy

pandizzy said:
Castelo de Beja, Portugal. 20th of June, 1532.​

Guiomar was kneeling by the bed when Luís stepped inside. She was wearing a simple dark gown, hair pushed under a thick veil and didn’t move even when the door closed behind him, eyes focused forward at the little girl in her bed. The physician had just left and Clemência, one-year-old Clemência was sleeping in a feverish sleep in her mother’s chambers, face flushed.

“How is she?” he asked and Guiomar flinched, having not noticed his arrival. Luís noticed that, though she clasped her hands as if in prayer, she did not whisper, or mumble anything. Not a single word that could be interpreted as a message to their Lord left her lips. Instead, Guiomar looked at their little daughter, face pale even under the waning moonlight, her lips slightly parted like she had stopped in the midst of a sentence.

She looked at him, and Luís could see the dark circles under her eyes. The desperation was clear on her face as she prayed over the bed of their sickly daughter. “Not well, of course,” Guiomar replied.

Luís nodded and stepped forward. He could see Clemência’s little fragile body, her chest rising and falling and her blonde curls, a yellow so light that it seemed almost white to him. She was surrounded by pillows, practically drowning in them and he swallowed the desire to reach out and touch her face. Luís could only imagine the sharp slap that Guiomar would give him if he dared to touch their daughter.

“What did the doctor say?” he asked.

Guiomar didn’t look at him. She turned back to Clemência, named after the pope, but whose name never seemed to fit so perfectly in that moment, where she asked the Lord for mercy. To not take her little child away from her.

“Warmer weather,” she said. “No physical exertion for her. Better and simpler food.”

“I will write to João,” Luís murmured. “I’m sure he can lend us one of his residences in Faro, or in the Algarves. He has so many of them that--”

Guiomar turned sharply to look at him. “Do you really think I care what you do or don’t?” she asked, her voice acid. “You may return to your whore, Luís, and stop pretending you will actually follow through with your promises.

“Guiomar, I--,” he weakly started.

“We don’t need you,” Guiomar continued, looking at Clemência in the bed. "I know your brother was the one who made you come here, who made you leave your pelican whore, but we don't want you here. Clemência has stopped calling for you, so stop pretending you care for her more than you care for your bastard by that Violante girl.”

"Guiomar," he tried again, shaking his head.

"Nothing holds you here," she said simply. "I myself will write to the king and ask for his help. As for you," she looked at him with disdain clear on her face, "Return to Lisbon. Nothing holds you here."

Cowed, Luís looked away. He nodded and left. She was right; nothing did hold him there and he'd much rather be in Lisbon, with Violante and António.

--

Lisbon, Portugal. 29th of June, 1532.​

When the parrot squawked at her, Joana stepped back, frightened and João chuckled. His daughter looked at him, blue eyes wide and her cheeks flushed.

"Please, do not mock me, papai!" she asked. At eleven, Joana was prone to outbursts of sadness and offense if she thought she was being mocked, or teased. It was the fate of girls.

"I'm not, my darling," João assured her. He stepped forward and placed a hand on her shoulder, the dark hair that escaped her braid tickling his fingers. "I just think our darling bird is just more scared of you than you are of him," he said, turning to look at the men who brought said bird from Brazil to Portugal. "Isn't that right, meus senhores?"

The two fools rushed to confirm. "Oh, yes, Your Majesty," said the leader, a tall and skinny man who still seemed to smell like the New World. Though, João didn't let himself say anything. "He is not used to beauties such as the Infanta."

Joana blushed in pleasure at the compliment and smiled at the man. "Thank you, meu senhor," she said as prim and proper. More confident, she looked back at the parrot, a specimen of vivid and bright colours of red and blue, with a hint of green in its wings. Joana stepped forward and touched the golden metal of the cage it was in, smiling. "I will name him Lazúli, after my favorite necklace." She looked at João, eager. "Is he truly mine, papai?"

"Of course," said João. "Did I not promise you an exotic animal from Brazil as your birthday present?" He leaned forward to look at Lazúli, and wondered whether Rubi would have been a better name for him. "There, as I promised, a papagaio from the terra dos papagaios, in time for your twelfth birthday next week."

Joana smiled, her tongue peeking out as she looked back at her bird. Her face was full of love, and also joy, utter happiness at the birthday coming up, when she would come of age and officially be presented to Portuguese society.

João had nothing in his heart but pride and joy for his daughter, his eldest surviving child. To see her grow well and healthy was a balm to his heart, even as he thought about her older sister, who would never see the age of adulthood. As soon as her own cousin, the Prince of Asturias turned fourteen in five years, she'd travel to Castile and take up her rightful place beside him.

He knew the rumours, as well as the truth about the King of Hungary being named the King of the Romans as well. The title that would one day lead him to inherit the Empire and all of its dominions. Joana might never grow to be empress, that fate now belonged to her namesake cousin, who was betrothed to Maximilian of Austria, but being Queen of Castile and Aragon was much of the same. If not more prestigious.

Joana opened the cage daintly, wonder and bewilderment clear on her face and João stepped back to give her some time. At that moment, a servant came with a letter and he looked away for a moment to read it. João thought it was a message from Leonor, deep in her confinement with another child and still morose at missing their daughter's birthday, but when he saw the seal, he knew it wasn't.

As he read, João felt himself growing more and more enraged. The words swam across his head, a buzzing rising in his ears and his entire world shaking. He noticed Joana asking if there was something wrong by the cage, but in truth, João barely cared about her.

He looked up, sweating. "Take my daughter back to her lessons," he ordered and, without a look back, he marched away.

João didn't know where he was walking, until he was already bodily moving maids away from his path, ignoring their concerns over him invading the Queen's confinement. He found Leonor sitting by the bed, primly drinking tea with her ladies when he stepped inside. They gasped, some of the ladies quickly trying to cover their shift-covered bodies, but João didn't care.

As Leonor complained, he showed her the letter. "Henrique wishes to break his vows," he said and Leonor stood up, a hand on her enlarged stomach and another thrown behind to support her. "He wants to marry a nun, the sister of the Duke of Ferrara, and wishes for my help in convincing the Pope. My money!"

Leonor took the letter and read it, a frown growing deep between her eyebrows. "Why would he do this?"

"Why should I know?" he said. "It was our father's wish that he join the church and now, he wants to break the promise he made to the King." He shook his head. "That won't do. That will absolutely not do."

"What is your wish?" Leonor asked, tired. He suddenly remembered that she was heavily pregnant, expected to deliver at any moment and he invaded her confinement.

João took a deep breath and sighed, stepping away.

"If he wants to convince the pope to annul his vows, he will have to do it alone," he said. "He will use his own wits, his own intelligence. Then, and only then, may he be my brother again. This, I so swear."

Leonor said nothing. She knew that when her husband made a decision, it was difficult to convince him otherwise. No matter what she wished. In truth, she could only hope it would improve in the future and that someday, he might regret his decision to disown Henrique.
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Henrique and Eleanora d’Este have a long road ahead of them. Also João being a doting father to Joana is so cute to see. Nice contrast to Luis fucking up his marriage.
 
HortenseMancini

HortenseMancini

The Habsburg-Boleyn siblings are pure little kid wholesomeness. I have a feeling juanita’s tutor is going to get in trouble though for losing track of his charge.

and hopefully we’ll get a george-Ferdinand reunion! Still holding out for a throuple as I also love Ferdinand and Anna together haha
 

Agatha

Its cute to see Charles and Anne's children being so close with Felipe even indulging his sister's love for horseback riding. Apparently OTL Felipe was close to his sisters so his behavior here does make sense as well since Anne would want her children to be close to each other as she herself is close to her brother. Love how you write children, they don't really understand what they are allowed and not allowed to do so Juanita begging to be able to ride with her brother lines up with how a young child would behave.

Just wondering I know Juan is in the Low Countries with Christina so he obviously isn't spending time with his siblings like Felipe and his sisters get to but do they exchange letters with each other or is Juan not old enough yet (Im bad at keeping track of their ages with how many children they've been having)
 
pandizzy

pandizzy

Agatha said:
Just wondering I know Juan is in the Low Countries with Christina so he obviously isn't spending time with his siblings like Felipe and his sisters get to but do they exchange letters with each other or is Juan not old enough yet (Im bad at keeping track of their ages with how many children they've been having)
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Juan is older than Juanita. He technically can exchange letters with his siblings, he already knows how to read and write, but how good is your sibling relationgship if you're basically pen pals huh?
 

Agatha

pandizzy said:
Juan is older than Juanita. He technically can exchange letters with his siblings, he already knows how to read and write, but how good is your sibling relationgship if you're basically pen pals huh?
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Yeah they cant be that close, hope the siblings get to see each other in person at some point though. Like maybe at some point when Anne and Charles get to go to the Low Countries they take their children with them. Its not super likely but hey one can hope
 
12th of September, 1532.
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    • pandizzy

    pandizzy

    Lisbon, Portugal. 12th of September, 1532.​

    "Dinis?" the figure called out in a breathless voice, walking through the corridors. "Dinis, where are you?"

    It was dark, the cold air of night swirling through the open windows and the figure continued walking, her white skirts moving with the air. To any onlookers, she might have appeared as if made of air, as if a ghost, since, save for the dark reddish-brown tone of her hair, she was completely devoid of colours.

    Still, she was tall, and swollen after giving birth so recently. There were dark bags under her eyes, inky black as if painted on. She stumbled through the corridors, her hands reaching forward in an attempt to steady her. The labour sapped much of her strength, and the loss of the newborn infante only a few weeks later exhausted what was left of her mind.

    The Queen Dona Leonor walked through the corridors in the direction of an empty nursery, her feet practically gliding over the floor. She felt like she was flying, a fiery angel looking for her baby.

    There was a single cot in the dark and empty room, cold air swirling in and Leonor approached it. A smile grew on her face as she thought about her sweet baby, with his blonde hair like Afonso's and dark eyes like João's.

    "Dinis?" she murmured gently, curling a hand over the cot to look inside. "Dinis, mamãe is here."

    There was nothing in the cot. It was empty, completely empty. Leonor passed her palm over the lambswool, her heart racing and she turned around, desperate. Only a minute before, she had seen her son sleeping safely inside, happy and growing well. Now, where was he? Where was he?

    "They took my baby!" she shrieked. "They took my baby!"

    "Mamãe, I'm right here," a gentle voice said and Leonor turned in its direction. Warmth filled the room, light spilling in and a smile broke across her face.

    It was a girl of around thirteen years. Red-haired, blue-eyed and lovely. She wore a gown of red and white, her white hood exposing the top of her head, grown exactly to the age she'd be if she had lived.

    "Maria," Leonor breathed out. "Maria, you are well. You are alive!" She ran to her daughter, clutching her skirts to walk faster and Maria didn't move. She smiled simply when Leonor stood before her, accepting the gentle cupping of her soft cheek. "My sweet girl."

    A boy stepped behind her, holding a white bundle in his arms. Leonor recognized him immediately, even years grown past the age she lost him. Miguel, holding little Dinis in his arms. Nine years old, happy and healthy. Leonor thought she had known happiness before, but this… this was something else.

    She placed her other hand on Miguel's face and he looked up at her, they all did. Maria, Miguel, Dinis. Leonor shook her head, choked up with tears. "My babies," she whispered. "My babies, you are here. You came back to me."

    "Mother?" someone called out and Leonor turned. She saw her children; Joana, Afonso, Manuela, Filipe and Margarida by the door, looking at her in confusion. Margarida was holding Filipe's hand, already walking and behind them all, stood João, her husband, looking at her as if he didn't know who she was at all. "Mother, what are you doing?"

    "They have returned!" said Leonor excitedly. "Maria, Miguel and Dinis. The Lord returned them to us."

    She turned back to look at them, to see their faces and assure her family that she was not mad, she couldn't be mad, but they were gone. They were gone and all she had was the taste of ashes and her own tears in her mouth.

    "No," she murmured, desperate. "No, no, no. No!"


    "No!" Leonor shouted, waking up. Her word echoed through her chambers and her ladies shifted, ready to assist her.

    "What is it, Your Majesty?" one of them asked. It was too dark for Leonor to see which one. "Are you hurt? Are you in pain?"

    "No," she murmured, shaking them off. "Leave me be, all of you."

    They nodded and hastened to obey. Even though Leonor could still hear them debating what could have spooked her amongst themselves, they didn't bother her again.

    She shivered as she laid back on her bed, pulling the covers over her bed. She was scared of going back to sleep, of the nightmares returning. Ever since Dinis, her sweet baby, had died, they didn’t leave her alone.
     
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    • Family Tree - Aviz
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    • pandizzy

    pandizzy

    King João III of Portugal (June 1502-) m. Leonor of Austria (November 1498 -)
    1. Maria of Portugal (1519-1523)
    2. Joana of Portugal (July 1520-) b. Felipe, Prince of Asturias (April 1523-)
    3. Afonso, Prince of Portugal (August 1522-) b. María of Austria (April 1524-)
    4. Miguel of Portugal (November 1523-August 1528)
    5. Manuela of Portugal (April 1526-)
    6. Filipe of Portugal (August 1527-)
    7. Margarida of Portugal (February 1531-)
    8. Dinis of Portugal (June 1532-July 1532)
     
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