An Imperial Match: Anne Boleyn marries Charles V
- Thread starter pandizzy
- Start date
Happy New Year! And what a way to start the year, with a Royal wedding.
I'm glad Isabella is on board with John's choice, even if Bessie hasn't come around yet. Hopefully, she'll come to terms with the whole thing soon, or she and Lincoln together could be trouble, I fear.
I'm glad Isabella is on board with John's choice, even if Bessie hasn't come around yet. Hopefully, she'll come to terms with the whole thing soon, or she and Lincoln together could be trouble, I fear.
Is that truly what y'all think of me?
Well, as the narration said, no one cares what Harry thinks.
I’m saying it’s an option hahah. There would be some form of thematic here. Sweet John loses his mother, Catherine, in childbirth giving birth to him, while another Catherine dies giving birth to his heir?
Isabella is not exactly on board. She doesn't love it, and she would have certainly preferred something else, but she thinks John needs her to accept it for some peace in the family. Whatever she could hope to say, others have already said, and he didn't change his mind so why fight her son for something that seems so small, in the grand scheme of things?
Plus, while it has its disadvantages, it also has its advantages too. John marrying an English noblewoman does help to bind the realm together and leave his subjects happy he’s not forgetting their needs etc. Symbolism always being important in this era.
Yeah, I mean, it shows: look, I know I'm half-spanish and one quarter welsh or whatever, but I am still English at heart and my wife is a full-blooded English woman. Xenophobia is also important.
I like to think Isabella saw Bessie's disapproval and decided her disapproval was causing enough problems so decided to not make things worse for John since his sister will already be giving him hell. At least Katherine isn't the worst bride out there, like if he was going to marry an Englishwoman she's definitely up there for good candidates, she probably wouldn't have kept her composure so well if Katherine was like Elizabeth Woodville in terms of background
Elizabeth Woodville’s background was NOT worse of that of Katherine Howard, who is only a niece of Norfolk. Still not having any Warwick around and marrying a nice of one of the only two men who could try to play that role is much helpful (the other would be Buckingham as I do not remember what happened to him here)
2nd of September, 1539.
Copenhagen, Denmark. 2nd of September, 1539.
Her quill scratched against the paper, black ink blooming in the form of words as Maria rose her head, hands still tidying up the Queen’s bedchamber. Dorothea barely paid attention, her free hand playing with her locket as her other wrote a letter, humming a low song just for herself. Her maid stopped what she was doing to answer the door, as someone had knocked politely at it, dark skirts swishing against the Russian rugs placed over the wooden floor and the Queen did not even lift her eyes to see what was happening. She could not be distracted by her task, for it was a very important task to her heart and Dorothea was nothing if not a focused woman. If she started something, she would see it finished.
And whoever was outside was probably a servant, perhaps with arms full of new sheets or a silver platter with her dinner. The hours passed by quickly when she was busy, the Queen had found and sometimes, she even forgot to leave her chambers to eat with her husband. Maybe it was even one of his servants, to call her to his room. Maybe it was so late that Hans wanted her to perform her marital duties, which she would, as she loved him, but only after her letter was finished.
Except Maria dropped to a deep curtsy, murmuring a respectful, “Your Majesty,” and she had to look up. It was Hans, standing outside her chambers like a servant instead of a king. A smile cut across Dorothea’s face when he entered, gently telling Maria to leave him alone with his wife, and her cheeks burned in slight shame at the friendly face her maid made as she left. Certainly, there were not a great deal of reasons for him to be there, when the sun had gone down and it was already nighttime. Unless…
“Am I late for supper?” Dorothea asked when the door clicked shut and Hans stepped closer. He placed his hand at her back, leaning down to press a quick kiss to her temple.
“Not at all,” he said. “I merely came to see you.” He nodded at her paper. “What are you writing?”
Dorothea smiled. “A letter for Christina,” she said. Hans walked off at her simple answer, sitting before her hearth with his long legs crossed over each other and she followed him with her eyes, meeting his gaze. “She is expecting again.”
“Again?” She nodded. “What is this? Her third child?” A chuckle left her lips.
“Her second,” she answered. “Our godson Alfonso is two now.” He’d be an older brother to whatever babe was being nurtured inside Christina’s womb. Her sister had mentioned her desire to have a little girl in the letter Dorothea was currently responding to, but certainly, her husband the Duke of Ferrara would prefer to have another boy to safeguard the succession. Of course, nothing could be done until the child was born in February, but before that happened, there was nothing wrong with the Duchess hoping for a little girl of her own.
“Ah, yes,” Hans said. “I remember it now.” He placed his elbow over the carved arm of his chair, leaning his head against his hand as he looked at her. Hans had light brown hair and had been attempting to grow a moustache, with mixed results. It always made her look at him quizzically, trying not to laugh. She turned away. “And what are you writing to your sister?”
“Just some of the things I experienced whilst I was carrying Elisabeth,” she murmured, mentioning their second child, two-year-old Elisabeth, who was presently being put to bed by her nurses some corridors away. “Expecting for the second is not the same as when you are about to be a mother for the first time.” She turned her eyes back to her letter.
“Of course,” Hans replied with a smile. Dorothea looked at him with a frown. There was something in him, something hiding, lurking beneath the surface. Hans looked away before he turned back, opened his mouth then closed it again.
“Is there something wrong, my love?” she asked with an arched brow. “I’m sure you didn’t come here just to see me write pregnancy advice for my sister.”
He grimaced. “I don’t know yet.” Hans stood up and handed her a letter, pulled from his pocket. It was a message from their ambassador in London, telling the King and Queen of Denmark that he witnessed the wedding of King John II to a young girl named Katherine Howard.
“Howard?” Dorothea frowned. “I do not know this family. Is it another one of those tiny German states with less than five thousand people?” He chuckled at her joke, just as she rolled her eyes, but Hans shook his head.
“The Howards are an English noble family,” Hans said, causing her to look at him in shock. “They are closely related to the Imperial heirs, since Anne Boleyn’s mother was a Howard.”
“I see,” she said. Dorothea handed him his letter back, watching his shaking hands as he took it. “Tell Magnus to be respectful to the new queen. Tomorrow, I shall search for a wedding present to send to London as well with your letter.”
“A wedding present?” Hans frowned. “Why? The English King jilted my sister and now, he says that this Katherine Howard is better than her.”
“The English King is also the brother and ruler of our son’s intended bride,” said Dorothea sharply. “Margaret of England is a great match for Frederik and I do not want to see it threatened.” She shook her head, rubbing her face. “Elisabeth will marry someone else, someone more vital to Denmark and we will send a present to England. As will Dorothea.” Dorothea, her namesake and sister-in-law, was the youngest of Hans’ sisters, an eleven year old little girl that didn’t have her sister Elisabeth’s striking beauty. But she was a princess of Denmark and someone would have her. No matter what.
Her husband looked as if he wanted to refuse and so, she stood up, dragging her chair back noisily to walk to him. Hans was much taller than her and Dorothea wrapped her arms around his stomach, pulled him close so she could lay her head over his heart. It thumped against her cheek, a healthy and strong beat that calmed her own bleeding organ.
Dorothea knew that her position as queen was difficult. When her father died, the nobles had elected her great-uncle Frederik as king because she was underage, and a girl at that. She was only a consort, with the powers afforded to a consort restricting her, and Hans was the true authority in their kingdoms. He controlled her money, he controlled her life, but she knew him. She knew how to manipulate him.
He sighed and wrapped his arms around her. “Frederik will marry Margaret of England,” he said. “I promise.” Dorothea closed her eyes and nodded. She hugged him tightly before taking a step back.
“Katherine Howard is not the problem,” she said. “She is the Queen of England now, and nothing can take that away from her. Rejecting her will only cause us trouble.” Hans nodded.
"You're right," he said. His hand moved up and down her back before he frowned, leaning back. "New dress?"
"Yes." She spun for him, so he might see everything. "Do you like it?"
Hans shrugged. "I suppose," he said. "How much did it cost?"
Dorothea scowled. "Hans, not this again," she murmured.
"Yes, this again," he answered. Hans chewed his inner cheek, shaking his head. "Either way, there was something else I wanted to tell you."
"What?" Dorothea asked. "Is there something wrong?" They had three children, all healthy and hale and for a moment, Dorothea worried that something happened. The Swedish usurper had decided to forego their agreement and betrothed his son to someone else. Ludvig was ill. Frederik had been hurt.
"No," said Hans. He stroked her arm. "Your uncle, the Emperor, has called for a religious council to be held in Trent in March of next year."
Dorothea gasped. "Truly?" An ecumenical council was all her uncle had ever wanted. To solve the Protestant Reformation and unite Christendom against their common foe, the Turks.
"Truly." Hans nodded. "I hear Martin Luther will be there. Maybe even the anonymous author of that book you are so fond of."
She chuckled. The Obedience of a Christian Woman had been a wonderful read for her, opened her eyes as it did for so many other women. It was so scandalous, and so deliciously Protestant in nature. A pity the author had decided to remain anonymous, for Dorothea would love to exchange letters with whoever she may be.
Hans looked at her. "I want to have a Danish scholar in that council," he said. "It will change the fate of Europe and everyone says Denmark is on the verge of embracing Lutheranism. I want kind ears and eyes in Trent to advocate for us."
"And you want me to find said scholar," she murmured and her husband nodded. Dorothea smiled. "Very well, my love. I will." Her eyes darkened. "As soon as I finished my letter, of course."
He smiled. "I would not have it any other way."
Always nice with a Danish check in! And at least Dorothea has some sense she can knock into Hans